First Entering the Immortal Realm

Ren Xiaoyao lay unconscious on the Gobi gravel for half an incense stick's time. The biting cold seeped into his bones through his meridians, as if countless ice worms were gnawing at his bones, alternating with the burning pain of the lingering demonic flames that ravaged his limbs and bones—the burns on his left arm were still tinged with blackish-red, and the slightest movement caused his muscles to twitch in pain. His dantian area felt as if it were being repeatedly crushed by both ice and fire, and even breathing was painfully difficult. He suddenly opened his eyes, a fleeting golden glint flashing in them. He clenched his teeth to keep from crying out in pain, and a shallow bloodstain was already visible on his lower lip from his bite.

A thin crack appeared in the dark clouds on the horizon, and faint sunlight, like scattered gold dust, fell upon his arm covered in black marks. The Demonic Runes that had been writhing wildly beneath his flesh froze as if encountering their nemesis, then curled up into tiny black threads like ice worms exposed to heat. The black light dimmed considerably, and some of the Demonic Runes even vanished into Void in the sunlight. Ren Xiaoyao's heart stirred, and he truly felt the unique nature of the Immortal Realm's aura—even though it was thin, it possessed a pure purifying power, instinctively suppressing demonic energy.

He slowly sat up, supporting himself against the sharp-edged Black Stone beside him. The edge of the stone cut his palm, drawing blood, but also clearing his Primordial Chaos consciousness somewhat. Looking down at his dantian, the Pure Yang Immortal Energy there was like a dying ember after a storm, only a faint warmth remaining. Each attempt to circulate it felt like forcibly pulling threads through ruptured meridians, a sharp pain shooting up his spine to the top of his head, causing the veins on his forehead to bulge. Cold sweat soaked the hair on his forehead, sticking to his skin with an icy chill, and he shivered at the slightest breeze.

"Immortals are as rare as phoenix feathers..." Ren Xiaoyao murmured softly, gazing at the boundless, Barren Gobi Desert before him. The scattered records he had previously gleaned from ancient texts of the Cave Heaven were now a tangible reality. The Spiritual Qi in the air was so thin it was almost Void; even a deep breath could only detect a faint trace of Spiritual Charm, far less than one ten-thousandth of the Cave Heaven's peak—in the Cave Heaven, Spiritual Qi was so abundant it could condense into mist, but here, Spiritual Qi was even scarcer than water in the Gobi Desert.

He helped himself to Black Stone feet, swaying slightly before regaining his balance. His gaze swept across the rolling, Gray-Brown Mountains range. In the shadows of the western mountains, a faint wisp of Spiritual Qi flickered, as weak as a candle in the wind, not even comparable to the aura of a Qi Refining cultivator. Clearly, it was just a low-level cultivator active there. "The most urgent thing is to find a place to hide and heal." Ren Xiaoyao gritted his teeth, his fingertips rapidly forming hand seals, completely withdrawing the Tai Chi Pattern in his palm into his dantian. Only a thin wisp of golden-white spiritual light remained, like a veil, wrapped around his dantian to protect the remaining Pure Yang Immortal Energy and prevent it from leaking out.

He then removed his Blood-Stained Robe —the robe still bore the lingering demonic aura of the Soul Chasing Talisman, and wearing it rashly would only reveal his presence. From a skeleton deep in the Gobi Desert, he found a faded coarse cloth robe. Though the fabric was rough, it was still intact and just enough to cover his wounds and Demonic Runes. Having done all this, he lightly touched the ground with his toes, using the low rocks and sand dunes as cover, and darted towards the direction of the wisp of Spiritual Qi. His figure was like a sand sparrow skimming across the Gobi Desert, light yet swift, each leap precisely avoiding conspicuous piles of rubble and open areas, even his footsteps were deliberately light, for fear of leaving a trace.

