“Reporting to Deacon Fang. Disciple Li Quan, ninety-three years of age.”

The white-haired old Daoist spoke with extreme caution, his voice trembling slightly.

Deacon Fang’s brow furrowed. “At your age, you still wish to cultivate immortality?”

“Please, Deacon, have mercy. This is this disciple’s singular obsession in life,” the old Daoist pleaded softly.

“Very well. Since you bear the keepsake token of our Wanchun Valley, you must be admitted, regardless of whether you can succeed in cultivation. Otherwise, there would be no point in disciples taking the tokens to pass down to their descendants.”

Deacon Fang pointed to the stone stele behind him—the very same one used for awarding Minor Merits. “Go. Place your hand upon it to register your name and reveal your roots.”

“If your name does not appear, you will not be permitted to learn immortal techniques. You would remain a servant for life upon entry.”

Old Daoist Li nervously swallowed a mouthful of saliva. He stepped up to the stele and pressed his trembling hand against the cold stone.

Characters slowly floated to the surface of the stele:

Li Quan, ninety-three years old, Laborer Disciple, Five Spirit Roots.

A flicker of joy crossed the old Daoist’s face as he looked back at Deacon Fang. “Does this mean I have Spirit Roots? I don’t have to be a servant?”

“Merely the poorest grade of Spirit Roots.” Deacon Fang didn’t even lift his eyelids, his eyes remaining narrowed slits.

“Next.”

“Han Yu, twelve years old.”

After stating his name and seeing Deacon Fang offer no response, Han Yu walked straight to the stele and placed his hand upon it.

A slight warmth spread from his palm, followed by characters materializing on the stone.

Han Yu, twelve years old, Laborer Disciple, Four Spirit Roots.

Deacon Fang showed a hint of surprise. “Not bad. Four Spirit Roots. You actually have hope of entering the Outer Sect.”

Old Daoist Li cautiously ventured a question. “Deacon Fang, with my Five Spirit Roots… do I also have hope of entering the Outer Sect?”

Deacon Fang scoffed. “To enter the Outer Sect, one must cultivate to the fourth layer of Qi Refining. With his Four Spirit Roots, it will take at least ten years of cultivation to have any hope.”

“If he needs ten years to reach the fourth layer of Qi Refining, then you—at your age and with inferior Spirit Roots—how many years do you think you have? You should be grateful you can be a Laborer Disciple and not a servant in this lifetime!”

Old Daoist Li’s face fell instantly, his mouth clamping shut in dejection.

Deacon Fang continued, “Li Quan, Han Yu. The two of you will go to the Spirit Field Department as Laborer Disciples. You will cultivate while tending the sect’s spirit fields.”

“You may keep twenty percent of the harvest from the spirit fields.”

“Every half-year harvest will be recorded as five Minor Merits for the sect.”

He swept a hand over his waist. Two sets of grey Laborer Disciple robes and two pale grey jade slips appeared on a nearby table.

Old Daoist Li and Han Yu stepped forward to collect their gear.

Deacon Fang then called over an Outer Disciple dressed in cyan robes. “Jin Qi, take them to be assigned spirit fields.”

Jin Qi nodded in acknowledgment and led the two out with a cheerful, amiable smile. “Follow me, Junior Brothers.”

He released a massive, emerald-green Plantain Leaf, gesturing for Han Yu and Old Daoist Li to step aboard.

Seeing the leaf—ten feet long, six feet wide, and only two inches thick—Han Yu and the old Daoist couldn’t help but look at Jin Qi with hesitation.

Understanding their concern, Jin Qi laughed. “Set your minds at ease. This spirit leaf is inherently tough and has been refined by our Wanchun Valley’s artifact smiths. There is absolutely no chance of it being trampled through.”

“Step on with peace of mind.”

Only then did Han Yu and the old Daoist step onto the large Plantain Leaf.

Jin Qi formed a hand seal. The spirit leaf floated up, departing from the central hub of Wanchun Valley. It crossed two mountain ridges before arriving at a flat valley and gently descending.

As soon as they landed, a round, portly man in cyan robes approached with a beaming smile.

“What brings you here, Junior Brother?”

“Senior Brother Wang, I’m here specifically to deliver these two Laborer Junior Brothers.”

