Family Cultivation: My Ancestral Home Gets Infinite Upgrades

the next morning.

Jiang Fu'an stood by the courtyard wall, pointed to the poisoned steamed bun on the ground, and lectured Yue'er:

"See this? This thing almost killed Big Yellow last night."

"Last night, a thief sneaked into our yard, intending to poison Dahuang with this."

"Once we succeed, we'll steal all of our white geese, hens, and cattle."

"From now on, you must always remind Dahuang that it must not eat a single bite of anything from strangers."

The second daughter can communicate with animals, so having her explain things is much more effective than him doing it himself.

Yue'er stared at the poisoned bun, which had been hardened by the wind, her little mouth slightly open and her eyes wide open.

This was the first time she had ever truly witnessed the methods used by bad people.

It wasn't from a story, nor was it something her parents told her to do.

After a long while, she finally raised her face and nodded very seriously to her father:

"I'll remember that. From now on, I'll tell Big Yellow, Big Goose, and Yellow Ox every day that no one is allowed to eat food from strangers."

Jiang Fu'an seized the opportunity to add another sentence:

"And you too, from now on, no matter how tempting it is, you can't accept food from others."

This girl has a very sweet tooth. Whenever she sees the neighbor's child eating a pancake, she can squat down next to him and stare longingly for a long time.

I've said it so many times before, but it always goes in one ear and out the other.

This time, Yue'er didn't talk back; her voice was soft but earnest.

"I understand. I won't accept food from others in the future."

Jiang Fu'an didn't say anything more. He picked up the cornbread, went back into the house to get an iron shovel, and turned to walk out of the yard.

I had just found a spot next to the threshing ground and was squatting down to dig a hole to bury that drug den when Uncle Xu from next door strolled over with his hands behind his back and a smile on his face.

Good morning, sir. Thanks to your vigilance last night, our village was spared from disaster.

Jiang Fu'an stopped what he was doing and asked in surprise:

"Judging from what you're saying, something happened in another village last night?"

"you do not say!"

Uncle Xu's voice carried a hint of schadenfreude:

"Several wealthy families in the two neighboring villages were all patronized."

"The guard dog was given medicine and died. All the cattle and pigs in the pen were taken away, leaving nothing behind!"

"Those women are still cursing at the village entrance, but what's the use? The thief is long gone, who could hear him?"

These words made Jiang Fu'an fall into deep thought...

They can operate in several villages simultaneously and quickly move large livestock such as pigs and cattle away.

It seems there were more than just one or two thieves who came last night; it's likely an organized group.

His heart tightened: the man escaped last night, will he bring people back to cause trouble later?

But then I thought about it again and realized it was unlikely.

Thieves often fail when they steal.

If someone always seeks revenge after a single mistake, they wouldn't be a thief, they'd be a bandit.

Just then, Uncle Xu said happily:

"Oh, right, boss, there's some good news!"

"The Wang family of Qinglu Mountain sent word that they're hosting a banquet for several nearby villages to celebrate the successful foundation-building of one of their disciples in the Miaoyin Sect!"

The Wang family of Qinglu Mountain is the only family in this area with spiritual fields.

They're hosting a dinner party; maybe they'll serve Lingmi (a type of rice).

That's a rare treat that most people only get to eat once in their lifetime.

Jiang Fu'an couldn't help but feel a little envious after hearing this.

He remembered that the Wang family had once been ordinary farmers.

In just a few years, the family has produced Foundation Establishment cultivators and more than ten Qi Refining cultivators.

If things continue like this, and they manage to acquire another spiritual vein in the future, they might really become a family of cultivators.

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.

The memory of that night's theft gradually faded from Xujia Village's memory.

Days passed by, and before they knew it, ten days had passed—

The day the Wang family of Qinglu Mountain held a banquet.

The Wang family residence is located at the foot of Qinglu Mountain.

More than ten years ago, a sacred spring appeared on the mountain.

Because someone from the Wang family was cultivating at the Miaoyin Sect, no one could possibly compete with them for this spring.

Later, they cultivated several acres of land by the spring, which they often irrigated with the spring water. Now it has become a true sacred field.

Jiang Fu'an, with his three children, hadn't even reached the foot of the mountain when he heard a great commotion ahead.

Looking from afar, rows of square tables stretched from the courtyard all the way to the road, and the place was packed with people.

Yue'er tiptoed to take a look, her little face immediately fell, and she tugged at her father's clothes, complaining:

"It's all Dad's fault for getting up so late! Now look what's happened, when will we get there..."

Jiang Fu'an found it amusing.

This girl usually won't get up until the sun is high in the sky, but today, as soon as the rooster crowed, she jumped up in a flash.

Just so we could eat at the banquet earlier.

However, their village is a good seven or eight miles away from Qinglu Mountain. Even if they set off before dawn, they still can't compete with people from nearby villages.

He patted his daughter's head and comforted her:

"What's the rush? Let's be hungry for a little longer, then we can eat more later."

The banquet in the village is also called a "flowing banquet" because the whole family usually comes, so there aren't enough seats and they have to eat in several rounds.

After finishing the first round of eating, we quickly cleaned up and served the next round of dishes.

Those who arrive late have to wait in line on the side.

If there are too many people, things often get busy even in the afternoon.

Generally speaking, village banquets are not for profit, but simply for the sake of celebration.

The Wang family's extravagant gesture this time was simply to let the surrounding area know:

Their family is different now.

There were so many people attending the banquet that the Wang family compound was completely packed.

Jiang Fu'an looked around and pointed to a field ridge not far away:

"Come on, let's go sit over there and wait. We'll get our turn eventually."

As he spoke, a sense of anticipation also arose in his heart.

He had never tasted Lingmi in his life.

I wonder what different effects will occur after eating it, given the blessing of the "devouring body".

As soon as they sat down on the edge of the field, the eldest daughter, He Miao, took a wooden box from her bosom and handed it to Jiang Fu'an:

"Father, could you please fix the wooden carving's face a bit more?"

Those were little figures that Jiang Fu'an had carved by hand for her birthday a few days ago.

He Miao liked it very much and always kept it close to her body.

Since she had nothing to do at the moment, she wanted to ask her father to carve it more vividly.

Jiang Fu'an hadn't responded yet—

A cool, clear female voice suddenly floated down from above their heads:

"Little girl, what's your name?"

Jiang Fu'an was startled and looked up abruptly.

Five beautiful young women dressed in white palace attire were suspended silently in mid-air, their robes fluttering.

The man in the lead had his eyes downcast, his gaze fixed on the rice seedlings.

The one who asked the question was her.

When He Miao saw them floating in the air, she immediately knew they were immortals. Her face turned pale, and she subconsciously moved closer to her father, her eyes pleading for help.

After Jiang Fu'an saw the woman's face clearly, he calmed down.

He gently patted his daughter's back and said softly:

"The immortal has no ill intentions; just answer truthfully."

Hearing her father say this, He Miao felt a little more at ease and looked up at him, whispering:

"Reporting to the Immortal Master, my name is Jiang Xianghe."

The woman's eyes flickered slightly, and her tone softened:

How old are you this year?

"Just turned seven."

The woman nodded slightly and reached out her hand towards the rice seedlings.

"Perfect timing. I'm going to test the spiritual roots of the Wang family disciples later, you can come along too."