"This isn't that our five great sects are hard to track down. It's simply that ever since the ancient, chaotic ages, passing on our legacy has been an enormous headache. Powerful immortal arts always have a profound reason at their foundation—and I've already explained to you the various types of spiritual roots," the gray-robed elder said with a bitter smile.
After pondering those words, Li Yan replied, "Mixed spiritual root, Profound spiritual root, Earth spiritual root, Heaven spiritual root, Holy spiritual root, and Extraordinary spiritual root."
The elder nodded. "Yes, exactly those—but note, those classifications apply to other sects. Our five ancient sects were each founded by our forebears with one very different requirement: those who wish to learn our immortal arts must be unlike disciples of any other sect. That very difference is why our techniques are so powerful."
Li Yan nodded in understanding. Though he was young, he grasped the basic principle: nothing good just falls from the sky. Every great thing must have a solid underlying basis. He said nothing more, waiting for the elder to continue.
The old man remarked, "From the names of our five sects, you should already be able to guess the elemental attribute to which each is most attuned."
Li Yan answered, "For example, the Yimu Immortal Sect must be based on wood—so only those with a strong affinity for wood qi are suited to its teachings. The Dinghuo Immortal Sect, then, would focus on fire, attracting those whose sensitivity to fire qi is strongest. And, naturally, your Guishui Immortal Sect caters to those most attuned to water."
Sighing, the elder explained, "You've only got the easy part right. Although the immortal arts our five sects practice correspond to the dominant element you sense, they differ from every other sect in one critical aspect—we don't require a Holy spiritual root. Instead, we need someone who possesses all five elemental attributes simultaneously."
The elder paused and looked at Li Yan. The young man's face registered only a brief moment of surprise before he furrowed his brow in thought—clearly weighing the meaning of his words. The elder mused internally, "This child is steady and reflective."
In Li Yan's mind, the implication was clear. The elder was saying that their sects require a disciple who can sense all the fundamental elements—metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. And more than that, the five elemental affinities must be arranged in order according to the law of mutual generation. Recall: the way of the five elements is "water nourishes wood, wood fuels fire, fire produces earth, earth generates metal, and metal returns to water"—a continuous, endless cycle. In a suitable disciple, the strength of these elemental attributes must diminish in the proper order. For instance, for the Xinjin Immortal Sect—which centers on metal—the ideal disciple's internal ranking should be "metal first, then water, followed by wood, fire, and earth." In other words, the most strongly sensed qi should be metal, then water, and so on. If, say, wood qi were stronger than water qi, that candidate would not be eligible to learn the Xinjin arts. Similarly, for our Guishui Immortal Sect the ranking must be "water, then wood, fire, earth, and finally metal"—all in perfect descending order. Only then can a disciple properly cultivate our sect's immortal techniques.
Li Yan listened intently. From the elder's words he realized that even in the Mortal Realm—where having any spiritual root is extremely rare (perhaps only one in 100,000 people)—finding a candidate with a mixed spiritual root is even scarcer. And on top of that, among these very few individuals one must pick someone whose five elemental sensitivities follow the precise, natural order. The mathematics alone make it seem a matter of destiny—even in the Immortal-Spirit Realm, such candidates are few and far between. Li Yan couldn't help wondering how these sects managed to pass on their legacy.
The elder continued, "That is our greatest secret. Although we require disciples with the mixed spiritual root, it isn't the common kind. Sure, a mixed spiritual root means one is sensitive to metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. But our requirement is even stricter: not only must a candidate have all five, but the intensities of these must obey the law of mutual generation. For example, for the Xinjin Immortal Sect the ideal order is 'metal, water, wood, fire, earth'—with metal qi the strongest, then water, then wood, fire, and earth in descending strength. For our Guishui Immortal Sect, the proper sequence is 'water, wood, fire, earth, metal.' If even one element is out of order, the candidate cannot cultivate our arts."
Li Yan's eyes widened as he considered the odds. Even if one in every hundred thousand in the Mortal Realm has any kind of spiritual root, filtering that down to someone with a mixed spiritual root—and then one whose five elemental affinities are arranged perfectly—is nearly impossible. The numbers, as Li Yan knew from his limited studies, suggest that among billions only one would qualify. He marveled silently, wondering how such a system could ever be maintained—even in the comparatively scant population of the Immortal-Spirit Realm.
The elder sighed. "That is why each generation of our five sects must expend immense effort to find a successor—often we manage to secure only one or a handful. Our own cultivation, at the early stages, might only take a few years, but as we progress the seclusion lasts decades or even centuries. What is a hundred years of seclusion to us, but a fleeting moment?"
He continued, "Because of the lengthy cultivation periods, the time we can spend searching for suitable successors is very limited. Our expeditions are sporadic, and as a result, we seldom appear before the mortal world. Unlike other sects that recruit anyone with a spiritual root, our method of deliberately seeking out candidates using our divine perception is necessary. That special mixed spiritual root is precisely why passing on our legacy remains such an agonizing challenge."
Li Yan fell silent, suddenly reminded of something. The elder's eyes twinkled as he noticed the young man's expression—clearly, Li Yan had recalled a remark from his own teacher. The old man smiled gently and said, "Your teacher—what was his name?—is not one of us. All that talk about the 'Mu Ying Sect' needing a special constitution is nothing more than a ruse, a way of hiding the real fact that they are desperately trying to find recruits with valid spiritual roots. They want everyone to think it's merely a unique recruiting condition of a secluded martial arts sect."