Three days later, Ren Xiaoyao finally arrived at the source of the Spiritual Qi fluctuations, where a sect called "Ten Directions Sect" appeared before him. This sect was perched on half a low mountain. The mountain was not high, only a little over a thousand feet high. The surface of the mountain was bare, with gray-brown rocks. Only a few steep slopes had some drought-resistant low shrubs growing on them, their leaves covered with a layer of dust, making them look No Life.

The Green Stone Archway at the mountain gate was quite old; thick dust had accumulated in the engravings of the two characters "Shi Fang," and there were even several chipped edges, revealing the grayish-white stone underneath, making it look particularly mottled. Only two disciples dressed in gray robes were on duty at the foot of the archway. They had simple wooden swords at their waists, the blades of which were even slightly bent. Their posture was loose, and they would occasionally rub their hands together and breathe on them—clearly, their cultivation level was too low to withstand the cold air of the mountains. The Spiritual Qi emanating from the two of them was chaotic and weak, indicating that they were only at the beginning of the Qi Refining stage. They had not even mastered the basic Inhale and Exhale techniques, and their aura was as weak as a candle flame in the wind.

Ren Xiaoyao stopped behind a low slope in the distance, circulating his inner energy to suppress his cultivation to the peak of the Foundation Establishment Realm —a level that wasn't weak in the Border Wasteland of the Immortal Realm, enough to make the Ten Directions Sect willing to accept him, yet not too conspicuous, avoiding unnecessary scrutiny. He straightened the hem of his coarse cloth robe, brushed off the dust from his body to ensure there was no trace of demonic energy remaining, and then slowly walked towards the mountain gate. His steps were steady, neither hasty nor timid, his eyes calm and unwavering, perfectly befitting the image of a Rogue Cultivator with some foundation but a destitute fate.

"Who goes there? Halt!" The two disciples on duty gripped their wooden swords tightly as someone approached. One of them, the slightly taller one, stepped forward, his voice tinged with a hint of awkwardness and wariness—his hands were even trembling slightly, suggesting that he rarely saw outsiders and was understandably nervous in front of a strange cultivator.

Ren Xiaoyao stopped, cupped his hands in a respectful bow, and deliberately lowered his voice to mimic the weariness of years of travel. "My name is Yun Xiao. I have been cultivating in the mountains since childhood with my master. A few years ago, my master passed away, leaving me to wander the world alone. Now, the Spiritual Qi in all places is depleted, and it is difficult to even find a cave to stay in. I happened to hear that the Ten Directions Sect is benevolent and willing to take in Rogue Cultivator, so I came here to seek refuge. I only ask for a place to stay where I can calmly regulate my breathing. If there are any miscellaneous matters, I am willing to serve the sect."

As he spoke, he subtly condensed a wisp of gentle Wood Attribute Spiritual Energy Spiritual Qi energy at his fingertips—the least likely to arouse suspicion. Like a spring breeze, it swept across the consciousness of the two disciples without leaving a trace. This was not an invasion of privacy, but simply a way to convey a "no ill intent" signal with gentle Spiritual Qi, thus dispelling their guard. Sure enough, upon feeling the warm Spiritual Qi, the two disciples visibly relaxed their tense shoulders, loosened their grip on the wooden swords, and their wariness lessened considerably.

The shorter disciple winked at the person beside him, then turned and ran quickly into the sect, shouting as he ran, "I'll go inform Steward Li! You keep an eye on things!" The other disciple remained where he was, still wary, but no longer as hostile as before. He tentatively asked, "Where do you come from, fellow Daoist? Do you have any proof of your Cultivation Methods? Such as a sect token or a Cultivation Method manual?"

Ren Xiaoyao answered patiently, his tone tinged with helplessness. "In my early years, I cultivated with my master in the Southern Ridge. My master was aloof and never issued any sect tokens. His Cultivation Method were mostly passed down orally, without any written proof. However, I do know a little about basic Inhale and Exhale and low-level talisman crafting. If the sect needs me, I can show off my skills at any time." As he spoke, his gaze calmly swept over the inside and outside of the mountain gate. He neither looked around to inquire nor deliberately avoided the other party's gaze, appearing open and natural, without the slightest hint of guilt.

