Starting My Cultivation With Time Management

"For example, if you line up some jujubes on a table to form a straight line and then shake the table vigorously, those jujubes will roll all over the place, breaking the line."

"Similarly, when spatial disturbances occur, the countless pieces of flesh and blood that make up your body are forced out of their original positions, causing your physical body to disintegrate and collapse directly—leaving no traces of spells or formations being activated. This is the hallmark of spatial disturbance."

"I see." Ming Zhi sneered inwardly, "So spatial disturbance is not only a byproduct of moving a Heavenly Grotto but has also become a weapon that the other side can wield… By the way, is there any way to defend against spatial disturbances?"

"Don't get hit," the Kunlun Mirror replied. "Spatial disturbances are extremely destructive to any physical body, but they cause much less harm to entities without a fixed form, such as souls..."

At this point, the mirror abruptly paused with an odd hesitation.

Ming Zhi fell silent as well. Both the cultivator and the mirror seemed to have simultaneously realized a crucial point.

"If one must ascend as an entire sect, and that process inevitably causes spatial disturbances," Ming Zhi finally spoke slowly after a long while, "and if spatial disturbances inevitably result in bodily disintegration…"

"Then, why not just abandon the physical body?" the Kunlun Mirror contemplated aloud.

"What are you two talking about?" the Summoning Sword asked, puzzled. "Abandoning the physical body? Isn't that the path of Ghost Cultivators?"

"It *is* Ghost Cultivation!" Ming Zhi slapped his thigh. "Lifeless eyes, withered features, no trace of blood or qi—what are they if not zombies?"

"The entire monkhood of Golden Cicada Temple has already converted to Ghost Cultivation to avoid spatial disturbances during the movement of the Heavenly Sphere," the Kunlun Mirror continued in a grave tone. "To them, their soul is their true essence, capable of surviving spatial disturbances unharmed. As for their physical body—or corpse—it's merely a temporary vessel for holding their soul, a disposable container that they can replace at any time."

"How can the two of you deduce so many conclusions purely through reasoning?" the Summoning Sword exclaimed in amazement.

Ming Zhi didn't bother offering an explanation and instead discussed with the Kunlun Mirror:

"If that's the case, then the temple must have a place to assemble flesh and forge bodies."

"If we can locate such a place, all of our conjectures will be validated."

"Hey," Jianxing finally couldn't hold back and privately transmitted a voice message to the group. "Number Nine, you've been sitting there lost in thought—does that mean you've drawn some kind of conclusion?"

"Yes," Ming Zhi nodded with utter seriousness. "I believe that the back hall of Golden Cicada Temple harbors a tremendous secret!"

"Good heavens!" Jianxing couldn't help swearing and then abruptly stood up, stammering:

"I—I've cleaned up… This humble monk… will take his leave…"

Mumbling curses under his breath, Jianxing left. Ming Zhi remained seated cross-legged on the bed, contemplating rapidly.

The Summoning Sword wasn't wrong to mention that these deductions were based "purely on reasoning." However, Ming Zhi had indeed poured days and nights' worth of painstaking effort into unraveling the mysteries behind Golden Cicada Temple. Without such intense focus, he would never have so quickly figured out that the monks had turned to Ghost Cultivation.

Surviving spatial disturbances with a soul-body seemed akin to science-fiction depictions of interstellar travel—uploading one's consciousness into a computer to withstand acceleration forces. Clearly, the imagination knows no bounds. Even in this world of Buddhist cultivators, there were always ambitious individuals daring to challenge the heavens through sheer will.

Take myself, for instance. Am I not also unwilling to resign myself to this absurd reality?

Several more days passed, and the elderly monk seemed to have completely forgotten about this outsider monk, never summoning him for questioning.

On the other hand, Jianxing grew impatient, wondering if Number Nine, who had been so highly praised by Daoist Luo, was trapped in the same bottomless pit of Golden Cicada Temple as he was, equally helpless and clueless.

