Chapter 13
"Alright, sit," Huan Zheng ordered while pointing at a flat stone by the riverbank, then he sat across from it with his legs lazily crossed, "because this will take a while, and I don't feel like standing."
Ling Xu took her seat, while Huan Zheng began to speak—his tone remained lazy, flat like someone reciting meaningless notes, yet each word was arranged with a strange orderliness, like a grand elder explaining the laws of Dao in an empty hall late at night.
"In the Star Foundation realm—which consists of Lower Star, Common Star, Singular Star, and Supernatural Star—a cultivator raises their level by collecting Star fragments. Each level requires a different amount. And each fragment must match the Star you possess—Humanity must be Humanity, Singularity must be Singularity. They cannot be mixed."
He paused, making sure Ling Xu was listening—the girl listened with eyes that barely blinked, like a child hearing a bedtime story.
"The First Level of the Lower Star," Huan Zheng continued, "requires 100 fragments. The Second Level 235. The Third 777. The Fourth 1,888. The Fifth 2,666."
Ling Xu nodded, trying to remember, but Huan Zheng had already continued without pause.
"The Sixth Level of the Common Star requires 3,555. The Seventh 4,444. The Eighth 5,555. The Ninth 7,733. The Tenth 10,000. The Eleventh 19,999. The Twelfth 28,777."
He took a breath, then continued at the same pace.
"The One Star begins from the Thirteenth Level at 33,333. The Fourteenth 66,678. The Fifteenth 100,000. The Sixteenth 188,888. The Seventeenth 399,988. The Eighteenth 860,666. The Nineteenth 5,000,000. The Twentieth 6,000,000. The Twenty-First 20,000,000. The Twenty-Second 39,000,000."
Huan Zheng exhaled—this time, his breath truly sounded tired, not feigned.
"The Supernatural Star: the Twenty-Third Level requires 55,000,000. The Twenty-Fourth 88,000,000. The Twenty-Fifth 122,000,000. The Twenty-Sixth 424,000,000. The Twenty-Seventh 777,000,000. The Twenty-Eighth 888,000,000. The Twenty-Ninth 20,000,000,000. The Thirtieth 80,000,000,000. The Thirty-First 333,333,333,333. The Thirty-Second 777,777,777,777. And the Thirty-Third—"
He stopped, looking at Ling Xu with eyes that suddenly seemed very old, very tired.
"9,999,999,999,999,999 fragments."
Ling Xu fell silent.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Opened it again, then closed it once more.
Like a fish thrown onto land, not knowing how to breathe.
"Those... those numbers..." she finally whispered, her voice sounding like someone who had just realized their debt could never be repaid even after ten thousand years of labor.
"Those are numbers that make no sense," Huan Zheng continued, finishing her sentence.
"And that is why not many reach the Supernatural Star, let alone the Heavenly Longitude, let alone break through the 10 Vast Cosmos Falling Crystals. Because these numbers are not just large—they are hungry. Hungry for fragments, hungry for time, hungry for lives."
Ling Xu remained silent, those insane numbers spinning in her head like a flock of birds unable to find a place to land, when Huan Zheng—still in a lazy tone that sounded like someone explaining how to use a spoon—spoke again.
"There are four ways to gather fragments, Miss Poison. Maybe five, but the fifth can only be done by the dead or those about to die, so don't bother thinking about it."
Ling Xu blinked, trying to push away the dizziness from her temples.
"Four ways?"
Huan Zheng raised his fingers one by one, like a teacher explaining to a slow student.
"First, from tasks—given by officials, superiors, anyone with authority and wealth. Second, by seizing—kill your opponent, take their fragments. Fastest method, also the most dangerous. Third, self-cultivation—every cultivator can grow fragments within their body, but it takes a long time, and sometimes your own mind refuses to cooperate."
He paused, yawned, then continued.
"Fourth, specifically for healers like you: healing. Every wound you heal, every life you save, the world rewards you with fragments. In the past, this method was sweet—one or two fragments per patient."
Ling Xu's eyes began to shine, but Huan Zheng extinguished that light with his next words.
"Now? Humanity won the Harmony Conflict. They restrict the remaining gods. Healer goddesses like you only get half a fragment per patient. Meanwhile, human healers—who also heal—get four to ten fragments."
Ling Xu felt her chest tighten.
Not because of the Cancer plague residing within her, but because of the injustice that struck like a wet slap across her face.
"Half a fragment?" she whispered, her voice trembling between anger and despair, "while those who slaughtered my family receive four to ten?"
Huan Zheng shrugged, his expression unchanged—still lazy, still flat, as if there was nothing unusual about injustice being the daily meal of this world.
"That's the world after the Harmony Conflict, Miss Poison. The victors write the rules. The losers either accept them—or die."
He picked up a blade of grass from the ground, playing with it between his fingers, then added,
"And the situation is worsened by one fact: traveling healers have flooded the world after the war. Too many think healing is easier than fighting. As a result, rewards per patient are reduced—and for goddesses like you, reduced more severely than for humans. The result: you work ten times harder to earn half of what they get with a single grab."
He tossed the grass into the river, then looked at Ling Xu with eyes that suddenly seemed slightly sharper.
"But don't get it wrong, Miss Poison. Half a fragment is still half a fragment. If you heal a thousand people, you have 500 fragments. Enough to bring you to the Fourth Level of the Lower Star—maybe the Fifth, if you're diligent. And that's already more than enough to keep you from dying on the first day of battle."
Ling Xu bit her lower lip, trying to digest all the information crashing into her mind like a rain of stones, then she let out a long breath—long and deep, like someone who had just realized her journey would not be as short as she had imagined.
"So," she said slowly, "I have to heal. Heal many people. Tirelessly. Without complaint. Just to earn half a fragment each time?"
Huan Zheng nodded.
"Or you could kill. But at the First Level of the Lower Star, who are you going to kill? Ants? They don't have fragments either."
Ling Xu gave a bitter smile, then shook her head.
Not in refusal, but in acceptance—that her only choice was not a pleasant one.
"Alright," Ling Xu finally said, rising from the flat stone and straightening her robe, which was torn in several places, "I'll become a traveling healer again. But this time, I won't hide my hair. I'll let them know that a Goddess is treating their wounds—so they feel ashamed, so they remember that behind all their hatred, there is still a hand willing to help."
Huan Zheng snorted.
Not mockery, but a form of agreement disguised as a snort because he was too lazy to put it into words.
"Do as you like, Miss Poison. Just don't die. I don't want the poison in my body to activate just because its main host dies."
To be continued…