Bringing The Farm To Live In Another World Chapter 2284: Year of Cultivation

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Zhao Hai gazed at Zhou Feng with bewilderment and asked, “The Forbidden Path Sect’s disciple cultivation? How does it differ from that in other places?”

Zhou Feng glanced at Zhao Hai, then offered a wry smile and replied, “Differ? Brother, allow me to explain: the opening year in the sect proves to be a nightmarish period for every Forbidden Path Sect disciple. All have endured this initial year, even the current sect leader and numerous elders.”

Zhao Hai blinked in surprise. He then regarded Zhou Feng with a grave look and questioned, “Brother Zhou, how does this first year of cultivation vary from the rest?”

Zhou Feng met Zhao Hai’s eyes and responded with a bitter grin, “This period is known as ascetic cultivation. Every disciple entering the Forbidden Path Sect must endure it. Even those groomed by the sect from a young age join in this full year of ascetic practice upon hitting the Soul Integration stage.”

“In this span, the sect applies unique techniques to lock away your spiritual energy, reducing you to a mere mortal. For the following year, labor awaits in the Forbidden Path Sect’s mines. It’s not mere toil—you’ll don an iron suit daily. The first month demands a 100 jin (50 kg) suit, the second 300 jin (150 kg), the third 700 jin (350 kg), and the fourth 850 jin. The fifth brings 1000 jin, the sixth 1500 jin, the seventh 3000 jin, the eighth 5000 jin, the ninth 7000 jin, the tenth 9000 jin, the eleventh 15,000 jin, and the final month 30,000 jin, wait, no—50,000 jin.”

“Clad in such iron garb, you’ll toil without spiritual energy. Worst of all, throughout the year, raw demon beast meat forms your three daily meals. Every seven days, a pill arrives—not for cultivation, but to ward off digestive woes and aid in breaking down the beast meat. Thus unfolds the sect’s ascetic cultivation.”

Zhao Hai stood dumbfounded. He truly never anticipated such a thing; it proved utterly shocking. In his debut year as a disciple, spiritual energy sealed, heavy labor imposed, and daily raw meat consumption! Heavens above, an entire year of raw meat! Wouldn’t that turn him feral? The mere thought chilled Zhao Hai to the bone.

Noticing Zhao Hai’s face, Zhou Feng spoke gravely, “Forget escaping it. Even direct promotion to Core Disciple won’t spare you this ascetic year. Just brace yourself for the training.”

Zhao Hai gave a wry smile and said, “Seems I’m stuck with it. Fine, enough on that. Let’s drink heartily now. If I make inner disciple, a full year without alcohol awaits.”

Hearing Zhao Hai, Zhou Feng erupted in laughter. He knew the bitter flavor of ascetic cultivation all too well; that grueling year had nearly broken him.

Yet Zhou Feng conceded that his year of ascetic toil greatly aided his cultivation. It sharpened his mindset and, crucially, unlocked his body’s hidden potentials. That’s how he swiftly attained Foundation Establishment and honed the God Elephant Body to minor completion.

While the pair dined and conversed, a voice rang out from beyond the restaurant: “Is Zhao Ling present?”

Zhao Hai and Zhou Feng froze at the sound. It belonged to Wan Feng. Zhao Hai wasted no time, calling back, “Here,” before hurrying from the restaurant.

Observing Zhao Hai, Wan Feng smiled slightly. He produced a document and declared solemnly, “Zhao Ling, heed my order. Effective today, you advance to inner disciple of the Forbidden Path Sect and commence a year of ascetic training. Follow me now.”

Zhao Hai never dreamed the ascetic cultivation would strike so abruptly after Zhou Feng’s tale. He had no recourse but to answer Wan Feng, “Yes, Elder Wan. Might I return to my quarters to gather my things first? Then I’ll accompany you.”

Wan Feng showed no opposition, nodding as he said, “Go ahead. I’ll sip tea in the restaurant. Hurry back.” Zhao Hai agreed and dashed away.

Just then, Zhou Feng descended the stairs. Spotting Wan Feng inside, he quickly offered, “Elder Wan, care for a drink?”

Wan Feng eyed Zhou Feng and remarked, “You rascal, why not devote more effort to cultivation? With your aptitude, diligent practice might have landed you in the Teleportation realm by now. Instead, you indulge in food and drink endlessly.”

Zhou Feng, accustomed to such rebukes, brushed them off with ease. He grinned at Wan Feng and replied, “Appreciate the worry, Elder Wan. Truth is, I’ve been training hard, hehe.”

