Jiang Ke’er quickly found herself disappointed.
The painting style of this era was dominated by proper Feng Shui Ink Paintings, yet Yan Liben was still too young to master such grand, experience-driven techniques.
Instead, it was the casual Graffiti she’d seen along the roadside—those doodles turning cultivators into pig-headed figures—that truly caught her eye.
Those Graffiti revealed a child’s vivid imagination, and the approachable, down-to-earth style made them a delight to behold.
After watching Yan Liben draw for a while, Jiang Ke’er took out paper and brush and began sketching herself.
“Qing Yi-jie, what are you drawing?” Yan Liben curiously poked his small head over.
“This is called a Sketch,” Jiang Ke’er replied, her brush moving at lightning speed. With a few swift strokes, she drew several scenes with clean, simple lines.
Unlike the Shui Mo Xie Yi of Feng Shui Ink Paintings, these pictures emphasized realism.
The figures within seemed lifelike, their movements fluid, as if they might leap out and start Martial Arts right in front of Yan Liben.
“Wow!”
Yan Liben gasped, clutching Jiang Ke’er’s drawing tightly. “This is the first time I’ve seen such simple and clear pictures. It’s so cool! Qing Yi-jie, you’re amazing!”
The young boy couldn’t help but look at Jiang Ke’er with admiration.
“You can start by practicing simple object construction with basic line drawings, and action sketches to build your foundation. Once you’ve learned that, you can try your hand at grand Shui Mo Xie Yi later,” Jiang Ke’er advised.
After all, in this world, the purpose of art was not for appreciation, but for battle.
In a fight, every half-second, every slight improvement in detail, could determine victory or defeat.
For some reason, perhaps due to a flaw in this world’s art development, Yan Liben’s fundamentals were clearly weak—he imitated Graffiti without truly understanding the principles.
Practicing Jiang Ke’er’s way would not only build his foundation, allowing him to remember the internal structure of objects and avoid drawing only the surface in the future.
It would also help him get past the awkward beginner phase before becoming a master, letting him possess real combat strength early on, so his growth curve would be smoother… rather than learning Martial Arts only when he was old and grey.
“But… my art teacher only lets me practice Shui Mo Xie Yi. He says that’s the only way to become a great art cultivator… If he finds out I’m drawing all this random stuff, he’ll definitely scold me,” Yan Liben said, looking conflicted.
“If he has a problem, tell him to come find me,” Jiang Ke’er said confidently.
After all, she’d drawn an A-rank painting skill from the System. “Tell him I know a thing or two about art. If he has questions, he can come debate with me!”
“Oh…” Yan Liben nodded repeatedly, his eyes sparkling with stars—clearly, he admired Jiang Ke’er even more now.
As evening fell, Changsun Qingyue came looking for Jiang Ke’er.
“Do you have any plans… or goals?” Changsun Qingyue asked.
“To make money,” Jiang Ke’er sighed.
“To be precise, to earn Yibi.”
Yibi was a currency that only worked within Ancient Scholarly Realm, bound to the holder’s Faction Identity Card and used for special trades within Ancient Scholarly Realm.
Rather than money, it was more like a kind of virtual point system.
For example, Ranger was a type of faction identity, and Jiang Ke’er’s Yibi would be stored in her Ranger Faction Identity Card.
Because of Yibi, cultivators in Ancient Scholarly Realm preferred exchanging Magic Crystal Stones for Yibi—to avoid loss and the hassle of carrying them.
This left Jiang Ke’er rather frustrated—she couldn’t get her hands on much cash, and there was no way to fence stolen goods.
These days, she felt like her entire fox self was out of sorts.
It’s tough being a thief in the era of virtual transactions!
So even though she had a stash of treasures, her purse still felt tight.
Even the huge pile of Magic Crystal Stones Yuan Zheng gave her didn’t set her mind at ease—she planned to use that money to buy a decent Artifact Sword, and didn’t want to touch it.
Once she bought the sword, she’d be back to living on crumbs.
In short, Jiang Ke’er needed to make money.
And to earn Yibi, aside from legitimate card transactions, the only way was to complete Faction Tasks.
There were three main factions in Ancient Scholarly Realm: the Ranger Guild, Jiugong Chamber of Commerce, and the Sect Alliance.
Jiang Ke’er had just registered as a Ranger Rank D—the lowest level of Ranger, only eligible for the simplest Ranger Commissions.
After completing enough commissions, she could upgrade to Ranger Rank C, then B, then A, gaining access to tougher tasks and higher pay per commission… basically, it worked like most Bounty Groups.
The only difference was that you couldn’t take on higher-level tasks before ranking up.
So low-level Rangers couldn’t suddenly get rich by doing high-level tasks, and there was no chance for dramatic displays that would shock everyone—much to Jiang Ke’er’s disappointment.
So, she could only grit her teeth and Liver Grind.
Whether it was Earth OL, Shenzhou OL, or Ancient Scholarly Realm OL, the gameplay was always the same… you either Ou, Ke, or Liver.
