I have Immortality In The Cultivation World

“Greetings, Ancestral Master!”

Upon recognizing the old Daoist’s face, Yang Jin hastily bowed in respect.

In the midst of the celebration, as Zhou Yi nostalgically recounted hardships and sweet memories, not a single disciple lacked a sense of gratitude. Hearing that the old ancestor’s lifespan was nearing its end elicited a sense of melancholic pity for the twilight years of a hero, invoking an involuntary sympathy and closeness.

With just a few casually uttered sentences, Zhou Yi’s reputation within the sect surpassed that of Tong Xuan’s after more than a decade of efforts, second only to Xuan Yu.

Tong Xuan was not a fool either. After carefully considering events before and after the celebration, he realized that this seldom-seen patriarch could not be swayed by flattery, and he immediately ceased all further schemes.

A mere few decades were left, best spent quietly waiting for the Ancestral Master to pass away and for his Dao to vanish, using this time to diligently cultivate and elevate his mana.

In the Cultivation World, strength is the true foundation of power!

Zhou Yi appreciated smart people. Seeing Tong Xuan heeding the warning, he contentedly decided to spend his twilight years in the Scripture Storage Hall.

Upon hearing the voice, Zhou Yi opened his groggy, drunken eyes and swept his Divine Sense over Yang Jin, inside and out, immediately understanding why he had come to the Scripture Pavilion.

A loosening in the bottleneck during the mid to late Qi Refinement phase surely meant drawing upon the experiences of the predecessors.

“There’s no need for such formalities.”

Zhou Yi said, “On the first floor, shelf seven, you’ll find ‘Notes of Monk Kong Yun’, which contains detailed records of the breakthrough method. His comprehension is remarkable, and what he has written is even more profound than the texts on the second floor.”

The Mysterious Primordial Sect’s Scripture Pavilion was fully open to the public, allowing any disciple to recite the scriptures. This was much less restrictive compared to larger sects.

Of course, while the scriptures and common cultivation techniques were open, the sect-defending inheritance still required one to become a True Disciple.

Yang Jin bowed and said, “Thank you for your guidance, Ancestral Master.”

A moment later.

Yang Jin had recorded the content of the notes onto a jade slip and planned to return to his cave dwelling to ponder them. Eager to break through the mid-stage of Qi Refinement, he would surely achieve a good ranking in the sect’s grand competition five years hence. He bowed again before leaving.

“Ancestral Master, my mana is weak, and I can’t be of much help, but if there is any menial work to be done, I can do it on your behalf.”

Zhou Yi nodded slightly, knowing that seizing the opportunity was good enough, but it still had to be to his liking: “In my youth, I enjoyed reading storytelling books. It’s been many years since I last went down the mountain, and I don’t know if there are any new stories.”

“I will descend the mountain immediately to buy storytelling books for the Ancestral Master,” said Yang Jin.

Joy appeared on Yang Jin’s face, knowing that conversing with the Ancestral Master would greatly assist his path of cultivation.

Half a month later.

He came to the Scripture Pavilion again, taking out a large stack of books from his storage bag.

“Ancestral Master, after asking many people, these are the most entertaining storytelling books from the past hundred years,” he said.

Zhou Yi glanced at the covers, his eyes lighting up. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a scroll of scripture.

“You are quite exceptional, lad! Take this ‘Treatise on Cultivating Vital Energy to Nurture the Form’ and read it. Return it after one month and remember to write a hundred thousand-word reflection.”

“A reflection?”

Yang Jin bowed and accepted the scripture, flipping through a few pages before showing a look of disappointment.

The ‘Treatise on Cultivating Vital Energy to Nurture the Form’ was a purely scholarly ancient text that spoke of the ways to nourish the spiritual soul. It did not record any soul-refining techniques and was only about twelve hundred characters long.

Zhou Yi raised an eyebrow: “If you don’t want to read it, you can return it to me.”

Yang Jin shook his head repeatedly, holding the text close: “Rest assured, Ancestral Master, I will certainly write the full hundred thousand words.”

“Focus on cultivating the Dao before cultivating immortality, recite the scriptures before practicing the cultivation technique.”

Zhou Yi said, “You, lad, possess ordinary talent and mediocre comprehension. If you wish to enhance your fundamental grounding, this is the only path for you; otherwise, you will at most stop at Foundation Establishment.”

Zhou Yi looked at Yang Jin the way the Iron Crown Immortal had looked at Zhou Yi long ago, with an insightful perspective that could directly illuminate the path ahead.

Whether Yang Jin would listen or persist unwaveringly depended entirely on his personal destiny.

After all, Yang Jin did not possess the Longevity Dao Fruit. Even if he knew reciting scriptures could increase his foundation, with his peers breaking through one after another and only he left slowly reciting, ninety-nine percent of people would choose to give up.

“Rest assured, Ancestral Master. I will not fail your expectations!”

In the blink of an eye, a month had passed.

Yang Jin arrived outside the Scripture Storage Hall, holding a thick stack of paper filled with his insights.

“Ancestral Master, I have completed this month’s task,” he announced.

“Hmm.”

Zhou Yi’s Divine Sense swept over the reflection, which contained thirty thousand words of filler, but considering that Yang Jin had persevered for ten years was already beyond expectation.

Ten years of reciting scriptures had delayed his cultivation of mana, and only now had he broken through to the seventh level of Qi Refinement.

At thirty years old, achieving the seventh level of Qi Refinement was slower than Xuan Li’s progress back then and placed him at the very bottom among the disciples of the Mysterious Primordial Sect.

“If you can’t finish, you may extend the deadline by a few days; there’s no need to pad your work,” Zhou Yi reminded him, taking out another text as usual, “Here is ‘Annotations on Returning True Energy to the Origin’. The same rule applies.”

Yang Jin’s face reddened as he took the text and hurried away.

After dragging his feet for a month and a half.

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