Han Yun walked in silence beside the senior disciple guiding him deeper into the sect grounds, robes swaying with each step. The stone path beneath his feet led through towering gates, between cascading spirit waterfalls, and toward the inner courtyards reserved for those deemed worthy.
He should've felt amazing.
And he did… for about five minutes.
Until the sky decided to remind him that fate was a smug bastard.
Han Yun occasionally glanced back toward the entrance, where the crowd had all but exploded in excitement. From this distance, he could still see the flash of black light fading from the talent stone, the ripple of elders swarming the poor farmer boy like he was some divine beast who learned to walk upright.
He sighed through his nose.
"This world really won't let me have a moment, huh?"
For one glorious second, he thought he'd stolen the spotlight. That maybe, just maybe, this would be his first proper step toward standing out.
Then that guy appeared. Dirty clothes farmer boy.
Han Yun didn't bother hiding the flat expression on his face as he looked forward again.
"Can't even enjoy a red without someone dropping a black next to it. Honestly."
Still, after a pause, a slow smirk crawled back onto his lips.
"…But, I guess it's better this way."
But as much as Han Yun wanted to turn around right now, march over to the heaven-defying farmer boy, and slap a tracker onto his destiny-saturated forehead...
He didn't.
No, he thought, not yet. Timing is everything.
He had plenty of time to sink his hooks into that one. The world wasn't going to hand out a second black-talent protagonist so soon—not unless the heavens were on drugs.
For now, he walked forward, keeping his composure.
The senior disciple beside him, dressed in dark gray robes with a simple sword hanging from his hip, occasionally glanced over. Eventually, he spoke.
"You… don't seem too surprised about your result."
Han Yun gave a modest smile and dipped his head slightly.
"Ah, to be honest, I've always felt there was something different about me," he said, tone light but respectful. "But I never had the means to test it. My village didn't have any proper cultivators, and I lived alone after my... family was gone."
The senior nodded thoughtfully, buying it without suspicion.
"An orphan?"
Han Yun lowered his gaze and gave a perfectly timed sigh. "Yes. Grew up near the Southern Ridge. Just scraped by doing odd work, some herb gathering... when I could."
Mostly lies, of course. But what was he supposed to say? "I woke up in this body after getting hit by a bus in another universe"?
Yeah. No thanks.
The senior disciple made a sympathetic sound and didn't press further. "You're lucky, then. The sect rarely opens early. Seems fate is on your side."
Han Yun smiled faintly. If only you knew how right you are.
As they continued walking, Han Yun's eyes wandered—and widened.
The inner grounds of the Thousand Peaks Immortal Gate were something else entirely.
Tiered stone walkways wound through towering cliffs, each level lined with jade-roofed pavilions, spiritual gardens, training platforms, and floating formations glowing faintly with runes. Spirit beasts could be seen flying between peaks, and distant waterfalls fed into shimmering lakes that pulsed with Qi-rich mist.
It was like stepping into a painting—or more accurately, a setting pulled right out of the very web novels he used to read with ramen in one hand and self-loathing in the other.
He let out a quiet whistle under his breath.
"It's one thing to read about this stuff… it's another to walk through it."
As they walked deeper into the heart of the Thousand Peaks Immortal Gate, the senior disciple finally paused and turned to Han Yun, offering a polite nod.
"Oh, I almost forgot—my name is Li Feng," he said warmly, his voice casual but respectful. "I'll show you around for now. If you have any questions, just ask."
Han Yun smiled politely back. "Thank you, Senior Li Feng."
Li Feng led him along a winding path that twisted through lush gardens and over small bridges crossing streams filled with shimmering spiritual fish. Above them, towering peaks rose sharply into the clouds, each one crowned with ancient temples or cultivation chambers that radiated quiet majesty.
"As you can see," Li Feng explained, gesturing broadly, "our Thousand Peaks Immortal Gate is massive. Where we stand now is just the central area—midway up the mountain. Around us, there are exactly twenty-two mountain peaks, each governed by a powerful elder."
Han Yun followed Li Feng's gesture, counting silently as his eyes wandered across the towering, mist-veiled peaks.
"Each elder takes personal disciples, usually those they find talented or interesting enough," Li Feng continued. "With your red-level talent, I imagine several elders will soon pay attention to you. If you're lucky, one might even invite you directly to their peak."
"Lucky?" Han Yun echoed, curious.
