C1 He Had Stepped into the Mountains to Search for Immortals but He Met the Gods and Demons Who Best
The night was at its most silent under the shroud of darkness. The moon hung high in the sky, resembling an exquisite jewel dangling from a goddess's ear.
Suddenly, the stars began to twinkle, bathing the night sky in a kaleidoscope of colors that outshone the brightness of day.
"Stars in disarray, a harbinger of tumultuous times."
Atop a grand palace in the Ten Directions Continent, a stunning woman clad in a green feathered gown and veiled face gazed up at the night sky, her eyes betraying a hint of sorrow.
"Whoosh!"
In an instant, it was as though an invisible brush had swept across the canvas of the night, causing stars to plummet.
To the mortals below, the celestial spectacle was nothing more than fodder for post-dinner conversation. Even after the once-in-a-millennium meteor shower had dazzled them, only lovestruck maidens remained enchanted by the memory.
Yet the woman in the green feathers lamented, gently lifting her arms, as white as lotus roots, cradling her heart in her hands. She unfurled her fingers, revealing a mysterious, shimmering light between them.
"They are coming. You will awaken soon," murmured the woman in green feathers, her lips barely moving as she pressed the luminous object to her cheek, seemingly lost in tender recollections.
Moments later, her expression turned steely. She stowed the radiant artifact and declared with a whisper, "The infants born this night shall be inducted into our sects."
Her edict transformed into myriad streams of light, reaching the ears of several hundred sect leaders.
Twelve years on.
In the Qing-Yun Continent, there stood a dilapidated sect known as the Nine Cloud Sword Sect.
On the once bustling Dao Comprehension Peak, a stone stele, cleaved in half, stood erect. Moss blanketed the stone, and tiny insects scurried across its surface in search of sustenance.
A boy with rosy cheeks approached from the distance. Upon closer inspection, it was clear his clothes were tattered, his shoes worn through, revealing a solitary big toe, equally reddened by the cold.
Despite the onset of spring, the peak of Dao Comprehension Peak was a staggering eight thousand meters from the base of the mountain. It was a wonder how the youngster had managed the ascent.
"Master, your disciple has arrived as promised. Where are you?" The boy settled on a flat boulder, retrieving a green fruit from his pocket. He bit into the slightly wrinkled skin, savoring the long-awaited treat.
The fruit had been nestled in his pocket for so long that its skin had begun to wrinkle.
Echoes of the young man's shouts reverberated through the valley, gradually fading into the howling mountain winds.
"It looks like Master isn't here," the young man mused as the sun dipped below the horizon, his master nowhere in sight.
He expertly gathered a pile of dry twigs and, pulling two nondescript black stones from his pocket, skillfully kindled a bonfire.
The flames danced as if performing a solo, casting a warm, red glow on the young man's darkened face, offering a modest comfort against the chill.
"Since Master hasn't arrived, I'll give it at most another month before I descend the mountain," he contemplated.
After enduring a grueling climb to a peak nearly ten thousand meters high, the absence of the Immortal Master was a bitter pill to swallow. Disappointment was inevitable, but the young man's steadfast nature allowed him to view the experience as merely a mountain trek and a two-month sojourn in the wilderness.
Now, with no one to rely on, he sat atop this seldom-seen summit, gazing at the sprawling greenery below, finding a unique pleasure in the solitude.
As night fell, the mountain wind grew fierce. Even huddled by the bonfire, the young man felt the relentless cold seeping into his bones.
His clothes, now tattered rags, were stripped off and repurposed as a makeshift blanket, under which he settled into a peaceful slumber.
The young man had no fear of catching a chill; the Immortal Master had once told him that his body was extraordinary, a natural fit for the path of cultivation.
At the time, the Immortal Master had urgent matters to attend to and left him with only a jade talisman, instructing him to seek apprenticeship at Dao Comprehension Peak when he turned twelve.
The journey to enlightenment was fraught with skepticism. His family had dismissed the words of the eccentric Daoist, who had repaid a simple act of kindness—a bowl of porridge—with grand tales of destiny, attracting the attention of a charlatan.
Initially skeptical himself, the young man couldn't deny that he had not fallen ill in twelve years, even escaping a massacre that decimated his sect.
"It was poison," the old beggar, trembling, had informed the young man as they fled the scene of carnage, revealing that abstaining from food at home that day had inadvertently saved his life.
Only the young man knew the truth; he watched in horror as his cousin, who had been competing with him for the pastries, collapsed before his very eyes, green blood oozing from his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.
Yet his cousin had only managed to eat one piece, while he had already devoured seven or eight. It turned out that the charlatan was indeed a true immortal master, although the desolate surroundings hardly resembled the fabled abode of immortals.
Upon waking, the young man realized the sun was already high in the sky. Throughout his journey to this secluded mountain peak, he had never allowed himself to sleep past dawn, fearing he might miss the appointed time to meet the immortal master.
Now that he had finally indulged in a morning's rest, he felt oddly uncomfortable. He had hoped to meet the immortal master upon arrival, to learn his secrets and swiftly uncover the truth behind his family's demise, seeking justice for his parents.
