Chapter 17: Starting from zero

Deluk's spiritual platform shattered completely, bringing with it an excruciating pain that made him wince slightly. Fortunately, his resilience to pain was fully developed, preventing him from writhing in agony.

He had a straightforward approach to his predicament. Since the destruction of the spiritual platform was an irreversible fact, he decided to let it break even more thoroughly. This meant his cultivation would return to zero, a fresh start. However, Deluk didn't feel particularly troubled by this.

His talents might not be extraordinary in other areas, but in the path of cultivation, he had some confidence. In his ninth life, he broke through the mundane world in three days to start Qi cultivation, built his foundation in thirty days, and formed his golden core in three months. Breaking through realms was as simple to him as eating and drinking. The bottlenecks that normal cultivators faced did not exist for him.

His body absorbed the spiritual energy of the world every moment, even during mundane activities like eating and sleeping. His body was like an alluring cake to the spiritual energy wandering the world, constantly attracting it.

That's why Deluk often said, "Cultivation isn't really that difficult." It was all about waiting for the spiritual power to accumulate to a certain level, then break through to the next stage. Everything should naturally flow like water finding its course.

Other cultivators defied the heavens in their cultivation, diligently practicing every moment, never daring to pause in their pursuit of the Dao. But Deluk was different. For him, cultivation was as simple as eating when hungry and drinking when thirsty.

...

...

Finally, the yellow bus rattled into the small town, slowly coming to a stop at a traffic light. Deluk turned to look out the window. The sights were both strange and familiar. They felt strange because, despite living through nine lives, he returned still a youth. They were familiar because the town was an indelible part of his memory.

The uneven roads, the quiet streets – he had little recollection of Ronaki, but the details of the town were clear in his mind. For instance, the traffic light in front of him; a few hundred meters ahead was the old iron gate of the orphanage. And the tobacco and sundry shop by the roadside had been there for years, with neighboring shops changing over time, but it stood unwavering.

The old lady who sets up her stall in front of the tobacco shop is a fixture of our small town. Like clockwork, she appears every afternoon around three, just in time for the school across the street to let out at four.

Her stall, strategically located opposite the elementary school, naturally caters to the tastes of its young clientele. Items like hot dogs and scallion pancakes are among the favorites.

However, for Deluk, nothing beats the old lady's hand-rolled cold noodles. The noodles are perfectly chewy, and the seasoning is just to his liking. As he strolls through the town, lost in thought, everything seems unchanged, untouched by the rapid pace of modern society. After all, this is just a small town under the jurisdiction of a slightly larger city.

You rarely see young people here, except for a few children left behind by parents seeking work elsewhere. Suddenly, the sound of a heated argument from the front of the minibus catches Deluk's attention. The driver, one hand on the wheel and the other holding a phone to his ear, is engaged in a spirited conversation, spittle flying as he speaks agitatedly.

"I get it, I get it! You're a real nag, calling all day long, aren't you?" he barks into the phone. "Yeah, yeah, I forgot the soy sauce last time, do you have to make such a big deal about it? My head's about to explode!"

"Fine, fine, I'm almost off work, I'll deal with you when I get home..." The man's conversation is a mix of frustration and resignation, no doubt his wife on the other end, hurrying him home.

Although our town is a bit behind the times, with lower wages, the upside is being close to home without the need for overtime. As the light turns green, the minibus shudders and slowly starts moving.

When it nears the welfare institute, Deluk calls out to stop. In towns like ours, buses stop wherever you ask; there are no formal bus stops. He gets off, looking towards the darkening sky. The surroundings are eerily quiet, except for a small shop next to the welfare institute, still open.

Deluk walks over to it. The owner, a bearded uncle, was once a legend in the big city, even making a million a month, creating a myth in our small town. But that didn't last long. The next year, addicted to stock trading, he lost everything, even his underwear.

"When others fear, I buy more; when others lose a little, I go bankrupt," he used to say. Since then, he's lived a dazed life, his once happy wife leaving him after three months. Yet, he never speaks ill of her.

He silently packed his belongings and returned to the small town that raised him.

Then, borrowing some money from his old buddies, he started a small grocery store.

Now, he spends his days tending to the store, watching football, and enjoying a little drink.

In essence, his life mirrors that of many disheartened middle-aged men.

The uncle, named Otto Gideon, runs the store named "Otto Gideon's Grocery."

He was lounging in a rocking chair, hands clasped behind his head, squinting at the television.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up and, recognizing Deluk, quickly scrambled to his feet.

Otto laughed heartily, "Well, if it isn't our town's top scholar! How come you're back without any notice?"

Deluk responded with a smile, "Just came back, Uncle Otto."

Otto chuckled, instinctively reaching into his pocket, but then remembered the young man didn't smoke and sheepishly withdrew his hand.

"It's good you're back, really good."

He patted the shelves, somewhat nostalgically, "Of all the kids who left the orphanage, you're the one who loves coming back the most."

"Maybe the big city is too busy" suggested Deluk.

Otto glanced over, "You think your Old man has never lived in a big city?"

He started to boast about his past glories but, seeing the young man's indifferent expression, he scoffed at himself and dropped the subject.

"Busy? How busy can it be? Just too accustomed to city life to come back, eh?"

"You talk like that, does it mean when you go to university and graduate, you'll also be 'too busy'?"

Deluk shook his head, "I won't be too busy. I'll come back often, for them too."

Otto snorted, "Alright, enough chatter. What do you want? I'll get it for you."

Deluk glanced at the shelf, filled with spicy snacks and other treats kids love, alongside common condiments like oil, salt, and soy sauce.

He pointed at the assortment of snacks.

"Pack a little of each."

These cheap treats were a big hit with the orphanage kids.

Deluk, too, had loved them when he was younger.

Years had passed, he had grown up, but the snacks remained the same.

And their prices were as affordable as ever.