Family Cultivation: My Ancestral Home Gets Infinite Upgrades

Early that morning, just as dawn was breaking, Jiang Fu'an got out of bed.

He put on his coat, and following his recent habit, pushed open the door and walked towards the ancestral hall.

A year has passed, but "good fortune" has not appeared on time.

According to the description on the panel, as long as the one-year period is met, it may appear every day thereafter.

He had no other choice but to come and check every day, afraid of missing it.

As soon as he pushed open the wooden door of the ancestral hall, his gaze was immediately drawn to the offering table in the very center.

A white orb of light was now hanging on the usually empty altar.

"It's finally here!"

Jiang Fu'an was initially delighted, but then a hint of regret crept into his heart.

The quality of the light orbs, from low to high, is divided into six colors: white, green, blue, purple, orange, and red.

The white light before us is undoubtedly the worst kind.

He strode to the table, stretched out his finger, and touched the ball of light.

The moment his fingertips touched the halo, the white light seeped into his palm.

A warm current spread up my arm and reached my brow.

Jiang Fu'an closed his eyes, stood quietly, and received the information inside.

After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, he slowly opened his eyes, a look of surprise on his face.

The information provided by this "fortune" is actually related to the Miao family of Zhushan, one of the seven great immortal cultivation families in the Song Kingdom.

That's the family that was wiped out.

The message stated that when the Miao clan was destroyed, most of the cultivators were killed, but a group of mortals survived and are now fleeing in all directions.

Next month, a team of about ten people will pass through Ping'an Town.

Among these people, many are skilled in cultivating spiritual fields, raising semi-spirit beasts, making talismans, and preparing cinnabar.

If we could take them in...

To be honest, Jiang Fu'an was tempted.

Other skills were secondary; what he valued most were the skills of making talisman paper and preparing cinnabar.

If we really want to draw talismans on a large scale in the future, we can't rely entirely on purchasing these two basic materials from outside.

The cost is too high, and it is easy to be controlled by others.

If one can cultivate one's own resources early on, one can focus wholeheartedly on studying the Dao of Talismans once one officially embarks on the path of immortality.

But... could there be any trouble?

The information within the sphere of light also revealed that these mortals were not direct descendants of the Miao people and had no cultivation whatsoever, which is why they were spared their lives in the first place.

Logically speaking, taking them in shouldn't attract any trouble, but who knows if it might sow the seeds of some hidden danger?

He had already experienced the reliability of "Fu Yuan" a year ago.

At that time, sneaking into the cultivator's cave at night seemed like a life-or-death situation, but thanks to the guidance of "fortune", I actually returned safely without any danger.

Since it suggests that it can be taken in this time, the risk should be minimal.

Then... let's take a gamble.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

One month later, at the entrance of Zhaozhuang Village on the border of Ping'an Town.

A group of people, their shadows heavy with fatigue, slowly approached.

There were about fourteen or fifteen people, men and women, old and young, all dressed in rags and with pale faces.

Leading the way was an elderly woman with gray hair, leaning on a thick tree branch.

Several villagers were already gathered at the village entrance, looking around. When they saw them coming, they all took a few steps back.

The old woman stepped forward and bowed to the well-dressed man in the crowd, who appeared to be around forty years old. Her voice was hoarse.

"Village chief, we all fled from the north. Our homes were destroyed by disaster, and we had no other choice."

"Could you please provide me with a place to stay?"

"We are all honest and upright people, capable of working, and we would never eat or stay for free..."

Before she could finish speaking, the man waved his hand, interrupting her:

"Sister-in-law, it's not that I'm heartless. There are so many people fleeing famine these days, the village really can't accommodate them all."

"Besides, sheltering outsiders requires official documentation. Do you have that?"

The old woman opened her mouth, then her eyes dimmed.

Given their status, the government would avoid them like the plague, so they wouldn't issue any official documents.

But with the weather getting colder day by day, if they can't find a place to stay, the children in the group might not survive the winter.

Seeing their pitiful state, the man softened his tone:

"Here's what we'll do: there's a well in the village where you can draw some water to drink. Once you've finished, hurry up and head somewhere else."

The old woman's lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to say a few more words.

A young woman in the group, whose face was mostly covered by a tattered headscarf, could no longer hold back. She gently pulled the old woman's arm and whispered:

"Grandma, forget it... let's go and find somewhere else."

His voice was choked with sobs, mostly because he couldn't bear to see the old man humble himself any longer.

The old woman sighed and turned to move on to the next village.

Just as they were stumbling along, having walked less than a hundred paces from the village entrance, two people stood quietly at the bend in the path ahead.

A composed-looking middle-aged man was holding the hand of a little girl who looked about seven or eight years old.

This was Jiang Fu'an, who had been waiting for a long time, and his daughter Yue'er, whom he had brought with him.

In order to successfully take them in, Yue'er, the "mascot," is indispensable.

Now, he has made it a habit to take her with him whenever he goes out on errands.

As the fleeing group approached, Jiang Fu'an took the initiative to speak:

Are you all refugees? Do you have somewhere to go?

Along the way, everyone I met either avoided me or chased me away; this was the first time someone had taken the initiative to talk to me.

A glimmer of hope rekindled in the old woman's eyes, and she quickly replied:

"Yes, my family suffered a disaster, so I had no choice but to come out. I haven't found a place to stay yet."

She sized up Jiang Fu'an and tentatively asked:

"Are you from around here, young man? Could you please introduce me to the village chief?"

Jiang Fu'an shook his head:

"I don't live here. I'm just passing through with my daughter to visit relatives."

"However, my family recently built a new house and we are short of manpower."

"What skills do you all possess?"

In order not to reveal the secret of "fortune", he could only pretend to be completely unaware and ask questions step by step.

Upon hearing this, the old woman exclaimed excitedly:

"We're good at all the farm work! Plowing, weeding, fertilizing, harvesting... we're experts at everything, and we guarantee we can do it better than the average farmer!"

She did not directly mention techniques such as spiritual plants and talismans, which did not surprise Jiang Fu'an.

It's normal for the other party to be wary when it's the first time meeting.

Besides, he looks like just an ordinary farmer right now. Even if they asked, where would they get spiritual fields to cultivate?

Jiang Fu'an didn't point it out, but simply nodded slowly:

"You all look tired, why don't you come back with me and rest for a bit? As for the work, we can discuss it later."

As soon as he finished speaking, the woman with a headscarf in the fleeing group asked warily:

"Where do you live? With so many of us, will you have enough room?"

Jiang Fu'an smiled faintly:

"Xujia Village is about ten miles from here. Even if there were twice as many people, we could still find room there, let alone yours."

The old woman, afraid of missing this rare opportunity, quickly agreed:

"Alright, alright! We'll go to Xujia Village with you!"

She knew in her heart that this might be the last glimmer of hope before winter arrived.