But it had all been wishful thinking. If he didn't encounter the immortal master within a month, he would have to descend the mountain and find work, as living like a hermit was not an option.
Days turned into nights. The young man cleaned off a broken stone tablet and fashioned a modest shelter from straw, which provided a welcome respite from the wind at night.
Rain, however, posed a significant inconvenience. During downpours, he was forced to seek shelter under nearby trees, which offered little protection. After a heavy rain, the straw hut would be uninhabitable for days, requiring a fresh layer of dry straw before he could sleep in it again.
A month flew by. The young man foraged for wild fruits and vegetables, and on a good day, he might even catch a couple of rabbits. Thanks to the mountain's isolation, the rabbits naively stumbled into his rudimentary traps.
He constructed odd-looking baskets from branches, propped up by a stick, and then gently herded the rabbits into them.
"It's time to leave the mountain," the young man murmured as he extinguished the fire and unearthed the rabbit he had wrapped in large leaves, buried in the earth. As he peeled back the layers, the thoroughly cooked rabbit meat released a rich aroma, tinged with the sweet scent of fruit.
Just then, a torrential downpour suddenly began, and the young man quickly wrapped the cooked rabbit beneath his body. Rain-soaked food is always hard to swallow, and he couldn't bear to let it go to waste.
By the time the young man reached the shelter of a large tree, he was already soaked through. The path wasn't particularly long, but the sudden, heavy rainfall had caught him off guard, leaving him in a sorry state.
He found a spot where the rain seemed lightest and was about to take a bite of a rabbit leg when an indescribably beautiful woman appeared before him. She approached him step by step, seemingly untouched by the downpour as if shielded by an invisible force.
The woman smiled at him, and his heart began to race.
"An immortal?" he wondered aloud.
The sudden appearance of a woman so devoid of earthly qualities atop a remote peak could only mean one thing: she was an immortal.
The young man gazed at her, transfixed, until she drew near and gently brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead, her lips parting slightly.
"Would you like to take me as your master?" she asked.
The wind whipped up the fallen leaves, swirling them around the pair, providing a canopy that shielded them from the rain.
The rabbit slipped from the young man's grasp and fell to the ground. He couldn't believe his ears—was an immortal really offering to take him as her disciple?
"Hahaha, Hua Shang Ji, unable to find a worthy disciple, are you resorting to desperation?" jeered a voice.
From a dark cloud descending from the sky, an old man dressed in black robes adorned with countless skulls emerged, his laugh sinister and his voice grating.
"Hmph, this child is fated to be my disciple. Silence your prattle, old fiend," the beautiful woman retorted, her displeasure evident despite her stunning visage.
"Hua Shang Ji, the path of the 81 Tiangang Dao is arduous. Why not join me in cultivating the joyous technique, ascend as a Nascent Soul, and achieve immortality in a millennium?" Despite his grim attire, the old man had the white hair and youthful face of a child, his skin as smooth as that of a seven or eight-year-old.
"Your Yin Yang Cultivation Technique is the lowest of the Mortal Dao. Even if one becomes a Nascent Soul, can they withstand the lightning of the Heavenly Tribulation? I, Hua Shang Ji, have no desire to become a Ghost Immortal," the woman declared, dismissing the old man with a turn of her delicate face. She then looked expectantly at the young man, awaiting his response.
The old man in the skeletal robe appeared to have hit a nerve, visibly seething with anger yet at a loss for words.
"Are you truly an immortal master?" the young man inquired, his excitement tinged with doubt. Despite the allure of the stunning woman and the old man before him, they seemed to lack something that the immortal master of his memories possessed. Yet, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. These two seemed more like true immortal masters, with their ability to remain untouched by rain and to soar on clouds—feats far beyond the mere words of the previous immortal master he had known.
"As cultivators, if we one day succeed in the Dao and undergo the Tribulation Crossing, we can naturally ascend to the heavens and become immortals," the beautiful woman said with a serene smile, extending her arm as white as jade. She opened her palm, facing it upwards. "Look."
The young man watched as a red flame burst forth in her palm, dancing and leaping. It morphed rapidly, now resembling a galloping horse, now a soaring bird, now a darting fish, ever-changing and wondrous.
"Hmph, mere child's play with fire control. How does that compare to the profound joys of my Dao of Yin and Yang?" the old man in the skeletal robe scoffed, having approached the young man unnoticed.
"What are you up to, old fiend?" The beautiful woman extinguished the flame in her hand, her eyes wide with indignation as she glared at the skeletal-robed old man.
"Nothing at all. I sense a connection with this lad, so I'll allow you to take on a disciple. Is it wrong for me to seek an heir?" The old man in the skeletal robe let out a sinister chuckle, reaching out into the void.
The young man felt an unseen force envelop him, and in an instant, he was standing before the old man in the skeletal robe.
"Tell me, boy, do you desire endless wealth, a never-ending parade of beauties, or the power to decide life and death with a single word?" The old man in the skeletal robe addressed the youth, the skulls on his robe appearing to chatter animatedly.
