C1 Are You a Chicken?

At the base of Immortal Crossing Mountain, nestled within the bustling market of Soong City, Jee Faang's brush was drenched in thick ink, leaving bold strokes that soaked through the paper.

"Life should be lived to the fullest; don't just let the golden cup face the moon alone. We are all born with a purpose, and even if fortunes are spent, they can be regained," he mused as he penned the words.

Jee Faang couldn't help but admire his own work. "Such commanding verses, such a sharp penmanship... truly, a magnificent poem and exquisite calligraphy..."

"Ding... Emotional Quotient +211."

The mechanical voice of the system, now familiar, rang out, but Jee Faang paid it little mind, merely glancing at the system panel in his mind out of habit.

Host: Jee Faang

Emotional Quotient: 2,113,453.

Each time his work was cultivated, his Emotional Quotient was rewarded.

In his previous life, such a masterpiece would have been celebrated for centuries. With such penmanship, no literary giant or calligrapher could hold a candle to him. This single piece alone could be worth a fortune.

But now, no matter how exquisite the writing, what good was it?

Worthless.

"What's the use of being born with talent?" Jee Faang muttered under his breath.

He crumpled the paper with his writing into a ball and tossed it aside.

Jee Faang was, in fact, a transmigrator, having lived in this world for twelve years. It was a realm of immortals and martial prowess, where the strong reigned supreme and power was everything.

Upon his arrival, Jee Faang had been brimming with ambition, dreaming of embarking on the path of cultivation, soaring through the heavens, omnipotent.

However, when he encountered the standard issue rebirth system he was equipped with...

He nearly wept in despair.

In this world of cultivators laying waste to cities and Demonic Beasts devouring humans, the system he'd been granted did not enhance his martial prowess but instead increased his Emotional Quotient.

What good was a high EQ in the face of a cleaver? Was he expected to subdue Demonic Beasts and evil cultivators with the sheer radiance of his character?

Stop kidding around! A mere wave of his hand could be lethal in seconds.

Over the past twelve years, Jee Faang had sought out Immortals to learn from. But his luck was so poor that not a single Sect showed any interest in him...

He faced rejection from all quarters.

With no other options, he dedicated all his time to diligently studying everything from the arts of zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting to the disciplines of gardening and the tea ceremony.

He tirelessly worked to increase his EQ.

Perhaps one day, this pointless system might unveil a shop or a lottery feature...

Who knows, maybe that would be his ticket to the pinnacle of life.

But now...

He had mastered the zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, gardening, and tea ceremony, achieving grandmaster status.

His EQ had soared to over two hundred and ten thousand, yet there was no sign of a shop or lottery.

Watching his EQ grow, Jee Faang had become numb to it and abandoned all hope.

The system was nothing but a scam...

As time went on, Jee Faang tried to console himself.

After all, one must carry on living, right?

Is the path of cultivation truly that great? Who's to say one won't fail the tribulation or be devoured by a Demonic Beast?

Living well is surely better than anything else.

Just then, a woman dressed in a white gown with a sword at her waist entered the shop, accompanied by a maid. Jee Faang immediately recognized her as a cultivator, likely a young lady from a noble Immortal family.

Cultivators often regard money as trivial, making her a potential major client. If he could satisfy her, she might very well spend generously.

"May I inquire what you're looking for? Our services include personalized letter writing, courtyard design, orchestra conducting, and even timed chess sparring sessions..."

The woman gave Jee Faang a somewhat surprised look.

He was quite young, dressed in a pristine white robe, his demeanor light yet commanding, exuding an air of distinction.

It was a shame, though, that he lacked any aura of Yuan Qi—he was merely an uninitiated mortal.

Jee Faang was eager to elaborate on his services, hoping to entice her into signing up for an annual membership or something similar.

Before he could even open his mouth, the woman nonchalantly scattered a few silver coins on the table.

"Just browsing," she said.

Jee Faang's heart swelled with happiness. A big spender indeed; they always had a way of showing off their generosity.

He gratefully accepted the money and promptly prepared a pot of tea.

Duan Rou glanced around, her interest waning, until she noticed Jee Faang offering her a steaming cup of tea. She froze, staring at Jee Faang with an incredulous expression.

"Are you sure you're offering me this?" she asked.