Li Yan was left speechless. Doubt began to stir in his mind regarding his own teacher. If, before accepting him as a disciple, his teacher had already gone to such lengths to hide the truth about spiritual roots from the world, then continuing to conceal that truth now seemed—well—disingenuous.
The elder knew exactly what Li Yan was thinking. With a weary sigh, he added, "That Junior Master, although his divine power may seem insignificant to most cultivators, is in fact a force to be reckoned with. We'll discuss him later."
Li Yan nodded, aware that the old man still had more to disclose.
The elder went on, "Our five sects rarely show themselves to the world. Firstly, our numbers are exceedingly few—unlike other immortal sects that recruit any soul with a spiritual root. Secondly, in the harsh world of immortal cultivation, where the strong prey on the weak, a lone cultivator without formidable power is likely to be killed or robbed at every turn. Therefore, when we send someone out to seek a successor, they must be sufficiently powerful to protect themselves. Typically they need to have at least reached the Integration stage. If they venture out when too weak, they'll likely be wiped out—and we couldn't afford that, given how rare our people are."
He continued, "As our sect's members are so hard to come by, over time our numbers have dwindled even further. In my own era, our five sects began sending out emissaries as early as the later stages of Spirit-Splitting. Fortunately, our immortal arts are so mighty that even when confronted by several opponents of the same level from other sects, dispatching them is as easy as slaughtering chickens. Even facing an enemy a full stage above us doesn't necessarily mean defeat."
A note of pride shone through as the elder added, "The reason we start our search for successors as early as the later Spirit-Separation stage is twofold. First, out of sheer necessity—finding disciples is incredibly difficult. And second, among those higher than the Integration stage, cultivators rarely display themselves. They're mostly busy trying to further their own power, spending long periods in seclusion or venturing into extremely dangerous regions in search of opportunities. Unless their own sect is facing a mortal crisis, they won't appear publicly. So when we do venture out, we struggle to maintain even a modicum of protection. And, for safety's sake, we never reveal our sect's identity. We must avoid attracting unnecessary trouble—especially since many lower-level cultivators have long coveted our immortal arts. That is why the outside world only ever sees our experts when they're at the Integration, Tribulation, or even the Mahayana stages."
He pressed on, "Even with those precautions, finding a proper successor is nearly impossible. Sometimes we must traverse vast continents—or even cross the boundary between realms—to locate a protege. And in so doing, we inevitably encounter far stronger enemies and chaotic spatial disturbances. Many of our best experts, who set out to search for successors, never return. They are lost out there, and that only deepens our scarcity."
The elder's voice grew somber. He slowly lifted his gaze to the sky, his expression tinged with wistfulness. "My own Guishui bloodline—two million years ago, it was reduced to just me. The other four sects, I suspect, disappeared long before I emerged."
A wave of melancholy passed over his features as he recalled the past. "Back then, though there were occasional conflicts between our five sects, we had been united since the ancient days—growing together, practicing together, and wandering the world as one. Now, as I wake into this age, it all feels as if it were nothing more than a dream."
At the mention of "two million years ago," Li Yan's calm expression faltered in disbelief. How could anyone live for hundreds of millions of years? Such talk sounded utterly fantastical—yet hearing it from the elder stirred within him a reluctant sense of belief, leaving him truly astonished.
After a long pause, the gray-robed elder shook his head lightly—as if trying to dispel the memories—and then looked into Li Yan's eyes with a trace of relief. "Two million-plus years ago, I closed myself away for a hundred years. When I finally emerged, the other four sects were long gone—nothing but overgrown ruins remained. Only the Condensation Immortal of the Yimu Immortal Sect left behind a jade slip, telling me that after her reemergence she had reached the Void Refinement stage and waited here for seventy years. The other three sects sent out their searches, but from that time on, we never had any contact."
The old man's face fell further; his figure began to blur, and his features lost their clarity—even though Li Yan hardly noticed the changes.
After a moment of silence, the elder asked, "Do you have any questions?"
Li Yan hesitated before asking, "What is a jade slip?"
The elder paused, then chuckled ruefully. "Heh, I had forgotten that you know nothing about the immortal world." In every immortal circle, basic knowledge of cultivation is common—but you, Li Yan, are a complete novice.
"Let me explain briefly. A jade slip is much like a book in the mortal world. It is made from a special, jade-like material that hardly ever gets damaged. Unlike paper books, the text, images, and sounds on a jade slip can only be inscribed by a cultivator using their divine spirit. In short, as long as the jade slip remains intact, its contents can be preserved permanently—far surpassing the longevity of paper. And as for divine spirit: it is essentially one's spiritual power or will. When cultivators refine this force to a certain level, it takes on a tangible form. Your current spiritual power has only just begun to form a divine spirit—it's still too weak to have any substance or to be projected outside your body. Typically, by the third level of the Qi Condensation stage, one begins to form a divine spirit, though its reach is limited to a few dozen feet. At that point, the divine spirit can be projected externally, allowing one to inscribe text, images, or sounds onto a jade slip. Moreover, a developed divine spirit can even function as an extension of one's eyes or ears—to see or hear the world around you. The stronger your divine spirit, the greater its range. For instance, that Junior Master you've heard about has already reached the third level of Qi Condensation; he can project his divine spirit several dozen feet, and with it, he can sense what you are doing or saying—often even more clearly than with his own eyes or ears."