Chapter 989: What Is Called Welfare

Xiang Weiyuan calculated the time, reread the official document, then personally wrote a letter of recommendation, published the document, and set the date for the temporary Dao Foundation Ceremony.

Less than an hour later, new notices appeared on announcement boards across every major city in Qingming. Crowds gathered to read them in silence, then whispered among themselves, exchanging opinions. Any household with a suitable cultivator rushed home to deliver the news—this was a direct path to the Law Body; if successful, one could even surpass Dao Foundation Ancestors.

Several foreign merchants stood at a distance, watching the throng beneath the announcement board. An elder merchant said to the young men beside him: “Qingming differs from other places in one way. Can you see what it is?”

The young men were baffled, guessing several things, but none were correct.

The elder merchant said: “Didn’t you notice? Beneath the announcement board here, there are no readers.”

Only then did the young men realize—it was true.

In the other nine countries, notice boards typically had readers—scholars who, when idle, would read announcements aloud to the public; for important matters, the government would assign designated personnel to read them.

But in Qingming, there were no readers at all—not even for something as critical as the temporary Dao Foundation Ceremony. People simply glanced quickly and hurried away.

One young man reacted fastest, thinking deeper, and exclaimed in shock: “Does everyone in Qingming know how to read?!”

The merchant sighed: “Even if not everyone can read, most can.”

“This… Qingming is this wealthy?” The young men were stunned. They had just arrived and had already found it incredible that everyone in Qingming ate meat—but now they learned everyone could read!

The merchant narrowed his eyes, then led the young men away.

At the announcement board in Yong’an City, Xiang Xiaoyu stood at a distance, reading the new notice, especially Xiang Weiyuan’s prominent recommendation letter, and frowned: “Why didn’t he sign his name?”

The Shaoyang Star Lord said: “He desperately needs people to carry the burden, yet still takes only his fair share—should we call him virtuous, or simply stubborn and out of touch?”

Xiang Xiaoyu said: “I deliberately left my name off. He should understand. But wait—this guy is usually shameless, with a face thicker than a divine artifact. Why would he be so polite? And this is no time for face!”

The Shaoyang Star Lord was also puzzled, but suddenly a thought arose. He pondered it, and Xiang Xiaoyu sensed it simultaneously.

Is it possible that, in Xiang Weiyuan’s eyes, the fate of Dao Foundation cultivators isn’t that important?

Qingming operated with extreme efficiency; within two hours, the news spread across the entire region, reaching the merchant houses of every major clan stationed in Qingming. The Xu, Bao, Zhao-Li, and Cui clans each had at least one Spirit Treasure-level communication device, capable of instantly transmitting messages to their distant homelands—though messages were limited to twenty or thirty characters.

The Bao clan had even installed a Divine Artifact in Bao Yun’s Ding’an City, requiring two relay stations to transmit the message all the way back to their distant homeland.

Half a day after Xiang Weiyuan decided to publish the notice, the distant Xu and Bao clans erupted in activity—young heirs packed their belongings and sprinted toward the specially prepared high-speed flying vessels.

Many who couldn’t make it in time were carried by their elders through the air. The two great clans, flush with wealth, had prepared not only the fastest Divine-class flying vessels, but also assigned multiple Jing Elder pilots to take turns piloting them, ensuring timely arrival in Qingming.

Xiang Weiyuan began gradually gathering fate, but this trickle was far from sufficient—even if some of it was high-grade fate.

The number of cultivators was still too small, and none were above Gao Xiu—their impact was negligible. But the fate of commoners was boundless, an endless ocean.

As his accumulation of commoner fate grew, Xiang Weiyuan felt as if he carried a great mountain as he moved slowly, every gesture stirring some invisible sea, ripples spreading outward endlessly, though he knew not what they affected.

Each day, Xiang Weiyuan gained new insights, gradually realizing that while commoner fate was the most basic and seemingly useless, when accumulated to a certain scale, it seemed to undergo a transformation. Clearly, commoner fate held great secrets—Zhao-Li Immortal himself had once said one must pass through one hundred million units of commoner fate.