In a fishing village, a baby was left in the doorsteps of the local temple.
Along with the baby was an ornate side-blown jade flute.
The baby cried endlessly for two days before sleeping—a monk decisively named him Wuji, meaning limitless, for the endless crying.
These weren't just monks.
They were warriors — martial monks who belonged to the Jianghu, the world of martial artists.
But like most of the secular world, even they hadn't come into contact with the world of immortal cultivation.
Thus, Wuji grew up in the temple.
He learned how to play the flute while also learning the staff arts of the temple.
His head wasn't yet shaved as he wasn't at the age of taking the vows.
The temple raised orphans until they were twenty. At that age, they could either take the vows, stay on as temple hands, or leave to find their own path.
Wuji was fifteen this year.
He didn't have any plans of leaving the temple, although he sometimes wondered what life could be like out there.
The monks often joked about him losing his pretty white hair if he planned to get ordained.
Yes, Wuji was considered quite handsome, almost as if chosen by Heaven.
Thankfully, he was safe from female attention in the temple grounds, but he did hog attention when buying groceries or eating down the mountain.
Most of Wuji's days consisted of either training the staff, his body, doing chores, or practicing the flute. Then, he read scriptures in the evening.
One day, just like any other, Wuji found himself playing his jade flute of unknown origin—he had given it the name of Qingyu Flute.
Suddenly, someone burst into the small clearing he was in.
It was Brother Jishen, a younger monk in the temple.
"Wuji! Come with me now! Don't ask questions!" It was clearly an emergency, so Wuji quickly obeyed.
As they ran rapidly back to the temple, Brother Jishen explained, "The fishing village is being pillaged by powerful pirates. The other monks have already gone to help. Since you're the oldest orphan on the temple, I need you to take the rest with you on a boat to the nearby island, Wuji."
"I understand." Wuji wasn't aware of why the situation was so dire, but he listened.
"To tell you the truth, we wouldn't normally evacuate you. I was left behind to guard the temple, but a senior brother came back to tell me that they were outmatched by a pirate at the martial peak. I'm going to delay them from discovering you, so you need to quickly flee, okay? They are bloodthirsty and will leave no witnesses alive to report to the sects or the government in time."
It was then that Wuji understood, a martial peak expert was among the pirates! Of course, they had to flee. The strongest in the temple were three first-rate experts. They couldn't resist for long with just them.
Wuji himself just recently became a third-rate expert, finally being considered a real martial artist. This was considered quite talented.
A martial peak expert was only one full realm above first-rate, but the higher the realm, the higher the difference between stages.
So Wuji didn't maintain any delusion of helping just to make trouble, he accepted their help and said, "You can rest assured, Brother Jishen, I'll do my best!"
Jishen nodded, "Good. Senior Brother Guanbao, the one that came earlier to warn me, has already found a boat on the coast for you to use. It's down the cliff from that lonesome plum tree, you know the place, right?"
"Yes!" It was a plum tree planted by someone years ago, standing alone on the road.
"Alright, the rest are ready to leave. Let's split up here. Just take them to the boat and protect them from any stray pirate that might be wandering." Wuji could see the fear in Brother Jishen's eyes, but he could only ignore it.
"Thank you, Brother Jishen. Take care."
"Amitabha, Wuji. Be sure to stay safe."
Then they split up, one heading to the pirates, one heading to the orphans.
Wuji arrived at the temple and immediately counted the apprentice orphans to depart—all eight were there.
"Everyone, follow me!" Wuji was already considered the older brother of the group, and they were already expecting him, so they quickly followed.
On the way, they met a pirate dragging a girl into the woods.
Wuji broke his neck and invited the girl to join them after saying Amitabha for the pirate's dirty soul to be cleansed.
It ended quickly as the pirate wasn't even a third-rate.
The girl blushed and followed.
Then they came across a scared boy, taking his baby sister away in his arms.
The pair followed.
With no more encounters on the road, they finally descended the cliff from where the plum tree was, and there they found the boat after looking around.
Everyone easily boarded, and then they set sail.
It was worth mentioning that the boat was a little cramped, but still fine.
It had an interior sleeping space and storage room that fit everyone.
One big problem they had was that they were low on food and only had some barrels of booze and some dried fish that would last them all about five days.
The other problem was that none of them knew how to sail except for Wuji, who only had limited experience from asking a fisher once.
Monks didn't fish, and the three children didn't fish either.
---
Two weeks drifted by.
By the end, only Wuji remained.
He watched them die—starvation, madness, and desperation. A few cursed the heavens. One sang a lullaby until the end.
He had promised to take care of them. He failed.
He had to throw their corpses overboard, one by one—each with heavier guilt.
At night, the sea was endless and cold. The stars offered no comfort.
That was when he gave himself a name if he survived.
Xiao Wuji—Endless Sorrow.
Not as a title. But as a reminder.
To serve as a reminder of his weakness and carelessness.
They didn't have to sail. He shouldn't have reassured his senior brother.
But he unknowingly condemned their lives in the heat of the moment, forgetting his inadequateness for actually following the plan.
As he had done for the past two weeks, he played a final requiem for the last one to go—surprisingly, it was the little child the boy was carrying in his arms.
He hadn't even known their names—not her's, not the other girl's, nor the boy's. He never asked.
In this requiem, his emotions burst forth, playing a tune he didn't know he was capable of playing.
As if the heavens themselves started weeping, heavy rain came pouring forth.
But even in the sudden thunderstorm, Wuji kept playing.
It was a tune of sadness and sorrow, but also of longing and desperation.
Desperation to survive, to become something, to find meaning, redemption.
All he wanted was to not be the last one to die alone in this wretched sea due to his carelessness.
As if the heavens had heard his plea, lightning descended.
It didn't hit the taller mast. It hit his flute.
