Qingyun Mountains.
The mountains were steep and precipitous, filled with strange rocks of every shape. Clouds and mist wreathed the peaks, giving the place quite the air of an immortal realm.
Near the foot of the mountain, however, two figures broke the silence among the hills.
The two walked one behind the other.
The one in front was a little over forty, dressed in a cyan Daoist robe. His steps were light, and as he walked through the mountains, not a speck of dust clung to him.
The one behind was in his early twenties, with delicate, handsome features. He wore plain white robes, and as he walked through the mountains, he had the air of a scholar out on a spring excursion. The only flaw was that the cloth shoes on his feet were covered in mud, making him seem somewhat out of place.
Perhaps because it had rained a few days earlier, the soil in the mountains was somewhat damp, and stepping on it gave a slightly slippery feeling.
Ye Ping walked through the mountains.
Scene after scene surfaced in his mind.
Ye Ping felt that he was very unlucky.
Three years ago, he had been an ordinary office worker on Earth, muddling along and waiting for death under the blessed 996 work system.
But unexpectedly, an accident had brought him to this world resembling ancient times.
Only, this world did not belong to any of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, or Qing dynasties.
Instead, it called itself the Immortal Martial Era.
And he was in a small country called the State of Jin.
Originally, whether it was the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, or Qing did not matter. With his advantages as a transmigrator, at the very least he should not have ended up too miserable. And when he thought about how, in a feudal society, one could even have three wives and four concubines, his mood instantly seemed a little less painful.
As the saying went, all pursuits were lowly; only studying was exalted. No matter the era, studying was certainly the most direct way to rise above others. In order to live a good life, Ye Ping plunged headfirst into the ranks of scholars.
Perhaps if it had been some other transmigrator, he might not have been willing to study, but Ye Ping was different. He liked studying very much, because the State of Jin had a rule: any student could enjoy ten years of compulsory education. In other words, freeloading made him happy.
He could study and take the imperial examinations without spending money. How could Ye Ping possibly be unwilling?
Thus, in the three years since he had transmigrated, Ye Ping had earnestly studied the books of sages for three full years. He could recite the Seven Books and Nine Classics backward, and every famous saying of the sages was engraved in his heart. Moreover, relying on his background as a liberal arts student, Ye Ping could occasionally come up with a few peerless lines of poetry.
Things like, “Worldly affairs drift idly with the flowing water; when counted up, this floating life is but a dream.” Or, “Why should a man not take up the Wu hook, and reclaim the fifty provinces of Guanshan?” And, “Alone he fought across three thousand li; with one sword he once withstood a million troops.”
Of course, all of these peerless lines had undergone some processing. After all, this world had no Guansai, so in order to fit the occasion, they had to be modified.
And wouldn’t you know it, relying on these peerless lines, Ye Ping had gained a bit of fame in the State of Jin.
But just as Ye Ping was full of confidence and preparing to take the imperial examination, an accident happened.
On his way to the capital for the exams, he saw someone stepping on an immortal sword, streaking across the sky, carefree and elegant beyond measure.
In that instant, Ye Ping suddenly understood.
So this was a cultivation world.
After learning this news, Ye Ping instantly felt extremely miserable.
Three years of bitter study by a cold window.
Do you know how he had spent those three years?
He had thought this was a world of scholars, where everyone had merit to pursue and books to read.
But he had never expected this world to actually be a cultivation world.
Studying in a cultivation world?
Wasn’t there something wrong with his brain?
Although Ye Ping had no grand ambitions, he still knew the difference between the cultivation system and the scholarly system.
Even if you were appointed a king or marquis, in the eyes of cultivators, wouldn’t you be no more than a weed?
Even if you were the ruler of a country, wouldn’t you still have to be perfectly respectful before cultivators?
So after learning that this was a cultivation world, Ye Ping abandoned literature and pursued immortality, seeking that illusory and ethereal immortal Dao.
He had thought this process would be very long.
But unexpectedly, cultivators were not some rare species in this world at all. On the contrary, they were as numerous as ox hairs.
In less than a month, Ye Ping had taken part in four or five Immortal Ascension Assemblies.
In this cultivation world, sects were as numerous as ox hairs, and these sects were extremely diligent. Every year, they held Immortal Ascension Assemblies to recruit disciples widely. As long as someone had even the slightest spiritual root, they could enter an immortal sect.