Li Feng chuckled lightly. "Yes. Talent matters, but elders have their own preferences. It's not unusual for a disciple—even a talented one—to wait a long time before being chosen. Until then, you'll cultivate with others at the inner disciple courtyard."
Han Yun nodded thoughtfully. "Understood, Senior."
Li Feng smiled approvingly. "Good. Let's continue—I'll show you around a bit more. It's easy to get lost here."
Han Yun followed, letting his gaze wander once more. Twenty-two peaks, twenty-two elders.
He couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement?
As they continued walking through the serene but awe-inspiring inner sect paths, Han Yun glanced sideways, pretending it was casual.
"Senior Li Feng," he began, "that black light back there… has something like that ever happened before in this sect?"
Li Feng paused, then gave a slow nod, his expression growing more serious. "Rarely. Extremely rarely."
He looked up at one of the towering peaks in the distance before continuing, "In the Thousand Peaks Immortal Gate's long history, a black-grade talent might show up once every century—if that. Most disciples never even hear of one in their lifetime."
Han Yun whistled quietly. "No wonder the elders looked like their souls nearly left their bodies."
Li Feng chuckled at that. "You're not wrong. Those talents aren't just rare—they're like catching a falling star. The heavens don't hand them out lightly."
He clasped his hands behind his back as they walked beneath a long hanging bridge lined with floating lanterns. "Red talents, like yours, show up every few years at best. They're considered outstanding, and worthy of direct inner disciple status and future peak competition. But black…" he shook his head, "black is different. That's heaven's will. A disciple with that kind of root could lead the sect into a golden age."
Han Yun nodded, but his thoughts were already racing.
Li Feng continued, voice lowering a little. "You might not know this yet, but every few years, large-scale tournaments are held across the Southern Flame Jade Empire. Disciples from the major sects compete—not just to bring glory, but to claim resources, reputation, and standing."
Han Yun blinked. "Oh, so competitive stuff?"
Li Feng gave a grim smile. "Exactly. The last major event was the Crimson Demon-Burying Forest Trials. It was open only to disciples below Core Formation from all over the southern continent."
He paused, then sighed.
"Our sect's strongest inner disciple at the time—Senior Brother Xie Liang—was thought to be unbeatable in the mid stages of Foundation Establishment. But in the final stretch, he was defeated and killed by a dark horse from the Fallen Leaf Sword Sect. It was a crushing blow to our name."
Han Yun could almost feel the bitterness behind those words.
Li Feng looked forward. "That's why a black grade now… it's a heaven-sent answer. Someone who could carry our sect back to the top."
Han Yun said nothing, eyes narrowing slightly as his thoughts swirled.
So that walking farm tool really is going to become the sect's golden child, huh?
After nearly an hour of walking, climbing, and weaving through the maze-like terraces of the Thousand Peaks Immortal Gate, Li Feng finally brought Han Yun to a quiet courtyard nestled beneath a ridge that overlooked the central valley of the sect.
The sun was beginning to dip, casting warm light over the stone tiles and distant peaks bathed in mist.
Li Feng turned to Han Yun with a casual yet slightly more formal tone.
"That's about all the basics for now," he said, dusting his hands. "As a newly accepted disciple—especially one with red-grade talent—you'll be officially assigned to the Inner Disciple Courtyard."
Han Yun gave a polite nod, still pretending not to be impressed by literally everything around him.
Li Feng continued, "You'll receive standard resources every week. That includes a beginner-level cultivation scripture, basic cultivation pills to assist your Qi refining, some low-tier spirit food, and access to the public training grounds and libraries."
Han Yun raised an eyebrow. "Not bad."
Li Feng smirked. "It is. But don't get too comfortable. Just because you're an inner disciple now doesn't mean it's permanent."
Han Yun's smirk matched his. "Oh?"
"Every disciple, regardless of rank, is expected to contribute to the sect," Li Feng said firmly. "That means completing tasks—missions—both inside and outside the sect. Things like patrolling spirit fields, gathering herbs, escorting cargo, clearing rogue beasts… If you do them, you earn sect tokens. The more tokens, the more access you get."
He paused before adding with a small shrug, "And if you slack off? If you underperform? Even an inner disciple can be demoted to the outer. It's happened before."
Han Yun nodded thoughtfully. "So, no freeloaders?"
"Exactly. Talent gets you in. Effort keeps you here."
