Cultivation starts with picking up attributes
Chapter 87: Ch-87: A Cursed Sword? A Chicken One

Chapter 87: Ch-87: A Cursed Sword? A Chicken One

The next morning arrived far too quickly.

Sunlight bled through the high windows of the courtyard, bathing the old pear tree and worn stone bench in a soft golden hue.

Birds chirped overhead—ordinary ones, thankfully. The air smelled of dew and old incense.

Tian Shen didn’t move.

Under the pear tree, he was slumped: dark circles under his eyes, a hollow look frozen on his face, and a cup of tea gone stone cold at his side.

Drowsy—the tiny divine chick—was curled inside his collar, head tucked beneath golden fluff, radiating a sleepy brilliance with each breath.

Feng Yin strolled into view, dressed in pale‑blue robes embroidered with silver clouds.

She took in the scene as if assessing a mildly amusing painting that had gone terribly off‑script.

"Still alive, I see."

She teased, seating herself beside him with measured grace.

"Barely," he muttered.

Before either of them could continue, Little Mei, in her semi-human form, burst through the gate, fox ears twitching and tail swaying. In her arms, she carried a gleaming bowl.

"Guess what this is! Golden chicken‑rice porridge with spirit herbs!"

Tian Shen bristled.

"If that’s from the spring—"

"It isn’t... barely."

Little Mei sniffed defensively.

Feng Yin took the bowl and breathed over its contents.

"Smells... prosperous," she said, eyebrows lifting.

Hesitant, Tian Shen took a spoonful. Instantly, warmth spread from his stomach to his chest—like a gentle sunrise in qi form.

"See?"

Said Little Mei with a triumphant grin.

Drowsy stirred in his collar, poked her head out, blinked, and dove into the bowl—splash!—topping herself with rice and broth.

The spring water they’d fetched from the hidden mountain source had infused the porridge with faint divine energy.

And Drowsy absorbed it on contact, her glow intensifying until she shed golden mist... again.

Before Tian Shen could panic, he grabbed a cloth and began dabbing the rice from her feathers.

"Stop glowing! I can’t—"

"She’s going to explode one day."

He muttered.

"Awesome," Little Mei agreed, "I’ll stand next to you and wave!"

Feng Yin chuckled.

"She’s an anomaly. Maybe even a blessing, if controlled."

Tian Shen sighed.

"Or a trouble making legend that is second to one."

...

A week passed, each day marked by golden chirps, whispers ofthe tribulation event, and subtle changes in the sect’s atmosphere.

Drowsy reveled in her role. She sat on a cushioned lotus pillow, occasionally drifting into a golden mist that sprouted spiritual fruits in the courtyard’s potted plants—fruit which mysteriously replenished emptied spirit stone jars.

Little Mei had begun collecting the mist in glass vials (Feng Yin didn’t ask questions), while Tian Shen tried to pretend that raising a divine calamity chick was not exactly what he’d signed up for.

...

The next morning came with a lazy yawn from the heavens, its rays spilling onto the courtyard like spilled honey.

The golden light clung to the trees, the stone benches, and even to the sleepy Tian Shen, who had only just managed to escape the torturous embrace of the blankets.

He blinked slowly, noticing the tiny divine chick, Drowsy, perched atop his head like a miniature sun, its wings tucked in but glowing in a way that could probably melt stone if it really tried.

"Tian Shen," Feng Yin’s voice sounded a little too cheerful.

"It’s already midmorning. Your beauty sleep seems to have outlasted even the sun’s enthusiasm."

"Not everyone can be as energetic as you."

He mumbled, rubbing his temples.

"Some of us have... divine calamity chicks on their heads."

Little Mei popped into view, her fox ears flicking excitedly.

"It’s not that bad! Look! Drowsy made another batch of divine mist—this time, it smells like... like eggs!"

Tian Shen, now slightly more awake, glanced up at the chick, who gave him an innocent tilt of the head, as if to say, What? It’s an art. My art.

"I think she’s taking after you."

Feng Yin teased, crossing her arms and giving him a knowing look.

"This mischief looks familiar."

"Great."

Tian Shen sighed.

"I’ve always wanted to be a legend... but not for this."

Drowsy, sensing the tension, flapped her tiny wings.

At that very moment, Little Mei bounced forward, holding up a tiny, gleaming vial.

"Oh! I’ve been collecting the mist! Now, we can use it!"

Feng Yin raised an eyebrow.

"Use the divine mist? That’s... do you know how to?"

"I have no idea."

Little Mei enticed, as if she had just discovered fire.

"But surely, Master should know!"

"And How do you assume that?"

