Half an hour later, I stumbled upon a perfect meadow of Blue Flax and harvested it completely, extracting nearly three glasses of sap. The next step was purification and distillation, yielding a hundred milligrams of pure toxin. Afterward, I searched for a thorn from a suitable tree and carefully drilled a hole through it using Qi. Finally, I fashioned the thorn into a crude syringe, using the stomach of a freshly killed rabbit as a reservoir for the poison.
Right at noon, I returned to the square and scanned the area. Of all the workers I had “hired” only two had shown up, and they seemed to be here more out of curiosity than obligation. As for He Ro In, he was meditating in his quarters, processing the Qi from the pills I had made for him.
I didn’t bother trying to persuade him to keep his word. It was already clear that he wasn’t planning to go anywhere for the next few hours. So, I approached the door to his quarters, turned the wooden latch to dust with a flick of my hand, then burst inside at full speed and struck him directly on the head, injecting Qi from the seal in my hand.
Unfamiliar Qi entering the body caused spasms and convulsions, especially if it came from a stronger cultivator. While there was a simple method to neutralize this “poison” — by mixing the foreign Qi with one’s own and then either expelling or absorbing it, injecting Qi directly into the brain immediately rendered the target unconscious. Recovering from this state without assistance was extremely difficult.
This phenomenon was well-documented in the alchemy texts I’d read; it was a typical result of ingesting a high-grade pill beyond one’s capacity to control its "medical Qi." Knowing exactly what I was doing, I applied a slight variation of the technique, using the "Qi Blade" embedded in my seal. However, instead of draining energy, I injected it.
Once He Ro In collapsed into unconsciousness, I immediately injected my thorn-syringe into his carotid artery and emptied all the poison into his bloodstream. A minute later, I cleared his brain of my Qi to revive him, but by then the toxin had already taken effect, delivering its unforgettable sensation.
According to the book, Blue Flax sap was used in torture and executions. It inflicted such agony that even basic Qi manipulation became impossible. It was effective only against cultivators at the Foundation Establishment Stage or lower. For more advanced practitioners, it was little more than a mild inconvenience—though it still caused diarrhea. That was why no one bothered eradicating it from the area.
He Ro In began screaming and convulsing violently. Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, I dragged him outside and threw him into the center of the square. A crowd quickly gathered, drawn by the commotion, but no one dared to help him.
“He broke our agreement and refused to help build my house” - I declared loudly. - “This is his punishment. In ten minutes, I expect all my debtors here. Those who don’t show up will consider sharing his fate as a mercy.”
With that, I turned and went back into He Ro In’s quarters to conduct a thorough search. I had already confiscated all the valuable items from his spatial ring.
As I rummaged through his belongings, tearing through his hidden stashes, the steward of the Outer Court, Wang Zhu Tang, appeared in the square. He took one look at the writhing body in the pool of bluish blood, asked a few questions of the onlookers, and left without even bothering to address me. It was clear enough what had happened.
“Well then, who’s ready to work for me today? Or perhaps someone else needs some pills?”
The crowd stared at me with wide eyes. In response, I swept my gaze over them with the Malicious Gaze, and they shrank back, trying to avoid making eye contact. A few moments later, the most “responsible” of my debtors rushed over, falling to their knees and shouting that they were eager to work for me for the rest of their lives.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
In the end, I had assembled a work crew and led them to the construction site. The other disciples, who were responsible for cleaning up the area, began disposing of what remained of the once proud and strong He Ro In, a third-level Foundation Establishment cultivator.
To start, I tasked the weakest disciples in the group with clearing the site of all vegetation. The rest I led to the rock outcrop. There, I adapted a Qi-thread technique I’d learned for slicing through the rocky mass in vertical cuts. This method was slow but effective, and I was in no rush after all, I was building a house, not carving up an army of enemies. Once I had separated a "slab” I cut it into individual "logs” which my workers then transported to the construction site.
Surprisingly, carrying the blocks wasn’t as difficult for the laborers as I had anticipated. By reinforcing their bodies with Qi, three or four disciples could carry a single block without much strain. After all, the goal wasn’t to torture them like Sisyphus but simply to move the materials from point A to point B. Still, for some of them, even this task proved too much, so I “motivated” them with encouraging shouts.
“Come on, stop slacking! Your bodies are too weak, and that’s why your cultivation suffers. You must saturate your muscles with Qi to prevent them from tearing when carrying stones. You also need to fortify your bones so they don’t break when a stone falls on your foot. And most importantly, you must channel Qi to your brains to start thinking ahead about the consequences of trying to deceive me. Now, get moving! Faster, faster! Hop to it! And yes, you, also strengthen those bones!”
Despite some minor injuries, the construction proceeded smoothly overall. I applied my healing skills while disguising them as the effects of “miraculous pills” made from nothing more than clay and random weeds. The main challenge was ensuring that the weeds I used didn’t include Blue Flax, or my workers would be out of commission for three days.
I approached the construction with care. Unlike the rickety shacks most Outer Court disciples lived in, structures so unstable they looked ready to collapse at a moment’s notice, I made sure to lay a proper foundation, clearing the ground down to the bedrock. I began placing the granite blocks, binding them together with a Qi thread that melted a thin layer of stone, fusing the blocks into a seamless monolith. This method ensured the walls would have exceptional strength. With a solid grasp of mechanics and structural engineering, I built without fear that the stone roof would come crashing down on my head.
By evening, a solid and reliable mansion stood before me, complete with a basement, two floors, and a large gabled roof. The structure was built to withstand not only rain and snow but also hail, tsunamis, tornadoes, and volcanic eruptions. I still needed to finish the interior, decorate the walls with ornaments, install doors and furniture, but even in its current state, the house was considered “livable” by local standards and an impressive display of status. After all, it wasn’t some ramshackle hut with a dirt floor but a proper stone palace.
“Well, there you go, nothing to be afraid of. We finished it all in one day. I’m proud of you!”
While I admired my new home, bathed in the rays of the setting sun, my workers lay sprawled on the ground, groaning and catching their breath. Two of them even managed to break through to the next cultivation level when a granite slab fell on them. The butthole strain was so intense that their Qi spontaneously condensed, without the need for any pills.
“Tomorrow, you’ll work on landscaping the grounds. We’ll need to build a retaining wall to support the slope here, another to create a terrace there, and perhaps some granite tables and benches. Oh, and bring a couple of trees from the forest to plant.”
The collective groan from the workers made it clear they understood the massive workload ahead, possibly even greater than today’s.
Feeling satisfied, I accompanied my workers to dinner. I made sure they all received double portions of food since they’d need their strength for another day of grueling labor. Interestingly, more than half of my workers were of a higher cultivation level than me, but none dared object to my authoritative tone. And when I cast the Malicious Gaze their way, they became as docile as lambs.
The next morning, as my workers toiled diligently with full dedication, other disciples came by to marvel at my mansion. They quickly realized that by rallying just a dozen or so workers into a group, it was entirely possible to build decent homes instead of living in pitiful shacks.
Some began pondering the idea of constructing their own “village homes.” I immediately seized the opportunity to advertise my crew of professional builders, promising timely completion and adherence to blueprints. Upon hearing this, my workers almost howled in despair, though only until I announced the pricing structure and promised to share two-thirds of the profits with them.