Li Yuan's consciousness drifted as he gazed at the radiant brilliance surrounding him.
This secret realm was filled with all manner of spirit trees. Most of them were unfamiliar, their names unknown to him, while the few he did recognize were at least a hundred years old or older—rare treasures in themselves.
If he were to bring just one of these trees out to sell, its value would be worth dozens, even hundreds, of spirit stones!
And yet, within his sect, his monthly allowance amounted to no more than a single spirit stone and half a pound of low-grade spirit rice.
Looking deeper into the grove, beyond the hundred-year-old spirit trees, he could see even more mysterious and extraordinary trees suffused with denser spiritual essence. Those must be even older and more valuable sacred woods.
But right now, Li Yuan could not pluck even a single twig.
That was because standing directly before him was a stone stele, over ten feet tall, blocking the way forward. Glowing words shimmered across its surface. At the very top, one line of text read:
"The Myriad Trees Realm of the Profound Origin."
Beneath it were the names of three cultivation methods:
The Nine Profound Cavern Sutra of the Upper Primordial
The Treasure Earth Yin Scripture of the Middle Primordial
The True Art of Spirit Communication of the Lower Primordial
Each cultivation method was briefly described below its title. Coupled with the strange yet enticing nature of this hidden realm, Li Yuan quickly realized he had stumbled upon an ancient legacy treasure from some long-lost Daoist lineage.
This secret he had hidden for over half a month. Embedded within the stone table in his courtyard was a tiny stone bead, and it was through accidentally touching it that he had discovered this strange place.
The three techniques carved upon the stele were clearly the keys to entering this "Myriad Trees Realm of the Profound Origin." To step through, he had to choose one.
Li Yuan could not figure out what connection this legacy treasure had with his sect, but he did not dwell on it. For him, this was the one and only chance to defy fate and change his destiny.
After agonizing over the decision for half a month, he finally resolved to make his choice.
The Nine Profound Cavern Sutra of the Upper Primordial was a supreme-level cultivation art. Mastery of it granted one access to the very forces of heaven and earth. It offered miraculous benefits to all realms of cultivation, from Foundation Establishment to Golden Core, and even to the lofty Nascent Soul stage. Its might was unmatched, rendering one invincible among peers of the same rank.
But its requirements were impossibly strict. One needed the rare physique known as the Nine-Origin True Body, vast quantities of heavenly treasures, and countless years of effort to progress even a single step. Li Yuan longed for it deeply, but he knew his mediocre spiritual roots meant that if he chose this path, he might never even reach Foundation Establishment in his lifetime.
The Treasure Earth Yin Scripture of the Middle Primordial did not require a special physique, but it was suited only for those with excellent innate talent and superior spiritual roots. Mastery of it allowed one to command the sacred earth of the world and summon Yin Spirits to obey.
But its practice demanded at least earth-grade roots, as well as great perseverance and wisdom. Furthermore, it required the collection of the seventy-two sacred soils of the world, offering them upon an altar to pacify the land and stabilize the nation's fate. For Li Yuan, such requirements were utterly impossible.
His roots were merely of human-grade mediocrity. Practicing such a supreme method was simply not within his reach.
Perhaps foreseeing such difficulties, the ancient legacy had left behind a third option.
The True Art of Lower Primordial Spirit Communication.
Its description was clear: easy to learn, rapid in cultivation progress, and suitable even for those with poor spiritual roots.
But its shortcomings were equally obvious—it harmed one's divine sense, making it extremely difficult to learn any spells outside of its own teachings. Even when mastered, the resulting mana was average at best. Practitioners of this art would invariably be among the weaker cultivators of their generation.
Each of the three methods had its strengths and flaws. Li Yuan had hesitated for half a month, torn between desire and reality.
The first two were the kind of peerless arts that cultivators across the world would give anything to obtain. But for Li Yuan, who merely wished to prolong his life and seize a chance at longevity, only the weakest of the three—the True Art of Lower Primordial Spirit Communication—was possible.
Besides, the technique he had been cultivating until now was called the Lower Primordial Art. Though far less wondrous, it bore enough similarity that others would not easily notice the switch.
Sometimes, the best choice was not the strongest one, but the most suitable.
If he had the backing of an ancestral clan, or extraordinary roots and talent, he would have chosen the first or second methods without hesitation. But alone, with no foundation and only himself to rely upon, he had no chance of success with those lofty paths.
For the sake of survival, even if it meant being weaker than others, what of it? As long as he could live, as long as his cultivation advanced step by step, there would always be the possibility of breaking through higher realms.
Even if he remained weak for now, once he achieved Foundation Establishment, wouldn't the disciples of his sect still have to bow and respectfully call him "Elder"?
At last, Li Yuan steeled his resolve. He stepped forward and placed his palm upon the inscription of the True Art of Lower Primordial Spirit Communication.
Instantly, the glowing words swirled like tadpoles, streaming into his palm. A tremendous force surged into his mind, striking like a tidal wave. His head rang with pain so sharp it felt as though it would split apart, and his consciousness fell into darkness.
