Record of Mortals Slaying Heaven

Chapter 7: A Mixed Bag

The courtyard was very quiet, so quiet that you could hear the locust tree leaves rustling gently in the wind. Sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves, casting dappled patterns on the bluestone slabs.

Shen Moqi sat on the stone bench, her gaze fixed on the Taoist priest in the green robe opposite her. The Imperial Preceptor looked to be no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a lean face and an indescribable sense of detachment in his eyes, as if he were sitting right in front of her, yet also floating on a cloud. He had been staring at the old locust tree for a long time, so long that Shen Moqi thought he had fallen asleep.

But Shen Moqi knew he didn't. The man's breathing was extremely light and shallow, the rise and fall of his chest was almost imperceptible, as if his whole being had melted into the tranquility.

Shen Moqi didn't speak. He was still thinking about everything that had just happened in the Golden Hall.

Gold, silver, and official titles—those are tangible things. Zhang Cheng had secretly told him that with such a great achievement, he would at least be a viscount, rewarded with a thousand taels of gold and a hundred acres of fertile land. With these, he could settle down in Yanjing, no longer suffer from hunger and cold, and bring Shi Tou and his children over to raise, living a peaceful and stable life.

He just told the Grand Preceptor that what he had gained might not necessarily be a good thing, and that was the truth, but he believed he could hold onto it.

It's just something I think about for a lifetime.

How can I live a peaceful and stable life in this unfamiliar world where there is no mother, no cell phone, and no internet cafe?

And then what? Then you die here, never to see your mother again, never to return to that home with the countdown?

He remembered the twenty-seventh missed call in the last moments before he fell from the rooftop. He remembered the word "Mom" lighting up and then going dark on the phone screen. He remembered the burning sensation in his palm, almost searing his skin, during the fall.

Come back home.

He wants to go home.

But... does cultivating immortality guarantee a return home?

He raised his head, looked at the Imperial Preceptor, and stood up to bow – this was the etiquette Zhang Cheng had taught him overnight. Although it wasn't quite natural, it was at least presentable.

"Imperial Preceptor, there is something I do not understand, and I hope you will enlighten me."

The Imperial Advisor turned his gaze away from the old locust tree, looked at him calmly, and nodded slightly without saying a word.

Shen Moqi carefully considered her words before speaking somewhat nervously: "The Black Stone Kingdom is attacking my Great Yan, why doesn't the Grand Preceptor intervene?"

He'd been holding these words in for days. Ever since he learned about the "Imperial Advisor," he'd been pondering this question—if there truly were cultivators, if there truly were supernatural powers to move mountains and fill seas, then how could this siege have turned out like this? How could so many people have died?

The Imperial Advisor, upon hearing this, was not angry; instead, he smiled. The smile was faint, like ripples left on water by a breeze.

"It's normal for mortals to misunderstand cultivators," he said. "My current cultivation level is not high enough to defeat ten thousand men. At the eighth level of Qi Refining, I am already considered a god in the eyes of mortals, but if I were to go to the battlefield, I would die from a single arrow, and I would be trampled into mincemeat in the chaos of battle. I cannot change the course of the war."

Shen Moqi was stunned. He had considered many possibilities, but this was the one he had never thought of—the Imperial Advisor wasn't refusing to act, but rather his actions were futile?

The Imperial Preceptor seemed to have discerned his thoughts and continued, "Moreover, the other side also has cultivators. The Black Stone Kingdom is not without backing. If I were to intervene, and the other side did as well, this battle would no longer be a conflict between mortals, but a conflict between immortal sects. When cultivators fight, the surrounding area will be devastated, and the death toll will not be tens of thousands, but hundreds of thousands, even millions. For mortals, that would be the real catastrophe."

He paused, his tone becoming more serious: "There's an agreement among the immortal sects that cultivators must not wantonly slaughter mortals, or they will be condemned by the whole world. This rule has been in place for over a thousand years, and no one has dared to break it. The fact that I, a humble Daoist, can help by assessing the situation is already an exception—and that's only because the other party is unaware of it."

Shen Moqi fell silent. He thought of the Black Stone Kingdom soldiers who died in the inferno, their screams, and the nauseating stench of burning flesh. What if it had happened differently? What if the people of Yanjing had died instead?

The Imperial Advisor looked at him, seemingly knowing what he was thinking, but said nothing and continued speaking.

"The sect I belong to is called the Luo Xiao Sect. It has three kingdoms under its jurisdiction—the Great Yan, the Great Liang, and the Great Chu. Each kingdom assigns one disciple to serve as its national preceptor, with a rotation every ten years."

Shen Moqi looked up, somewhat surprised. The Imperial Advisor was actually willing to tell him these things?