A moment later, steady footsteps echoed from within the sect, and a middle-aged cultivator in an indigo robe strode out. This cultivator had a square face, a short, neatly trimmed beard, and his Spiritual Qi was refined and stable, without the slightest disorder—clearly Golden Core Stage cultivator! In this small sect on the Border Wasteland of the Immortal Realm, Golden Core Stage cultivators were already core figures capable of managing affairs, able to decide the fate of outer sect disciples.

He walked up to Ren Xiaoyao, his gaze scrutinizing him from head to toe, from his coarse cloth robe to his cloth shoes, even not missing the calluses on his fingertips, his expression clearly critical. "Your Excellency are at the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage, you could easily secure an inner disciple position even in a mid-tier sect. Why then do you choose to join a marginal sect like my Ten Directions Sect? Is there some ulterior motive?"

Ren Xiaoyao was prepared. Upon hearing this, a perfectly timed bitter smile appeared on his face, his eyes filled with a hint of desolation and helplessness. His tone also lowered slightly. "Fellow Daoist, you may not know this, but when I was cultivating in the Southern Ridge in my early years, I accidentally entered an Ancient Secret Realm. That Secret Realm was riddled with restrictions. Although I was lucky enough to survive, the cold and yin restrictions within the Secret Realm damaged my cultivation foundation. In recent years, my cultivation has been stuck at the peak of the Foundation Establishment, making it difficult to advance any further. Even the circulation of spiritual energy is more sluggish than that of ordinary people. Mid-tier sects value aptitude and potential; how could they accept a 'half-crippled' like me?"

He paused, his tone tinged with sincerity. "The Ten Directions Sect has a renowned reputation for Rogue Cultivator. I do not seek a high position, but only a peaceful place where I can quietly cultivate my foundation. If the sect needs me, whether it is refining low-level talismans, guarding the herb garden, or even teaching Qi Refining disciples Inhale and Exhale techniques, I am willing to do my utmost to assist and would never dare to slack off in the slightest."

As he spoke, he took out a neatly folded yellow paper talisman from his robes and handed it to the middle-aged cultivator. "This is a low-grade ' Stone Wall Talisman ' that I personally crafted. Although its grade is not high, it can withstand a full-force attack from a Qi Refining stage cultivator. If I encounter a low-grade Demon Beast attack while I am out, it can temporarily protect me. Consider this a small token of my sincerity in seeking refuge."

The middle-aged cultivator— Steward Li of the Ten Directions Sect —took the talisman and probed it with a wisp of spiritual energy. When the spiritual energy touched the talisman's Spiritual Charm, a pale yellowish-brown halo instantly appeared on its surface. Within the halo, the faint outlines of the characters "Rock Solid" could be seen, and the flowing runes carried a heavy defensive aura. He examined it twice, confirming that the talisman was genuine and effective, and that the crafting technique was skillful, without any unusual influence. His doubts lessened considerably.

The Ten Directions Sect is located in a remote area with scarce Spiritual Qi, and has very few high-level cultivators. The Outer Sect Elder number only two Foundation Establishment Middle Stage cultivators. Now, a peak Foundation Establishment Rogue Cultivator who can also refine talismans has arrived. If he can stay, he will undoubtedly be a great help to the sect and may even improve the survival skills of the outer sect disciples. He pondered for a moment and nodded, saying, "In that case, I will trouble you Your Excellency temporarily serve as an Outer Sect Elder and reside in the West Peak Seclusion Courtyard. The West Peak is secluded and quiet, with few disturbances, making it suitable for focused cultivation. If the sect encounters external enemies or needs to refine talismans, we will send someone to notify you in advance. I hope you will lend a helping hand Your Excellency and not refuse."

