The Legendary True Immortal Senior

Of course, such a thought was merely a joke; in truth, deep down, Lin Xiaoyao was quite touched.

Don't let his low profile fool you—over the years, he had helped the Feathering Sect quite a bit, acting almost like a perfect mastermind behind the scenes.

Yet, on the surface, he remained a complete nobody.

He lived a life free from worldly strife and entanglements, but by the same token, he was also very easy to overlook.

What Lin Xiaoyao hadn't expected was that, at a time like this, the sect had not forgotten him.

The Sect Master had issued a decree: all disciples below the Golden Core stage were to be divided into batches and could go to the pear grove to meditate at different times.

He had assumed that as a nobody at the Founder's Shrine, he would certainly be forgotten, yet he hadn't expected to be notified as well.

"Once you ascend this mountain, you are a disciple of this sect. Though your future paths and achievements will differ, you are all cultivators of the Feathering Sect, and the sect is proud of you."

Lin Xiaoyao recalled the oath the deacon uncle had spoken to the group of youths when they arrived ten years ago. He hadn't thought much of it at the time.

Now, however, he felt a greater sense of belonging to the sect.

So... staying hidden here really was the most correct choice.

It felt like the warmth of home.

Lin Xiaoyao became even more determined: he would not reveal himself until he possessed a cultivation level truly worthy of a Saint.

He chuckled foolishly; this touch of emotion served as a perfect excuse for him to keep hiding in the Feathering Sect.

It was just like in his past life, when he didn't want to get out of bed in the morning because it was warm—the logic was exactly the same.

"Senior Brother Lin, what are you laughing at? Are you that happy?"

The disciple who came to deliver the message was a youth of seventeen or eighteen. He had joined the sect later than Lin Xiaoyao, so the two were of the same generation.

"It's nothing."

Lin Xiaoyao certainly couldn't tell him what he was actually thinking.

"Then let's hurry. There are too many disciples going to meditate in the pear grove, so the time allotted to each batch is very tight. If we go late and are delayed, it won't be worth it."

What could Lin Xiaoyao say?

Should he tell him that the "miracle" they were all worshiping was actually just a casual remark he had made?

Let alone making the pear trees bloom, even in the dead of winter, making all the fruit trees on the mountain hang heavy with ripe fruit would be effortless for him.

Lin Xiaoyao certainly wouldn't be that foolish.

He didn't want to be the center of attention.

Isn't it wonderful to be a nobody while acting as a mastermind behind the scenes?

Even if one wants to show off, one must not fall into clichés; one must show off in a way that is completely invisible.

So, Lin Xiaoyao said nothing and followed the disciple toward the pear grove.

Along the way, he met many fellow cultivators.

By now, the news had already spread.

Every cultivator in the Feathering Sect was bowing and worshiping that mysterious immortal.

That's right—everyone believed that the one capable of creating such a miracle must be a true immortal.

Perhaps it was even a founding ancestor of the sect descending to earth to bestow blessings upon their descendants; otherwise, how could such a good thing happen to fall upon their sect?

This left the disciples incredibly excited.

Throughout the journey, praises and expressions of worship were endless.

As a transmigrator, Lin Xiaoyao felt his skin was thick enough, but he still found himself feeling a bit embarrassed.

There was no helping it; he was being praised by thousands.

That statement was no exaggeration.

If it were just a bunch of old men, it would be one thing, but the key was that as he walked, the various fairies of the sect were also singing his praises.

Their eyes were sparkling with adoration!

A true immortal—that was a legendary figure.

Although such beings had appeared in the sect's history, it had been far too long ago. This was the first time everyone had felt it for themselves, which was why the appearance of this miracle had sent the entire Feathering Sect into a frenzy.

Everything he heard along the way was filled with flowery praise.

Many even stated directly that if they could see that true immortal just once, they would be content to die that very evening.

Lin Xiaoyao: "..."

