Chapter 53: Power Formation Plan

Cang Luo healed himself while listening to Brother Liang’s teachings.

Could I enter the Inner Sect within a year?

Who knows what things will be like in a year? I might not even still be on Yuanwu Continent then...

Cang Luo paid no mind to Brother Liang’s words, but the others cared deeply, staring at him with envy.

A cultivator of average talent, a laborer disciple, typically needs at least three years to advance from Outer Sect to Inner Sect—yet Brother Liang said Cang Luo needed only one more year. How could these average disciples not envy him?

What does it mean to reach the Warrior Master realm?

Take joining the army: a Warrior Master can serve as a Company Commander in the Great Chu Army, commanding four Platoon Leaders and a hundred soldiers—a minor officer indeed.

Above the Company Commander is the Battalion Commander, the highest officer of a Garrison, overseeing ten Company Commanders and a thousand soldiers—but one must be at least a Wu Ling to hold that post.

In other words, becoming an Inner Sect disciple, even if you never advance further, guarantees a respectable start if you join the military.

Besides, cultivation is possible within the army; higher cultivation base means higher rank, though competition is far fiercer than in the sect.

Cultivation resources are earned solely through military merit—by taking enemy heads!

After offering a few words of encouragement to the disciples, Brother Liang prepared to leave with Brothers Wang and Liu, saying they would end training early today, granting them a short break to eat well, drink well, and train hard tomorrow.

But... as he left, he casually took a pair of spear-boar ears and one hind leg.

Cang Luo’s eyes widened, fixed on Brother Liang, muttering, “That’s what I risked my life for,” making the man visibly embarrassed.

Brother Liang held the ears and hind leg, watching Cang Luo’s mouth twitch uncontrollably, unsure whether to put the meat down or keep it.

How could this man be so unreasonable?

I am your Duty Officer—I’ve diligently guided you daily. What’s wrong with taking a little something?

Isn’t it right for you to show respect to your Duty Officer?

Wait... I don’t think I ever taught him anything—he’s new...

Finally, Brother Liang, face dark, said to Cang Luo: “Hmm, this meat counts as your monthly task item.”

Saying this, he hurried off; Brothers Wang and Liu quickly followed, murmuring about where to get a drink.

As soon as the three Duty Officers left, several disciples surrounded Cang Luo, asking how he had cultivated so fast.

Cang Luo naturally couldn’t tell them he was from Earth and could absorb Yuan Qi rapidly—he simply said he fought deadly battles with beasts in the Monster Forest, ate beast cores and meat, and absorbed Yuan Qi from the forest.

After brushing them off, Cang Luo pointed to the spear-boar missing ears and a leg: “Can we light a fire here? Let’s roast it right now—also, let me get to know you all.”

“Of course.”

It was Zhao Ren who spoke, pointing to a flat patch of ground a few meters away: “That’s downwind—perfect for a fire, won’t bother anyone.”

Let’s get some wine too. We’ll eat meat, drink, and chat like brothers, how’s that?”

“Good! Zhao Brother’s idea is excellent.”

“First, to celebrate today’s victory; second, to welcome Cang Brother back...”

The other disciples eagerly agreed, some even drooling, eyes gleaming at the spear-boar.

It wasn’t just because spear-boar meat tasted good—it also strengthened the body and boosted cultivation.

But most Tier-One beasts were inedible: too foul and tough, or poisonous.

Or they oozed disgusting fluids—worse than ordinary livestock. Spear-boars, with their rich, tender meat, were extremely rare. How could they not be thrilled?

Zhao Ren nodded in satisfaction, completely forgetting his recent defeat at Chen Da’s hands.

Now he directed several junior disciples to skin and gut the beast, even pulled out silver taels to send two to Xuantian Town to buy wine—as if the spear-boar were his own, and this feast his own initiative.

Nearby, Cang Luo noticed Zhao Ren was taking over the scene, but he didn’t care—everyone was happy.

The twenty-five disciples from three dormitories laughed and chatted, some preparing the beast, others lighting fires, others chatting—everything seemed harmonious. Yet Cang Luo noticed something interesting.

He realized this small group of fewer than thirty had split into factions—no, now three.

One faction, led by Zhao Ren, was the largest, with sixteen or seventeen members who obeyed him without question.

Another faction was smaller, only five people, all clustered around Cang Feng, doing whatever he did—Liu Xuande and Li Zhan were among them.

The third faction had just emerged: several disciples were deliberately approaching Cang Luo, asking after his injuries, showing concern, being overly warm.

