Chapter 39

For a period afterward, Li Mengze spent her days watering flowers, pulling weeds, refining pills, walking her beasts—the comfort of her life was indescribable. Occasionally, she would cultivate, living freely and at ease.

One morning, as Li Mengze opened the courtyard gate, a small paper crane flew in from outside. It circled her once, then settled gently in her palm. Its tiny beak opened and closed, and the voice that emerged belonged to Li Yunzan.

It was nearly time for Kunlun to open its gates and accept new disciples. This grand event happened once every ten years, and all mortal children could come to test their spiritual roots. As long as they possessed a spiritual root—regardless of its quality—they could join Kunlun. Naturally, this was not unique to Kunlun; other sects operated similarly. However, those wishing to join the Demonic Sect had to travel to the Demon Realm for trials, where admission depended on their performance. To Li Mengze, though the methods differed, in essence, the recruitment was much the same.

Spiritual roots determined potential, paving the way for a cultivator's future, while temperament decided success or failure, enabling one to resist temptations as they progressed. These distinctions stemmed from the differing philosophies of each sect’s cultivation methods.

As one of the few Foundation Establishment cultivators among the previous batch of disciples, Li Mengze was required to participate in this disciple recruitment gathering. She was not the main figure, merely assisting with welcoming new disciples. Though the task was simple and the points awarded were substantial, few were willing to do it. It was a thankless job, with many troublesome new disciples to manage, and one might later be dragged into mentoring or lecturing them regularly. So, everyone avoided the task when possible. The only reason Li Mengze was assigned it was because she forgot about it entirely. Had she wished, she could have declared a closed-door cultivation or taken another mission away from the sect, and no one would have pressed her. But having done nothing, when the senior responsible sent a message and received no reply, he assumed she was willing. Thus, the task information was handed to Li Yunzan, leading to this situation.

Li Mengze was indifferent about the matter—there was little difference between going or not. After receiving the message, she noted the time and gathering place, then promptly forgot about it.

On the day of the gathering, Li Mengze arrived at the Hall of Ten Thousand Arts right on time. Several cultivators were already waiting, and upon closer look, she recognized some familiar faces. Among them was Senior Brother Lü Fang, previously responsible for exchanges at the Hall, now a late Foundation Establishment cultivator. Clearly, he hadn’t neglected his cultivation over the years, balancing tasks and training well. Another was a handsome man fanning himself in the cold, a manager at the Hall and a consummate Foundation Establishment cultivator—Senior Brother Li Yongxin. The disciple meditating even while out on missions was a nominal disciple of the Taiyi Peak Master, rumored to be accepted as a true disciple upon reaching the Golden Core stage, hence his diligence. Li Mengze couldn’t recall his name, though she vaguely remembered his surname was Wang. As for the others, she recognized their faces but was not acquainted with them; nevertheless, this did not hinder her from undertaking the mission.

She approached slowly, bowing slightly to those with higher cultivation, though only as a formality. None dared accept the gesture and all politely stepped aside.

If she was familiar with anyone, it was only Li Yongxin and Lü Fang—at best, acquaintances. Thus, Li Yongxin took it upon himself to introduce her.

“This, as everyone knows, is the youngest disciple of the Sword-Hidden Peak Master, Sister Li. She’ll be joining us for this task. She’s quite young, so I hope you all look after her.”

He then turned to Li Mengze, introducing those present. After basic mutual understanding was established, he said, “Everyone’s here. We can set out now.”

This recruitment was a major event, with all the major sects sending representatives. It was held in the capital city of Shuiblue Star, and all children under fifteen from the planet could participate. Anyone with a spiritual root could join a sect, but which one they joined was significant. For instance, if one chose Kunlun at their first spiritual root test but only had three roots, they might only be accepted as an outer disciple. In a smaller sect, they could become an inner disciple, or even a personal disciple of a Golden Core cultivator. In Kunlun, however, they would start as an outer disciple. Thus, after learning their root, some regretted their choices and sought other sects. But sects that were chosen second were less welcoming, and even if admitted, resources would be scarce. Therefore, it was best to decide firmly which sect to join and not hesitate, lest unnecessary troubles arise—it would be detrimental to oneself.

