Chapter 72: Setting Out for the Small Dojo

Ge Qian’s voice, infused with magical power, exploded like thunder from the ninth heaven. Every villager heard it clearly, and at once, they filed out of their thatched huts and gathered on the main street.

The first thing everyone saw was the piles of gold and silver treasures stacked high along the road. They paused in astonishment, then looked up to see Ge Qian, treading on his sword in the air, scattering gold and silver from above.

A clamor of voices arose. “Has a celestial descended to the mortal world?” “Is this truly the immortal of legend?” “Have we received the immortal’s blessing, and will never worry about our lives again?”

An elderly man with a withered frame, the village chief, who was experienced and knowledgeable, was moved to tears. “Fellow villagers, our ancestors’ spirits have revealed themselves! We have received the immense favor of the head of the Celestial Star Sect, who has bestowed these treasures upon us. Let us first kneel to the envoy and pray for the sect leader’s prosperity!”

The villagers were simple and kind-hearted; they worshipped whomever brought them benefit. Moreover, this was tangible wealth, enough to ensure they would never have to worry about food and clothing. Such riches they had never seen in their lives. In an instant, the crowd sank to their knees, murmuring prayers for the leader of the Celestial Star Sect.

Witnessing all this, Ge Qian was delighted. He called out in a loud, clear voice, “The village chief will be responsible for distributing the wealth evenly. There must be no favoritism or injustice to avoid disputes. My business here is done, and now I must return and report.”

The village chief bowed respectfully. “I will not fail your expectations, sir. I will be fair and impartial. Please, would you honor our village with a short rest?”

“Your kindness is appreciated, but duty calls and I cannot linger. Farewell.” With that, he stepped onto his sword, transformed into a beam of blue light, and vanished at the horizon.

The village chief muttered to himself, “Why does this celestial envoy bear such a resemblance to our own Ge Qian boy?”

Obtaining the gold and silver had been a light and pleasant task for Ge Qian. He had successively slain more than a dozen notorious bandit chieftains in the surrounding mountains, seized their hoarded treasures, and bestowed them upon the villagers.

Returning to the Celestial Star Sect, he felt as if his spirit had detached from the mundane world, cast off the shackles of the earth, and was but a step away from remaking himself in the Foundation Establishment stage—ready to build his heavenly foundation.

He shifted the karmic bonds of the villagers onto the Celestial Star Sect rather than himself. A sect is like an individual, with its own constitution and system of self-regulation. All blessings and virtues would be shared by the sect as a whole, and as Ge Qian was but an ordinary disciple—not even an elite—his share of the burden was minimal.

Thus, he could extricate himself from mundane karma and break free of worldly ties. The villagers, enriched, would embark on grand projects, transform their homes, alter the land itself—so much so that the earth would forget the Ge Qian who was born and raised there, and he would be freed from its bonds.

In truth, spiritual insight and elevation cannot be gained through external means; it can only be achieved through one’s own actions. Ge Qian had simply performed a small act of kindness and thereby gained the foundation for advancement. Those who spend their days racking their brains and relying on external treasures, only to bind themselves with invisible fetters, cannot compare.

In the days that followed, the Celestial Star Sect was abuzz with activity. Many cultivators who knew they had no hope of advancement without the Foundation Establishment Pill, or who were advanced in years and nearing the end of their lives at the Qi Gathering stage, flocked to the Minor Arena, hoping for a stroke of fortune.

On the third day after Ge Qian’s return, he received notice: all cultivators entering the Minor Arena were to assemble at the main square.

Ge Qian mounted his sword and flew there.

At the plaza, nearly a hundred people had gathered. Though they knew well they were entering a dragon’s lair and the chances of survival were slim, many were willing to risk everything in pursuit of the path to immortality.

Ge Qian found an inconspicuous spot, sat cross-legged, and closed his eyes to rest. The others whispered among themselves, eager and restless, itching to try their luck.

Suddenly, a pressure descended from the sky, crushing and boundless. A short, spirited elder landed accompanied by two others. Fortunately, the oppressive force remained suspended in the air; otherwise, none of the disciples present would have survived. The newcomer was the Peak Master of Celestial Star Peak, at the pinnacle of the Core Formation stage. It was said that, wielding only his own strength, he had slain two demonic cultivators of equal rank, earning widespread fame—the venerable Elder Gu Tian. The disciples hurriedly rose in reverence and shouted, “We welcome the Elder’s arrival!”

With that, they all knelt in unison.

Gu Tian burst into laughter. “Get up! Enough with the formalities. I will lead you on this journey to the Minor Arena. Stay alert. Kill as many disciples from other sects as you can, gather more spiritual herbs, and make sure you all come back alive!”

The disciples responded in a thunderous chorus, “Yes, we will not let you down!”

Gu Tian nodded. “In the world of cultivation, strength is paramount. Back in the day, I too entered the Minor Arena, and that is how I achieved what I have today. Listen—talent is not everything. Ambition is key. Once inside, you must all follow the lead of Bai Ruyu. She is your leader, understood?”

“Yes, Senior Sister is invincible!” shouted a disciple who idolized Bai Ruyu. The others quickly echoed the sentiment, hoping to gain her notice and ensure rescue should they run into danger together.

Bai Ruyu smiled and nodded in return, acknowledging the gesture, but her gaze swept over Ge Qian, whether intentionally or not.

Ge Qian wore an expression of caution and humility, looking every bit the novice venturing out for his first trial.

The other elder was Elder Cui, tasked with inspecting the disciples after the Minor Arena to ensure no one secretly kept any treasures. He nodded in satisfaction, clearly pleased with Ge Qian’s demeanor.

Gu Tian, seeing all was ready, announced, “All spiritual herbs obtained in the Minor Arena must be handed over to the sect. Anyone found hiding them will be executed without mercy. Elder Cui Yun will be in charge of inspections. Now, let’s depart!”

With that, he spat out a golden miniature sword that grew in the wind to a hundred yards in length, golden runes flickering across its surface as if the blade itself were alive.

“Why are you all standing around? Get on; I’ll take you there!” Gu Tian said impatiently.

Elder Cui stepped aboard first, followed by Bai Ruyu, then the disciples rushed to climb onto the massive sword. Once everyone was aboard, Gu Tian landed at the sword’s tip, activated a transparent shield with a wave of his hand, and urged the sword forward.

The great sword shot into the sky, slicing through the air. Its flight was so swift that even a Foundation Establishment cultivator caught in its wake would be shredded to pieces.

As for those at the Qi Gathering stage, it would be certain death without Gu Tian’s protective barrier.

Ge Qian could see nothing—only a flash of white light surrounded him. Any attempt to extend his spiritual sense was instantly repelled. This was his first deep experience of the terror of the Core Formation stage; should the elder sneeze, he would die a hundred times over.

After half a day of such flight, the sword abruptly stopped. Gu Tian scanned the area with his spiritual sense, a smile crossing his face, then the sword swerved sharply to the left.

After a few more flashes, their speed slowed and the disciples could finally see their surroundings: endless ranges of mountains, some thousands of yards high, others only a few dozen, covered in dense vegetation and dark forests, the air filled with the deafening roars of savage beasts.

On a vast hillside stood more than a hundred bald monks, each draped in a kasaya, with fierce, imposing faces—nothing of the benevolence one would expect, but rather the look of a band of villainous monks.

Their leader, however, had kindly features, a peaceful aura, and a deeply wrinkled face. He laughed heartily at Gu Tian: “So it’s you leading the party this time. Back in the day, you were a hero, standing against the demonic path and slaying two cultivators of equal rank. This old monk has always admired you.”