Chapter Fifty-Four: Upheaval

A new day, a new beginning.

The changes at the national level had only just begun. Though the age of information had stirred ordinary people into a frenzy of excitement, true implementation would still require considerable time.

By the way, the initiative to recruit excellent cultivation mentors for middle and high schools had already been pushed to their group. The document was issued directly, yet the group itself remained under their own control; the government dared not brazenly annex their chat group. Thus, their group was akin to a civilian organization, albeit with a semi-official nature.

For instance, whenever the government distributed documents, the group would certainly be among the recipients. Moreover, a member of the National Cultivators’ Association had joined their ranks, claiming the purpose was to foster harmonious exchanges in the new era of information-driven cultivation. Everyone, however, understood this was a form of supervision.

Nevertheless, conversations continued as usual. None of them were naïve children; each knew well what ought to be said and what best left unsaid, maintaining their own boundaries.

Cultivation mentor recruitment had already begun. In fact, many received private invitations. After all, cultivators in the country were a rare resource, and those who managed to achieve success ahead of the curve in this age of diminishing spiritual energy were hardly ordinary. The system sought to draw them into its fold wherever possible, forging alliances rather than creating enemies.

The benefits for cultivation mentors were clearly outlined in the official document. Compensation depended on the time spent teaching, the mentors’ cultivation level, and the depth of their understanding of cultivation. The first two were easy enough to assess, but the third was more elusive—a mentor’s insights were far from tangible.

Yet the government provided evaluation criteria. Cultivation mentors would be given a copy of the “Universal Cultivation Sutra” promoted by the Cultivators’ Association, and asked to formulate a preliminary phased cultivation plan in writing, which would then be reviewed by the newly established local branches of the Association.

Having stated the requirements, let’s speak of the benefits. The government offered cultivation mentors a minimum of three bottles of Vitality Pills per month and a maximum of nine, along with herbal subsidies and access to the Cultivators’ Association’s full library of cultivation manuals online.

Such openness left both the veterans and newcomers in the group astounded.

There was also a document concerning membership certification for the Cultivators’ Association. Anyone with a national ID, possessing cultivation, free of criminal record, aged fourteen or above, and passing a mental health assessment could join and enjoy the government stipend.

The abundance of benefits stirred the hearts of many thoughtful members, including Chen Jin, who was especially tempted—Cultivators’ Association members enjoyed even greater rights than mentors.

However, there was no Cultivators’ Association branch in Xiahu County yet. Currently, branches were only established in provincial capitals; it would take another year before the organizational structure might reach all prefecture-level cities, and county-level branches would only arise once cultivation flourished nationwide.

Manpower was a significant problem. Some regions were spiritual deserts, with not a single cultivator; in others, cultivators abounded. How to distribute them evenly was a challenge, and most importantly, cultivators were not soldiers, subject to the government’s every command. They had their own will—one could not simply tell them to go east and expect compliance. Perhaps they would prefer to remain where they were, waiting for the orange trees to grow, and then sell oranges instead.

Thus, how to incentivize them was a matter of great debate.

Of course, none of this was Chen Jin’s concern. He was merely letting his mind wander during a moment of idleness.

At present, he was in a meeting.

Today was February fifth, and thanks to the news released by the government, his company had urgently convened to discuss how to advance their business in the new era.

The main idea was to keep pace with the national trend, with two directions proposed: rapid transformation to cross into new industries, aligning with the future wave of cultivators; or leveraging current assets to explore ways to support cultivator development.

Essentially, everyone was encouraged to unleash their imagination and share their ideas.

This meeting was limited to upper management—directors, deputy directors, general managers, and their deputies.

Chen Jin, owing to Chen Lan’s public exposure, was required to attend, primarily to provide a cultivator’s perspective and assess the executives’ proposals.

Thus, Chen Jin had the leisure for such ramblings of thought.

He had also projected the relevant files from the group onto the conference room screen.

Since morning, Xiahu County had been like a pressure cooker, bubbling with excitement—the attendees were no exception.

Truth be told, Chen Jin felt the government had revealed cultivation a bit too early, too abruptly. They should have approached it gradually, letting it seep in quietly.

Who knew what the authorities were thinking, to set off this instantaneous explosion, shaking the entire nation.

The meeting ran from nine in the morning until noon, yet not one person appeared fatigued; in fact, they grew more energetic.

The reason was that Chen’s father had obtained—via some channel—a Vitality Pill soon to be promoted by the government.

He dissolved it in water and distributed it to each executive, so after a morning of lively discussion and spittle flying across the conference table, everyone left refreshed.

At lunchtime, Chen Jin was finally able to dine with his parents in the company cafeteria—a cause for celebration.

“Son, when did you start cultivating?” his mother asked at the table.

“It was on a stormy night…” Chen Jin replied honestly.

“So you’re already getting ahead of yourself?” His mother narrowed her eyes slightly.

“One night last month I happened to find a small bottle and a book. I tried practicing, and unexpectedly succeeded.” Chen Jin, helpless, recited the excuse he had devised based on online novels for handling his parents.

He knew he couldn’t keep this secret forever, so he had already prepared countermeasures—this was one of them.

“So that explains how you managed to mesmerize me that day,” his father muttered.

“What are your plans from now on?” his mother continued.

“Same as before,” Chen Jin replied.

“Still working at the company?” she pressed.

“Yes.” Chen Jin nodded.

“If you want to focus on cultivation, you don’t need to force yourself to come to the company,” his mother said.

“No, the company’s great. Everyone here is talented and their words pleasant—I really enjoy it,” Chen Jin grinned, teasing.

“Alright. Your father and I will supply you with Vitality Pills. Rest assured, we’re not short on money,” his mother added.

“Uh…understood…”

In truth, Chen Jin wanted to say that the Vitality Pills weren’t of much use to him, but since his mother had said so, he simply accepted.

…