Ren Xiaoyao breathed a sigh of relief, but his face showed genuine gratitude. He bowed again and said, "Thank you for taking me in, Steward Li! I Yun Xiao, will certainly live up to the sect's expectations, do my duty, and not cause any trouble for the sect. If there is any need, I will do my best!"

And so, Ren Xiaoyao, under the name "Yun Xiao," became an Outer Sect Elder of the Ten Directions Sect. Steward Li sent a Qi Refining stage disciple to guide him to the West Peak. Along the way, Ren Xiaoyao deliberately slowed his pace, observing the sect's environment discreetly—most of the sect's buildings were stone and wooden houses, with traces of repair visible on the walls, and the disciples' robes were mostly worn, clearly indicating that the sect's resources were not abundant.

West Peak was indeed remote, far from the main peak and inner sect area of the sect's core. There was only one simple stone house on the entire peak. The walls of the stone house were made of bluestone slabs, with the gaps between the slabs filled with yellow mud. The roof was thatched, and some of the edges were rotten. Although it was not dilapidated, it exuded a simple and shabby feel. In front of the house was a small herb garden, surrounded by a rough wooden fence. Only a few low-level spiritual herbs such as "Qi Condensing Grass" and "Heart Calming Flower" were planted inside. The leaves were covered with dust, and some leaves were even yellowed, obviously because no one took care of them.

"Elder Yun, this is your residence. If you need anything, you can get it from the storeroom at the foot of the mountain." The disciple who led the way said respectfully, then bowed and withdrew, clearly showing awe for the "Foundation Establishment level.

In the days that followed, Ren Xiaoyao almost never left his room, completely "hiding" himself in the West Peak. During the day, he sat by the window of his stone house, using the daylight filtering through the cracks to practice his Tai Chi Cultivation Method cultivation technique. The golden-white spiritual light in his palms slowly seeped into his meridians like a gentle stream. Those meridians that had been scorched by demonic flames and frozen by cold air, nourished by the Yin and Yang Energy, were like parched earth receiving spring rain, gradually repairing the tiny cracks—the meridian walls that had originally been tinged with black aura gradually returned to a pale gold color, and the pain also lessened.

He would also use his fingertips to condense Spiritual Qi, compressing the thin spiritual Spiritual Qi in the air into spiritual liquid little by little, and dripping it into his dantian. Each drop of spiritual liquid entering his body would restore a portion of the Pure Yang Immortal Energy in his dantian, like adding fuel to a dying ember. The faint warmth gradually became more noticeable, no longer as weak as before.

As night fell Moonlight Essence bathed the mountain peaks, Ren Xiaoyao would walk to the bluestone beside the herb garden, using the cool moonlight to deduce his Cultivation Method. His fingertips traced afterimages, and the golden and white energies intertwined before him, forming complex runes that sometimes separated into two bands of light, like two playful serpents, and sometimes coalesced into the shape of Yin-Yang Fish, slowly rotating. He was attempting to fuse the Yin and Yang Energy with his Pure Yang Immortal Energy —his previous battle with the Soul Chasing Talisman had taught him that a single power was insufficient to contend with the forces of the Nine Ancestors of the Demon Realm; only by creating defensive and offensive methods more suited to his current level could he survive in times of crisis.

"In this Immortal Realm, strength is the foundation of survival. If I cannot break through to the Golden Core Stage as soon as possible, even if I can escape for a while, I will not be able to escape the pursuit of the Nine Ancestors of the Demon Realm." Whenever he was exhausted from his deductions, Ren Xiaoyao would look at the waning moon in the sky and silently recite this in his heart. The moonlight shone on his face, reflecting the determination in his eyes, and the spiritual light at his fingertips became even more refined.

