The streets of Huangshan buzzed with the daily noise of mortal life—vendors shouting, children running, and the clatter of wooden carts. Yet to Wu Ming, everything seemed distant, like echoes from another world. His cold eyes scanned the people around him as he stepped out of the inn, his black robe with faint white threads fluttering lightly in the wind.
He had cleaned himself the night before, washing away the blood and filth that once cloaked him like a beggar's shroud. Even with ordinary clothes, his face now bore a sharp, unapproachable beauty. When he descended the inn's staircase that morning, the landlady nearly dropped the tray in her hands. She remembered the filthy stranger who had stumbled in yesterday, and now before her stood a figure as though carved from jade—handsome, yet distant and chilling like winter snow.
Wu Ming ignored the stares. He had no interest in mortal admiration. What he needed were answers.
As he walked through the market, bits of conversation reached his ears. Talk of powerful families in the distant south—of clans said to possess unimaginable wealth and influence. More importantly, rumors of beings called Immortals.
At first, he dismissed them as drunken tales. But soon, he heard of one particular figure—an alleged "Immortal" who resided in Huangshan itself. The man was said to never age, to control the city's underworld, and to terrify mortals with his so-called undying body.
Wu Ming's eyes narrowed. Immortal? In a place like this?
Curiosity stirred inside him, pulling at something buried deep. Without hesitation, he began to track down this figure.
The so-called Immortal revealed himself sooner than expected. In the heart of Huangshan's square, a group of rough-looking men forced townsfolk to kneel. At their center stood a man in flowing green robes, his face painted with arrogance.
"I am beyond life and death," he declared, spreading his arms as frightened citizens bowed. "Kowtow, and perhaps I shall spare your pitiful lives."
Wu Ming stepped forward. His voice was cold, but calm.
"An Immortal should not need to announce himself so loudly."
The man's eyes narrowed, then widened slightly as he studied Wu Ming. He sensed something unfamiliar, something sharp. "Another fool who doesn't know fear? Very well. Kneel, or die."
Power surged from the man's body. To mortals, it was terrifying—a wave of energy that pressed upon their chests, making it hard to breathe. But to Wu Ming, it was different.
His heart trembled. This aura… it wasn't true immortality. Yet within it, faint and fragile, was something he recognized. A current of energy that was not of the mundane world.
Cultivation…
The memory struck him like lightning. Scenes flashed in his mind—him seated in meditation, guiding energy through his veins, chasing a path beyond mortality. Words surfaced, broken but clear:
Mortal – No energy, just an ordinary body.
Body Tempering – Strengthening bones, muscles, and skin to withstand energy.
Qi Condensation – Absorbing energy from the air and storing it in the Dantian.
Foundation Establishment – Beginning to build a solid base for cultivation.
Golden Core – Forming a golden energy core within the body.
Nascent Soul – The soul emerges from the body and begins to gain freedom.
Divine Transformation – Body and soul surpass ordinary humans.
Immortal Ascension – Transitioning to the Upper World.
… the stages to defy heaven itself.
The second seal on his chest pulsed. The ancient token he carried began to glow, releasing threads of golden light. Wu Ming staggered slightly as the seal unlocked, flooding him with fragments of knowledge.
The "Immortal" snarled. "You dare ignore me?!" He lunged forward, fist blazing with crude Qi.
Wu Ming raised his hand. His movements were calm, almost effortless. Their fists collided—yet it was the green-robed man who screamed, his bones shattering under the impact. He was hurled back, coughing blood, his arrogance crumbling into terror.
Wu Ming stood tall, the faint golden glow of the token fading into his chest. "You are no Immortal. Just a worm who touched the first step of cultivation."
The man collapsed to the ground, his supposed undying body nothing more than fragile flesh. Mortals who had once knelt in fear now watched in awe as Wu Ming turned and walked away, his black robe trailing behind him like a shadow.
That night, Wu Ming left Huangshan. His journey had only begun, and lingering here served no purpose. The second seal was open. The path forward had revealed itself.
Guided by whispers he overheard in the city, he ventured into a dense forest known for being infested with savage beasts. Trees towered like pillars, and unseen creatures howled in the darkness.
For three days, Wu Ming advanced deeper, his body moving with unnatural precision, avoiding predators and cutting down lesser beasts when necessary. Finally, he discovered a hidden cave, its entrance covered by vines.
He stepped inside, lit a small flame, and sat cross-legged upon the cold stone floor. The faint sound of dripping water echoed through the cavern. Closing his eyes, he focused on the token embedded in his chest.
Suddenly, his consciousness was pulled away.
When he opened his eyes, he stood not in the cave, but in a vast hall. Endless shelves stretched into the horizon, filled with ancient scrolls and jade slips glowing with faint light. The air was thick with spiritual energy, so pure it made his soul tremble.
Before him floated a single shelf, unlocked and glowing faintly. Words appeared in the air:
"First Seal – Body Tempering.Second Seal – Foundation of Qi.Access granted."
Wu Ming stepped forward. On the first shelf rested basic cultivation techniques—methods to refine the body, circulate Qi, and establish a proper foundation. But one scroll in particular drew his eyes. Unlike the others, it radiated heavenly light.
He reached out.
"Heavenly Gathering Art – A technique to draw Qi of the world, endless and pure."
His fingers closed around the glowing scroll. Knowledge surged into him, etching itself into his mind. The first step was clear.
Wu Ming opened his eyes once more. He was back in the cave, the cold stone beneath him. Yet something had changed. The air itself seemed to hum, as though responding to him.
For the first time, Wu Ming took a deep breath, guiding faint strands of Qi into his body.
His lips curled slightly—not a smile, but a sharp determination.
"This… is where the true path begins."