Wuji immediately passed out with the flute still clenched in his hand.
As for what happened? It was a Heavenly Baptism—it was the birth of a Dao Treasure.
Wuji and the monks didn't know, but in this lower realm, immortal cultivation existed.
Only, there were no spiritual roots, with cultivators replacing them with the use of Dao Treasures.
As for Dao Treasures, there were two types.
Natural Dao Treasures were directly birthed from heaven and earth, while Baptized Dao Treasures were different.
They were, as the name says, Baptized!
These were regular items owned by people, and when people died, their soul might resonate with heaven and a deeply personal object to create an event known as a Heavenly Baptism that births a new Dao Treasure.
Natural Dao Treasures need to be identified and require the use of the Resonance Mantra to be soulbound to a cultivator.
Meanwhile, Baptized Dao Treasures resonate with their surroundings and emit a calling. If someone accepts their calling by touching them, they'll either die or have the Dao Treasure bound to them.
This is the origin of many cursed items in the secular world, and cultivators often keep an eye out for such tales.
But what happened to Xiao Wuji is simply unprecedented.
Without dying, he managed to channel a Heavenly Baptism to his Qingyu Flute and directly bind with it.
The amount of qi involved in the baptism also directly elevated him to the first phase of the Qi Gathering stage.
This saved his life as he continued to drift unconsciously in the seas for another two days.
As soon as he awoke, he was thirsty and wanted to pee.
So he did, and then he drank some more of the booze.
But after this, for some reason, he felt... better? He realized he was incomparably stronger!
He also realized his flute was gone.
Maybe it fell to the sea, he guessed.
But when he thought of it, he realized it was apparently inside him.
Yes, almost as if there was a spiritual sea in his mind where the flute had been stored.
He tried to call it out, and it worked. The Qingyu Flute reappeared in his hand.
"What's this? What happened to me? Did the lightning elevate my martial arts and fuse me with the flute? Or am I hallucinating?"
'No, I feel so clear-headed, almost unnaturally so. I can't be crazy, right?'
Trying to recall the flute once again, Wuji succeeded. After doing it a few more times and scouring the deck and his clothes to make sure it was truly gone, he was convinced.
"It seems like the heavens heard my plea. But why didn't it hear the plea of my fellow brothers and those children?" Wuji struggled to accept that there was something special about him.
"Is it... the flute? It seems to be the cause, but where is it even from?" The flute was not the cause, just the conductor.
It was sheer luck and emotion. But the flute was still quite beautifully and skillfully crafted. It was a gift from his father to his mother.
She died during childbirth, and the bastard didn't even have the minimal backbone to raise the child by himself—he wanted to be free to remarry.
That's how Wuji was left at the temple. His white hair wasn't even inherited—it was a mutation.
But these were things Wuji would probably never come to know.
For now, he didn't care, though.
Whether it was him or the flute didn't matter. He received what seemed like a blessing, and he wouldn't die before uncovering what he could do with it.
Wuji had heard from the fishermen that one could use the stars for open sea sailing. But without any knowledge, Wuji simply couldn't follow his advice.
He didn't have a compass either—he had been truly just drifting with the waves and the wind all this time.
Thankfully, the boat was sturdy enough not to sink to the sea floor.
As he straggled along, Wuji saw what looked like... a gate?
It was still on the horizon, so Wuji thought he was seeing things.
But as he approached, he noticed the gate was on a small platform with people on it.
Wuji was definitely confused, and the people on the platform also stared at him weirdly.
They were young people and wore fancy robes, some with armor. There was also an elderly man who gave off a profound aura, one that Wuji had never felt before.
As he neared, though, the aura seemed to vanish into thin air, returning to normal.
The elder flew up to the boat to greet Wuji, which shocked and scared him to the deck floor.
'Wh- What? This old man can fly? Can martial artists do that? Am I that much of a country bumpkin?' Wuji had all kinds of thoughts towards what he just saw.
"You look quite lost, but you're at the Qi Gathering stage, even if barely. Why are you shocked like a mortal? Your soul looks fine to me, so it shouldn't be madness." The old man surmised the situation and looked at the flute in Wuji's hands, then asked.
"Do you know what that flute is?"
Wuji realized he hadn't stored the flute, 'What a blunder!' He could only say, "Well, it's a jade flute called Qingyu. Is there something I don't know?" The man seemed like he might understand the blessing he got. He also called him a mortal, so Wuji had a suspicion.
"Oh, boy. It seems like a miracle has happened to you, child. That explains why a 1st phase Qi Gathering stage is here in such a disheveled state. Let me guess, did something extraordinary happen that bound that flute to your soul?" The elder was quite clever, quickly coming up with the only plausible theory.
"How did you know? I also suddenly feel like I'm stronger. Is that what the 1st phase of Qi Gathering is? Could you explain, esteemed elder?" Wuji even turned a bit more respectful—not that he had been rude before.
"Yes, child. But where do I begin? Ah, first, let's solve that filthy smell on you." The elder snapped his fingers, and Wuji felt a comforting breeze take away the filth on his body.
But it also took away his clothes!
The elder threw him a robe and said, "Put it on. Don't worry. The disciples on the platform can't see you with me here, not even I can."
Wuji instantly got dressed. He didn't dare risk getting ogled by some scary women who could apparently fly.
It wasn't arrogance. He was simply a heavenly beauty.
There were many women that were less affected by it, but on average, it was a fact that he was like a delicacy to the other gender.
Wuji didn't mind, but sometimes it was a bit awkward.
The elder recognized this before the cleansing technique was applied, so he quickly turned Wuji invisible with a simple illusion trick while he changed.
"Now that you're presentable, come with me." The elder quickly scooped Wuji with his mysterious power and took him to the platform full of curious youngsters.