Jin Qi introduced them to Han Yu and Old Daoist Li. “This Senior Brother Wang is just one step away from entering the Inner Sect. He is the steward in charge of the spirit fields here. From now on, you must obey his commands diligently, focusing on both cultivation and farming, with the hope of reaching the fourth layer of Qi Refining to enter the Outer Sect.”

Steward Wang showed some surprise. “The Immortal Destiny Grand Ceremony is still a year away. How did these two arrive?”

“They entered by presenting a keepsake token.”

“Oh!” Steward Wang nodded in understanding. “Then hand them over to me!”

Jin Qi nodded and turned to leave on his spirit leaf, but then seemed to remember something and specifically turned back. “You two Junior Brothers are new here and have no foundation. Life will likely be difficult.”

“Let me give you some common knowledge about the sect.”

He deliberately stepped off the spirit leaf and placed a jade slip into Han Yu’s hand.

A warmth spread in Han Yu’s heart, and he hurriedly expressed his thanks.

“No need for formalities. We may meet again in the Outer Sect if fate allows.” Jin Qi laughed, then rode the spirit leaf, drifting away gracefully.

Han Yu and Old Daoist Li both watched his departing figure, thinking this Senior Brother was truly a decent person.

“Hey! What are you two staring at? What are your names? Come register!”

Steward Wang called out impatiently.

“Senior Brother Wang, this lowly one is Li Quan…”

Old Daoist Li had barely spoken half a sentence when Steward Wang’s face turned ice-cold. “You dare call me ‘Senior Brother’? You’re just an old coot with no future ahead! You’re lucky I don’t assign you as a servant!”

His face changed faster than a flipping book!

Old Daoist Li’s expression immediately soured. He clenched his teeth and lowered his head.

Steward Wang spat on the ground. “What trash! Just because you entered the immortal gate with a token, you think you’re real disciples? You’re just laborers!”

“Hurry up and come register!”

Under his scolding, Old Daoist Li and Han Yu registered their names, Spirit Roots, and ages. He then led them to two plots of land. Each plot was several acres in size, with a neat stone house sitting at the far end.

“Start farming tomorrow. If you don’t understand anything, ask the others!”

After barking his orders, Steward Wang turned and left without a backward glance.

Old Daoist Li and Han Yu stood in the fields, looking at each other helplessly.

Compared to Jin Qi, this Steward Wang’s attitude was abysmal.

“Truly, the direct supervisor outranks distant authority…” Old Daoist Li muttered softly. “So even within an Immortal Sect, they are not exempt from such vulgarities!”

Hearing this, Han Yu couldn’t help but nod in agreement. He glanced back at the large crow on his shoulder—it had been extremely well-behaved the entire journey, not making a single move. The Immortal Masters of Wanchun Valley, being widely experienced, hadn’t paid it any mind either.

“Master Daoist, which plot are you picking?”

“Which plot does Master Daoist pick…” Old Daoist Li turned and raised his hand. “Master Daoist picks neither! I just want to smack the hell out of you!”

The surname Han was too cunning!

This kid’s grandfather had stolen Li’s beloved Wan’er back in the day. Now, this kid had handed over only one of the two tokens, effectively making Old Daoist Li his guide into the immortal sect!

Why are you Han folks so good at taking advantage of me?!

“If I were you, I wouldn’t brawl so openly,” a voice interjected.

Old Daoist Li quickly stopped his hand and turned to look.

Han Yu also hurriedly ran back a safe distance, ensuring he wouldn’t get hit.

Following the voice, three people emerged from their respective stone houses near the spirit fields.

The one who had spoken to stop Old Daoist Li appeared to be around thirty, sporting a mustache. He walked closer and explained, “Unless it’s on the disciples’ dueling platform or during the annual disciple competition, private fights are strictly forbidden. If discovered, the punishment is severe!”

He then introduced himself. “I am Zhang Shan. I’ve been here for twenty years. You can call me Senior Brother Zhang.”

The other two also approached. One was tall and burly, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, named Sun Kang. The other was a girl of about sixteen or seventeen. Though her looks were ordinary, she had a lively, smiling demeanor. Her name was Liu Lan.