Tian Shen asked.

"Master, you know about about me, how can you not know about her?"

Little Mei beamed.

Tian Shen blinked, realising the he had his everything, his SYSTEM.

But before he could focus on that...

The sound of knocking echoed from the entrance to the courtyard.

He hid the chick-pick underneath, then opened the door.

The three of them found an unfamiliar disciple, her robes a shade of dark green that looked almost too sharp for someone walking into such a relaxed scene. She held some stacks of paper in her hands.

"Excuse me," she began, bowing stiffly.

"I was sent by Elder Su to inform you—"

But just then, a gust of wind came that sent the disciple’s clothes fluttering and her neatly stacked papers flying, which promptly dropped on the ’Tian Shen-made’ pond in the corner, messing things everywhere.

Tian Shen groaned, pretendingly covering his eyes.

Little Mei clapped her hands in delight.

"Wow, she’s huge!"

Feng Yin shook her head, but there was an amused glint in her eyes.

Tian Shen, now utterly resigned, turned to the flustered disciple, who was trying to gather the flying papers with trembling hands.

"You... you were saying?"

The disciple straightened up, giving a flustered bow as she handed over the papers.

"The Elder... well, she’s summoned you for a... special mission?"

Tian Shen blinked.

"A special mission? What for? Did I win a lottery I didn’t know about?"

The disciple didn’t respond to his sarcasm.

"It’s a small matter of retrieving a lost item. Something... important."

Feng Yin raised an eyebrow.

"Important?"

"Ah, yes, important."

The disciple nodded.

"It’s a... a sword."

"...A sword?"

Tian Shen echoed.

"Yes."

The disciple shuffled her feet.

"A sword."

"More task now," Tian Shen muttered.

"Great. I’m living as a corporate slave, afterall."

"Wait, What?"

"Nothing, nothing."

...

The disciple seemed to notice his lack of enthusiasm.

"It’s really important! We need someone with your... expertise!"

Tian Shen opened his mouth, but before he could protest, Little Mei skipped in front of him, her fox tail wagging.

"Oh! Oh! Is it shiny? Can we keep it?"

The disciple, caught off guard, blurted out,

"I-I’m not sure... but Elder Su said it was precious."

Tian Shen sighed.

"All right. Fine. But only because I know this will come up again tomorrow, and I really need a break from all this drama."

As if on cue, Drowsy excitedly intoned from inside, as if sensing the approaching adventure.

"Maybe we should hire a new assistant?"

Feng Yin mused.

The disciple, now burdened with a pile of fluttering parchment, could only manage a weak smile.

"I’ll... I’ll go inform Elder Su of your acceptance!"

With that, she rushed off—leaving Tian Shen, Little Mei, and Feng Yin to stare at each other.

"Well," Tian Shen said with a wry smile, "looks like we’re off on another adventure."

Little Mei bounced up and down.

"With chickens this time around!"

"Let’s hope not," Tian Shen muttered.

Drowsy, as if on cue, flapped her wings again, sending another burst of divine mist scattering through the air.

The mist swirled and gathered into a delicate shape—a small, glowing chicken-shaped cloud, floating above them like a hovering omen.

"Maybe this is a hint for the sword?"

Tian Shen joked dryly.

Feng Yin’s eyes twinkled.

"A chicken sword? Doesn’t sound that bad."

"Are you serious?"

Tian Shen grumbled.

And just like that, their plans were set. Or rather, unsettled.

As the last of the divine mist faded into glittering motes, Tian Shen ran a hand through his hair, feeling the beginnings of yet another ridiculous Chapter forming in his already-overcrowded scroll of absurdity.

"Let’s just hope the sword isn’t cursed."

He prayed. Desperately.

"Ohhh," Little Mei purred, grinning with mischief.

"A cursed chicken sword! Imagine if it clucks every time you swing it."

"Don’t encourage the universe."

Tian Shen warned, pointing a finger at her.

"That’s how calamities get ideas."

Feng Yin rose, adjusting her robes with practiced elegance.

"Well, we should get ready then. The Elder wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t either deadly... or deeply inconvenient."

"That’s... not reassuring," Tian Shen sighed, rubbing his temples again.

Atop his head, Drowsy let out a chirrup that sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

And so, with nothing but a vague summons, an overeager fox girl, and a possibly divine chick who glowed brighter when bathed in trouble, Tian Shen stepped toward the next disaster awaiting him.

Because of course—why wouldn’t it involve swords, mystery, and possibly poultry-shaped omens?

He was starting to suspect that cultivation wasn’t the path to immortality.

It was the path to daily absurdity—with feathers.

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