Lin Fu’s words were starkly realistic, but even with limited prospects for high achievement, being able to step onto the path of cultivation was more than enough to satisfy most of those present.
Even the weakest cultivator was still a cultivator. Compared to ordinary mortals, they were superior by leaps and bounds.
Thus, after a brief wave of murmuring, the crowd gradually quieted down.
Some even quietly resolved to father as many children as possible within the next ten years, all to secure a larger share of cultivation resources.
Shortly after, Lin Fu summoned a family Elder to guide the matrilocal husbands in their initial cultivation.
Zhou Luo sat cross-legged on a woven cushion, his eyes locked onto the lecturing Elder, not daring to let his mind wander for even a second.
At this moment, Zhou Luo was still merely a mortal.
This was his very first encounter with the teachings of cultivation, and he absorbed the knowledge like a starving man, wishing he could commit every word to memory instantly.
Beside him, the other matrilocal husbands listened with identical gravity, focusing intently on the Elder’s instructions.
However, the Elder only offered a broad overview of the cultivation methods.
He briefly explained the structure of the cultivation realms.
From lowest to highest, the cultivation stages progressed through Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, and beyond.
What the Elder taught today was merely the entry-level techniques for Qi Refining.
While the Qi Refining realm was divided into nine layers, the Elder only touched upon the basics of entering the stage. Any further progression and comprehension would ultimately depend on their own talent.
Even so, his words threw open the gates to a whole new world for everyone in the courtyard.
As soon as the Elder and Lin Fu departed, the matrilocal husbands in the manor immediately fell into heated discussions.
Shared sufferers of the same fate, none of them had ever cultivated before. They eagerly seized this opportunity to exchange thoughts and deepen their understanding.
Zhou Luo, however, had little interest in the chatter.
Since he had Lin Qinghan’s promise, he could simply ask her directly if he encountered any difficulties in his cultivation.
Just as he stood up to leave, a tall, burly man suddenly stepped forward, blocking his path.
Zhou Luo looked at him, his brow furrowing slightly.
He had noticed this man earlier during the lecture.
Throughout the Elder’s explanation, the man had been casting sidelong glances at him, his eyes carrying a distinct trace of hostility.
This left Zhou Luo thoroughly puzzled.
When had he ever crossed paths with this person?
“Is there something you need?” Zhou Luo asked calmly.
“Nothing. I am merely curious how a waste with a mere ninth-grade spiritual root managed to get selected for the high-tier pool.”
The man’s words were laced with open animosity and sharp barbs, causing Zhou Luo’s expression to darken.
“Am I to understand that you are questioning Steward Lin’s judgment?” Zhou Luo retorted instantly.
Hearing “Steward Lin,” a flicker of panic crossed the man’s face. He quickly composed himself and opened his mouth as if to argue, but in the end, he only managed a cold snort.
Glaring at Zhou Luo, he turned and swept away.
“Utterly bizarre,” Zhou Luo muttered to himself, feeling entirely speechless at this sudden hostility.
“His name is Zhang Daben, and he possesses an eighth-grade spiritual root. He bears a grudge against you because he cannot accept that a ninth-grade spiritual root was chosen for the high-tier pool while he was left out.”
A calm, steady voice sounded from nearby.
Zhou Luo turned and saw a young man dressed in a refined cyan robe approaching him.
Before Zhou Luo could speak, the young man cupped his hands in greeting. “Xu Changsheng.”
“Zhou Luo,” he replied, returning the gesture.
He recalled that this man possessed a seventh-grade spiritual root and had also been selected yesterday.
In this current batch of matrilocal husbands, only eight had been chosen for the “high-tier pool.”
Those in the high-tier pool were matched with women of prominent backgrounds within the clan.
Lin Qinghan, for instance, had parents who held decent status in the Lin family.
Rising in status through one’s wife-this was the very privilege Zhang Daben resented.
No wonder the man harbored such bitterness.
“You need not concern yourself with people like him,” Xu Changsheng offered consolingly.
Zhou Luo looked at him, slightly puzzled.
Seeing his confusion, Xu Changsheng explained, “After all, following yesterday’s selection, we and those like him no longer belong to the same world.”
Among those who had fallen to the status of matrilocal husbands, the difference between an eighth-grade and a ninth-grade spiritual root was practically negligible.
No matter how high their cultivation potential, they were ultimately destined to serve as tools for lineage propagation, forever barred from the true path of longevity.
Under such circumstances, their future standing within the Lin family became paramount.
The higher their standing, the better the resources and privileges they could command.
According to Xu Changsheng, the eight men selected yesterday were married to daughters of the Lin family’s middle echelon, placing them far above those married into the lower branches.
Even if their wives disdained them, their formal status remained secure.
Thus, the eight of them had already drifted apart from the ordinary matrilocal husbands.
Xu Changsheng advised Zhou Luo that since he now had a backing, he must learn to read the wind, seize every advantage, and not let himself be distracted by trivial matters.
Zhou Luo nodded in contemplation.
On his way back, he thought of the cultivation resources his mother-in-law had secretly given him earlier.
It seemed he had indeed failed to adjust his mindset and had overlooked the advantages already within his grasp.
“Are you seeking death?”
Suddenly, a cold woman’s voice pierced the air close to Zhou Luo’s ear.
Boom-
Before he could even raise his head, a sudden blast of spiritual energy struck his chest.
The impact sent him flying backward through the air, crashing heavily onto the hard ground.
Dazed and in sharp pain, Zhou Luo struggled to pull himself up.
A stunningly beautiful woman dressed in luxurious attire came into view.
She wore a moon-white, strapless dress that perfectly accentuated her striking figure.
Her fair skin was brilliant enough to dazzle the eyes.
She looked down at Zhou Luo with complete indifference, her body enveloped in a faint, shimmering spiritual light.
An maidservant standing beside her barked angrily, “Have you no eyes? Can you not see the Third Miss standing right before you?!”
Zhou Luo clutched his aching chest, his face pale.
He had been so engrossed in Xu Changsheng’s words that he had failed to notice anyone ahead of him.
Yet, the woman could have easily spoken to warn him; instead, she had chosen to strike him down immediately. A cold sense of bleakness settled in Zhou Luo’s heart.
This world’s rule of the strong preying on the weak was incredibly stark.
Having been raised with modern concepts of equality, Zhou Luo found this casual brutality difficult to stomach.
“Are you mute?” the haughty maidservant raised her voice, seeing him remain silent.
If this had happened in his past life, Zhou Luo would have erupted in anger.
But times had changed. He was now a mere matrilocal husband, a tool brought in to father descendants.
Even if they beat him to death on this path, they would likely feel no remorse.
Recalling Lin Qinghan’s earlier warnings, Zhou Luo lowered his head, forcing down the burning resentment in his chest.
“My apologies. I failed to watch where I was going.”
“If there is a next time, those eyes of yours need not be kept,”
the Third Young Miss declared coldly. Without another glance, she swept past Zhou Luo and departed.
Zhou Luo ground his teeth in silence, his eyes darkening as he stared at the retreating figures of the mistress and her servant.
Only moments ago, he had been filled with quiet joy over the appearance of his system and the acquisition of a cultivation manual.
But this encounter had delivered a harsh awakening: it was far too early to celebrate.
He was still nothing more than an ant, capable of being crushed underfoot at any moment.
His most urgent priority now was to ensure Lin Qinghan became pregnant as quickly as possible to trigger his system rewards.
With these thoughts anchoring his resolve, Zhou Luo silently committed the image of the Third Miss to memory.