Wan Feng regarded him with resignation. Since Zhou Feng pursued the Evil Buddha Lotus Body, the sect offered scant specific guidance for his path. Thus, they allowed him free rein. Luckily, Zhou Feng understood boundaries. Though fond of revelry, his progress remained steady. Plus, as a Zhou family scion, the sect overlooked his antics.

Soon, Zhao Hai reappeared at the restaurant, just as Wan Feng drained his tea. Upon Zhao Hai’s arrival, he rose and commanded, “Let’s go.” Zhao Hai assented and trailed Wan Feng, with Zhou Feng bringing up the rear. He told Zhao Hai, “Brother, this year of ascetic training holds vital importance for your cultivation; it’s an unbreakable sect rule. I can’t assist, so rely on yourself. I’ll seek you out for drinks in a year.”

Zhao Hai offered a faint smile and responded, “I follow Buddhist techniques, which demand ascetic phases. Yet as a rogue cultivator, I lacked chances before—such practice would’ve gotten me slain swiftly. Now, with this prospect, why squander it? No concerns, Brother Zhou; until next year.”

At Zhao Hai’s words, Zhou Feng laughed heartily, clapping Zhao Hai’s shoulder hard as he said, “Fine brother, I’ll await you. Merely a year—endure it, and it’s done.”

Eying Zhou Feng’s look, Zhao Hai quipped with a wry smile, “You seem to relish my plight.” This sparked another round of laughter from Zhou Feng.

Wan Feng refrained from halting their exchange. Rather, he envied their bond. As a demonic cultivation sect, the Forbidden Path Sect fostered ruthless rivalry among disciples, far fiercer than in righteous paths. True friendships proved scarce here.

Zhou Feng stood apart from typical demonic cultivators. He shunned constant strife, boasting a frank nature that dismissed such pursuits. In other sects, this might yield many allies, but in a demonic one, it bred isolation—or exploitative ties at best.

Still, Zhao Hai proved the exception. Wan Feng, seasoned in judging character, trusted his instincts: Zhao Hai embodied loyalty and righteousness, a friendship that would only aid Zhou Feng.

Rather than guiding Zhao Hai to inner disciple lodgings, Wan Feng directed him to a teleportation array. There, Zhou Feng halted at the edge, saluting Zhao Hai inside with cupped fists: “Brother, farewell here. Until next year.”

Zhao Hai returned the salute and said, “Until next year.” Wan Feng triggered the array, and a white flash swallowed the pair. Zhou Feng stared at the formation, sighed, then departed.

Instantly, Zhao Hai emerged in a vast mine teeming with laborers. No spiritual energy stirred from them; all wore assorted iron armors, their skins tanned, frames gaunt yet muscled, devoid of fat—like hardy workers.

As the array gleamed white, many heads turned. Spotting Zhao Hai and Wan Feng, some chuckled and called, “Hahaha, Elder Wan, fresh unlucky soul arrives. Lad, greet hell.”

Wan Feng shot them a stern glare and snapped, “Enough chatter—back to work. Fail today’s quota, and Elder Xing will flay you.”

The men recoiled at Wan Feng’s threat and resumed labor. Zhao Hai observed their task: stone quarrying with odd tools—iron hammers and chisels for some, wooden for others, bare fists for the rest.

This sight made Zhao Hai’s eyes sharpen. He knew these rocks: Ironstone, famed for supreme toughness rivaling common steel. From it derived Ironstone Metal, prime for crafting everyday weapons. Evidently, this was the Forbidden Path Sect’s Ironstone mine.

Realizing this, Zhao Hai couldn’t suppress a subtle smile. For a grand sect like the Forbidden Path, disciples devoured weapons yearly in droves. Such powers maintained forge halls for self-sufficiency. Forging demanded ores, iron chief among them. Yet Ironstone didn’t deliver itself; mining was essential. Other sects issued quarry missions for ore and disciple gains.

The Forbidden Path Sect diverged sharply. Devoted to body cultivation, they turned the Ironstone Mine into an ascetic forge. Disciples trained via quarrying, yielding ore for the sect while trimming costs. A clever, mutual boon.

Wan Feng escorted Zhao Hai to a cavern abode by the mine, carved into the cliff. Within sat a burly elder with a stern visage. Seeing Wan Feng, the elder nodded curtly and asked, “You’re here. Him?”

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