…
When the sun had already sunk behind the western hills, clusters of tiny golden osmanthus blossoms drifted down from the trees, falling onto his face. The tickling sensation startled him awake, and he suddenly sat upright from the reclining chair.
Shaking his head to clear the fog, he instinctively grabbed a teacup and poured himself a cup of cool tea. He drained it in one gulp, and gradually his mind grew clear again.
Li Yuan thought of the Lower Primordial Art he had been practicing. It was neither miraculous nor powerful, but steady and balanced—a common method chosen by most disciples of his sect.
Now, however, he could see within his mind the complete contents of the Qi Refinement stage of the True Art of Spirit Communication. Alongside it was a unique escape technique called "Between Water and Clouds," a movement art designed for fleeing danger, though it required late-stage Qi Refinement to practice.
Additionally, another text had appeared in his mind—an auxiliary scripture called the True Sutra of Ten Thousand Puppets. It detailed the methods for creating various puppets. At his current stage, he could only access two types:
A-Class Wood Puppet — skilled in combat.
B-Class Wood Puppet — capable of splitting into multiple images.
One excelled in close combat, the other in illusions. Used together, their combined power was formidable.
As he sat in the darkening courtyard, birds fluttered back to the mountain forests, their occasional chirps echoing faintly. Yet Li Yuan's heart only grew heavier with doubt.
For the sect he belonged to—Qiling Gate—was renowned across several provinces precisely for its mastery in puppet crafting.
Even more coincidentally, of the five puppet types the sect possessed, two were exactly the A-Class Wood Puppet and B-Class Wood Puppet.
If it were only the cultivation method that resembled his sect's arts, that could still be explained away as coincidence. But even the puppet techniques matched perfectly. This was a connection he could no longer dismiss.
Standing up, brushing the fallen osmanthus petals from his robes, Li Yuan gazed toward the darkening sky and murmured to himself:
"The encounters of fate weave the bonds of the world.The road of cultivation is long. I must exert every effort to climb high, and from there witness the storms of heaven and earth."
…
That night, amidst the quiet mountains and falling autumn rain, Li Yuan sat cross-legged in his meditation chamber, silently chanting the incantations of the new art. Strands of spiritual energy seeped into his pores, flowing through his body as the cultivation method circulated. A faint glow flickered across his skin as his qi coursed throughout.
He had begun cultivation at the age of twelve, and since then he had understood how arduous the path was.
To say nothing of the exalted Golden Core masters—even reaching Foundation Establishment was an insurmountable wall for countless Qi Refinement cultivators.
The Qi Refinement stage itself was divided into early, middle, and late stages, with some even adding a "pinnacle" stage beyond the late.
A Qi Refinement cultivator's lifespan was about two hundred years, but most ordinary disciples were trapped in the middle or late stages all their lives. Only those with exceptional roots could hope to advance higher.
In early Qi Refinement, one guided spiritual energy through the body to cleanse and purify the flesh. Only after the body was thoroughly refined could one step into mid-stage Qi Refinement.
At the middle stage, qi nourished the blood, transforming mortal blood into spiritual essence.
At the late stage, one was said to infuse the very bones with spirit, birthing immortal marrow, and forging the flawless body necessary for Foundation Establishment.
Currently, Li Yuan was merely in the early stage. His body's refinement was only thirty percent complete—still far from the middle stage.
Yet the moment he switched to the True Art of Spirit Communication, he could clearly feel his speed of absorbing spiritual energy had increased by more than half.
At this pace, he might reach mid-stage Qi Refinement before the age of thirty—nearly ten years faster than he had once expected!
Half a month of practice left him brimming with progress. Restraining his joy, he stepped out of his chamber.
It wasn't that he wished to stop cultivating, but sect duties awaited.
In Qiling Gate, there was no distinction between inner and outer disciples. Until one reached late-stage Qi Refinement, everyone was required to serve the sect for one month every three.
Li Yuan, having no background or powerful connections, naturally could not avoid this obligation. He invoked the Light-Body Technique and hurried toward the main hall atop Spirit Peak.
The Light-Body Technique was the most common spell of Qi Refinement cultivators. Channeling qi into the feet, it allowed one to traverse mountains with ease, traveling a thousand miles in a single day.
But when Li Yuan cast it this time, he felt an unfamiliar stiffness. Even stepping lightly upon branches, his movements were clumsy.
His heart sank. So soon—the flaws of the Spirit Communication Art were already showing.
Cultivators of the Qi Refinement stage relied heavily on spells and talismans. Magical tools were far too costly—one flying sword alone was worth dozens, even a hundred spirit stones, far beyond the reach of most.
Li Yuan had only ever mastered six or seven basic spells: Light-Body Technique, Clear Water Technique, Fireball Technique, Concealment Screen, Object Control, and Water Ring Technique.
There was also the Sand Flow Technique, which he had practiced for years but which remained unreliable.