"There are four purposes," the Grand Preceptor said, holding up four fingers and bending them one by one. "First, to train our disciples. Those who have just entered the path of immortality are not yet settled in their minds. Putting them in the mortal world to hone their skills is more useful than training them in the mountains. Second, to find disciples with spiritual roots and bring them into the sect. There are billions of mortals, but only one in ten thousand have spiritual roots. If we don't search for them, the sect will lose its lineage."

He bent his third finger: "Thirdly, to collect cultivation resources. There are so many mortals that some cultivation resources will inevitably be obtained by them unintentionally. Mortals will not know their uses, and almost all of them will end up being offered as tribute to the imperial court. Fourthly, to guard against evil spirits. Those scoundrels who do not follow the rules and cultivate with the essence and blood of mortals will become a great threat if no one keeps an eye on them."

Upon hearing this, Shen Moqi felt her doubts gradually dissipating. So that's how it is. The Imperial Advisor wasn't merely observing coldly; there were rules he couldn't ignore, ironclad laws he had to abide by.

He suddenly remembered something and asked, "Then the Black Stone Kingdom...which sect does it belong to? Why are they attacking the Great Yan?"

The Imperial Advisor waved his hand, interrupting him.

"You don't need to worry about any of that. Who's behind the Black Stone Kingdom is none of your concern. What's most important to you right now is—whether you have spiritual roots and whether you're suited for cultivation."

As he spoke, he took out a palm-sized jade plate from his sleeve and handed it to Shen Moqi.

The jade plate was warm and smooth, with a color like grease. The edge was engraved with four ancient characters: "Heaven," "Earth," "Black," and "Yellow." Below each character were three smaller characters: "Upper," "Middle," and "Lower." When sunlight fell on it, the inside of the jade plate seemed to shimmer and rotate, as if it were alive.

Shen Moqi had never seen this thing before, but he vaguely guessed that it was the legendary artifact used to test one's aptitude for cultivating immortality.

"Put your hands up here," the Imperial Advisor said.

Shen Moqi took a deep breath and placed her hand on it.

The jade plate felt cool to the touch, like holding a piece of ice. After a moment, a faint five-colored light appeared—red, gold, blue, green, and yellow, the five colors intertwined like a wisp of undifferentiated mist. The light settled on the "中" position below the character "黄" and remained stationary.

The Imperial Advisor frowned slightly as he looked at the light.

"Mid-grade Yellow level..." he said slowly, "but this spiritual root..."

Shen Moqi's heart tightened: "What's wrong?"

The Imperial Advisor did not answer immediately. He stared at the five-colored mist for a long time, so long that Shen Moqi's palms began to sweat, before slowly speaking:

"Your spiritual root is indeed rare. I'll tell you about it today, so listen carefully. It may not be comprehensive, but it can serve as an introduction."

He put away the jade plate, stood with his hands behind his back, and stared at the old locust tree, as if he were sorting out his thoughts.

"Cultivation, in essence, is about absorbing and refining the spiritual energy of heaven and earth for one's own use. Only those with spiritual roots can cultivate; those without spiritual roots will never be destined for the path of immortality. This is predetermined at birth. The fact that the spirit-testing plate reacted to you just now indicates that you are a person with spiritual roots."

Shen Moqi nodded, feeling slightly relieved.

"The grade of your spiritual root determines the speed at which you absorb and refine spiritual energy," the Imperial Preceptor continued. "They are divided into four grades from highest to lowest: Heaven, Earth, Profound, and Yellow. Each grade is further divided into three ranks: Upper, Middle, and Lower, for a total of twelve ranks. The difference between each rank is almost exponential. While the difference between a Upper Heaven rank and a Lower Yellow rank isn't a hundredfold, it's certainly tenfold."

He turned to look at Shen Moqi, his gaze indifferent: "And you are a mid-grade Yellow level. You're second to last."

Shen Moqi felt a sinking feeling in her heart, as if something was pressing down on her.

"Let's talk about spiritual root attributes," the Imperial Advisor continued. "Ordinary people's spiritual roots are usually four or three of the five elements: metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. When many people choose a name, they will add the missing attribute to make it complete. Two attributes are already rare, and a single attribute is one in ten thousand."

He paused, a deeper meaning appearing in his eyes: "And you—possessing all five elements. You can be said to be one in a million."

Shen Moqi was stunned. All five elements present? Shouldn't that be incredibly powerful?

But the imperial advisor's next words shattered all his illusions.

"Having all five elements seems comprehensive, but in reality, it's the most difficult to cultivate." The Imperial Preceptor stood with his hands behind his back, his voice unhurried. "Spiritual energy also has attributes. Metal, wood, water, fire, and earth, each following its own path. Those with a single spiritual root only need to refine one attribute of spiritual energy and reach the critical point to break through. Those with dual spiritual roots need both to meet the standard; neither can be lacking. And you—"

He looked at Shen Moqi and said, word by word, "You need to have all five types of spiritual energy reach the required level and maintain a balance in order to break through. Otherwise, if the spiritual energy becomes unbalanced, it will result in damage to your meridians at best, and demonic possession at worst."

