Li Yan heard a sound and froze in mid-action. Lifting his head in search of its source, he saw—at the door—a young man with a gentle demeanor already stepping into the room.
Li Yan's eyes fixed on the newcomer. In that moment, he felt certain this was no mere dream or an illusion of the mind. Yet he remained unsure of his true surroundings, so he kept silent—waiting to see what might unfold.
The young man offered a warm smile and said, "Hehe, greetings, little brother. I am… my surname is Yu…" After entering, he calmly pulled a chair over and sat down. His tone was courteous, and his light laughter filled the space as he began his introduction.
Within half an hour, Li Yan slowly began to understand his strange predicament. It turned out he was now inside the legendary immortal sect—a place spoken of in hushed tones by cultivators—and the reason he had been brought here was due to his inadvertent cultivation of the sect's "Wu Ye Lian Qing Gong." Rumor had it that his practice might even have given rise to what they called a "scattered poison body." The idea that his broken leg could have healed so completely and that the burning fire poison that once tormented him had vanished without a trace only lent credence to these theories—even if he himself was incredulous.
During that period, a cultivator surnamed Yu repeatedly pressed Li Yan about his cultivation progress. As Li Yan answered, he couldn't help but detect hints in this man's expression and wordplay—suggestions that his questions were really aimed at uncovering something about this mysterious "poison body." Li Yan's recollection was piecemeal at best. He only remembered that, at the end, when the former military strategist had poured his entire reserve of powerful energy into him, his inner fire poison had burst forth uncontrollably, plunging him into unconsciousness. A vague suspicion crept into his mind that the whole affair might be connected to the "Gui Shui Zhen Jing," another secret technique he dared not mention. After the bitter intrigues and betrayals surrounding the strategist's actions, trust had become a luxury he could no longer afford. How was he to know the true nature of the immortal sect he now found himself in—or the intentions of the man before him?
All Li Yan had done was recount the story of how he had come to master the "Mu Yin Gong." He deliberately withheld the true name of the immortal technique and any details about the subsequent changes in his body—especially the final, devastating infusion from the dying strategist.
The cultivator surnamed Yu listened intently and furrowed his brows. Though he struggled to understand every twist of Li Yan's tale, what was said seemed internally consistent. After a short meal together, the cultivator quietly excused himself and left the room.
Not long after his departure, a Confucian scholar in his thirties entered with several elderly men in tow. The very presence of these old men was oppressive—each one seemed like a massive mountain bearing down on Li Yan, making his very breath shallow. Strangely, the scholar himself evoked no such discomfort.
As the group assembled, the elders' gloomy faces gathered around Li Yan. The Confucian scholar, without uttering a word at first, strode purposefully toward him and reached out with a sudden grip on his wrist. In an instant, a continuous surge of energy streamed through Li Yan's body, darting to every nook and cranny. Li Yan's instincts screamed at him to pull away, but he was powerless to evade—a defenseless lamb facing a ravenous wolf.
In only a few heartbeats, the scholar released his grip, his face tinged with disappointment. He asked a few brief questions, and after a moment of silent contemplation, he exchanged a knowing glance with the assembled elders before stepping aside.
One after the other, the elderly men approached and each administered their own measures upon Li Yan. There was nothing he could do other than submit—resistance was futile.
After a quiet session marked by a shared cup of tea, the scholar led the group out of the room, leaving behind an eerie silence as not a single elder spoke a word from beginning to end.
By dawn, no further visitors arrived. When Li Yan eventually awoke, he found himself staring blankly out the window, overwhelmed by uncertainty. Thoughts churned in his mind: What lay ahead? How could he possibly navigate this strange new life?
At midday, the cultivator with the surname Yu returned bearing food. Once more, the conversation turned to Li Yan's past. This time, the discussion was dominated by the cultivator's questions—he was evidently curious about every detail of Li Yan's earlier life. Though Li Yan answered dutifully, the questions seemed focused on probing the elusive subject of his "poison body." Li Yan felt that the cultivator's inquiries were trying to pry into the mysterious affliction, yet he knew so little about it himself. Moreover, with the secrecy imposed around the "Gui Shui Zhen Jing," he was forced to tread very carefully in his replies.
As another half-hour passed in this interrogation, frustration began to bubble within Li Yan. Although the surname Yu cultivator maintained a gentle and polite manner, his questions soon turned so detailed that they probed into every trivial aspect of Li Yan's former life spent in the military strategist's valley. Li Yan's irritation grew; he resolved that if the questioning continued further, he would simply refuse to answer. After all, he was already too uncertain about his own fate to fear any further probing.
At that very moment, a shadow flickered by the doorway—a sudden movement. A man had slipped into the room like a specter. Both Li Yan and the cultivator surnamed Yu were taken aback. As the newcomer's features slowly came into view, the cultivator hastily stood and bowed deeply. "Greetings, Master Uncle Li," he intoned respectfully.
