Jason Brooks and his group flew for nearly a whole hour, covering a distance of about one hundred and sixty li.

　　Just as the spiritual energy within Jason Brooks was about to run out, a farmhouse appeared in the distance before everyone’s eyes.

　　It was a stretch of canyon land along the river, with crisscrossing fields and vibrant life.

　　This was the Chen family’s [Dingfeng Farm], which produced grain, a small amount of spirit rice, and various kinds of poultry and livestock for meat.

　　“Jingyun, let’s stop and rest at Dingfeng Farm before we continue on our way.”

　　Henry Brooks urged his sword light forward, leading the way as he flew toward Dingfeng Farm. Upon arrival, he pressed downward, landing on the Firecloud Sword right in front of the farm’s main gate.

　　The flying sword had barely come to a stop.

　　He slung one hand behind his back and lightly leapt off the sword, then, carried by inertia, gracefully took a few steps in midair.

　　With a flick of his fingers, the Firecloud Sword turned into a streak of light and returned to his storage pouch—a move that was undeniably dashing.

　　Jason Brooks followed closely behind, putting away his flying artifact, the Spirit Leaf, with the same set of movements.

　　After traveling for so long, he was already out of breath and sweat was starting to form on his back. Compared to his fourth uncle, he looked a bit less at ease, but still managed to keep up his style.

　　Emily Martin, who was right behind, couldn’t help but hold her forehead, feeling a slight headache.

　　Yesterday, when she saw Jason Brooks’s pretentious sword-retrieving move on the back mountain, she’d felt the urge to curl her toes in embarrassment.

　　She’d thought it was just his personal quirk or taste, but to her surprise, it turned out to be the Chen family’s signature move.

　　Who designed this sword-retrieving routine, anyway?

　　Not only was it childish, it was also awkward.

　　She even felt like running away. Was such a patron really reliable?

　　Only Ethan Brooks, who had come along in his heroic spirit form, watched his grandson and great-grandson’s sword-retrieving moves and nodded in secret satisfaction. Truly worthy descendants of my bloodline, both showing five or six parts of the flair I had in my youth.

　　Back then, he had designed this sword-retrieving move by drawing on the essence of many film and TV works from before his transmigration, pouring his heart and soul into it.

　　When he was at Yunyang Sect, he’d charmed countless senior and junior sisters with it.

Chapter 8: That Arrogant Locust Sparrow

　　At that moment—

　　The gates of Dingfeng Farm opened.

　　A large group of people bustled out, led by a young man in his late twenties dressed in sturdy clothes.

　　As soon as he saw Henry Brooks and Jason Brooks, he hurried over with a look of delight. “Fourth Uncle, Fifth Brother! What brings you here?”

　　Jason Brooks cupped his hands in greeting. “Greetings, Second Brother.”

　　Henry Brooks laughed heartily and patted him on the shoulder. “Jingfei, you sure move fast. Back so early to guard the farm?”

　　This young man was the second of the [Jing] generation, Samuel Brooks, and a full brother to Jason Brooks.

　　But, unfortunately, he was born without a spiritual root and could not cultivate the arts of immortality, so he could only practice mundane martial arts.

　　At these words, Samuel Brooks gave a wry smile. “Fourth Uncle, you know as well as I do—this is the season when the spirit grain is filling out. How could I dare make even the slightest mistake? Even though I set out a day early, I only just beat you back here.”

　　At this, Samuel Brooks couldn’t help but show a hint of envy.

　　He had to travel by fine mundane horse, unable to take the steeper mountain paths and forced to go the long way around, unlike those with flying artifacts who could go straight as an arrow.

　　He’d hurried day and night, toiling for a whole day before finally making it back to the farm.

　　But the cultivators in the family could ride their flying artifacts from the farm to Qingyu Cliff and back in just two hours.

　　Yet, these weren’t even the greatest differences between mortals and cultivators.

　　Without a spiritual root, not only could he not cultivate, but he also couldn’t marry a wife with a spiritual root.

　　This led to a vicious cycle, where future generations could only hope to get lucky if they wanted a child with spiritual roots.

　　According to the rules of cultivation families, the first generation without spiritual roots could still be entered into the family register and ancestral hall, but their descendants without spiritual roots would only be considered a side branch, not even eligible for the register or ancestral hall.

　　Witnessing this scene—

　　Ethan Brooks also felt a bit emotional. Of the four sons and three daughters he’d had with his wife Yao Qiuping, three were born without spiritual roots.

　　The second son, George Brooks, was the most obsessed. Even though he inherited the mundane family business, founded Chen Family Town, and lived his life as a wealthy man, he was still melancholy before his death.

　　He even took many concubines in hopes of producing a descendant with spiritual roots, fathering a large brood.

　　But to this day, not a single child with spiritual roots had appeared in his line, and they had yet to return to the family register.

　　Such is the cruelty of the cultivation world.

　　“Let’s not talk about this. The gate isn’t the place for conversation. Fourth Uncle, Fifth Brother, and this… young lady, let’s go inside and rest.” Samuel Brooks shook off his thoughts and quickly welcomed everyone into Dingfeng Farm.

　　Jason Brooks shot Emily Martin a glare, hinting for her to leave and not freeload again.

　　But—

　　Emily Martin acted as if she hadn’t seen his hint, happily following behind Henry Brooks right through the farm gates.

　　This wild cultivator girl really was thick-skinned. Jason Brooks could only shake his head helplessly and follow after.