As mealtime approached, the students weren’t about to starve themselves just to wait for the C- and D-grade assessment results. Lin Zihan walked out of the ability testing room with light steps and gave Jiang Luokui a playful wink.
Abilities scoring between 40 and 60 were classified as C-grade. Lin Zihan had barely made it into that category, with a score of 45.
“Alright, last one.”
Old Zhang reset the machine and gestured for Jiang Luokui to lie down.
“Activate your ability.”
Jiang Luokui lay in the cold machine and instinctively began circulating her cultivation technique.
Wait—that’s wrong.
This wasn’t the cultivation world. Techniques shouldn’t work here… Huh? Where did this spiritual energy come from!?
The spiritual energy in the air surged toward her like a flood finding an outlet, pouring into her body. Driven by her technique, it forcefully crashed against her blocked meridians.
The pain hit so hard that her vision went black, and she nearly cried out.
Only after each acupoint was forcefully opened with a small gap, completing one full circulation, did the pain gradually fade.
Old Zhang waited but sensed no fluctuation in her ability, so he reminded her, “Student Jiang Luokui, have you activated your ability?”
Teacher Lu frowned. “What, can’t it be detected?”
Lin Zihan crouched by the doorway and peeked inside. Even if Luokui was only D-grade, the machine shouldn’t fail to detect anything, right?
Jiang Luokui had assumed there was no overlap between the two worlds. She never expected that cultivation techniques would still work here—and that this world also contained spiritual energy!
She took a deep breath and made an excuse. “Sorry, my ability level is a bit low… it’s hard to activate.”
Old Zhang fell silent. That sounded really low. He coughed lightly. “I see. Try a few more times, no rush.”
“Thank you, teacher.”
Her steady voice carried a trace of barely concealed excitement.
Agronomy and spiritual plant cultivation were completely different systems. But if she could still cultivate, didn’t that mean everything she learned as a spiritual planter in the cultivation world could be used here too?
Good, good—none of it was wasted! Everything she learned across two lifetimes still mattered!
Suddenly, Jiang Luokui didn’t feel like dying anymore. She could still keep going.
Seeing no change on the display, Teacher Lu sighed. “Still can’t activate it?”
Suppressing her excitement, Jiang Luokui awkwardly triggered her ability.
“There’s a response,” Old Zhang said.
But when the data stabilized, all three of them staring at the screen gasped in surprise.
Her ability value was only 35, matching her D-grade.
But strangely, her capacity read 50/100.
What a bizarre set of numbers…
Lin Zihan spoke hesitantly, “Teachers… isn’t something off with this result?”
“A difference within 5 is normal, but hers is off by 15. That shouldn’t happen…” Old Zhang looked at Teacher Lu in confusion.
Teacher Lu was silent for a moment. “…A measurement error?”
Old Zhang shook his head firmly. “The machine doesn’t make mistakes. Something must have gone wrong in the process. Jiang, don’t get up yet—we’ll test again.”
A difference of 15?
Jiang Luokui remembered that in her previous life, her capacity was only around 40. Why such a big change? Was it due to her rebirth, or the accidental opening of her meridians just now…?
Quietly, she used the tiny bit of spiritual energy she had to seal her opened meridians before starting the second test.
Two minutes later, Old Zhang let out a long breath, smiling in relief.
“Now this looks normal. The first result must’ve been chaotic because the ability activation was too slow.”
This time, her capacity measured at 40. Although a difference of 5 was still uncommon, it was within a normal range compared to before.
It seemed that in the future, lower-level students should activate their abilities beforehand to ensure accurate readings.
Jiang Luokui got off the machine, staring thoughtfully at the display. Spiritual energy clearly influenced ability metrics. Just drawing energy into her body had already boosted her future potential to C-grade.
Then what if she reached Foundation Establishment… or Core Formation?
Would her ability also rise to A-grade… or even S-grade?
She had thought her life was already bleak—but now it seemed there was hope beyond every turn.
Teacher Lu checked his watch. “Since we’re done, let’s go. Old Zhang, I owe you a meal.”
“Oh no, it’s already past twelve! I need to go grab some nutrient soil!” Lin Zihan’s legs were numb from squatting, but she limped stubbornly toward the teaching building. “Luokui, I’m heading off! Don’t forget to send me your share on LingXun!”
Both of them were broke, so they were very precise with money.
The smart chip “LingXun” had appeared three years ago, and the government implanted it into all citizens for free. Phones, ID cards, and similar items were gradually phased out. By this year, no one used smartphones anymore.
