Qingyun Continent, Changsheng Dao Sect.
Five mountain ranges stretched endlessly, their lofty peaks shrouded in a swirling mist that obscured the full grandeur of the scene. Occasionally, a crane or mystical beast would glide through the clouds, while cultivators riding magical artifacts streaked across the sky like rainbows piercing the mist.
"Everyone, what you see before you are the Five Elemental Spirit Veins. They form the foundation of our sect's outer gate and the root of this blessed land. After testing your spirit roots here, you will know whether you possess a destiny tied to immortality."
Suspended amidst the mist was a massive flying boat, hovering silently in the heavens. On its deck stood an elder garbed in robes of black and gold, his voice filled with pride as he addressed the crowd.
Behind him were hundreds of young men and women, descendants of aristocratic families and royal dynasties from across Qingyun Continent. Clad in luxurious silk, the boys exuded strength and vigor while the girls were graceful and enchanting. These were the elites, most likely to awaken a spiritual root.
But none of this mattered to Lu Bingxuan. He wasn't even qualified to step onto the flying boat's deck.
Instead, he sat cramped inside the cabin along with other boys and girls of similar age, all around sixteen or seventeen years old, their clothes betraying their humble origins.
Most of them were pressed eagerly against the windows, gazing at the mist-shrouded landscape outside with faces full of excitement and wonder. Though the space was tight, no one complained. If anything, the occasional glimpse of a mystical crane or beast drew awestruck exclamations from the group.
For most of them, the chance to see such splendor was beyond their wildest dreams. Normally, even if they were the right age, they would have to endure days of travel by ox cart or carriage to reach Changsheng Dao Sect. Riding a flying boat was an unimaginable luxury, made possible only because their sect steward had connections with the elder piloting the vessel.
Outside the storeroom, things were less crowded. Only about a dozen young people with slightly better attire stood waiting. Among them sat a man in a black robe, positioned in the place of honor. This was the steward responsible for recruiting talented mortals to the sect.
"Don't be nervous," the steward said cheerfully, addressing the youths before him. "With my eye, I'd say most of you have the potential to awaken a spiritual root. At worst, you'll get a lower-grade root."
His tone was pleasant, but his thoughts betrayed his true feelings.
Spirit roots were divided into seven grades: Mortal, Ordinary, Lower, Middle, Upper, Superior, and Heavenly.
The difference between each grade was vast, and while it might not show at first, the higher one's cultivation, the more insurmountable the gap became.
As the foremost sect of Qingyun Continent, Changsheng Dao Sect held an Ascension Conference every decade, inviting those of age to test their spiritual roots. Dedicated stewards were dispatched to remote areas to recruit those who might otherwise miss the chance due to distance or hardship, showcasing the sect's magnanimity.
However, out of the tens of thousands who came to test each time, the majority were found to possess Mortal Roots, incapable of cultivation.
Among the remaining few, most awakened Ordinary Roots—so poor that even drawing in spiritual energy was a struggle. Achieving the minimum standard for the outer sect, a Lower-Grade Root, was a one-in-a-million chance. Middle-Grade Roots were even rarer, typically reserved for the outer sect, unless one exhibited extraordinary talent later.
In smaller sects, an Upper-Grade Root was worshipped as though it were a Heavenly Root. Even at Changsheng Dao Sect, though rare, Superior Roots appeared at every Ascension Conference.
Only the Heavenly Root, also known as the Immortal Root, was a treasure beyond reach. Appearing once in decades, it allowed cultivation to progress unimpeded until the Nascent Soul stage.
Most of the youths present had earned their place with hefty bribes. Otherwise, the steward wouldn't have bothered flattering them.
"Thank you for your kind words, Steward Liu," a portly youth in fine clothes said with a fawning smile.
"Wu Gongzi, your features speak of great fortune. I'd wager you've got the makings of a Middle-Grade Earth Root!" the steward replied, matching the youth's flattery.
As the two exchanged pleasantries, the flying boat hummed and came to a gentle halt.
In that moment, Lu Bingxuan silently invoked his system.
"System, clock in!"
[Ding! Congratulations, Host, for clocking in at Qingyun Continent, Changsheng Dao Sect!][Reward: Random Heavenly Spirit Root!]
The system's announcement filled him with overwhelming relief, and he couldn't help but weep with joy.
"What's wrong with you? No need to get so worked up—we've only just arrived," someone nearby said, puzzled by his tears.
"You don't understand!" Lu Bingxuan wiped his eyes and began mentally berating the system.
"Five years! You d*mn system! Do you know what I've been through?"
After transmigrating, Lu Bingxuan had awakened a protagonist's fate—tragic and miserable. Orphaned and destitute, he wandered the streets, surviving on scraps. With insights from his past life, he recognized the existence of immortals and began posing as a prodigy.
His charade earned him meals and eventually the attention of a minor sect. But their tests revealed him to be a trash Mortal Root, incapable of cultivation.
It was then that the system awakened, offering him salvation.
But its first clock-in location was Changsheng Dao Sect, over a hundred thousand miles away.
As a mortal, he endured five years of hardship to get there. Five long years of begging, scavenging, evading bandits, and narrowly escaping death. Even Tang Sanzang had companions on his pilgrimage; Lu Bingxuan had only the system's cold interface to keep him company.
Many times, he thought it was toying with him. Yet his determination never wavered, and after crossing half of Qingyun Continent, he finally reached his destination.
"System, activate the Random Heavenly Spirit Root!"
[Congratulations, Host! You have obtained a Heavenly Water Root!]
"Water Root?" Lu Bingxuan paused, but quickly dismissed his doubts. With the system's support, even the heavens would bow.
Finally, he wouldn't be cast out for being a trash Mortal Root.
As the power of the Heavenly Root coursed through him, he shivered, feeling a faint connection to the world's water energy.
He gazed outside, anticipation growing. The Ascension Conference awaited, and he would make the five years of suffering worthwhile.