Chapter Forty-Four: Simulating Xiao Bao Once Again

Emerald green mountains stretched all around.
The young man was imitating a monkey’s call; the boy wielded a bamboo sword, practicing his moves; a little child sat quietly on the ground, regulating his breath.
As for the Daoist, he was, as always, sprawled out on his bamboo chair, fast asleep.
Lin Ze could only sigh in resignation. Every day, after swallowing a single Foundation Establishment Pill, his Dao foundation would feel full to bursting. If not for his desire to improve his aptitude, there would hardly be any need to study the innate arts at all.
His progress in cultivating immortal arts was unbelievably rapid—almost beyond the comprehension of ordinary people.
Immersed in the simulator, three years could pass in the blink of an eye.
At this moment, his mastery of the Four Seasons Cycle Palm had reached consummate perfection, while the progress of the Innate Moonlight Sword was slower. Even after using two attempts, he had only just reached entry level; the higher the quality of the technique, the more difficult it was for someone with low aptitude to comprehend.
As for the Innate True Fire, he hadn’t even begun.
Noting that he had only three attempts left for the day, Lin Ze counted the Foundation Establishment Pills in his cloth pouch at his waist.
Forty-two.
Not bad.
They should suffice for now.
Currently, the best rewards he could obtain from the simulator were the sword spheres and Foundation Establishment Pills.
After his last exchange with Zhao Jing, Lin Ze had realized the limitations of the sword spheres. While crushing a handful at once unleashed a formidable power—like a dozen Foundation Establishment sword cultivators striking in unison, enough to force even Zhao Jing into a hasty retreat—it was only effective for repelling, not for killing.
After all, the attack was singular in nature, and could not truly be compared to facing a dozen cultivators at once.
Moreover, with only ten spheres produced per day, even he felt reluctant to use them freely.
“I need to find something new,” he muttered, turning his gaze to his three disciples—though, to be accurate, it was more like two and a half.
Although Yang Mu resided on Little Green Mountain, in the records of the Southern Hall he was still listed under Huayang Peak.
To bring him over, he would need the consent of both Huayang Peak and Little Green Mountain.
Lin Ze reckoned that Grandmaster Zhao Jing would never approve, but it didn’t matter; all he needed was the character card. With Huayang Peak involved, it actually provided an excellent opportunity to build trust.
For now, he decided to check on the little ones.
After the simulator was upgraded to level two, two skill cards could be placed simultaneously. Lin Ze hadn’t used this feature before because a span of three years was too short, and would only slow down the character’s progress.
An ordinary character, after three years, would be lucky to bring a low-grade technique to minor achievement—any more would be wishful thinking.
Clearly, Xiao Bao did not belong in that category.

The more initial skills bestowed, the further he could go.
[Xiao Bao: Legendary Grade]
[Spirit-Grade Skill Card: Innate Art]
[High-Grade Skill Card: Innate True Fire]
[Simulation Duration: Three years]
[Simulation Start]
…
…
The familiar elevated perspective returned.
The entire green mountain lay in full view.
The child tugged at the Daoist’s sleeve. “Master… can’t you take Xiao Bao with you this time?”
The Daoist in the blue robe sighed, gazed deeply at him, and softened his tone as much as he could. “Don’t be mischievous. Stay quietly on the mountain.”
“Brother Yao and Brother Mu get to go with Master…” Xiao Bao’s small face crumpled, but he obediently let go.
Lin Ze had seen this scene at least ten times before.
From repeated simulations, he had deduced a pattern: if he simulated himself, the Daoist—though unaware of the simulator’s existence—could use items drawn from it, such as Foundation Establishment Pills and sword spheres.
If he simulated someone else, he was just an ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator—a bystander.
In that scenario, burdened with a debt of nine hundred spirit stones, it was like earning a modest salary in his previous life while owing a fortune—obviously impossible to repay. Not fleeing the Eastern Mountain Sect to escape the debt, or simply jumping off a cliff, was already admirable.
“Still wants to turn things around, huh.” Lin Ze chuckled and shook his head.
Usually, Xiao Bao would obediently remain on Little Green Mountain, but today was different.
No sooner had the Daoist left than the child’s black eyes began to dart mischievously.
Without even switching perspectives, Lin Ze could tell at a glance what the little rascal was plotting. Now, with a fledgling cultivation and Innate True Fire at his disposal, he was unlikely to suppress his urges.
But this was exactly what Lin Ze had intended to cultivate.
Nine hundred spirit stones was indeed a hefty sum, but Lin Ze was no fool; his old master had never earned even a single Foundation Establishment Pill in his life, so their value was clearly immense.
If they sold them all to repay the Southern Hall, life inside the simulator would be much easier for his little group.
However, setting aside the question of how much the debt had to do with him, Xiao Bao’s legendary character card had one fatal flaw: his temperament. He lacked the heart for struggle and dominance; in simple terms, his desire to grow stronger was insufficient.

Master tells me to cultivate, so I sit and practice quietly.
Whatever Master gives me, I use.
Others may have spirit stones and magical treasures, but as long as I have enough to eat, I’m content.
…
Of course, this wasn’t a bad thing for the child, but for Lin Ze, it made a world of difference.
The Xiao Bao outside could live freely, but the one inside the simulator could not—he needed a bit of motivation.
So, the little fellow quietly slipped down the mountain, but, unable to find his way, wandered aimlessly.
Eventually, he encountered two outer disciples. He hurried over, tilted his head, and politely asked, “Excuse me, brothers, how do I get to the Southern Hall?”
“Is this little guy one of our sect’s disciples?” The two young men chuckled at his naive, obedient manner and squatted down to tease him. “Little brother, how long have you been in the sect?”
Xiao Bao counted on his fingers and grinned. “Almost a month now.”
“Oh?” Hearing his country accent, the disciples laughed even harder. “Why are you heading to the Southern Hall? Skipping class at your age—come, we’ll take you to a lecture.”
“I don’t want to go,” the child shook his head. “Master has already taught me cultivation techniques.”
At those words, the two disciples exchanged glances. “Master?”
A moment later, they both cupped their hands and forced a wry smile. “Why play tricks on us, brother? Just follow that road for thirty miles and you’ll reach the Southern Hall.”
A sect disciple so young—whose family could he possibly belong to?
Utterly confused by the two older brothers’ sudden change in demeanor, Xiao Bao blinked, hurriedly thanked them, and startled them into taking several steps back. In the end, they simply led him toward the Southern Hall.
Soon, a majestic jet-black building appeared ahead.
On the plaque above, mountain patterns were carved, with a crescent moon amid clouds above them.
Two blue-robed stewards, adorned with mountain emblems, stood coldly at the entrance, overseeing hundreds of passing disciples.
Inside, a long queue stretched to the left; to the right, endless counters lined the wall. Though the hall was crowded, everything was orderly—no one dared raise their voice.
“Brother, are you here to make a purchase?” one of the young men bent down to ask.
“No, I… I want to take on a task.” Suddenly faced with so many people, Xiao Bao shrank back nervously.