Mount Azure stood proudly at the northern edge of the continent's great mountain range, its mist-shrouded peaks piercing the early morning sky. At its base lay a small, humble village. The people there lived simple lives—tilling the fields, raising livestock, and gathering around the fire at night to share tales passed down through generations. Few ever left the village, and fewer still returned.
To them, the outside world was distant and dangerous—a place of chaos best left alone. Life here moved slowly but peacefully, just as it had for countless years.
That peace, however, was about to change.
It was dawn, and the villagers had gathered at the wooden gate to see off a young man of about sixteen. Though his frame was slender and frail, his fair complexion and bright, steady eyes carried a quiet strength. He wore a plain blue robe that had been washed so many times its color had nearly faded, yet his calm and composed bearing gave him an air of intelligence beyond his years.
His name was Shen Yuan.
He stepped forward, clasped his hands respectfully, and bowed.
"Village Elders, Village Chief, and fellow villagers," he said earnestly. "Today, I leave to represent our village and pursue the path of immortality. I, Shen Yuan, will never forget your kindness and guidance through the years. I will miss you all."
His voice trembled faintly. Though he tried to appear calm, the emotion in his eyes betrayed him—it was never easy to part from the only home he had ever known.
The villagers exchanged uneasy glances and forced smiles, though sorrow lingered on every face.
Then, an old woman stepped out from the crowd, her back slightly bent with age but her eyes warm and steady.
"Yuan," she said softly, "the path of immortality is harsh and full of danger. You must take care of yourself. If it ever becomes too difficult, remember—you can always return. This village will always be your home."
Shen Yuan bowed deeply. "I will remember."
As he straightened, the morning mist over the village gate began to swirl unnaturally, as though stirred by an unseen wind. A faint humming sound echoed from above—soft at first, then growing louder until it resonated in every heart present. The villagers shielded their eyes and looked up in awe.
High in the sky, a streak of light tore through the clouds, descending like a falling star. Within moments, a young man in dark blue robes appeared, standing effortlessly atop a gleaming sword that floated beneath his feet. His presence carried an ethereal pressure—calm yet vast, like the heavens themselves.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"It's an immortal…"
"An immortal has descended from the heavens!"
One by one, the villagers fell to their knees, bowing deeply in reverence. For most, this was the first time they had ever witnessed a cultivator.
The young man landed gracefully a few steps away from Shen Yuan. His black hair was neatly tied back, and his sharp gaze held both strength and serenity. The air around him shimmered faintly with spiritual energy, the soft whisper of wind weaving through it like a heavenly melody.
"You must be Shen Yuan," he said, his voice steady and refined. "I am Bai Li, a core disciple of the Blossom Spring Sect. By order of the Sect Master, I've come to escort you to the sect."
"Greetings, Immortal!" the villagers chorused, lowering their heads even further.
Bai Li smiled faintly. "There is no need for such formality. I am but a disciple of the sect."
Then, turning to Shen Yuan, a faint light flickered in his eyes. "You are indeed the one my uncle spoke of. Before anything else, allow me to express my gratitude. If not for you, my uncle's life might have been lost."
Shen Yuan blinked, startled. "Your… uncle?"
Bai Li nodded slightly. "Elder Bai Mingning, of the Blossom Spring Sect. You met him two months ago, did you not?"
At that, the crowd stirred, their curiosity piqued. All eyes turned toward Shen Yuan. He hesitated for a moment, then lowered his gaze, memories flooding back—memories of the day that had changed his fate.
---
Two Months Ago
The deep forest north of the village was quiet, save for the distant calls of beasts and the rustle of leaves in the wind. Shen Yuan had ventured there to hunt, hoping to bring back food for the villagers. He had no family—his parents had died in a wild beast attack when he was still a child—so from a young age, he learned to fend for himself and contribute however he could.
That day, while following a deer trail along the riverbank, he stumbled upon a man lying half-submerged in the water. The man's robes were torn and bloodstained, his body covered in wounds. Even so, his chest rose and fell weakly—he was still alive.
Without hesitation, Shen Yuan carried the stranger back to his small hut and tended to his injuries. Days passed, then weeks. Slowly, the man regained his strength. When he finally awoke, confusion filled his eyes, but upon learning that Shen Yuan had saved him, he expressed deep gratitude.
He introduced himself as Bai Mingning, an elder of the Blossom Spring Sect. Though weakened and unable to use his cultivation, he spent several weeks recovering under Shen Yuan's care.
Before departing, he turned to Shen Yuan with a faint smile.
"You have a kind heart and a steady spirit," he said. "If fate allows, I will recommend you to my sect's master. When the next disciple selection is held, I shall see that your name is among the candidates. And if you pass… I will take you as my personal disciple."
From that day onward, he waited patiently for the promise to be fulfilled.
"Brother Shen, let's go."
Bai Li's calm voice pulled Shen Yuan out of his thoughts. He blinked and looked up to see the young cultivator holding a slender sword in his hand. Its blade was pale silver, smooth as glass, and faintly emitted a gentle hum as spiritual light rippled along its surface.
From Bai Li's storage pouch, he withdrew a jade talisman that glowed softly, and with a casual flick of his wrist, the sword floated upright in the air before Shen Yuan.
"This flying sword will take us to the sect," Bai Li explained. "Step onto it and stand steady. I will control it until we reach the Blossom Spring Mountains."
Shen Yuan hesitated. His gaze shifted toward the village—the place that had been his home for sixteen years. The crooked fences, the fields of golden grain, the narrow dirt paths winding between simple thatched houses—all of it seemed more vivid in that moment than ever before. The villagers stood watching silently, their faces a mixture of pride and sorrow.
He took a deep breath and nodded. "Understood."
Carefully, Shen Yuan stepped onto the sword. For a moment, he wobbled slightly, the sensation of standing on something that wasn't solid ground sending a thrill through his body. But as the sword steadied under Bai Li's control, a faint, invisible force held his balance firm.
Bai Li's fingers formed a seal, and the sword began to rise.
The air stirred. Dust and mist scattered as the sword ascended from the ground, lifting the two figures higher and higher. Gasps of awe escaped from the villagers below. Children pointed upward with wide eyes; the old woman who had spoken earlier wiped her tears, whispering a quiet blessing.
"Take care, Yuan!" someone shouted.
"May the heavens watch over you!" another called out.
Shen Yuan looked down one last time. The sight of the villagers waving, the smoke curling from their chimneys, and the fading outline of the only home he'd ever known burned deeply into his memory.
He cupped his hands and shouted, voice clear and full of emotion:
"Take care, everyone! I'll return one day!"
As if answering his vow, a warm breeze swept through the village, carrying with it the faint fragrance of blooming spring grass.
The flying sword accelerated, breaking through the mist that blanketed Mount Azure. The world below grew smaller, and the horizon opened wide—mountains, rivers, and forests stretching endlessly beneath them.
For the first time, Shen Yuan saw the vastness of the world beyond the village. His heart pounded with a mix of fear and exhilaration. The wind roared past his ears, and the clouds brushed against his skin like cool silk.
Below him, the familiar world faded into memory. Ahead, beyond the sea of clouds, lay the unknown path of cultivation—one of trials, danger, and endless wonder.
And so, beneath the morning sun, Shen Yuan and Bai Li vanished into the village, leaving behind the peaceful village at the foot of Mount Azure.
It was the beginning of a journey that would change his fate forever.