It was a quiet morning on the mountain, and the sun had barely risen.

The weather remained slightly chilly and pleasant, a remnant from the night before, slowly warming under the gentle light of dawn.

Despite the early hour, a large crowd was already up, filling much of the main square of Black Rock Mountain.

People were chatting among themselves, and the noise pollution from so many voices wasn’t small — especially for such a serene morning, in a world so often filled with silence and the calm of isolation.

This could only mean one thing — a major event had arrived, one of great importance to the entire city.

“It’s today! Finally! I can’t believe I’m getting a third chance after missing the last two! Seems the heavens aren’t blind after all,” said a short young man with an excited grin and a hint of arrogance in his tone.

Beside him, a handsome young man, beardless and dressed in dark blue robes, watched him helplessly.

“Is your root high-grade or superior?” the young man asked, annoyed by the other’s arrogance, but genuinely confused since he didn’t recall his cousin meeting such requirements and couldn’t understand why he seemed so confident.

“Huh? Of course not! But my root is mid-grade with only two elements! They’re accepting anything, even trash roots like yours, so obviously they’ll take me — a genius. My father sent me knowing they’d recognize the talent of someone like me,” said the short man proudly, making the young man furrow his brow.

He didn’t like his cousin. He knew all too well how wicked and cruel both he and his father could be — even to the point of delusion about who they truly were and their worth in the world.

‘If I didn’t know better, I’d really believe you think you’re the reincarnation of an immortal… wait, you probably actually believe that.’

Shen He thought, disgusted.

Bothered by the loud and arrogant tone of his cousin, which was starting to draw resentful looks from the crowd, he simply walked away without sparing him another glance.

Shen He’s cousin, seeing him leave, threw him a look of disdain.

“Trash will always be trash.” He spat on the ground, then returned to waiting, eyes fixed anxiously on the center of the square.

Shen He heard it, but he was used to it — or so he told himself, even as his fists clenched beneath his sleeves and he walked off with an indifferent expression.

After distancing himself and finding a quieter corner, Shen He took a deep breath and brought a hand to the necklace around his neck.

‘Please, Infinite Dao Sect… you’re my only hope,’ he thought bitterly, gazing up at the gentle morning sky.

He then sat cross-legged and began to cultivate.

With so many people around, there were safety risks, since cultivating left him vulnerable. Additionally, the crowd stirred the spiritual energy, making cultivation more unstable, and the noise made concentration difficult.

So, cultivating in that environment should’ve been nearly impossible, slowing his speed to 1/20th or less of normal… well, if it were an ordinary situation.

But Shen He, without much thought, simply pulled in as much spiritual energy as he could without hesitation.

The energy entered through his roots, but before even reaching anything, it was automatically diverted to the necklace around his neck — never touching the roots or reaching his dantian.

That was Shen He’s reality. Though not a prodigious genius, he wasn’t talentless either, possessing a root of perfect quality.

The only problem was that it was five-elemental.

In other words, his cultivation speed was three times slower than someone with a low-grade single-element root. Even so, by his hometown’s standards — where Qi Refinement was the limit — he could reach the peak of that realm in about 80 years, which wasn’t bad.

His cousin, on the other hand, with a mid-grade two-element root, cultivated faster and was considered one of the city’s geniuses, expected to complete Qi Refinement before the age of 60.

Well, that’s what should have happened.

But when he was a child, Shen He accidentally stumbled upon a cursed necklace. From the moment he wore it — after accidentally spilling blood on it — all of his spiritual energy began to be absorbed.

Desperate, he immediately told the clan leader, his father, but neither he — at the final stage of Qi Refinement — nor his grandfather — who had perfected the realm — could do anything. The necklace couldn’t be removed.

Faced with that bitter truth, he couldn’t even seek external help.

If others learned that even a peak Qi Refinement cultivator was powerless before the necklace, they would surely try to cut Shen He’s throat to obtain it. The item was likely a Founder-Tier treasure, or possibly higher.

And a treasure of that level — whether cursed or simply misused by a child — would cause a bloodbath if word got out.

Since then, Shen He, though possessing a dantian at the 2nd level of Qi Refinement, could no longer fill it with energy nor cultivate his roots. Now, at nearly 20 years old, he remained stuck at that level, unable to use spiritual energy, since the necklace devoured everything.

He was practically a mortal.

But he never gave up on cultivation. On the contrary, he became increasingly determined. Every spare moment, he cultivated with absolute focus. His goal? To feed the necklace with all his strength.

Years ago, his father and grandfather had given him two choices — both helpless.

The first: abandon cultivation and live among mortals, enjoying life.