Lin Xiaoyao was speechless. I'm right next to you guys.

It was just that he couldn't say it.

But this feeling of being a mastermind behind the scenes was truly not bad.

In the ten years since he had come up the mountain, he had always felt that, as described in novels, cultivators were supposed to be indifferent to worldly desires, and that nothing could move them except for their pursuit of cultivation.

But Lin Xiaoyao now knew he was wrong.

Wrong, and outrageously so.

It was not that nothing could move them; it was simply that such things were extremely rare.

What cultivators worshipped was not wealth or power.

It was the strong.

Just like now, the enthusiasm displayed by the disciples of his sect was in no way inferior to the fans of his past life meeting their favorite celebrities.

Although he felt a bit embarrassed by everyone's praise and their gazes and words of worship, he had to admit that Lin Xiaoyao felt quite pleased deep down.

Convenience for others is convenience for oneself; this "Word of Power" was truly useful. A casual sentence had actually earned him so much favor.

Lin Xiaoyao was satisfied.

He then finally arrived at the pear grove and, along with the others, began to practice in a showy, pretentious manner.

"Senior Brother, this month, the number of disciples in our sect who successfully reached the Foundation Establishment stage is more than five times higher than in previous years."

An elder in brown robes wearing a square cap reported to the sect leader, Master Green Feather, his eyes filled with joy.

"Oh, that many?"

Although he knew that the fragrance emitted by the pear blossoms was of great benefit to the cultivation of low-level cultivators, and even to Foundation Establishment, the fact that the number of disciples who successfully reached Foundation Establishment this year exceeded five times the usual amount still left Master Green Feather both surprised and delighted.

This was simply incredible.

It far exceeded his initial expectations.

"That's not all. The cultivation of the other disciples has also made great progress. The speed at which those juniors are advancing has reached a level that is simply unimaginable."

The brown-robed elder continued to share news that made one beam with joy.

Yet, he then sighed. "It is a pity."

"What is there to pity?"

Master Green Feather turned his head.

"The blooming period of the pear blossoms is only a little over a month, and we delayed for some time at the beginning, so the actual time the disciples had to practice was quite limited..."

The brown-robed elder lamented, regretting the overly cautious decision they had made at the start.

Otherwise, if they could have utilized those two wasted weeks, the achievements of the disciples would not have been limited to this.

Hearing his junior brother's words, Master Green Feather couldn't help but chuckle.

"The Way of Heaven diminishes the excessive to supplement the deficient; Junior Brother, you are becoming attached to appearances."

The brown-robed elder was stunned. Was he being told he was too greedy?

That was true.

But he still felt somewhat annoyed.

He sighed again, saying that although the fragrance of the pear blossoms had greatly benefited the young disciples of the sect, the trees had failed to bear any fruit once the blooming period ended.

This left everyone, who had been full of anticipation, feeling extremely regretful.

It wasn't just him; at this moment, upon learning that the pear blossoms had withered without bearing fruit, the cultivators of the Feathering Sect—who had been full of expectation and constantly discussing how, if the fragrance of the flowers alone was so remarkable, the fruit would surely have incredible effects—were wailing in disappointment.

In the Founder's Shrine, Lin Xiaoyao was still quietly sweeping the floor.

This was a topic everyone in the sect was passionate about now; how could he not know?

He chuckled softly to himself: "The reason they didn't bear fruit is because, back then, to fulfill the wishes of those two siblings, I only said two words: 'Bloom, flowers.'"

"I didn't command the pear trees to bear fruit, and that is all there is to it."

The so-called "Word of Power" naturally could not be discounted in the slightest.

Whatever I desire, even if it defies the laws of nature, this world must obediently comply.

That was why, in the middle of deep winter, a single command of "Bloom, flowers" allowed the pear trees to sprout tender buds and burst into full, vibrant blossoms.

But since I didn't say "bear fruit," the trees naturally dared not take a single step further.

This was the true effect of the Word of Power.