Master, it is time to enter the Ten Thousand Soul Banner.

Master, it is time to enter the Ten Thousand Soul Banner.

The night was as dark as ink. Inside a lonely temple on a desolate mountain, candlelight flickered, casting the shadows of an old man and a young boy.

The disheveled old man looked at the young beggar before him, his breath shallow and weak. "My time is near. You must walk the path ahead alone. Awakening is merely the starting point of cultivation; the road to shedding mortality and becoming an immortal is fraught with thorns. Never be arrogant, never be reckless or impulsive, and never be soft-hearted..."

A dozen "nevers" in a row made Chen Ye's head ache.

He thought to himself that this cultivator was having a rather difficult time dying. He had been rambling for half a day without a break; he didn't look like he was about to pass away at all.

But after careful consideration, Chen Ye felt that his master was indeed going to die.

His master, Mo Ci, was a Devilish Cultivator. He was usually cold and heartless, often saying, "If I hadn't performed too many soul possessions, causing my spirit to wither, I would have long since seized your body."

Devilish Cultivators didn't care much for the bonds between master and disciple.

Mo Ci often lectured him that for the sake of cultivation, one could abandon parents, wives, and children, let alone a master-disciple relationship.

He usually spoke with such cruelty, so his current repeated warnings were likely the kind words of a dying man.

Chen Ye was a child Mo Ci had picked up.

They had only been together for a few months, but looking at Chen Ye's face, Mo Ci recalled the scene when he first took him on as a disciple.

Upon hearing that he was a Devilish Cultivator, the first thing the boy said was: "Master, can you teach me how to refine a Ten Thousand Soul... Human Emperor Banner?"

At the time, Mo Ci thought that although the boy was aiming too high, he was truly a natural seed for the devilish path—the first thing out of his mouth was refining human souls.

Mo Ci took Chen Ye as his disciple and began teaching him the path.

He had expected to hold on for a few more years, at least until the boy condensed his sea of qi, but he hadn't expected today to be his end.

Mo Ci didn't have many regrets. After all, every Devilish Cultivator had a past they couldn't bear to look back on. If they had a choice, who would abandon the glorious path of the righteous to become a devilish cultivator hiding in the gutter?

Since there was no choice, there was nothing to regret.

Mo Ci reached out and patted Chen Ye on the shoulder.

"Disciple, there isn't much more I can say, and I have nothing of value to leave you. There is no need to wait for this old man to breathe his last. The immortal path is long; from today on, walk it yourself."

Chen Ye kowtowed to his master, slowly stood up, and took a white banner out of his storage bag.

"Master, look, what is this?"

Chen Ye's words caused Mo Ci, who had already closed his eyes, to reopen his murky orbs. Upon seeing the incantations on the white banner, he was stunned, then burst into laughter: "A Ten Thousand Soul Banner? You truly are a disciple of the devilish sect. I'm not even dead yet, and you're already trying to harvest my soul with this thing?"

Mo Ci never expected that at this final moment, Chen Ye would produce such an item.

He hadn't misjudged him after all; this was a natural-born devil.

However, he immediately sneered: "Fool! My cultivation is three realms higher than yours. Even if I am dying, how could I be schemed against by a novice like you? Look at this banner—the materials are crude, the incantations are incomplete. You think you can refine a Ten Thousand Soul Banner with just that? Such overestimation of your own ability; you won't survive ten years..."

The more Mo Ci spoke, the more agitated he became, almost unable to resist slapping his death-seeking disciple to death.

The devilish sect could be heartless, but one shouldn't be so blind as to not see the gap in power.

However, Chen Ye waved his hand to stop his master's "last words," saying with a righteous tone: "Master, this Ten Thousand Soul Banner is indeed made of inferior materials, and the incantations are incomplete. It only has the minor function of gathering and nourishing souls, with no restrictions or control mechanisms. It might even break if dropped."

"It is precisely because of this that I was able to scrape it together. To put it bluntly, this is just a vessel for a ghost to inhabit, but at least it can keep your soul from dissipating. This is all I can do. Whether you enter this banner or not is up to you."

Mo Ci paused for a moment, asking suspiciously: "You did this just to preserve my soul?"

Chen Ye nodded and said: "That's right. I don't have much skill, but this banner cost me a lot of effort. Master, I know it's not easy being a wandering ghost; if you're not careful, you'll be captured and enslaved or tortured day and night. But as long as your soul doesn't scatter, there is still a glimmer of hope. Who knows, perhaps when I attain the Dao and become an immortal in the future, I can reshape a body for you?"

