Faraway Immortal

'Long Wu was a child of fate who had overcome many hurdles and struggles, eventually rising to become a god in his own right. Now he is just an outer disciple of the Moon Sword Sect, but he held a tremendous background that could easily shatter the sect into crumbles with just a single word. He had not yet discovered the full extent of his bloodline, and for now, he remained an outer disciple—a so-called 'trash' of the Moon Sword Sect. However, judging by his cultivation, it seemed that he had broken through to the Fourth Stage of the Body Purification Realm.'

As he woke up from his thoughts, he was met with the sight of a familiar face smirking at him, a blend of mockery and disdain evident in his expression. Wang Zi leaned forward with an air of feigned innocence and asked, "How am I alive? Do you dislike the fact I'm alive or what?"

Long Wu, caught off guard by such a direct question, grumbled under his breath. He forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "No, what I'm asking is, you're alive? Because most of the disciples thought you were dead; I was just shocked at the fact that you are alive."

Wang Zi's eyes narrowed, his gaze filled with disgust and contempt, a silent urge to end Long Wu's life flaring up inside him. Yet he restrained himself, knowing full well that the rules of the sect prohibited any form of combat or violence. Controlling his anger, he replied with biting sarcasm, "Oh, sorry, I mistook that you want me to die without any evidence."

Long Wu's expression hardened at Wang Zi's retort; a flicker of murderous intent crossed his features before he swallowed it down, transforming his real emotions into a mask of false congeniality. "No, no, what reason do I have to think of killing you? I just wanted you to be safe, out of goodwill."

Internally, Wang Zi seethed, labeling Long Wu a 'two-faced bastard.' However, he maintained his outward composure, smiling as he replied, "Thank you, fellow disciple Long, for considering my well-being." He bowed slightly, hoping to signal Long Wu to leave him be. But as he watched Long Wu's smile gradually turn cold, he felt an unsettling sensation wash over him. Long Wu snorted disdainfully and turned to leave, his back to Wang Zi as he walked away.

With a long sigh, Wang Zi released the tension that had built up within him. Although he had reached the Sixth Stage of Body Purification Realm, he still felt powerless—not because of Long Wu but due to the shackles imposed by the sect. If he were a truly powerful cultivator, he wouldn't have to hold back.

"The reason for the previous owner's demise stemmed from the moment Long Wu discovered the treasure that made him the protagonist of this story. In a fit of greed, Wang Zi had attempted to steal it from him, but just as he was about to end Long Wu's life, a mysterious force intervened, hurling Wang Zi off a cliff. That's where my memories end, and I became the new occupant of this body," he mused, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

After leaving the confrontation behind him, Wang Zi returned to his house then he retrieved the items he had been hiding in his dimensional pouch. Dimensional pouches, storage bags that held items in a separate space, were often given to disciples by the Supreme Elder to facilitate their duties. Wang Zi had received his pouch for becoming a disciple, with the added expectation of efficiently carrying out Yang Lin's orders.

Upon opening the pouch, he poured out its contents: two low-grade healing pill bottles, two soul orbs, three beast cores of various odd sizes, and two bottles of fairy tears. Each item held its own significance, a treasure trove of potential nestled within the confines of his dimensional pouch.

Originally, he had dried the pond water after his breakthrough, expecting a mundane reward for his efforts. But to his surprise, there was a jar full of fairy tears, shimmering with an ethereal glow, inside the cave, which he quickly stored in his dimensional pouch. The fairy tears were rare in the mortal realm; they were known throughout the realm for their potent restorative properties, capable of healing even the most grievous of wounds when used properly. He could almost feel the magical energy pulsating from the glass containers, a reminder of the life force they contained.

The soul orbs belonged to ghost-type beasts that could only be defeated using mind qi. Each orb, a small, translucent sphere, housed the essence of the spectral creatures that had roamed the darkened corners of the world. Wang Zi had reached the sixth stage of the Body Purification Stage; his mind qi was strong enough to execute three consecutive mind attacks. This ability, however, was double-edged; without the proper spells, this power was less effective. The soul orbs he had collected were from low-level ghosts, easily beaten by low-level mind qi attacks, which was precisely why each orb was smaller than a fingernail. He recalled the eerie battles he had fought against these spirits, their wails echoing in his mind, but now they would serve a greater purpose.

The beast cores, on the other hand, represented the meridians of beasts, encapsulating their innate energy. Unlike humans, who had to cultivate and condense their qi through rigorous training and meditation, beasts were born with their meridian cores, each unique in size and shape. However, their strength was capped at the tenth stage of the Body Purification Realm for low-tier beasts, while high-tier beasts had a higher capacity—limitations imposed by their unique method of qi collection, which was markedly less efficient than the purification processes favored by human cultivators.