Han Yun chuckled. "Fair enough."
He wasn't exactly thrilled about the manual labor part—but hey, if scamming, sweet-talking, and sabotaging main characters was an art form… then surely he could handle a few sect tasks here and there.
Besides, he wasn't planning to stay "just another inner disciple" for long.
As night fell over the Thousand Peaks Immortal Gate, Han Yun found himself alone for the first time since his chaotic journey began that morning.
He sat on a thick branch of an old pine tree growing along the cliff's edge, its roots gripping the stone like an ancient sentinel. Below him, the deep valley shimmered faintly in the moonlight, and above, the stars burned bright in the clear sky.
The wind was cool. The Qi in the air was thick, almost tangible. Every breath felt like it was feeding something inside him.
He leaned back against the trunk, letting out a long, quiet breath.
"…What a day."
He chuckled to himself, still half in disbelief.
"Scammed a rich kid in the morning, snuck into line with a bribe, made red on the talent stone, and somehow ended up as an inner disciple of one of the respectable sects in the region… all in one day."
"If I didn't live it, I'd think it was bullshit."
But the smile faded slightly as he stared into the night sky, the stars reminding him of the cold, distant reality he now lived in.
"This world… it's not one that's kind to people like me....."
The quiet confidence in his chest flickered just a little.
He had talent now, sure. He had a system. But there were still monsters out there. People born lucky, blessed by fate, raised in power and carried by plot armor thicker than fortress walls.
Han Yun let out a sigh, then summoned the system panel with a thought. A familiar ping echoed softly in his mind.
[Tracking Target: Ye Fan]
Status: Alive
Location: Deep Wilderness – Cave Meditation]
Estimated Return to Misty Spring City: 6-8 days
Mood: Focused]
"Huh. Still in that cave," Han Yun muttered. "Looks like our boy's going full shut-in breakthrough mode."
That gave him time.
And time to quietly build his web before the chosen ones started drawing attention.
He let the panel fade and leaned back again, resting one arm behind his head.
The stars above didn't care about his scheming. The sect below didn't yet know what he was planning.
For the next two days, Han Yun dedicated himself entirely to cultivation.
He chose a quiet spot beneath a pine tree near one of the sect's minor spirit ponds, where the Qi in the air was dense but not crowded with other disciples. Each morning, he'd sit cross-legged with his eyes closed, drawing in breath after breath of spiritual energy and guiding it through his steadily stabilizing meridians.
And to his surprise…
He actually enjoyed it.
"Huh," he muttered once during a break, stretching his arms, "this stuff's kinda addicting."
Watching the flow of Qi grow smoother, his dantian grow denser, and his body starts reacting more efficiently—it was like leveling up in real time. His progress wasn't flashy like the chosen ones, but it was steady. Real.
By the end of the second day, he could feel it—his Qi Refining realm was nearing its peak.
Not breaking through just yet, but standing right at the edge.
"I'm already at the top of Qi Refining," he murmured, leaning back on one hand with a satisfied smirk. "Not bad for someone who was basically a trash bag a week ago."
But of course, cultivating alone wouldn't feed his future ambitions.
So between sessions, Han Yun accepted basic sect tasks. Menial work, sure—but essential.
He spent hours gathering herbs from the low ridges, delivering scrolls to grumpy elders, and even transporting meals to alchemy halls. At first, he stared blankly at the request slips.
"…Why does this feel suspiciously like working for fantasy UberEats?"
Still, he didn't complain.
Every task completed earned him sect tokens—and those were the true gateway to advancement in this place. Better techniques, stronger pills, access to inner libraries and special training grounds—it all came down to how much effort you put in.
And Han Yun?
He worked hard. Not because he was naturally diligent, but because he knew value.
As Han Yun made his way toward the sect's quest board, hands tucked behind his back and humming faintly to himself like a hardworking inner disciple with no sinister thoughts whatsoever, his ears perked up.
Voices. Chatter. That low murmur of gossip just behind the corner.
He slowed his pace immediately, veering off slightly and pretending to admire a stone lantern while he subtly leaned in.
"…I'm telling you, I saw it with my own eyes! Elder Bai himself came down and escorted the guy!"
"No way. That Elder Bai? The one with the Ice Lotus physique daughter?"
"Yup. Not only that—he's taken him in as a foster son. And rumor is… he's making him his future son-in-law too."