Mo Ci scolded: "You are so long-winded; where is the ruthlessness of a devilish disciple? Furthermore, if people find out you have a Ten Thousand Soul Banner containing the main soul of a Profound Realm expert, can you even keep it? You are just asking for trouble..."

Chen Ye said impatiently: "Master, just tell me, are you going into the banner or not?"

Mo Ci was silent for a long time, finally sighing: "Fine."

Seven wisps of green smoke drifted from Mo Ci's orifices, transforming into an illusory figure that floated toward the Ten Thousand Soul Banner.

Chen Ye gave a soft shout: "Receive!" The white banner flickered, drawing the soul inside.

In an instant, the incantations on the banner glowed, forming the shape of a ghostly face.

Mo Ci's surprised voice came from within the banner: "This magical treasure is extraordinary. How can its soul-nourishing effect be so good?"

Having performed multiple possessions to extend his life, Mo Ci's soul was already incredibly weak. If he had died naturally, a gust of wind would have scattered him.

He had expected Chen Ye's cobbled-together banner to barely keep his soul from dissipating, but upon entering, he discovered that the banner actually had the effect of gathering yin energy to nourish the soul.

Mo Ci figured that if he had used the same materials, he would never have achieved such a result.

Chen Ye smiled proudly: "The Ten Thousand Soul Banner is a vessel for gathering yin, inseparable from the four yin trigrams of Kun, Xun, Li, and Dui. One must combine the numbers and understand their intricate patterns. The soul has form but no substance; as they say, existence and non-existence generate each other, difficulty and ease complement each other. Based on this, I improved the refining method, removed many useless and complex procedures, and refined the incantations..."

Mo Ci finally understood how Chen Ye felt just a moment ago; his soul, having just left his body, was almost scattered by Chen Ye's lecture. These things seemed to be described in books he had read, but why did they sound so profound coming from Chen Ye's mouth?

Mo Ci was shocked to find that when it came to refining treasures, he couldn't keep up with Chen Ye's thinking at all.

Could this kid really be a genius?

Although Mo Ci's cultivation was much higher than Chen Ye's, that was merely the result of years of accumulated mana. He knew deep down that his own talent was mediocre.

His cultivation methods, treasure refining techniques, and various spells were all by the book; he practiced exactly as others did.

Occasionally, he would obtain fragments of ancient texts, but Mo Ci could only grasp the general idea with a superficial understanding; his comprehension was quite average.

Yet, those experts of the righteous path and the lords of the devilish sect—weren't they all people who innovated from ancient methods, realized their own unique paths of cultivation, and thus earned the right to knock on the gates of immortality?

With aptitude like that of Mo Ci, there was no hope of ever attaining immortality in this lifetime.

Yet, among those with mediocre talent, who is truly willing to admit defeat?

Mo Ci was this way, and all cultivators in the world were the same; they would only accept their fate when their lifespan was nearing its end.

Watching Chen Ye, whose eyes were shining as he talked incessantly, Mo Ci could not help but feel a glimmer of hope.

Perhaps this kid really could attain immortality?

Mo Ci felt a complex mix of emotions; he worried that Chen Ye lacked the ruthlessness to go far on the path of cultivation, yet he was also grateful that his disciple was kind and loyal, which gave him a sliver of a chance at survival.

"Sigh..."

Mo Ci let out a sigh, intending to instruct Chen Ye a few more times—that being soft-hearted toward himself was one thing, but he must never be so toward others in the future.

But before Mo Ci could speak, he saw Chen Ye take another pile of talisman paper from his storage bag and plaster it onto his corpse.

Mo Ci asked in surprise, "Disciple, what are you doing?"

Chen Ye replied, "Refining your corpse into a zombie, Master. Although you didn't practice body cultivation and refining you into a zombie will only result in a cheap product, it's better than nothing. We can't let it go to waste, right?"

Mo Ci: ...

This child will surely achieve great things!

In my previous book, I wrote about an old man who had transmigrated hundreds of years ago and was full of decay; in this one, I am writing about a protagonist who has just transmigrated and still possesses the sharp spirit of youth. Not only must his fists be powerful, but he must also stand firmly on the moral high ground. Please add to your library and show your support; I am extremely grateful.