Jiang Luokui was starving, nearly hypoglycemic. After greeting the teachers, she hurried toward the cafeteria.
Scratching her slightly itchy scalp, she opened LingXun’s interface—a ten-inch screen projected onto her retina.
She transferred money to Lin Zihan for the nutrient soil with the note: “Pay more, refund less,” then messaged her part-time supervisor to take the day off.
The Third School’s cafeteria was notoriously bad—and expensive.
Rice cost 20 yuan, a steamed bun 5 yuan, and a flatbread 2 yuan… Staples were pricey, and dishes weren’t cheap either. Vegetables were about 30 yuan per serving, meat dishes like stir-fried chili pork cost 40, and pure meat dishes went up to 60.
There was no helping it. The Great Cataclysm had lasted over sixty years, and humanity had only recovered for about a decade. With resources scarce, food was especially expensive—which was why agronomy had become a popular major.
Jiang Luokui glanced at the dull-looking buns. How dare they sell these for 5 yuan each?
“I’ll take three flatbreads.”
The cafeteria lady paused. “That’s it?”
Jiang Luokui nodded calmly, still scratching her head.
“Six yuan. Eating here or takeaway?”
“Takeaway.”
Perhaps because the flatbreads were so cheap, the lady didn’t even bother with a disposable bowl—just stuffed them into a tiny plastic bag.
As Jiang Luokui walked and ate, she thought about her next steps.
Since she could cultivate again, she had to farm.
Agronomy produced ordinary crops—but she could grow spiritual plants.
Though essentially the same plants, spiritual plants far surpassed normal ones in taste. More importantly, their special effects were like miraculous medicine to ordinary people.
Even in the cultivation world, spiritual plants were highly competitive—they were essential materials for alchemy.
Unfortunately, Jiang Luokui had no talent in alchemy. Otherwise, she could’ve built an entire industry chain by herself… but no matter. The priority now was renting land, growing short-term crops, and making money as soon as possible.
After only a few bites, her scalp grew itchier.
She instinctively reached to scratch—then suddenly froze.
Back when her Wood spiritual root awakened, her natal spiritual plant had sprouted from her head. It had felt itchy back then too.
Now that spiritual energy existed and cultivation worked again… having her natal plant return wasn’t impossible, right?
She stuffed the remaining flatbread into her mouth, clutched her head, and rushed back to the dormitory.
She dashed up five flights, unlocked the door, and shut it in one smooth motion.
Good. She was alone.
She ran into the bathroom, parted her thick black hair—and sure enough, two small green… leaves had sprouted.
It really was her natal spiritual plant!
With so little spiritual energy in her body, it could only grow two leaves and sat there, annoyingly tickling her.
“Is this rebirth or transmigration? Even my natal plant came along?”
Excited, Jiang Luokui circulated her technique. About ten minutes later, the itch faded.
She reached up, grabbed the leaves—and pulled out… a radish.
A palm-sized green radish with two drooping leaves on top. It had tiny limbs, a chubby body, bead-like eyes, and a slit for a mouth.
Jiang Luokui held it excitedly. “Bubu—it really is you! You came with me!”
Bubu made cheerful sounds: “A-boo! A-boo!”
Master—!
Jiang Luokui’s eyes welled up. Although her natal plant had reverted to its juvenile form, its expressions and voice were the same as before.
A natal spiritual plant was the best assistant for tending crops. They were naturally attuned to plants and could sense their condition faster than their master.
As the master’s cultivation advanced, the natal plant would also grow stronger.
Previously, Jiang Luokui had reached the Nascent Soul stage, and her plant had matured. At that stage, even the water it produced for bathing had incredible effects.
Although Bubu had returned to a juvenile size, its color still resembled its mature state.
If that was the case…
Then it was time to make money—no, start a business!
Rent land. Immediately!
Jiang Luokui opened LingXun and messaged Teacher Lu, asking to rent a plot.
[Teacher Lu: Only half a fen of land is left. It’s in a remote area, and something happened before—no one wants to rent it now. Are you sure?]
Half a fen was about thirty square meters—enough for now.
As for other issues… she wasn’t worried at all.
[Jiang Luokui: I’ll take it!]
[Teacher Lu: Alright. Rent is 1,000 yuan per month. How many months?]
The smile on Jiang Luokui’s face slowly disappeared.
It’s that small, that remote, probably with high soil radiation—and who knows what other problems… How dare they charge that much!?