Shen Moqi felt her head buzzing.

"Then...can I still get it fixed?" he asked, his voice a little dry.

"It is possible to cultivate," the Imperial Preceptor said, "but it is extremely difficult. For those of equal aptitude, the progress made in one day by cultivating with a single spiritual root would take you ten days, or even longer. Moreover, Foundation Establishment is an insurmountable chasm, and the Golden Core stage is even more distant."

Ten days are equivalent to one day for others. Foundation building is an insurmountable chasm. The Golden Elixir is a distant dream.

These words weighed on his heart like stones.

He remained silent for a long time before speaking again: "Imperial Preceptor, if I may be so bold as to ask—does one's spiritual root aptitude determine everything?"

The Imperial Advisor shook his head.

"Talent is the foundation, but not everything," he said slowly. "Comprehension, perseverance, and opportunity are all indispensable. Some people are exceptionally talented, but they are restless and impatient, and they can hardly make any progress in their lives; others have mediocre talent, but they are resilient and can go further."

He paused, a deeper meaning creeping into his voice: "Moreover, in the path of cultivation, wealth, companions, methods, and location are all crucial hurdles. Wealth refers to resources, companions to fellow cultivators, methods to cultivation techniques, and location to spiritual lands. Even with extraordinary talent, if one is born in a place where spiritual energy is depleted, one will not achieve anything remarkable. The reverse is also true."

Shen Moqi nodded thoughtfully.

"May I ask one more question—how strong can a cultivator become?"

"The Qi Refining Realm can strengthen the body and prevent all diseases," the Imperial Preceptor said calmly. "The Foundation Establishment Realm allows one to release spiritual energy and retrieve objects from a distance, with a lifespan of two hundred years. The Golden Core Realm allows one to fly through the air, covering a thousand miles in an instant, with a lifespan of five hundred years. As for the Nascent Soul Realm and above..." He shook his head, "This humble Taoist is not very clear about it either. You don't need to know about these things now, lest they disturb your mind."

Shen Moqi fell silent.

Too far away. Too vague. Too unrealistic.

But if you don't choose, even that slim chance disappears.

He sat there, two voices clashing wildly in his head.

One said: "Choose wealth and glory. Isn't life good? You have food and drink, people to serve you, and you can even help Stone and the others. Isn't that better than cultivating that ethereal immortality?"

Another said: But that's not home. Can you stay here forever? Can you forget your mother's last phone call? Can you?

My palms were sore from being pinched by fingernails.

After a long while, he raised his head, his voice somewhat dry:

"Imperial Preceptor, what will happen if my aptitude is too poor and I cannot cultivate it?"

The Imperial Advisor looked at him, a subtle hint of something else in his eyes—as if he were looking at someone standing on the edge of a cliff, unsure whether to jump.

"I will grow old, I will die," he said calmly, "just like any other mortal."

Shen Moqi gritted her teeth.

"Then... if I choose wealth and glory, will I ever see the Imperial Advisor again in this lifetime?"

The Imperial Preceptor shook his head: "This humble Taoist rarely leaves the Star Gazing Platform. If I lack the affinity for immortality, I fear I will never have the chance to meet you again in this lifetime."

Shen Moqi closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

The sunlight fell on his eyelids, a warm orange-red. He remembered the cold wind on the rooftop that night, his mother's twenty-seventh missed call, and the burning sensation in his palms the moment he fell.

When she opened her eyes again, the hesitation in them had faded.

"I choose to cultivate immortality."

Shen Moqi's voice wasn't loud, but it was clear and distinct; every word seemed to hit the bluestone pavement.

The Imperial Advisor looked at him and nodded slightly, seemingly unsurprised. He took out a thin booklet from his sleeve and handed it to Shen Moqi.

The booklet's cover was yellowed and the corners were worn, clearly indicating it had been read many times. The cover bore six characters: "Luo Xiao Basic Breathing Method".

"This is an introductory course," the Imperial Preceptor said. "Take it back and study it carefully. Practice it for one hour each morning and evening without interruption. If you have any questions, feel free to ask."

Shen Moqi took the book with both hands, opened it, and saw neat, tiny characters inside, accompanied by a simple diagram of the human body's meridians. He didn't quite understand the lines, but he felt inexplicably at ease—at least, there was a path to follow.

"One month from now, the sect will send someone to guide you into the sect," the Imperial Preceptor continued. "During this month, you will stay here with me. Practice diligently and strive to reach the Qi Refining Realm as soon as possible. Only after entering the sect will you truly embark on the path of immortality."

Shen Moqi nodded and carefully put the booklet away. The thin book was pressed against her chest, carrying a little weight and a little warmth.

He stood up and bowed deeply to the Imperial Advisor.

"Thank you, Imperial Preceptor."