Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 2: Single Spirit Root

Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou shared a single, horrifying realization: *We’re dead.*

They had just meticulously plotted to cheat on the entrance exam—directly in front of the chief examiner.

Senior Sister Yun Zhi, however, possessed the terrifying grace of a living goddess. Her gaze swept over them once—a heavy, intimidating weight—before she dismissed them entirely, turning her attention to the trials as if their petty scheming was beneath her notice.

Her authority within the Dao Seeking Sect was absolute. The disciples assisting her were all dragons among men in the outside world—prodigies favored by the heavens, accustomed to being worshipped. Yet, in Yun Zhi’s presence, they moved with military precision, executing her will without a whisper of dissent.

“The foundation of the bones is the first threshold on the path to immortality,” Yun Zhi’s voice rang out, ethereal yet commanding. “Without the proper foundation, a mountain of resources cannot force the gates of Cultivation open. The first trial will test this foundation. Step forward in turn. Those who lack confidence in their innate talent may depart now.”

Not a single soul moved.

Anyone daring enough to attend the Dao Seeking Sect’s trials already knew the measure of their own talent. It was exceedingly rare to find a wild card like Lu Yang, who had only shown up to try his luck because the sect happened to be within walking distance of his house.

This declaration was merely a filter to weed out the delusional. Traditionally, sects employed massive, conspicuous Foundation Stones to measure a candidate’s aptitude. Yet, the plaza before the Dao Seeking Sect gates remained entirely bare. They clearly had no intention of using such crude instruments.

Instead, a single disciple named Dai Bufan sat at the vanguard. He practiced a highly unorthodox cultivation technique. By sending a mere thread of Spiritual Qi through an opponent’s meridians, he could instantly map their foundation, their martial arts, and their fatal flaws—a terrifying advantage in life-or-death combat.

Now, he sat like a mortal physician, pressing two fingers to the wrists of the applicants to divine their worth.

“Metal, Water, and Fire Triple Spirit Root? Passable. Proceed.”

“Water and Fire Dual Spirit Root. Not bad.”

“Water and Wood Dual Spirit Root,” Dai Bufan murmured, his fingers resting lightly on the next youth’s pulse. “Your foundation suffered catastrophic damage in the past, likely a grievous wound sustained at the age of twelve. By all rights, it should have left you crippled. But your fate was not sealed. You encountered a benefactor of supreme medical skill who took pity on you and flawlessly rebuilt your foundation.”

The youth’s eyes widened in shock. “When I was twelve, my mother passed away, leaving my stepmother in absolute control of the clan. Fearing I would threaten her son’s inheritance, she orchestrated an assassination. I fell into a deep coma. When I finally awoke, I was completely healed. My father told me a wandering master had saved my life and departed without leaving a name.”

As the awestruck youth hurried past, a fellow Dao Seeking Sect disciple stepped forward, bowing in admiration. “To deduce the entire karmic web of a man’s life from a mere pulse! Senior Brother Dai, your cultivation has reached unfathomable heights. We must celebrate!”

Dai Bufan waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was that wandering master. I was just in a rush that day and forgot to leave my name after saving him.”

The surrounding disciples fell into a stunned silence.

Without missing a beat, Dai Bufan flicked his wrist at the next applicant. “Eighteen years old. Over the age limit. Go home.”

Next in line was a cherubic little monk, escorted by a towering senior monk. The child bowed with utmost solemnity.

Dai Bufan barely glanced at him before physically picking the boy up and handing him back to the senior monk. “What is a novice from the Hanging Temple doing here? The abbot’s spiritual brand is practically glowing inside you. Shoo. Go back to your temple.”

“Isn’t the Hanging Temple one of the Five Great Immortal Sects?” Lu Yang whispered.

Meng Jingzhou nodded, his expression grave. “They have the fewest disciples of the Five Greats. At their lowest point, it was just the abbot and a single disciple. Even at their peak, their numbers never break ten. That little monk hasn’t even begun Cultivation, yet he’s already been accepted. His innate Buddhist nature must be terrifying.”

He watched the little novice waddle away, his eyes narrowing as if sizing up a mortal nemesis. “I had assumed my destiny was to stand alone at the pinnacle of the cultivation world, looking down upon the masses. I didn’t expect to find someone worthy of being my rival so soon.”

Lu Yang stared at him, utterly baffled by the sheer density of his arrogance. “Are you not even slightly worried that Senior Sister Yun Zhi is going to kick us out for plotting to cheat?”

“What’s there to fear?” Meng Jingzhou scoffed. “Haven’t you read the mortal storybooks? The blind, arrogant elders of a major sect falsely accuse a young genius and expel him in disgrace. The genius swears vengeance, encounters endless fortuitous opportunities, and soars to the heavens, eventually becoming an existence the sect can only look up to in despair.”