And after Ye Ping had participated in nearly fifty Immortal Ascension Assemblies, only after being blacklisted by all the major sects within Qingzhou did he discover that he had a physique with no spiritual root.
It was not exactly a very rare physique either, but rather the worst, worst, worst, worst kind of physique.
This kind of physique was generally called trash.
However, after learning that he had the most useless physique, Ye Ping was not sad or upset at all. On the contrary, he was extremely happy.
Wasn’t this the classic opening of a wish-fulfillment webnovel?
The more useless one was at the start, the higher one’s future achievements would be, right?
So Ye Ping was not discouraged in the slightest. On the contrary, he continued attending the various Immortal Ascension Assemblies. He believed that as long as he could enter an immortal sect and be given a chance, he would soar into the heavens in one leap.
It was just that, in the eyes of the various major sects, having no spiritual root meant being pure trash. No sect was willing to accept a cultivator with no spiritual root.
And under Ye Ping’s unremitting efforts.
At long last, he met his benefactor.
That was the middle-aged man before him.
Daoist Taihua.
The eighteenth-generation sect master of the Qingyun Daoist Sect.
In the crowd, he had spotted Ye Ping at a glance and was willing to accept him as a disciple and teach him immortal arts.
His only requirement was that Ye Ping needed to undergo an internship, and during the internship period, he would not be given any silver or stipend.
To put it plainly, there was no money.
This requirement was nothing to Ye Ping. After all, he did not care much for such external possessions.
The important thing was cultivating immortality.
As long as he could cultivate, would he still have to worry about having no money in the future?
At this thought, Ye Ping’s mood could not help but grow tense.
Amid the mountain streams, clouds and mist surged like an immortal realm. A clear breeze brushed past, further cleansing the mind and spirit. Ye Ping felt somewhat nervous, somewhat expectant, and most of all, somewhat reverent.
In Ye Ping’s heart, immortals were extraordinarily grand existences.
Just imagine, if one succeeded in cultivation, rode a sword through the sky, roamed the Nine Provinces beneath the heavens, white robes fluttering—wouldn’t that be wonderful?
Add to that the line, “An immortal strokes my head; binding my hair, I receive longevity.”
One word.
Perfect.
And just as Ye Ping was letting his thoughts run wild.
Daoist Taihua, eighteenth-generation sect master of the Qingyun Daoist Sect, was currently laughing inwardly until his heart blossomed.
This time, he had gone down the mountain to handle some trivial matters.
But unexpectedly, he had actually brought back a disciple.
The most perfect part was that this disciple was actually willing to go without a stipend.
This was truly double happiness arriving at the door.
These days, the competition between sects within Qingzhou was far too intense. Everywhere, they were fighting over disciples and driving up the price.
Any disciple with the slightest talent had been snatched away by the large sects. Most of the disciples who had no talent but at least looked like they had some aptitude had also been fought over until none were left. Thus, the disciples remaining were all crooked melons and cracked dates.
Crooked melons and cracked dates were one thing, but because all the major sects kept raising prices, stipends grew higher year after year.
Of course, this was also because many people knew that if someone without a spiritual root went to an immortal sect, they were essentially going there to do odd jobs. If one really wanted to learn something, it would be better to randomly find a martial arts school to strengthen the body. At the very least, there would be some future prospects.
Cultivating immortality did not mean that one would become strong just by cultivating.
If taking up a cultivation manual were enough to become immortal, then everyone would be above everyone else.
It was precisely because of this that some of the lowest-level sects might not receive even a single disciple in an entire year, let alone a disciple who did not want money.
So Daoist Taihua was delighted indeed.
However, the only thing that worried Daoist Taihua somewhat was whether those disciples in his sect could act out the image of experts.
If this new disciple had only just arrived and then ran off not long afterward.
That would be somewhat troublesome.
Still, Daoist Taihua felt no guilt. Ye Ping wanted to cultivate immortality, and no one wanted him. He had accepted Ye Ping, and both sides were willing, so there was nothing wrong with it. Although the sect was indeed poor and shabby, the problem was that good sects did not want Ye Ping either.
If he had to say there was a little guilt, it would be about not paying a stipend. But Daoist Taihua would keep accounts too. Once the sect developed, it would not be too late to compensate him then.
And just as Daoist Taihua slowly pondered this.
The figures of the two had also arrived at the entrance of the Qingyun Daoist Sect.