Chapter 3:
Sect
MOUNT YANHUO lay in the extreme south, far removed from both the orthodox sects and the unorthodox cultivators’ strongholds. In his previous body, it had taken Mo Tianliao nearly two weeks fleeing on his flying ship—a superior-grade spiritual artifact—to reach this remote corner.
Scratching his head, Mo Tianliao turned and went up the mountain to dig up a few century-old fire ginsengs.
Mount Yanhuo had rather unique terrain, abundant with rare materials and spiritual herbs. Over the years, Mo Tianliao had familiarized himself with these treasures’ locations. He lacked a suitable inventory device to preserve the spiritual energy of these valuable items, though, and he didn’t have the power to protect them from being looted, either, so he settled for harvesting some low-grade fire ginseng that could be sold to the general masses.
After a few days of walking, he finally left Mount Yanhuo behind and came to a small mortal town at the foot of the mountain. It was a bustling town, with a constant stream of merchants trading medicinal herbs.
Mo Tianliao found a medicinal herb shop and sold the fire ginsengs for a few hundred taels of silver. He tossed the money into his bracelet, then went off in search of a tavern for a meal and to find out the current date.
“Waiter, I’ve been gathering herbs in the mountains for months. Is it the new year yet?” Mo Tianliao smiled at the waiter serving his food.
“Oh dear, you must have lost track of time. It’s already the beginning of the third month.” The waiter grinned back at him. “It’s now the 8,371st year of the Taixuan calendar.”
“Is that so…” Mo Tianliao nodded and picked up his chopsticks to take a bite of his food. When he died, it had been the 8,024th year. Had it really been over three hundred years?
“Hey, have you heard? The cultivation sects are recruiting disciples!” A loud conversation from the table beside him snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Really?! I should give it a try!” someone replied.
“You? You’re almost thirty—who’d want you?” His friend laughed in his face. “They only accept young people under sixteen with elemental attributes, so unless you have extraordinary aptitude…”
Mo Tianliao finished his meal and left the tavern to see a crowd hurrying toward the town center, chatting excitedly about the cultivators. He followed them and, from a distance, spotted several haughty-looking young cultivators standing in the middle of the crowd. They were all wearing the same azure cultivator robes: undoubtedly all members of the Qingyun Sect. He frowned despite himself. Demonic cultivators mainly resided in the south, and this town was closer to their domains than the orthodox sects. Why would these orthodox sects come all the way here to recruit disciples?
“We have first dibs on this young man!” A young woman in a light blue wide-sleeved dress spoke up from behind him in a sweet voice. She strode over, followed by several men in blue cultivator robes.
This was getting interesting. Of all the orthodox sects in the world, the strongest were the Three Great Clouds Sects: Qingyun Sect, Liuyun Sect, and Woyun Sect, also known as Azure Clouds, Drifting Clouds, and Bountiful Clouds. People from both Qingyun Sect and Liuyun Sect had appeared in this town, both interested in the same young man with promising aptitude.
The Qingyun disciple in the lead held his junior back from arguing with her. “Excuse me, we were here first, and we have already met his parents. They have given their consent for him to join our Qingyun Sect. What do you mean you have first dibs?”
“I set my eyes on him yesterday!” the young woman replied, holding her chin high.
Mo Tianliao raised an eyebrow, anticipating a fight. He wasn’t all that fond of these two sects; they were among those who’d hunted him down before. In Mo Tianliao’s opinion, Qingyun Sect was a pack of hypocrites, while Liuyun Sect was a gang of petty lowlifes.
“I see. In that case, did you leave him a token as proof—” But the young man from Qingyun Sect suddenly paused and looked up at the crowd.
“What’s wrong?” asked the junior disciple behind him.
The young man shook his head. “Perhaps I was mistaken.” The spiritual attribute-detecting magical artifact in his hand had buzzed, but when he tried to identify the source, it went still.
Mo Tianliao slipped away from the crowd and quickly made his escape. He had no intention of ever joining these two sects. When he’d sensed the detector earlier, his hair had stood on end, and he’d instinctively suppressed his aura. Surprisingly enough, the magical artifact had stopped moving. This body made from the divine tree was very handy.
Although he’d been a demonic cultivator in his previous life, he didn’t plan on returning to that path right now. Among the demonic cultivators, might made right; for a small fry like he was now, the early stages would be pretty rough. The orthodox sects that were all about face and decorum were more appealing. At least food and lodging were provided, and the master wouldn’t beat or scold their disciples for no reason.
More importantly… Mo Tianliao held up a mirror he’d bought from a stall and sighed. The wood he’d possessed had naturally taken on the form of his divine sense. Before, he’d had the dual attributes of earth and fire, which were excellent for crafting weapons and artifacts but only average for cultivation. Consequently, it had taken him until he was twenty-seven or twenty-eight to establish his foundation, and his appearance had remained frozen at that age. In his new body, he looked about twenty again…but his face was still unmistakably recognizable.
Few in the cultivation world had ever seen him. Most of those who had perished in the Annihilation Valley. But all the same, there was still a chance that someone might recognize him. The notoriously mysterious Woyun Sect was his best option.