These were all he had. And now, it seemed, even these were slipping away. He might instantly become one of the weakest among all early-stage cultivators.
His mood soured, but he persevered, cautiously hurrying along until the noonday sun revealed the halfway point of Spirit Peak.
Before him stood rows of grand pavilions and soaring towers, shrouded in drifting clouds, exuding an aura of magnificence.
Inside the great hall, more than a dozen disciples were already assembled—all summoned for the same service duty.
Li Yuan silently stood at the back. He was not a lively person by nature, and now, with his cultivation weak, he preferred to keep a low profile.
"Hey, Junior Brother Li Yuan!"
A tall, broad-shouldered man with dark skin called out to him. His voice was so booming that it filled the hall like a bell, drawing everyone's attention.
Li Yuan's face twitched with embarrassment, but he forced a small smile and replied softly:"Senior Brother Ruan, so you're here for duty as well."
"Hahaha! The sect rotates duties only seven or eight times a year. Guess we got lucky this round."
The big man—Ruan Jinghu—strode over and slapped Li Yuan's shoulder, nearly knocking him over.
Several disciples watching chuckled. One sneered, "Looks like Junior Brother Li Yuan really is frail. You'd best nourish that body of yours!"
Another added mockingly, "Indeed! Didn't even a common mortal nearly kill him once? And he dares call himself a cultivator?"
Laughter erupted among the group. To them, the idea of a cultivator nearly dying at the hands of an ordinary man was absurd.
"What was that? You dare mock my junior brother?" Ruan Jinghu's face darkened as he turned to glare at the speaker.
The mocking disciple immediately faltered, his smirk vanishing into a nervous grin. "Ah, Senior Brother Ruan, it was just my careless tongue. I deserve punishment!"
He slapped himself lightly twice on the cheeks before retreating into the crowd.
Ruan Jinghu snorted coldly, sweeping his gaze across the others. The laughter died instantly, and none dared meet his eyes.
After all, Ruan Jinghu was already a mid-stage Qi Refinement cultivator, and many believed he would soon be promoted to Spirit Peak Deacon in the next assembly. None of the early-stage disciples could compare to him.
Li Yuan clasped his hands and bowed. "Thank you, Senior Brother, for defending me."
"No need for thanks. We grew up in the same dormitory, didn't we? These people just bully the weak. If anyone dares trouble you again, come to me—I'll take care of it!"
Ruan Jinghu laughed heartily, thumping his chest.
Indeed, before the age of twelve, Li Yuan had lived on the mountain with two dozen other children, studying and preparing for cultivation. Ruan Jinghu had shared his dormitory back then. He was generous by nature, though lazy with his studies—often begging Li Yuan for help with his lessons.
Li Yuan rubbed his sore shoulder discreetly and smiled. "You're overthinking it, Senior Brother. We're all fellow disciples. And besides, duels are forbidden in the sect. Who would dare bully me?"
Ruan Jinghu practiced a secret body-tempering art, giving him immense strength. Even an absentminded pat from him nearly knocked Li Yuan flat.
"Hah! That's good. Just wait until next year—I'll definitely become a deacon. Then I'll be able to look after you properly!"
Li Yuan was about to reply when a sharp cough echoed through the hall. Everyone fell silent. A woman in a blue robe had appeared at the front.
All the disciples lowered their heads and bowed."Greetings, Elder Yun!"
The blue-robed woman swept her gaze over them, counting heads. Satisfied that all were present, she spoke:
"This may be the last time your service rotation follows the three-month schedule. By order of the two Patriarchs, from now on service duty will be rotated every two months instead!"
"What? Every two months?"
"That means four months of service every year!"
"But wasn't the three-month cycle the ancient rule? Why change it now?"
The disciples erupted in shock.
"Silence!"
Elder Yun's voice cracked like a whip. A fierce wind swept through the hall, making their robes flutter. The disciples instantly quieted, none daring to speak.
"This is the decree of the Patriarchs. No one in the sect may oppose it!
However, since service is increased, so too will your stipends. From now on, each disciple will receive an extra half-pound of spirit rice every month. Furthermore, the sect's library shall waive the spirit stone fee for accessing the True Explanation of Spirit Puppets. You may borrow it freely, though passing it outside the sect is strictly forbidden. Violation will result in the destruction of your cultivation!"
At these words, the disciples' faces brightened. The added rice and access to puppet scriptures would greatly aid their cultivation.
One by one, they bowed deeply."Thank you for the Patriarchs' benevolence!"
Li Yuan, like the others, followed suit. In truth, Qiling Gate already offered some of the best treatment among the surrounding sects.
Not only did every disciple receive their own cave dwelling, but also a monthly stipend of one spirit stone, half a pound of spirit rice, and even a storage pouch—an item worth twenty or thirty spirit stones—free of charge.
In comparison, the disciples of nearby Qingfeng Pavilion received only half a stone and a mere few ounces of spirit rice each month. The difference lay in the very foundation of the two sects.
(End of Chapter 2)