Chapter One: Once Upon a Time, There Was a Mountain Called Wuwang

Fengguo Province. Lingzhou. Wuwang Mountain.

The mountain air was tranquil and pure, with a small bamboo pavilion perched atop the peak. This was the main hall of the immortal sect known as Wuwang Mountain. From within came the boisterous voice of a young woman.

“Master, why make things so complicated? Just hand me the token of the mountain lord. Don’t worry, I’ll lead Wuwang Mountain to prosperity.”

Inside the bamboo pavilion, an elderly man with snow-white hair and beard looked at the girl before him and sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead.

This elder was the current mountain lord of Wuwang Mountain, Lu Yuan.

He ignored the girl’s words and instead turned to a young man standing beside her—his features sharp and poised.

“Gu Xian, this trip down the mountain is no ordinary matter. Take good care of Senior Sister Liu.”

“Rest assured, Master.”

The master handed each of them a space pouch. “Our mountain isn’t wealthy. Inside are some common immortal artifacts. Don’t disdain them.”

Senior Sister Liu snatched her pouch, grumbling, “Old man, what are you saying?”

Soon after, Gu Xian and Senior Sister Liu returned to their quarters to pack, preparing to set off.

Halfway up the mountain, a few scattered thatched cottages formed the humble residences of Wuwang Mountain’s disciples.

Gu Xian walked back to his own courtyard, his heart stirred with emotion.

Three years had passed since he transmigrated into this strange and wondrous world of cultivation. The thought brought a flicker of moisture to his eyes.

“Do you know how I’ve spent these three years? Finally, I can descend the mountain and live freely—no more suffering in this godforsaken place.”

He recalled vividly the day of his arrival, when his master first brought him to the mountain.

The kindly old man smiled warmly as he extolled the sect’s glorious history: tens of thousands of disciples, a founder who once cleaved the heavens with a single sword, vast lands spanning thousands of miles...

Gu Xian was stunned. Before transmigrating, he had been an adventure blogger with a deep yearning for cultivation. Naturally, he seized the chance and immediately became a disciple.

But when he reached Wuwang Mountain and saw the dilapidated thatched huts halfway up the slope, he rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

When he learned that his so-called master possessed only Qi Sea Realm cultivation, his world collapsed.

And after meeting Senior Sister Liu and the other unreliable sect members, he was utterly disheartened.

Frozen in shock, Gu Xian realized that Wuwang Mountain’s former glory was but a distant memory; now it had fallen to the lowest depths, barely maintaining a facade of prestige within Lingzhou.

His master, fearing Gu Xian would report him or flee, recounted the sect’s past splendors daily, repeatedly brainwashing him to believe that one day Wuwang Mountain would rise again.

Over time, Gu Xian stayed. The atmosphere atop the mountain was pleasant, and his master could impart some immortal techniques.

Luckily, shortly after joining, while wandering the back mountain, he discovered a beautifully engraved bronze mirror in a stream.

Named the Wuwang Immortal Mirror, it contained a small secluded realm rich in spiritual energy, where time flowed differently, allowing cultivation with twice the efficiency.

Within the mirror were various immortal techniques and rare treasures. By diligently developing the sect, he could earn Dao merit and exchange it for magical arts and divine abilities.

From then on, Gu Xian was full of drive.

He tirelessly chopped bamboo in the back mountain, building the “Main Hall” to improve the sect’s image, earning Dao merit.

He cultivated a spiritual field, planting and harvesting year-round to solve the sect’s food shortage, earning more Dao merit.

He spent nights drawing talismans to increase sect income, gaining even more Dao merit...

Through relentless effort, Gu Xian became one of the top cultivators in Wuwang Mountain.

Shaking his head, he took out the space pouch. With a thought, it floated before him. He pricked his palm, dripping blood into it.

Once his blood fully fused with the pouch, the item was successfully refined.

Peering inside, Gu Xian was pleasantly surprised—his stingy master had, for once, been generous, seemingly even risking his life savings.

A wooden sword hung at his waist as he packed all necessary items into the pouch, then set off down the mountain without looking back.

At the Wuwang Mountain gate, beneath a flourishing locust tree, stood a tall young woman with skin as smooth as porcelain, delicate brows and almond-shaped eyes, and an astonishingly ample bosom. Her face was a perfect oval, as refined and white as freshly fired porcelain.

She craned her neck to look up the mountain. Seeing Gu Xian, she waved at him with a broad grin, showing none of the usual ladylike reserve. This was Senior Sister Liu Suiyi.

Gu Xian quickened his pace to her side.

The girl complained, “Little Gu, why are you so slow? I’ve been waiting a long time.”

Gu Xian sighed, “Senior Sister Liu, you’re really eager to go down the mountain.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Obviously, you’re no different.”

With a lively expression, Liu took the lead down the mountain.

“Junior Brother Gu, hurry up and keep up. Don’t let the old man change his mind.”

Their mission on this descent was to complete the master’s assignment. The winner would become the next mountain lord of Wuwang Mountain.

Meanwhile, atop the mountain cliff, the white-haired old man watched the two disciples disappear into the distance, his eyes moist.

“They’ve finally left. After deceiving these kids for so long, I’ve managed to trick them into coming down.”

Lu Yuan’s expression was a mix of grief and anger. “Who knows how much resources these brats consume? If they stayed on the mountain, I really couldn’t support them anymore.”

Watching their retreating figures, the old man finally exhaled. His savings for the coffin could last a while longer.

Suddenly, a muffled voice sounded behind him.

“Master, I’ve returned.”

Lu Yuan stiffened at the familiar voice.

He slowly turned to see a tall, disheveled man standing behind him.

Quickly withdrawing his gaze, his head bobbed like a rattle.

“Huh? What’s going on? Am I hallucinating from excitement?”

He rubbed his eyes hard, his face full of surprise and disbelief.

The man quietly repeated, “Master, your disciple is back.”

Lu Yuan’s eyes bulged like copper bells. He held this posture for a full quarter of an hour before speaking in a sorrowful tone.

“Big oaf, didn’t you just descend the mountain not long ago? How have you returned so soon?”

The man replied solemnly, “Master, I couldn’t bear to leave you alone. After finishing the demon-slaying mission, I hurried back to take care of you.”

Lu Yuan grumbled, “Having you is truly my good fortune.”

Mistaking this as praise, the man scratched his head and smiled sheepishly.