The capital city was far more prosperous than Li Mengze had imagined. While it wasn’t modern, with cars everywhere, someone had developed spirit-stone vehicles that closely resembled modern cars, except they ran on spirit stones instead of gasoline. Otherwise, Li Mengze found little difference.

They chose a hotel with modern features—room service, deliveries, and each person had a comfortable room within a spacious courtyard. By then, the capital was already crowded, streets overflowing with all kinds of people. Restaurants and inns were packed. Their hotel catered specifically to cultivators, with a large courtyard divided into several rooms, offering great comfort.

The testing for spiritual roots lasted five days; Li Mengze and her group arrived relatively late. According to Li Yongxin, he planned to attend a royal banquet with other sect representatives that evening, and even asked Li Mengze if she wanted to join, but she declined.

The official testing would begin in two days, and by now, nearly everyone had arrived. Those who hadn’t would likely not get a number—after all, there were countless children between five and fifteen on a planet, so most came days early to queue for numbers. It reminded her of parents waiting outside for college entrance exams or lining up overnight for kindergarten admissions—a universal parental devotion.

She observed this from her window: the central square was densely packed with people. With her sharp cultivator’s senses, she saw adults made up eighty percent, children twenty; and among the children, many wore tattered clothes, barely covered—clearly orphans.

That night, Li Yongxin and Lü Fang, along with Senior Brother Wang, did not return. They only showed up at noon the next day, swaying as they entered. Li Mengze knew well what they had been up to—the mortal emperor, eager to win favor with cultivators, would offer gifts, and for these vigorous young men, besides pills and treasures, there were beautiful women. Though such pleasures were useless for cultivation, a brief indulgence did no harm.

She didn’t go out herself—not for lack of desire, but because the streets were so packed, it was reminiscent of holiday travel crowds in her previous life. She had no wish to join the throng.

Moreover, she sensed something stirring in the space around her, a feeling that something new had entered her sea of consciousness. It made her shudder, so she dared not venture out, fearing unforeseen events. This sensation lasted until evening, then faded. Just as she sensed the presence of the space, she was interrupted by a knock at her door.

She sighed helplessly, stood up, and opened the door. Lü Fang was outside. “Sister, if you have time, shall we discuss the procedures for the coming days?”

“No,” Li Mengze thought inwardly, but outwardly she replied with a cheerful smile, “Of course, are we meeting outside?” She had already spotted Li Yongxin sitting in the little garden.

Lü Fang nodded, “Very well, Sister, please go ahead. Senior Brother Li is waiting over there. I’ll go find Senior Brother Wang and the others.” With a cupped fist, he moved on to the next room.

Li Mengze closed her door and walked slowly toward Li Yongxin.

“Senior Brother, you seem to be in high spirits,” she teased quietly. Li Yongxin held his teacup, savoring the tea leisurely. Even from a distance, she could smell the refreshing aroma, proof that cultivators enjoyed their comforts everywhere.

Li Yongxin said nothing, pouring her a cup as well. Before the others arrived, the two sat and drank spirit tea together.

After a few cups, the others joined them. Three sat beside Li Mengze and Li Yongxin. Lü Fang helped himself to the teapot, pouring a cup for each, downing his in one gulp, then pouring another to sip slowly.

Wang Sicong set his cup down, exhaled deeply, and asked, “Senior Brother Li, how many disciples are we planning to recruit this time?”

Li Mengze, new to this, and another woman, Wang Xueyu, were both puzzled. Wasn’t it simply taking as many as there were? Was there a quota?

Sensing their confusion, Li Yongxin smiled, leisurely pouring himself another cup. Li Mengze saw Wang Xueyu, the only other female cultivator, purse her lips and glance at Li Yongxin, then notice Li Mengze watching her. She blinked and smiled faintly.

“One single-root disciple is worth two thousand contribution points; innate spiritual bodies, five thousand. The more, the better.” The meaning was clear—Li Mengze and Wang Xueyu understood: those with good roots were always welcome, but those with poor roots could be accepted or not. If someone truly wished to join, they would have to pay a price.

Li Mengze nodded. So, even the cultivation world had its unspoken rules!