Though Liver Grinding was the last resort, Jiang Ke’er was just a wild little Demon Race orphan—no background, no luck.
All she could do was grind.
“Now that you two have joined, we finally have a full group of five to take on simple Ranger Commissions,” Changsun Qingyue said with a gentle smile.
“If you’re free, we can start tomorrow. Group tasks pay much better than solo ones.”
“Sounds good~” Jiang Ke’er agreed happily.
Starting Liver Grinding early was always a good thing.
More importantly… she absolutely did not want to be alone with Qiao Xiaoxian again!
That girl was just too scary.
Whenever there was no one else around, Jiang Ke’er felt utterly at her mercy.
If she had to be alone with her for a few more days, who knows what might happen.
As night fell, Jiang Ke’er returned to her temporary bedroom.
Lying on the bed, she curled up, hugged the Jin Wu she’d gotten that night to her chest, wrapped her tail around it, and prepared to enter her nightly cultivation state.
Suddenly, a prompt popped up in front of her.
[Received 110 Resentment Points from Dao Yi.]
Oh, Dao Yi. Probably stuck in another rock crevice.
Whatever, just let it grind itself out.
Jiang Ke’er calmly turned over, closed her eyes, and opened the System Space, tossing the freshly earned Villain Points into the System Lottery.
Ever since that day when a tiny cube world formed in her belly, the System Lottery had opened a new limited pool called the Foundation Establishment Prize Pool.
This pool included items to repair the Black Magatama and Ling Sense Enhancement Items.
This pool was a total scam—it took 500,000 points to empty it! But there was no choice; the rewards inside were too useful.
Even with her recent fame, earning 50,000 points from all over the world each day, it would still take her ten whole days to clear the pool.
—Fifty thousand was the daily point cap for the Dual Polarity Stage, as Jiang Ke’er had discovered after clearing the Hundred Sword Trials. She utterly loathed this setting; otherwise, she could have earned tens of millions, maybe even a hundred million points in a single day!
Luckily, the Hanye Island incident was still unresolved. Human Race and the Demon Race argued endlessly about Jiang Ke’er’s name every day, so even if she did nothing, she could still fill her daily quota of fifty thousand points.
“Mom, what are they doing? This is our house…” Pei Min glared angrily at the movers in front of him.
“From now on, this will be someone else’s home, Min’er. Let’s go,” Pei Shi gently patted Pei Min’s head, took his hand, shouldered their luggage, and turned away.
Their belongings were few and light.
Pei Min didn’t understand why their home was becoming someone else’s.
He vaguely guessed it might be because of his own stubbornness, and a wave of guilt and sadness washed over him.
“Mom, I don’t want to learn Swordsmanship anymore. Can we go home?”
But Pei Shi frowned, looking seriously at Pei Min.
“Min’er, do you really not want to learn anymore?”
Pei Min hesitated…
Of course, he wanted to, but he didn’t want the price of learning Swordsmanship to be losing their home and making his mother suffer, wandering with him.
“Don’t say things like that again,” Pei Shi said sternly.
“If you want something, you’ll always face choices and trade-offs. When you don’t know what to choose… Min’er, remember the path you picked yourself. Remember the Sworn Oath you once made!”
“I understand…” Pei Min nodded timidly.
“But Mom, where are we going?”
Faced with Pei Min’s question, Pei Shi fell silent for a moment, unsure.
“Where we go, you’ll decide,” Pei Shi gritted her teeth.
“From today on, I’ll walk with you, but you’ll choose what we do each day and which direction we go. And you’ll take responsibility for your choices.”
“Really?” Hearing he could do whatever he wanted, Pei Min was instantly excited.
Pei Shi nodded.
She knew that, at Pei Min’s age, it was too soon for him to decide his own fate.
Children’s choices were often impulsive, never considering the consequences.
But sometimes, that led to unexpected rewards.
Many great things began from what seemed like childish and silly impulses.
More importantly… she had to help Pei Min grow up quickly, to become mature and responsible, and to understand the consequences of every choice.
After all, she couldn’t always be there as his shield… her time was running out.
Feeling the faint pain in her chest, Pei Shi forced a smile and said softly, “So, Min’er, where shall we go?”
“Let’s go find Jiang Ke’er!” Pei Min declared, hands on his hips, excitement in his voice.
“Let’s ask her to be our master!”
As expected.
Pei Shi felt her chest tighten.
Everyone knew Jiang Ke’er was dead, but Pei Min stubbornly refused to accept it.
As long as he hadn’t seen the body, Pei Min would never believe Jiang Ke’er was gone…
Even if he couldn’t explain it, if you argued with him, he’d end up sobbing over and over: “Jiang Ke’er isn’t dead! If I say she’s not dead, then she’s not dead!”
Pei Shi had no choice but to say, “Alright, then where do we go to find Jiang Ke’er?”
“Umm… that way!” Pei Min pointed in a random direction, following his instincts.
“Sigh… Let’s go,” Pei Shi sighed helplessly, taking Pei Min’s small hand and stepping onto the gravel road.