Chapter Seven: The Trials of Menial Labor and Relentless Hardship

Dong Changfeng felt a mix of bewilderment, excitement, and unease in his heart. He did not know who the old man was, nor did he know where he was being taken.

"Follow me to... the chore quarters?" the old man said with a faint, calm smile.

"The chore quarters?" Dong Changfeng’s smile froze on his face. This drop in expectations was more jarring than a rollercoaster ride. He had been anticipating immortal scriptures or a mystical paradise, not this godforsaken place for manual labor. The old man smiled again, offered no explanation, and turned into a streak of light that vanished into the horizon. Sighing helplessly, Dong Changfeng resigned himself to his fate and headed toward the chore quarters.

The quarters were located in the most desolate corner of the sect. Rows of low, dilapidated buildings stood in ruin; the mottled, peeling walls seemed to silently recount the vicissitudes of time, as if a mere gust of wind would make them creak and collapse into a heap. The air was thick with a heavy, musty odor—a scent of rot and dampness mingled with choking dust that bored into Dong Changfeng’s nostrils, making him want to gag. He frowned as he surveyed his surroundings; this environment was no better than the pigsty back at his hometown.

The other laborers were gaunt and sallow, their eyes as hollow as dried-up wells. Like wilted eggplants, they repeated their work mechanically, devoid of any vitality, save for the monotonous "clank" of tools striking objects.

"So you’re the new one?" A sharp, thin voice broke the silence.

Dong Changfeng looked up to see a short, stout, middle-aged man with a face full of rolls of fat standing before him, hands on his hips. This was Steward Sun, the man in charge of the chore quarters.

"Can't even stand properly! I can tell already, you're not going to be worth much!" Steward Sun looked him up and down.

Dong Changfeng noticed that the spirit stones he was assigned to move were significantly more numerous than those handled by the others. Each one radiated a cold, eerie light, as if infused with countless grievances. When he reached out to touch them, the rough, frigid sensation traveled up his fingertips. Each stone was extraordinarily heavy, feeling as if it might pull his arms out of their sockets. He clenched his fists, forcing down the rage building within him.

"What are you standing there for? Get moving!" Seeing Dong Changfeng motionless, Steward Sun flared with anger and reached out to shove him.

Dong Changfeng was quick; he sidestepped the push, hearing the rush of air from the steward's palm pass by his ear. A cold sneer played on his lips. "Steward Sun, there's no rush..."

Dong Changfeng took a deep breath, straightened his back, and walked toward the pile of spirit stones. As he lifted the first one, the immense weight made his heart sink, as if a boulder had been placed upon his chest. Sweat instantly beaded on his forehead, sliding down his cheeks and chin to drip onto the back of his hand. The path of the droplets felt itchy, and the sticky sensation of the sweat only added to his irritation. The surrounding laborers stopped their work, watching him with gloating expressions, like a pack of wolves watching prey stumble into a trap.

"Looks like a new one, eh?" someone whispered.

"Bound to be a death sentence," another chimed in. "Can he even handle such heavy work?" The whispers slithered into Dong Changfeng's ears like snakes.

Suppressing his fury, Dong Changfeng buried his head in his work. Stone after stone, he lifted them. With each one, his arm muscles screamed in agony—a deep, marrow-aching exhaustion, as if countless needles were pricking his muscles. Throughout the process, Senior Brother Wu appeared periodically to offer cold mockery: "Dong Changfeng, are you working so hard because you want to earn points to trade for something?" The biting, sarcastic tone grated against Dong Changfeng’s heart like a file.

Dong Changfeng gritted his teeth, ignoring the provocation as he continued to haul the stones. His hands had begun to tremble, and sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes until he had to squint just to keep working. Just as he reached the point of collapse, Steward Sun reappeared, sneering, "What? Can't handle it? These are the rules—if you don't finish, you get punished!"

Dong Changfeng stopped and looked the steward straight in the eye, a sudden flash of determination in his gaze.

"Steward Sun, the sect rules are clearly written: as long as the task is completed on time, one cannot be harassed without cause. By saying this, are you not violating the rules yourself?" His tone was flat, but every word was like a sharp blade piercing directly at the steward.

Steward Sun was stunned as if struck by lightning. His body jerked, his complexion turned ashen, and he was utterly shocked that this newcomer could so precisely pin him down. The surrounding laborers looked on in surprise, then began to whisper, "This kid... he's not simple!" The murmurs grew louder, sounding like a silent mockery of the steward.

Steward Sun was speechless for a long moment before finally squeezing out, "You... if you don't finish your task today, you'll be punished regardless!" But his voice lacked conviction. After speaking, he turned and flicked his sleeves, walking away in a clumsy, flustered manner. He nearly tripped over a stone, his erratic footsteps making a clattering sound that drew bursts of laughter from the laborers, leaving behind only dust and a sudden silence.

Dong Changfeng wiped the sweat from his forehead and gave a cold smile. "Steward Sun, we shall see." He picked up the last spirit stone, feeling its cool weight in his hands, and walked steadily toward the warehouse.

By now, the gazes around him had shifted from contempt to admiration. In the oppressive atmosphere, a new strength was quietly rising. Dong Changfeng set the stone down and wiped his hands, the rough skin making a faint "shushing" sound. He turned to see the exhausted faces of his fellow laborers and a thought occurred to him.

After finishing his work, Dong Changfeng wiped his sweat and looked around. The others were still struggling. He grinned, revealing a flash of white teeth. "Brothers, keep it up! Perseverance is victory!" He rolled up his sleeves and walked over to a thin, frail laborer. "Here, let me give you a hand!" The laborer was flattered and quickly waved his hands. "No... no need, Senior Brother Dong, I can do it myself."

"Don't be so formal! We're all brothers here!"

Dong Changfeng took the stone from him without hesitation. Its weight made his arms dip slightly, but he marched toward the warehouse with powerful strides, his feet striking the ground with a rhythmic, forceful thud. The other laborers stared in disbelief. Was this the same newcomer who had just been harassed by Steward Sun? He was far too honorable!

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the chore quarters changed. A warmth seemed to seep into the previously stagnant air. Many of the laborers looked at Dong Changfeng with eyes full of gratitude and respect.

Watching from the shadows, Senior Brother Wu looked as if he had swallowed a fly. He had wanted to watch Dong Changfeng make a fool of himself, but instead, the kid had pulled a reverse maneuver and won over the crowd! It made his teeth itch with jealousy.

Steward Sun, naturally, saw this too, his whiskers quivering with rage. This brat was ruining his fun! He stormed over to Dong Changfeng. "Dong Changfeng, why aren't you working? What are you doing here?"

"Steward Sun, my task is already complete," Dong Changfeng replied, neither humble nor arrogant, while producing his assessment certificate. "These are my results."

Steward Sun took the certificate, his face turning deathly pale. The bright red character for "Excellent" was like a resounding slap across his face. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He could only slink away, his retreating figure looking utterly dejected.

The surrounding laborers couldn't help but chuckle, their gazes toward Dong Changfeng filled with even greater admiration. Dong Changfeng looked toward the distant, towering Library Pavilion, a spark of determination in his eyes. He knew the chore quarters were only temporary; to become strong, he needed more knowledge and resources. The Library Pavilion might be the key to his breakthrough.

As night fell, Dong Changfeng quietly left the chore quarters and headed in the direction of the Library Pavilion.