Meanwhile, deep within the Demon Realm, the Nine Netherworld Palace presents a completely different, eerie scene. This palace is constructed of Obsidian, its walls smooth as a mirror, yet exuding a chilling aura. There are no candles inside, only Nether-Green Ghost Fire embedded in the walls, illuminating the entire hall as if it were a ghostly realm, with every inch of air seemingly carrying the stench of blood.

The Nine Ancestors of the Demon Realm sat atop a jet-black throne, supported by countless twisted bone staffs. The armrests were carved with grotesque Devil Creature heads, their eyes inlaid with scarlet Demonic Crystal that emitted an eerie glow. The Ninth Ancestor wore black robes embroidered with Demonic Runes, the hem trailing on the ground like flowing ink. Their faces were hidden in the shadows of the hood, only their scarlet eyes visible, staring intently below like predatory beasts. A wisp of pitch-black demonic energy coiled around their fingertips, twisting and contracting as if alive. Occasionally, a drop would fall, landing on the White Jade Stone on the ground, instantly corroding a Black Hole, from which wisps of black smoke rose, emitting a pungent, fishy stench.

Below the palace, a cultivator in a grey robe knelt with his head bowed, his forehead almost touching the ground, not daring to look directly at the figure on the throne. This cultivator's aura was indistinguishable from that of cultivators in the Immortal Realm, even carrying a touch of gentle wood-attribute Spiritual Charm. If he were in the Immortal Realm, he would certainly be mistaken for an ordinary Rogue Cultivator. However, upon closer inspection, one could discover a faint, almost imperceptible Demonic Intent hidden deep within his eyes—a trace of being forcibly suppressed by Demonic Qi Erosion over many years. He was none other than the spy planted in the Immortal Realm by the Nine Ancestors of the Demon Realm Immortal Realm, having infiltrated the realm for a century, posing as a herb-gathering cultivator operating in the Border Wasteland of the Immortal Realm, secretly gathering intelligence.

"Ren Xiaoyao's aura has appeared in the Border Wasteland of the Immortal Realm?" The Ninth Ancestor's voice was like the impact of ten thousand years of ice, carrying a chilling coldness. With each word, the temperature in the hall dropped a few degrees, and the Nether-Green Ghost Fire on the walls flickered, as if it too feared his majesty.

The gray-robed cultivator prostrated himself on the ground, his voice trembling uncontrollably, yet he dared not pause for a moment, speaking rapidly, "Reporting to Ninth Ancestor, three days ago, while patrolling near the Heaven's Gate, I detected a familiar primordial aura—an aura containing the fusion of Yin and Yang Energy and Pure Yang Immortal Energy, exactly the same as the traces left by Ren Xiaoyao in the Cave Heaven back then! Although the aura vanished in a flash, as if deliberately concealed, I followed the direction of its dissipation for hundreds of miles and discovered that it ultimately headed towards the Ten Directions Sect. It seems that Ren Xiaoyao, severely injured and unable to continue his escape, intended to hide in a mortal sect to heal."

"Hmph, a fish that slipped through the net, dares to live in the Immortal Realm?" The Ninth Ancestor sneered, his voice filled with killing intent. The demonic energy at his fingertips suddenly surged, swirling in the air like a black venomous snake, instantly filling most of the palace. The temperature of the entire palace instantly dropped to freezing point, a thick layer of White Frost condensed on the ground, and even the air seemed to be frozen, making a "crunching" sound.

"You've lurked in the Immortal Realm for a hundred years, enduring a hundred years of hardship, and playing the hypocrite for a hundred years. Now, it's time to put you to use." The Ninth Ancestor flicked his finger, and a jet-black demonic talisman flew from his fingertip, landing in front of the gray-robed cultivator like a shooting star. The Demonic Runes was covered with hideous Demonic Runes, within which flowed a jet-black liquid, and its surface was shrouded in a terrifying aura of the same origin as the previous Soul Chasing Talisman —it was a sub-talisman of the Soul Chasing Talisman, capable of sensing the mother talisman and accurately locking onto Ren Xiaoyao's location.

