[After the writing on the mural had been ground away, you slowly withdrew your gaze.]
[You did not think Purple Bamboo had done anything wrong. The law was not passed to six ears, nor was the Dao lightly bestowed. These were unwritten rules of the cultivation world.]
[Among the Righteous Nine Sects of Yu Province in the Central Lands, this was not yet so obvious. But across the impoverished Southern Border and the islands overseas, the methods of choosing disciples were far less gentle.]
[True Daoist teachings were never sold cheaply. Even those with the aptitude to cultivate had to kneel three times, kowtow nine times, and pass trial after trial before they had any hope of entering a Daoist sect.]
[Among the Southern Border natives under the Demon Sect, countless people spent their entire lives regarded as nothing more than "consumables."]
[In mortal bodies, they climbed thousand-foot snow peaks. Even if fortune carried them to the summit, most ended up as servants to Demon Sect disciples.]
[And still, the Southern Border natives pressed forward, one after another. More than a thousand cold-iron chains hung from Muran Snow Mountain, home of the All Living Demon Sect. At almost every moment, someone was struggling upward along them.]
[Those who sought the Dao wanted to change themselves and escape the mire. Even for a sliver of hope, they would throw themselves forward like moths into flame.]
[A mayfly trying to shake a great tree was pitiable, yet worthy of respect.]
[For cultivators, a lifetime's pursuit came down to two words: "ascension."]
[Among this world's Righteous Nine Sects, Demon Sect Seven Schools, and Unorthodox Nine Schools, how many prodigies spent their entire lives chasing the illusory promise of "ascension"? How were they any different from those Southern Border natives facing the thousand chains