Wang Zi pondered the fascinating differences between species as he examined the three beast cores, each one a testament to the raw power that lay dormant within.

After examining the three beast cores, he retrieved a grinding stone from his shelf, its surface worn and smooth from years of use, and began the laborious process of grinding the cores into a fine paste. He found that the texture of the beast cores was akin to jelly, yielding easily under his persistent efforts. The vibrant colors of the cores swirled together as they broke apart, revealing the hidden energies within. Once the cores were sufficiently ground, he took a jar filled with Fairy Tears that had been soaking the ghost orbs, a concoction that had absorbed the essence of the spectral beings. As he watched, the ghost cores began to dissolve into the water, transforming it into a rich crimson color, reminiscent of the deepest rubies.

As he prepared the beast cores paste, he mixed it into the crimson water, stirring the concoction for hours until the color turned a murky gray—a sign that the energies were melding together. Each swirl of the mixture released wisps of energy that danced and flickered in the air, a sign of the volatile nature of the ingredients he was working with.

Then Wang Zi closed his eyes as he summoned a flicker of flame in his hand, and then with its help, he heated the mixture where the impurities in the mixture bubbled up and disappeared into vapors, and then the murky gray texture changed into crystal-clear crimson liquid.

Wang Zi could feel the intensity of the combined energies; it was as if the very essence of the ghostly and beastly powers was merging into something entirely new. With careful precision, he continued to stir, his heart racing with anticipation for what he hoped would be a significant elixir, one that could enhance his capabilities and provide a crucial edge in the challenges that lay ahead.

He looked at the final product with a mixture of apprehension and determination. The smell was rancid, reminiscent of bat excrement, and the taste promised to be equally unpalatable, evoking memories of bitter gourds that made his stomach churn. But steeling his mind against the nausea, he gulped down the entire concoction, refusing to waste a single drop.

Afterward, he settled into a cross-legged position to cultivate, feeling the qi around him grow denser with each passing moment. "Breakthrough," he commanded silently, and as if in response to his will, a radiant light erupted in the otherwise dark room.

He opened his eyes, a wide smile spreading across his face as he examined his body. "Seventh Stage of Body Purification Stage!" he exclaimed in disbelief, his heart racing with exhilaration. A single line of that novel had altered the trajectory of his fate.

In the depths of his mind, he recalled the plot of the Everlasting Eternal Life, particularly the moment when the protagonist encountered the poison queen around the eight hundredth chapter. During that meeting, she had revealed a secret method that allowed lower-stage cultivators to rapidly increase their strength. However, that method was a one-time consumable; it would not work a second time. The protagonist used this to break through to another realm, but it was one-time usable, so he had wisely disseminated the knowledge among his close allies in the mortal realm, earning their worship and admiration for his generosity.

Wang Zi knew he held a powerful piece of information—an alchemical recipe that could elevate cultivators. But it was knowledge that must be guarded carefully, for if it were to spread too far too quickly, the poison queen would not hesitate to bury him alive.

With determination guiding his every action, he resolved to ensure that no evidence of the recipe could be traced back to him. After cleaning up the remnants of his concoction, he washed himself and prepared for bed, finally allowing the exhaustion of the day to take over.

As dawn broke, he awoke with renewed vigor and set out for the inner sect court to meet Yang Xin. However, he was abruptly stopped by a middle-aged man who appeared just in front of him, blocking his path. The man's cold tone sent a shiver down Wang Zi's spine as he interrogated, "Disciple Wang, right?"

Wang Zi's eyes widened in surprise as recognition hit him. "Elder Han!" he exclaimed, remembering the man from his memories. Amidst many characters, Elder Han stood out as a primary character, initially pivotal in the story's foundation. However, as the narrative progressed, he was seemingly relegated to the sidelines, a mere cannon fodder destined to be discarded in the later parts of the plot. Despite this, his presence lingered as one of the significant figures, particularly in the novel's early stages.

He was also a second-grade medical practitioner in the medical hall of the sect, and Wang Zi couldn't fathom why the elder was looking for him.

Elder Han's impatient demeanor snapped Wang Zi back to reality as he continued, "Are you Wang Zi or not?"

With a slight hesitation, Wang Zi nodded his head, anxiety bubbling within him.

"Good," Elder Han said curtly before he pulled Wang Zi along, launching into the sky as they flew away, leaving Wang Zi to wonder what awaited him next.