"This is a sub-talisman of the Soul Chasing Talisman, capable of sensing Ren Xiaoyao's Yin and Yang Energy energies. Even if he conceals his cultivation, changes his identity, or uses Law Treasure to mask his aura, there is absolutely no way he can escape." The Ninth Ancestor's voice carried an undeniable authority, like the pronouncement of Death God. "Once you find him, do not alarm the Ten Directions Sect, lest complications arise. Directly use the sub-talisman to activate the Soul-Chasing power, seize his soul, and bring it back to me. If you dare to fail..."

He didn't continue speaking, but the sudden surge of killing intent in the hall pressed down on the gray-robed cultivator as if it were a physical force, making him feel cold all over, as if he had fallen into an ice cellar. His forehead was instantly covered with cold sweat, and even his teeth began to chatter slightly.

The gray-robed cultivator hurriedly picked up the demonic talisman with both hands. The talisman was icy cold to the touch, like holding a block of ice. Demonic energy surged wildly into his body through his fingertips, but he forcefully suppressed it. He kowtowed heavily, his forehead striking the cold ground with a dull thud, even drawing blood. "Your subordinate obeys! I will not fail in my mission, to retrieve Ren Xiaoyao's soul and present it to the Ninth Ancestor! If there is the slightest mistake, I am willing to accept the punishment of my soul being scattered, without a word!"

As soon as he finished speaking, his figure blurred, transforming into a streak of gray light. Like a ghost, he passed through the Border Wasteland of the Immortal Realm gates and disappeared into the dark night sky of the Demon Realm without pausing. He sped off towards the edge of the immortal realm—his speed was extremely fast. The Demonic Plants and low-level Devil Creature along the way sensed the Demonic Intent emanating from him and cowered in fear, not daring to even breathe loudly, trembling behind him.

At the same time, in the meditation hall of the West Peak of the Ten Directions Sect West Peak, Ren Xiaoyao was sitting by the window, circulating his Cultivation Method. The Tai Chi Pattern in his palm slowly rotated, and the golden and white energies flowed through his meridians like streams, repairing the last few minor cracks. The Pure Yang Immortal Energy in his dantian had recovered to 60%. Although it was still somewhat sluggish when circulating, it was enough to support the casting of basic spells.

Just then, his heart skipped a beat, as if he had been pricked by a needle, and a strong sense of crisis instantly enveloped his entire body. The Tai Chi Pattern in his palm began to tremble violently and uncontrollably, and the golden-white spiritual light instantly became chaotic. Some of the spiritual light even collapsed and dissipated into tiny specks of light in the air.

"Hmm?" Ren Xiaoyao suddenly opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing in them like a drawn sword. His gaze, like that of a hawk, swept towards the forest outside the courtyard—it was a feeling of being spied on, as if a pair of cold, greedy eyes were peering through the layers of branches and rocks, locking onto his aura. That aura carried a strong malice and a familiar demonic energy, like a persistent, inescapable affliction.

He instinctively held his breath, the golden light at his fingertips abruptly receding. He quietly took a half-step back, hiding in the shadows of the window frame, his eyes warily scanning the movements outside the courtyard. The mountain forest was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves in the wind and the occasional sound of disciples practicing from the distant main peak. Everything seemed peaceful, yet a chilling danger lurked beneath the surface—the probing gaze hadn't disappeared; instead, like a venomous snake, it seeped into the stone house little by little through the cracks in the windows and doors, carrying undisguised killing intent.

"The Demon Realm have finally come." Ren Xiaoyao clenched his fist, his fingertips turning white from the force, and the remaining golden-white spiritual light in his palm flickered faintly. "Although the Ten Directions Sect is small, it is only a temporary sanctuary. If we fight here, not only will we expose ' Yun Xiao's ' identity, but we will also implicate these innocent disciples in the sect... It seems that these peaceful days really won't last much longer."