Word of this soon reached Daoist Luo of the Hell Path, who informed Number Nine that he could now "return with honor," and report the results of his mission.

Ming Zhi knew this was likely due to his lack of progress and thus gladly complied with the organization's directive, bidding farewell to the presiding monk.

"Master Ming Zhi, must you leave so soon?" The elderly monk sought to persuade him. "Why not stay a while longer? We still have rare Buddhist scriptures in our collection—worthy of your perusal."

"No need to detain me, Abbot," Ming Zhi responded with a gentle smile. "I came with interest, and I leave with contentment. To force the matter might invite diminishing returns."

"So be it, so be it," the old monk reluctantly agreed. At first, he suspected this man might be a spy, fleeing after gathering intelligence. But upon reflection, the visitor spent most of his time in his own side room without much interaction with the temple's monks.

Never mind; perhaps I was overthinking. Letting him go might reduce uncertainties anyway.

With a smile, the old monk escorted Ming Zhi to a particular spot midway up the mountain. Bowing slightly, he chanted a Buddhist phrase and said:

"Farewell, then."

Ming Zhi immediately grew wary, wondering whether this bald monk planned to teleport him into some "Blade Mountain" or sea of fire.

Nonetheless, in consideration of diplomacy with Puzhi Temple, the next moment of spinning dizziness landed him in the middle of barren wilderness.

Wei Dongliu summoned his Sword Light, scanning rapidly around the area, quickly confirming he was in the southern region of Divine Land.

Removing his disguise, he returned to Mount Wutai and sought out the previous Mountain God Temple... Only to find nothing but ruins and rubble remaining in the spot.

What? Did they dismantle the entire temple just to facilitate their teleportation formation?

"Benefactor," a voice called from behind.

Wei Dongliu turned to find a familiar fortune-teller grinning at him.

"If you're looking for the Mountain God Temple to burn incense, head south from here for about two miles. There's another one on the mountaintop."

"Thank you," Wei Dongliu nodded curtly.

He proceeded to the new temple, teleported back into the depths of Hell, and met with Daoist Luo at their base.

Without beating around the bush, Wei Dongliu conveyed his deductions to Daoist Luo.

"The Golden Cicada Temple's Heavenly Grotto attempting to ascend to the Immortal Realm?" Daoist Luo's expression, initially indifferent, turned increasingly peculiar as Wei Dongliu elaborated. "Do you have any evidence to support this speculation?"

"Firstly, based on Number Two's observations, the monks exploding on-site and the destructed ruins in the mountain town are manifestations of spatial disturbances."

"Secondly, the lack of blood qi among the monks, coupled with the numerous corpses in the rear hall, align with the Ghost Cultivation path that disregards the physical body."

"Finally, the traces of spatial disturbances, and the deliberate countermeasures for them via Ghost Cultivation—it all points to the notion of moving the Heavenly Grotto."

"Excellent. Number Nine, you've done well." Daoist Luo mulled it over and finally broke into a satisfied smile. "Indeed, it was the right choice to send you there."

Of course, it was, Wei Dongliu thought with an inner sneer, though he outwardly replied:

"If we can seize the Heaven-Mending Stone fragments from Golden Cicada Temple, it will surely provide a tremendous boost to our grand project of establishing a Human Race utopia in the depths of Hell!"

"There's no rush for that," Daoist Luo waved dismissively. "The monks themselves are no threat, but that grand formation is exceedingly perilous. We must proceed carefully."

"Number Nine, you may take your leave and rest for now."

"Understood." Wei Dongliu nodded and departed.

No sooner had he left than it hit him: Where's my reward?

Oh, so you send me out to gather intelligence but don't provide proper compensation for my efforts?

Fine. If that's the case, I'll extract it myself.

"Ah Jing, send me to the Heavenly Grotto of Golden Cicada Temple!"