Lu Yang let the silence stretch for a long moment. “…But Senior Sister Yun Zhi wouldn’t exactly be *falsely* accusing us, would she?”

Meng Jingzhou froze. “Good point.”

Cold sweat slicked his palms. Now Meng Jingzhou was panicking too.

“The aura within you is endlessly regenerative, flowing in a perfect, self-sustaining cycle,” Dai Bufan noted to another applicant. “Judging by your homespun clothes, you aren’t from a cultivation clan. Did you accidentally ingest a Green Wood Immortal Fruit in your youth? Pass.”

“Oh? Now this is an interesting constitution.” Dai Bufan pressed his fingers against the wrist of a towering, bronze-skinned behemoth. His eyes lit up. “The Ancient Barbarian bloodline. It has been an age since I last saw this.”

The applicant was a mountain of muscle, his bald head gleaming like polished brass under the sun. If someone claimed he was twenty-five, no one would bat an eye. Yet, since Dai Bufan didn’t dismiss him for being over the age limit, this hulking giant was somehow under sixteen.

Lu Yang could only marvel at the boy’s spectacular nutritional intake.

A ripple of awe swept through the crowd. The Ancient Barbarians were legendary for possessing the physical might to uproot mountains and an aura capable of swallowing the sun and moon. They had flourished to the absolute extreme before mysteriously vanishing into the river of time. The Central Continent hadn’t seen a trace of their bloodline in millennia. To think one had surfaced here at the Dao Seeking Sect’s trials.

Dai Bufan stifled a yawn. He had already processed half the applicants. How was it possible he hadn’t seen a single supreme talent yet? Had all the Single Spirit Roots been poached by the other sects?

Meng Jingzhou stepped up to the table, exuding an aura of absolute confidence. Dai Bufan reached out, expecting nothing. But the moment his index and middle fingers made contact with Meng Jingzhou’s wrist, his eyes bulged. He shot to his feet, knocking his chair back. “Heavens… it’s actually a Single—”

The plaza erupted. A Single Spirit Root!

The implications were world-shaking. For a Single Spirit Root, the Bottlenecks between cultivation realms were practically non-existent. Such a genius was destined to become a titan of the immortal path. If they entered the mortal courts, they would command empires; if they remained in the wild, they would carve out their own kingdoms!

Thousands of fervent gazes locked onto Meng Jingzhou. Forging a bond with a talent of this caliber before he fully matured was an opportunity of a lifetime. Clan elders frantically whispered to their juniors, ordering them to curry favor with Meng Jingzhou the moment they entered the sect.

Scion of the Meng Clan. A Single Spirit Root. A Dao Seeking Sect disciple. These three titles combined forged an ironclad guarantee: this boy would become a supreme authority within the sect, a peerless cultivator whose name would be etched into the annals of history!

“A Single Spirit Root,” Dai Bufan finished, his voice trembling slightly as he announced the full, tragic title. “The Path of the Eternal Bachelor.”

The entire plaza fell into a dead, suffocating silence.

Meng Jingzhou’s face turned a violent shade of purple. What the hell was a Single Spirit Root?! Was he cursed to be single for the rest of his life?!

“I may be young, but don’t you dare try to play me for a fool!” Meng Jingzhou roared, veins bulging on his forehead as he slammed his palms onto the table with a deafening *CRACK*.

“Junior Brother Dai, do not tease the applicants.”

An ethereal voice drifted through the air as Senior Sister Yun Zhi materialized from a swirl of mist. She shot Dai Bufan a chilling glare, causing the examiner to shrink his neck in guilt.

Meng Jingzhou let out a breath, his racing heart slowing. *Exactly.* Dai Bufan was just messing with him.

Yun Zhi turned her serene gaze to Meng Jingzhou. “However, Junior Brother Dai did not deceive you. You truly possess the Single Spirit Root. That is its academic classification. It is simply that in the cultivation world, the masses are more accustomed to its colloquial name: the Pure Yang Spirit Root.”

Meng Jingzhou: “…”

The horrifying truth crashed down upon him. He finally understood why the clan elders and his parents had refused to tell him the nature of his spirit root.

*“You’ll find out when you reach the Five Great Immortal Sects,”* they had said.

Bullshit! They were just too embarrassed to look him in the eye!

No wonder his parents had suddenly started asking if he wanted a new baby brother or sister immediately after his bone structure test.

A mutated Single Spirit Root. The Pure Yang Spirit Root. An existence of utmost, unyielding yang energy, the absolute bane of all ghosts and demons.

As long as he maintained his virginity—his Pure Yang Body—his Cultivation would progress a thousand miles a day.

But the moment he broke his Pure Yang Body… his Cultivation would plummet a thousand miles into the abyss.