Chapter 1: I Turned Out to Be the Cannon Fodder Myself

Under the scorching sun, the air was heavy and oppressive.

Jiang Yeqiu wiped the sweat from her face and knocked on Ji Ning’s door.

“Ningning, the cleaning tasks for this month are all done. I’m counting on you for the tasks in the Medicine Valley!”

After a long pause, a lazy voice came from inside, “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it…”

Hearing the voice through the door’s light, Jiang Yeqiu guessed Ji Ning had probably just woken up.

“I’m off! Remember to eat dinner—there’s your favorite sweet and sour ribs tonight.”

Jiang Yeqiu turned and returned to her own small room, beginning to meditate and cultivate.

Three months later, it was the assessment period for the outer disciples of the Profound Heart Sect—an annual event designed to test the cultivation levels of outer disciples and rank them accordingly.

As mere menial disciples, passing the cultivation assessment would grant entry into the outer sect, unlocking access to greater cultivation resources. Jiang Yeqiu and Ji Ning had been newly recruited menial disciples of the Profound Heart Sect last year.

At first, Ji Ning, like her, spent every moment outside of work, meals, and sleep entirely devoted to cultivation.

But a few months ago, Ji Ning suddenly changed her ways, no longer cultivating alongside her but instead frequently running off to the Medicine Valley.

She even convinced Jiang Yeqiu to jointly lease a plot of spirit farmland to grow spirit herbs.

“Sister Jiang, you do the cleaning work for me usually. I’ll handle planting the spirit herbs alone, and we’ll split the contribution points. How about that?”

That day, driven by some impulse, Jiang Yeqiu agreed without asking how her junior sister, who lived and ate with her, had learned the art of planting.

Yet Ji Ning’s change did not affect Jiang Yeqiu’s resolve; on the path of cultivation, she was determined to fight for herself.

Meanwhile,

Ji Ning did not rise until the sun was high.

She had no idea that, to her senior sister who stayed up late cultivating, Ji Ning appeared as someone lacking ambition.

Originally an ordinary, methodical person, perhaps blessed by fate, Ji Ning had been reborn with memories from two past lives. In every world, she was an insignificant NPC.

In her previous life, she was a hardworking university student who, because she couldn’t see well in the dark, stepped into a sewer and lost consciousness.

When she woke, she had lost all her memories and was born into this world where cultivation was possible.

In this world, Ji Ning’s parents had died in war. At eight years old, she was homeless and wandered alone.

Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that when she drifted into the Wujin Kingdom, it coincided with the Profound Heart Sect’s annual recruitment.

At eight, Ji Ning learned the term “cultivation” for the first time.

Curious, she asked many people, “What is cultivation?”

An ambitious youth told her that cultivation made one powerful—able to traverse heaven and earth, split mountains and seas, nearly omnipotent.

A ragged beggar said cultivation brought endless, inexhaustible wealth.

A benevolent local official said cultivation was about protection—guarding one’s faith and heart.

…

Opinions varied.

But she was moved. She wanted to see with her own eyes what cultivation truly was.

By the time Ji Ning reached the foot of the mountain, the entire path up was already crowded.

People of all ages were present—from elderly folks to young children. The sea of humanity only strengthened Ji Ning’s determination to cultivate.

Naïve and unaware, she didn’t know she was walking a path doomed to death.

Menial disciples competed for contribution points, generally without risking their lives.

But once she reached the outer sect, Ji Ning witnessed the darker side of human nature for the first time.

Senior sisters casually took her task rewards; junior sisters broke magical instruments and framed her; several senior brothers tricked her out of her contribution points with junk…

Eventually, on a beast hunting mission, Ji Ning was used as bait and met a tragic end.

…

Ji Ning didn’t understand why she was reborn, but after the hardships and unfairness of her previous life, she was unwilling to suffer the same fate again.

The weak were always at the mercy of others; only strength was the hard truth.

Though her memories returned, her spiritual roots remained unimproved—she was still a mediocre five-element root with poor talent.

Given her weak spiritual roots and slow cultivation, she couldn’t fix the former immediately but could try to improve the latter.

Relying on years of experience from her past life growing herbs, she understood the habits, traits, and effects of most spirit herbs.

Cultivating spirit herbs was her only viable path for now.

She planted seeds of a spirit herb called Gathering Spirit Grass, bought from the market, in her rented spirit farmland. Within a month, they sprouted and grew, showing initial results.

Usually, she cultivated during the day, but with the recent heat making it unbearable to stay in the fields for long, she changed her schedule.

Last night, she had stayed up late cultivating again.

Shaking her head, still sleepy, she got up and grabbed the culprit disturbing her sleep from the foot of the bed.

“How did you get in here?”

The little fox lifted its pudgy paw, pointing to the side.

Ji Ning turned her head—she had forgotten to close the window…

Last night, they only met briefly in the field, yet the little creature seemed to have latched onto her.

Unlike yesterday’s dusty and grimy appearance, except for its ears and tail tipped with a faint golden-yellow fur, the little fox was mostly covered in smooth white fur.

Its bright golden eyes sparkled, and its eyelashes were clusters of pure white.

Soft and fluffy, utterly adorable.

Keeping such a pet wasn’t out of the question.

Clearing her throat, Ji Ning said seriously, “I might provide shelter, but not necessarily food. Find a place for yourself. This is my territory; only I lie on the bed!”

Then, regardless of whether it understood, Ji Ning tossed it onto the floor and got up to wash and prepare to leave.

The little fox tilted its head, licked its paws, and watched the busy human. Suddenly brightening, it dashed under the bed and dropped something at Ji Ning’s feet.

Its fluffy tail curled around her ankle, the tip brushing her calf, tickling her and stirring a trace of impatience within her.

She picked up the little creature, about to scold it, but her gaze was drawn to the storage pouch it carried.

Menial disciples don’t receive storage pouches, and she had never bought one. This pouch appearing out of nowhere couldn’t be hers.

Using her spiritual sense to scan it, she found no resistance. Was this an ownerless item?

Curious, she emptied its contents—two items.

A simple, unadorned compass and an unnamed book.

The compass was palm-sized, easy to conceal, with a deep bronze surface. Around the rim were eight white beads—four large and four small. The circular center was indented with a single needle.

Judging by the bead positions, the large beads corresponded to the four cardinal directions—east, south, west, north; the small beads to the intercardinal directions—northeast, southeast, northwest, southwest.

But their function was unknown to Ji Ning.

The compass seemed somewhat worth studying, but the unnamed book was extremely plain, filled entirely with blank pages. Ji Ning flipped through it carefully, fearing she might miss some hidden secret technique.

Calmly, Ji Ning looked at the little fox. “Did you find these?”

The little fox nodded, then shook its head.

She tried a different question, “Are these yours?”

Again, the little fox nodded, then shook its head.

Ji Ning couldn’t help but laugh—she was trying to get answers from an untrained spirit beast. Clearly, the problem was hers.

She pocketed the compass, planning to study it further at the Medicine Valley, then grabbed her straw hat and hoisted her hoe, ready to set out.

“Don’t wander off, or you might end up skinned and stewed.”

With that, Ji Ning left.

Last night, the little fox’s arrival had cost her precious cultivation time. Tonight, she intended to make up for it all.

The little fox drooped its ears and folded its paws, lying on the ground. Separated by a door, it wagged its tail and soon drifted into sleep.