Chapter 638

Upward Announcement

At noon tomorrow, this book will be officially released; as usual, let me chat a bit with fellow cultivators.

I’ve written many fortuitous encounters, coincidences, sudden reversals of fortune, ascents to the pinnacle, and looking down upon all beings—I didn’t know what to write anymore. Then one day, I suddenly asked myself: if my cousin were in this situation, could he do everything the protagonist here does?

After thinking it over and over, I realized it was impossible. If it were my cousin, he’d likely just go with the flow, endure the hardships of survival amid constant toil, give ten parts of effort and perhaps receive only one—or nothing at all.

Why should others take five or six years, even seven or eight, to advance one level, while I can climb several levels in just one year?

So my cousin thought: write about an ordinary little man, from his perspective, recording the mundane life of an ordinary cultivator. Would fellow cultivators be willing to read such a book?

And so this book came to be.

The synopsis states plainly: this is a notebook recording the small details of a cultivation journey. I originally wanted to call it a “diary,” but my writing isn’t strong enough—I felt I couldn’t complete a million-word novel in diary form—so I settled on “notebook.” In short, it’s just plain, uneventful daily cultivation matters, and I invite you, fellow cultivators, to savor its rice, oil, salt, vinegar, and tea together.

Writing such a book is nerve-wracking: no obvious cheat system, no heroic battles against heaven and earth, no flawless strategic mind—only the struggle to survive, with perhaps a touch of lightness and humor, even a hint of monotony.

Isn’t reading supposed to bring joy, fulfill fantasies, and realize life’s ideals?

Life is already hard enough—why should I come here to subscribe to a book that makes me feel worse?

I’m sorry, but I can’t answer this question—and I dare not answer it.

I simply want to write, to share the slow growth of this ordinary little man—that’s all.

So I write with trepidation, feeling insecure, and I eagerly hope for encouragement.

The greatest encouragement will be tomorrow’s subscription numbers.

Or perhaps the numbers will deliver a crushing blow?

Thank you, patrons—you are my greatest backing, my most steadfast supporters. Every time I see your names, see you arranging your own rankings, I feel boundless joy and inspiration. Indeed, it’s truly inspiring: I started with forty-two patrons, so many others thought I was a bot...

Either way, starting tomorrow, I’ll make up the missed chapters for each patron, one by one, and send you all to transcendence.

Thank you, operations officer San San, for managing every detail for me over the years—even making many uninformed people think you’re paid. Little do they know you receive not a single copper, yet keep pouring your own money in. Whenever I think of it, I’m filled with shame.

Thank you, fellow cultivators in the group, for your unwavering support. Every analysis and critique you offer is a source of inspiration for my writing—you’ve done extraordinary work. Even though I know at least half of you are here for San San, I still salute you: come, embrace this book, embrace San San.

I don’t care who you embrace—I just want you to embrace something.

Also, thank you to my chief editor Bei He and editor Jia Nan: you’ve read my drafts carefully, offered advice, and tirelessly worked from publication to release to promotion—your dedication makes me feel ashamed. I feel my achievements fall far short of your efforts; I can only bow, bow, and bow again.

Lastly, to those who keep this book in their collections: I know my updates are insufficient, short and weak—but keeping it... never mind, I have no right to speak. If you want to keep it, keep it—I’ll hide in the corner and cry while drawing circles.

Answering three questions: 1. This world naturally has spiritual energy, but it concentrates in blessed lands and caves; very little spreads elsewhere, so spirit stones are vital. 2. Cultivation raises your true qi limit; meditation restores true qi. 3. The cultivators of Wulong Mountain certainly live better than the mountain villagers—their hardship lies in acquiring cultivation resources. If they wanted to become wealthy landowners, it wouldn’t be hard, but they all aspire to immortality, valuing spiritual progress over wealth and material things.

Requesting subscriptions, monthly tickets, and recommendation votes—and even more shamelessly, requesting tips.

Oh, Master Bai has organized a small event: tomorrow, he’ll hold a lottery in the patron group, and lucky cultivators will receive a small gift from the orthodox Daoist sect.