Or the second:

Try to feed the necklace to its limit, wasting years in solitary cultivation with no progress, clinging to the vague hope that one day the necklace might stop devouring his spiritual energy.

But, if there was one word that described Shen He, it was stubborn.

Many nights he had cried; many times, his heart sank into melancholy upon being called a crippled trash cultivator behind his back — by people from the city or even his own clanmates. Though they never said it to his face or humiliated him publicly like his cousin did, he could still clearly see it in their eyes and hear it in their whispers around the corner.

Still, he persisted. Even if one day he grew old and neared death, even if by then breaking the necklace no longer mattered and success in cultivation was out of reach, he was still determined to persevere.

All in pursuit of a vain hope: that he might one day cultivate again — even if only for a single day — and prove that he was not crippled trash.

With firm thoughts and unshakable will, he continued cultivating, absorbing spiritual energy with all his might. Then, without warning, a voice pierced the silence, wrenching him from his meditation.

“Boy, you’re quite stubborn, I must admit.”

An elderly voice, calm and distant, rang in Shen He’s ears.

Shen He immediately stopped cultivating and opened his eyes, alarmed, rising quickly in surprise.

He hadn’t felt anyone approach, which made him all the more startled. He quickly looked around but couldn’t see the source of the voice.

‘Sound transmission?’ he wondered, frowning, thinking that must be the case, though something about it felt off.

“No, it wasn’t sound transmission. But that doesn’t matter. Congratulations, boy, you’ve done me a great favor.”

The voice spoke again, and suddenly, an old cultivator appeared before him — dressed in black robes, with red hair and a long red beard, exuding a terrifying presence.

“Ah?!” Shen He gasped, stumbled backward, and fell on his butt. Still sitting, he stared in disbelief at the old man and blurted out, “Who are you?!”

The old man calmly observed him, not answering. His gaze remained indifferent, fixed on him.

Shen He quickly composed himself and realized he was being rude.

Hurriedly, he stood up, slapped the dust off his butt, straightened himself, and respectfully clasped his fists and bowed deeply.

“Junior Shen He greets Senior. Senior, may this junior be bold enough to ask your name?” he said, polite and humble.

The old man nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“My name is irrelevant. You may call me whatever you wish. But since you’ve done me a great favor, I shall grant you a request — so long as I agree with it. Now, tell me what you desire.”

The old man didn’t seem deliberately arrogant, but it was evident he had stood at the pinnacle of power for many years. His mannerisms were etched into his very bones.

If Aotian had been listening to the old man’s words, he would surely wonder if the elder was a genius — and the necklace, a magic lamp.

Shen He was stunned by everything happening and couldn’t help but feel uneasy at being asked to make a request.

“Um… Senior, what do you mean when you say I helped you?” he asked respectfully, trying to understand the situation before asking for anything.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the people nearby in the crowd were completely ignoring them, as if nothing had happened. He knew that must have something to do with the old cultivator.

The old man narrowed his eyes slightly, and Shen He couldn’t help but tremble, fear rising in his chest, afraid he had offended him.

Fortunately, the old man didn’t seem to be malicious.

“It’s simple. My soul was dormant within the necklace. But ever since you spilled blood on it, I began to awaken. Since then, I subconsciously observed your determination and good character. Each time you drew spiritual energy into your roots and the necklace absorbed it, it helped bring me closer to waking.”

“So, to repay you for the years I hindered your cultivation, I shall grant you one request. But think carefully before deciding. After all, in this world, few are worthy of my action — and you will not get a second chance.”

The old man explained, staring firmly at the boy.

There was appreciation in the eyes of the mysterious old cultivator for the determined young man.

Upon hearing that, Shen He froze.

His body began to tremble, his fists clenched tightly under his sleeves, and his face turned bright red.

But it wasn’t anger — no, definitely not. It was the opposite. It was overwhelming joy.

This was an opportunity he had never expected to receive in his life.

Even if his cultivation had never been blocked, his destiny would have been to remain a Qi Refiner until death, humiliated by trash like his cousin who had more talent.

Now, before him, stood a chance to transcend that reality and reach for things he had only dreamed of. It was obvious that this old cultivator was anything but ordinary — he was a terrifying expert.

Anyone in his place would have traded the few lost years without hesitation for such an opportunity.

It wasn’t unfair — not at all.

Without thinking twice, he dropped to his knees before the old man and struck his forehead against the ground forcefully.

“Senior, if it does not offend you, allow this humble junior to call you Master!” he cried out with determination and humility.

The old man, who until then had kept an indifferent expression, raised an eyebrow in interest upon seeing the scene.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep