Qingyun Mountains.
The mountains rose steeply, full of strange rocks and mist that never seemed to disappear, making the whole scene feel like the world of the immortals.
At the foot of the mountain, two figures broke the silence.
One walked ahead, while the other followed behind.
The person in front looked to be in his early forties, wearing a bluish-green Daoist robe. His steps were light and graceful, barely leaving a trace of dust.
The one behind seemed to be in his twenties, with a smooth, neat face. He wore a plain white outfit, looking like a young scholar taking a stroll in spring. Unfortunately, his cloth shoes were muddied, which made him look slightly out of place.
Probably because of yesterday's rain, the mountain ground was still wet and slippery.
I, Ye Ping, walked along the mountain path, with countless thoughts running through my mind.
I felt utterly unlucky.
Three years ago, I was just a regular office worker on Earth, trapped in the exhausting 996 routine.
But because of an accident, I ended up in this world—a world that resembled ancient times.
Except… it wasn't any dynasty I knew. Not Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, or Qing.
Here, it was called the Immortal Martial Era.
I fell into a small country called Jin.
At first, I didn't care much. I thought that as someone who "crossed worlds," there had to be some advantage. Besides, the idea of living in a feudal society with three wives and four concubines didn't sound too bad either.
Moreover, people have always said, "Of all paths in life, learning is the highest." So I thought, no matter the era, studying would lead to success. To make life easier, I threw myself into learning.
Maybe others who transmigrated wouldn't bother studying, but I was different. I loved reading. By coincidence, in the Jin Kingdom, there was a rule: every student got ten years of free education. That meant learning without paying a single coin! How could I not be happy?
Who would refuse free knowledge along with the chance to earn a degree?
So for the past three years, I was truly diligent. I memorized the Seven Books and Nine Classics, could recite wise quotes smoothly, and with my literary background, I even occasionally composed beautiful poetry.
Like:
"Life drifts away like a river; mortality is but a fleeting dream."
Or:
"Why does a man not lift his sword to reclaim the lands of fifty states? Three thousand miles of battle, one sword against a million troops."
Of course, I had to tweak some parts to fit this world. Because this world didn't have the same place names or borders as Earth.
But because of those poems, I gained a bit of recognition in the Jin Kingdom.
And just when I was fully determined to participate in the imperial exam, something happened that shattered everything.
On the way to the capital, I saw someone flying in the sky with a sword, free and majestic.
That's when I realized—this world was actually a cultivation world.
My heart sank instantly.
Three years of hard studying!
Do you know how that feels?
I thought this was a scholar's world, where learning could bring success. But it turned out, this was a world of cultivators.
And in a cultivation world… who cares about scholars?
Even a prime minister is just an ant in the eyes of cultivators. Even a king must bow before them.
Once I knew the truth, I threw away my books and started chasing the Immortal Dao.
I thought the path would be long.
Turns out, not really. Cultivators weren't rare here—they were everywhere.
Within a month, I had joined four or five Eternal Recruitment events.
There were countless sects in this world. They held recruitments every year, ready to accept students as long as they had a spiritual root.
But after more than fifty attempts, I ended up on the blacklist of every sect in Qingzhou. Why? Because I had no spiritual root.
And that wasn't uncommon. In fact, it was the worst. A "trash" body incapable of cultivation.
But strangely, I wasn't sad. I was happy.
Isn't this typical of cultivation novels?
The more useless you are at first, the stronger you become in the end, right?
So I didn't give up. I kept joining recruitments, confident that one day I would enter a sect and rise.
But for these sects, someone without a spiritual root was worthless. They would never accept me.
Until… I met my savior.
The middle-aged man ahead of me was Daoist Taihua.
Master of the 18th Sect of Dao Qingyun.
He saw me in the crowd and agreed to accept me as a disciple, teaching me the art of cultivation.
There was only one condition: unpaid apprenticeship. No salary, no allowance.
In short, no money.
But I didn't care. Money was trivial. Cultivation was far more important. Once I became an immortal, how could I ever lack money?
Just thinking about it made my heart race.
This cave was full of swirling mist, like the heaven of immortals. The cool wind cleared my mind. Nervousness, anticipation, and awe blended together.
To me, the figure of an immortal was magnificent.
Imagine flying in the sky with a sword, traveling across nine provinces with your white robe fluttering. How beautiful it was!
And I remembered this verse:
"When an immortal pats my head, I tie my hair and reach for immortality."
One word. Perfect.
But while I was still lost in thought, Daoist Taihua was secretly delighted.
He had only come down the mountain for a minor errand, yet returned with a new disciple.
And better yet, a disciple who didn't ask for an allowance. Truly a double blessing.
The competition among sects in Qingzhou was fierce. Talented disciples were snatched up by the big sects. Ordinary ones were still contested. The rest were mere leftovers.
As a result, disciple allowances rose every year.
Everyone knew, without a spiritual root, entering a sect only meant becoming a servant. Learning wouldn't bring much benefit. Even practicing martial arts at the dojo might be more fruitful.
Cultivation wasn't just about holding a book and instantly becoming strong. If it were that easy, everyone would already be immortal.
That's why there were small sects that didn't get a single disciple for a whole year. Especially a disciple who didn't ask for a salary.
So it was no wonder Daoist Taihua's heart was very happy.
The only worry he had was whether I could keep the sect looking "prestigious." If I left again, it would be troublesome.
But he didn't feel guilty. I was the one who wanted to learn cultivation, while all the other sects had rejected me. So this was a mutual agreement. The sect might be poor, but even a rich sect wouldn't have accepted me.
If there was any guilt, it was just for not providing an allowance. But Daoist Taihua silently promised himself—if the sect pr
ospered, he would repay this kindness to me.
With that thought, we finally arrived at the mountain gate of Dao Qingyun Sect.
[TO BE CONTINUED]