Cang Luo understood: these were junior disciples seeking a senior’s protection.

In that moment, Cang Luo suddenly had an idea.

A hero needs three helpers. Shouldn’t I build my own faction? After all, one man is weak; many are strong.

Think of Chen Dalong and Chen Dahu—they had a faction, their boss was Ouyang Lie, a Warrior General at the Ninth Layer, someone who wanted to kill me!

Cang Luo looked at the group, thinking he must build his faction early—especially now, when everyone was just beginning cultivation, with similar base and background, the perfect time to form bonds.

If I offer them benefits and help now, I’ll win their hearts completely.

Though I’m penniless—with no connections, no cultivation resources—they’re no better off. All commoners, their only advantage is being a few years younger than me.

But I have the satellite as my external aid—I can take them into the Monster Forest to train.

With the satellite’s surveillance, we can safely find lone beasts and rare herbs, gather everything, and leave the forest unharmed.

Occasionally reveal the power of the Annihilation Body Art and infinite Yuan Qi, slowly demonstrating my abilities, nurturing brotherhood, earning their trust and loyalty...

Thinking this, Cang Luo stopped the two disciples Zhao Ren had sent to buy wine. They halted, puzzled, glancing at Cang Luo, then at Zhao Ren.

Zhao Ren walked up to Cang Luo, slightly puzzled: “Cang Brother, do you need them to buy something?”

At this moment, he had switched from calling Cang Luo “Brother” to “Younger Brother.”

In his mind: my cultivation is one layer lower than yours, but I’m six years younger.

By age, isn’t my talent far superior to your old-man cultivation? Even if your cultivation is one layer higher now—how long will that last?

In the long run, how can you compare to me, Zhao Ren?

Not only Zhao Ren thought this way—his dozen or so followers thought the same, and even those who hadn’t realized it understood after Zhao Renli’s subtle hint.

Cang Luo shook his head, pointing to five Outer Sect disciples sprinting toward them from hundreds of meters away, each carrying two sacks—the leader a fat man—smiling: “I’ve already arranged the wine.”

“Arranged?”

Zhao Ren followed Cang Luo’s finger and saw five figures approaching, each carrying two sacks, the contents clinking loudly.

The sound of wine jars clashing—there were many!

As they drew nearer, Zhao Ren’s narrow eyebrows furrowed in surprise: “Wang Fuhai?”

“Oh? Zhao Brother knows Wang Fuhai?”

“Yes, I know him—but he doesn’t know me. His family runs a trading house in Danyang County, quite wealthy. Otherwise, how could he reach Warrior Eighth Layer on his own?” Zhao Ren sneered.

Cang Luo nodded, saying nothing—he heard the faint bitterness in Zhao Ren’s tone.

But that was normal. On Earth, Cang Luo often wondered why he wasn’t a rich second-generation, why he had to spend his life as a lowly worker.

But luckily, he’d been reborn. If he couldn’t be a rich second-generation, he’d make his descendants one.

No—a Wu Second-Generation!

Thinking of the future, Cang Luo grew more determined, watching Wang Fuhai and the others lumbering toward them, surprisingly fast—his fat body showed no hindrance.

Of course—this was a world of cultivators. Power came from Yuan Qi, not muscle mass.

Soon, Wang Fuhai and the four others appeared before them.

“Cang Brother, I didn’t come too late, did I?”

Wang Fuhai greeted Cang Luo, then squinted around until he spotted the spear-boar being skinned and gutted—then he sighed in relief.

Then Wang Fuhai and the others unrolled the ten sacks.

Pots, pans, chopsticks, cleavers—all present; several prepared chickens, ducks, and other common livestock; some fruits, vegetables; dozens of wine jars...

Cang Luo stared, dumbfounded. My god—what’s this guy planning?

A barbecue party?

The others were stunned too, whispering: What’s this guy’s relationship with Cang Brother? Why such generosity?

The wine alone was the most expensive—this entire haul cost at least one or two hundred silver taels.

Li Zhan stepped beside Cang Luo, astonished: “Cang Brother, when did you meet this rich guy?”

“Uh... just now.”

Cang Luo rubbed his stubble, eyes gleaming at Wang Fuhai—he hadn’t expected Wang Fuhai to be this wealthy. He’d have to cultivate this connection well.

After all, building a faction required serious financial backing...

After a moment’s thought, Cang Luo warmly said: “Not late at all—we were waiting for Brother Wang. Come, come—I’ll introduce you...”