The newcomer was striking—tall, slender, and clearly around twenty years of age. His face was chiseled like jade, with vibrant red lips and gleaming white teeth. His eyebrows, sharp as a sword, and his eyes, bright as stars, betrayed an unearthly grace. His long, jet-black hair was casually tied and draped over his shoulders, and he wore a dark green robe that lent him an aura of otherworldly elegance.
Upon laid eyes on him, Li Yan couldn't help but murmur under his breath, "What a fine figure indeed."
The young man casually glanced at the cultivator with the surname Yu, waved a hand dismissively, and said, "Ah, this little brother Li has caused you some trouble. Please, step aside. I shall have a word with Brother Li, and then I will escort him back to Xiao Zhu Peak. Master Feng has already been informed of these matters."
The cultivator's eyes widened in shock. "Little Brother Li? Taken back to Xiao Zhu Peak? So this means the young man is going to become a disciple of Xiao Zhu Peak? It looks like the higher-ups have already decided on your fate regarding this 'scattered poison body.' Alas, that means I will no longer have the opportunity to glean further information from you. I was assigned here simply because I was the first to discover you—and I even saved you. Otherwise, with my own standing, why would I be entrusted with your care? I had hoped to use this advantage to uncover some secrets of the poison body technique, yet it appears you have already ascended to high heights. I've even heard that you possess a mixed spiritual root—how, then, could the elders allow you to join Xiao Zhu Peak?" The cultivator's internal questions swirled, though he dared not voice them. Despite knowing this "Master Uncle Li," in such a vast sect, Li's acquaintance hardly recognized him at all.
Hastily, he bowed once more to the newcomer, and also to Li Yan who sat on the bed, before turning to leave.
As Li Yan watched, still confused, he noticed that the cultivator—just moments before stern and inquisitive—had suddenly addressed him with great deference. This change of tone left him both surprised and mystified; he merely returned the respectful gesture with a slight bow without a word.
The newcomer then took a few deliberate steps toward Li Yan and studied him for a moment. With a radiant smile, he said, "Hehe, Brother Li, what a coincidence. I, too, bear the surname Li. Perhaps our shared ancestry stretches back thousands of years. My name is Li Wu Yi. From now on, we will belong to the same Peak and the same sect. You may address me as Senior Brother Li or Master Brother—it's entirely up to you."
Li Wu Yi's laughter was hearty and infectious; his few succinct sentences had the effect of a refreshing spring breeze brushing over Li Yan's weary senses.
Still perplexed, Li Yan asked, "Master Brother? The same Peak and the same sect? How do you mean?"
With a warm smile, Li Wu Yi explained, "It appears that the junior disciple who greeted you earlier did not give you the full picture. Allow me to introduce our sect briefly. Our sect is known as the 'Wang Liang Sect'—one of the four foremost immortal cultivation sects on this great continent. Within our sect, we have five peaks: Old Sovereign Peak, Bu Li Peak, Four Images Peak, Ling Chong Peak, and Xiao Zhu Peak. Each of these peaks specializes in a different aspect of the immortal arts.
"Old Sovereign Peak primarily focuses on alchemy and the cultivation of medicinal plants, with its disciples refining not only immortality pills but also various rare toxic elixirs. They also take charge of cultivating exotic herbs and poisonous botanicals. Their techniques center on the fire element with a secondary emphasis on wood. Bu Li Peak, on the other hand, is dedicated to the clandestine training of marvelous gu insects. These mystical pests, once they infest a body, fuse with flesh and bone in such a way that they can never be separated—hence the name, which suggests an unyielding union. Their methods are based on the metal element. Then there is Four Images Peak, where practitioners set up phantom formations and death arrays, sometimes utilizing poisonous miasma or toxic fog. Their art is primarily grounded in the earth element. Ling Chong Peak specializes in raising venomous insects and other poisonous creatures, and its techniques draw from the wood element. Finally, Xiao Zhu Peak deals with miscellaneous and support duties—in other words, they handle tasks such as cooking, watering, planting, and even the raising of poisonous insects. In the techniques of Xiao Zhu Peak, elements from all sectors are represented in small amounts."
Though Li Wu Yi's explanation detailed methods that were undeniably harsh and even wicked, his tone remained disarmingly calm and matter-of-fact—as if he were describing an everyday routine rather than the dark arts of cultivation. After speaking, he cast a brief glance at Li Yan.
Li Yan's face grew pale as he thought to himself, "What sort of immortal sect follows such venomous, evil practices?" Yet Li Wu Yi continued, "You will learn all the specifics once you have spent some time here. Because you have already practiced our sect's 'Wu Ye Lian Qing Gong,' you are, without question, one of our disciples. In fact, the method you originally followed was from the introductory curriculum of Ling Chong Peak, but since your body's strongest affinity is for water rather than wood, the sect has ultimately decided to have you join Xiao Zhu Peak. However, given that our Master has already reached the Golden Core stage, you will, for now, merely be registered as a nominal disciple. Once you reach the Foundation Establishment stage, you can officially become the disciple of a master. There is nothing to worry about—as long as you practice diligently, you will progress swiftly."
In all of this, Li Wu Yi never explicitly stated that Li Yan had a mixed spiritual root. He only mentioned that his water elemental affinity was marginally better, offering a small measure of encouragement with a gentle look in his eyes.
After hearing this, Li Yan's expression remained unchanged. After a long moment of introspection, he finally said, "May I choose not to join? I want to go home."
Li Yan did not address him as "Senior Brother." Having sat in that room for what felt like an eternity, his emotions had finally begun to settle. Though he had only just begun to grasp the basics of immortal cultivation—and the many benefits which joining an immortal sect could bring—his heart was heavy with worry for his family. His father, once the border commander known as Qing Shan, and his military strategist were both gone. With the enemy state of Meng Kingdom surely poised to launch an invasion, and Li Family Village situated too near to the border—the enemy could reach his home in merely half a day—what future awaited his parents and elder siblings? Anxiety churned inside him. Moreover, he possessed the complete "Gui Shui Zhen Jing" immortal manual. Once his family affairs were settled, he intended to seek a place rich in spiritual energy and practice as a wandering cultivator.
Taken aback by this response, Li Wu Yi's handsome face showed a flash of incredulity. "Go home? But you're in the Wang Liang Sect!" he declared. "Sure, we may not belong to one of the so-called orthodox sects, yet the Wang Liang Sect is one of the most formidable forces on this continent. For a cultivator to refuse to join it—it clearly shows you are not some feeble, academic wretch. You have already reached a level of cultivation that comes with understanding even a little about the immortal arts. How could you possibly entertain such an idea?"
He paused, then said with a hearty laugh, "I suspect you're already at the second tier of the Condensation Period, aren't you? I've heard from our master about your background—it seems you were misled into the path of cultivation, and for someone like you, many aspects of the immortal realm remain unknown. But the essential purpose of immortal cultivation is to achieve longevity—to grant you a lifespan several times, even tens of times, longer than that of an ordinary mortal. With the right opportunity, you may even live as long as the heavens and the earth. Look at me—I'm seventy-four years old, and that is the advantage of immortal cultivation. Not only that, but you will gain great divine abilities, enough to reverse the courses of rivers, swallow vast clouds, and exhale mists as though they were nothing."
Li Wu Yi assumed that Li Yan, who was still a novice in the world of immortal arts, would be content with his explanation. But before he could continue, Li Yan abruptly interrupted him.
"Thank you for your kind words," Li Yan said, "but the fact remains that my hometown's border commander and military strategist are dead, and the enemy Meng Kingdom is about to invade. My parents and elder siblings live so close by—I must rush back to warn them to relocate." Li Yan was not one to become overly sentimental; he understood that his listener could not possibly grasp the gravity of his personal predicament, so he stated his reason in no uncertain terms.
In that instant, a realization struck him. "Condensation Period, level two? I'm already there…" From the moment he awoke, Li Yan had felt as if he were caught in a surreal dream. With the constant barrage of questioning and the heavy weight of his thoughts, he had simply not noticed the gradual improvement in his own cultivation level. In a sudden surge, he sensed an inner spiritual energy—now several times stronger than before—billowing and pulsating within him. In the very next heartbeat, his awareness faded into the background; clearly, this was not the moment to evaluate his cultivation progress.
Listening to Li Yan's explanation, Li Wu Yi couldn't help but laugh softly. "Ah, so it is for this reason. Then do not trouble yourself. Our four great immortal sects each oversee different regions of this continent. Your homeland falls under the jurisdiction of one of the subordinate sects of the Wang Liang Sect. In those regions, the mortal dynasties are supported and even allocated by us. As for the impending rise of the Meng Kingdom, have no fear. Because you possess the so-called 'scattered poison body,' the junior disciple who brought you here was certain of your future as a sect member. In fact, the subordinate sect governing your area has already been informed to prevent any enemy state from provoking your imperial dynasty. If they didn't, that Meng Kingdom would have no purpose at all. This special privilege is reserved for disciples of second-tier or higher immortal sects, ensuring that if any mishaps befall one's family, retribution is forestalled."
He continued, "However, this protection extends only to your immediate family—not to later generations or collateral relatives, lest it lead to rampant conflicts. For billions of years, no nation without a cultivator could ever dare to act. And more importantly, you are now a disciple of the Wang Liang Sect. By the looks of it, the subordinate sect should have already located and secured your parents and elder siblings. Even if a war were to break out between nations, you would remain unaffected."
Li Wu Yi's eyes gleamed with pride as he finished speaking. Yet Li Yan could only listen in silence, his heart brimming with skepticism. In his mind, these assurances seemed designed solely to keep him tethered to the sect and to extract something rare from him—a bargaining chip, rather than genuine benevolence.
After all, Li Yan was still a fledgling cultivator whose knowledge of the immortal arts was but superficial. How could he possibly trust that an entire nation would realistically be controlled by a vast immortal sect—and that so many nations would be united and regulated under a single governing body? Besides, he harbored deep reservations about this arrangement, and that was yet another reason he longed to leave.