Beneath the Zuowang (Sitting-Forgotten) Peak of Lianxia Mountain, the morning mist still clung to the earth.
Two young boys, each with a pair of heavy water buckets, were weaving their way up the mountain path.
Both were about eight or nine summers old, dressed in coarse Taoist robes, their faces still brimming with childish innocence.
The slightly taller one, Junior Brother Xun, had fair skin and delicate eyebrows and clear eyes, but with a few streaks of black soot smeared across his cheeks, he looked a bit comical.
His brother in hardship, Ling Ji, was darker and leaner, and though he was still a child, sorrow seemed to weigh heavy on his little face, as if some ancient grief had taken root in his heart.
Each of them carried a pair of buckets almost as tall as they were but twice as thick.
Occasionally, the buckets clanged together with a metallic ring.
Though their steps were unsteady, neither boy looked truly tired. Their faces were dry, their breaths even. They still found strength to chatter and joke as they worked.
A heavy sigh suddenly slipped from Ling Ji's chest.
"A whole month gone, and all I've done is trade chopping wood for hauling water. Give it three more moons, and they'll probably have us breaking stones. Ten years of that, and maybe—just maybe—I'll finally get into the Hall of Beginnings, where I'll grind away for another ten years... just for a chance that some immortal master might notice me and take me in—as a tea-serving boy."
Junior Brother Xun laughed. "A tea-serving boy? By then, you'll be too old to be called a boy!"
Ling Ji shot him a sideways glare. "I know that! But even if I can't be a boy servant, I could still be a servant. And even a servant is a hundred times better than what I am now…" He trailed off, suddenly aware he might have spoken too boldly. "You don't mind me saying that, do you, Junior Brother?"
"Mind?" Li Xun's smile was easy. "Senior Brother Ling Ji, do you want the truth… or a sweet lie?"
Seeing his junior brother's playful tone, Ling Ji relaxed. "The truth…" he said, then hesitated. "But maybe tell me the lie too—just in case?"
Little did he know, the moment those words had left his mouth, his junior brother's face had gone a shade paler — just for a second before he had masked it with his usual calm smile.
Li Xun let out a mischievous giggle, then suddenly turned serious.
"Senior Brother Shan has exceptional talent. That he could escape his status as a slave and set foot on the path to immortality — that's a once-in-a-lifetime stroke of fortune. In the pursuit of immortality, it's all about courage and seizing opportunities. Besides, they say some hear the Great Dow earlier than others, and each has their own area of expertise. If I cannot understand this principle and am always caught up in petty comparisons, then what point is there for me to stay up here on this mountain?"
Ling Ji was struck silent by these righteous and solemn words, his heart filling with respect. But soon after, suspicion crept into his mind: Was that the truth, or just a sweet lie?
Li Xun only smiled, quickening his pace.
Ahead, a clear brook gurgled and spilled into a wide pool, several dozen feet across. The sound of the flowing water filled the air. Near the pool, a dozen young Daoist boys were laughing and playing, their voices lively and loud.
Ling Ji hurried after. "Junior Brother Xun! Tell me! Was it the truth or a lie?"
His loud yelling caught the attention of the boys by the pool. One of them snickered and called back with a teasing drawl, "Ling Ji, don't worry! The Punishment Hall will start soon—"
He had dragged out his words in a long, exaggerated tone, making his companions burst into laughter. Then, he and some others quickly dragged over iron barrels and rocks, climbing up and perching like they were judges.—pulling these over-the-top scary faces, like demons straight out of hell.
The rest just stood around cracking up, hyping the whole dumb thing.
By the time Xun and Ling Ji reached them, the Judges cried out in unison, "State your grievance, or be silent forever!"
Ling Ji, never one to miss a game, made a long, mournful face and wailed, "Oh mighty lords, I've been wronged! Junior Brother Xun tricked me... I don't even know if he's still tricking me!"
The judges roared with laughter, some clutching their sides, one boy laughing so hard he tumbled headfirst into the water, splashing all around.
The game soon fell apart as all the boys crowded around, begging Ling Ji to retell the whole story. He had a sharp memory, and he repeated the talk word for word, even imitating Li Xun's tone so well that even Li Xun himself had to laugh.
Li Xun said nothing at first, just carried his buckets to the water's edge and knelt to clean them. As he dipped one into the pool, a few boys sidled closer, teasing:
"Brother Xun, tell us! Was it the truth you spoke, or a lie? Are you some saint?"
Li Xun chuckled without looking up. "A saint? Since when is becoming a sage so easy?"
"So it was a lie then?"
"Maybe." Li Xun turned to them, laughing again.
The others hooted and made a racket, but Xun only scratched his head, looking a little sheepish.
The crowd drew out their voices, jeering and hooting.
Yet Li Xun didn't seem annoyed. He just scratched his head, looking a little sheepish. "Honestly, it's hard for me to feel no resentment at all. Just think—Senior Brother Shan has already glimpsed the mysteries of the immortal path. His lifespan stretches for centuries, and eternal life itself isn't beyond reach. Meanwhile, I... I still have to grind away step by step, shaping myself into something worthwhile. We're the same age, yet our fortunes on the immortal path couldn't be more different. How could I not be jealous?"
And indeed, he wasn't the only one feeling that way. The faces of the boys around him flickered with envy and longing—at their age, their emotions were too raw to hide. To them, Li Xun's words rang utterly true, and they nodded fervently in agreement.
But then Li Xun continued, "Still, what I said earlier wasn't a lie—the immortal path cares only for opportunity and perseverance, not one's birth or status. Senior Brother Shan's example is right before us. Everyone's seen it.
"In the eyes of the immortal masters, the wealth and glory of the mortal world are truly like dirt. What does it matter if you're drowning in gold and jade, exalted beyond measure? A hundred years pass, and all that splendor turns to cold ashes. How could it compare to the great freedom of the immortals—feeding on wind and dew, wandering unfettered between heaven and earth, untouched by death?
"Every one of us was chosen from tens of thousands in the mortal world for our innate talent. That alone is why the immortal masters brought us up this mountain and granted us this chance at immortality. Just that fact makes us a hundred times more fortunate than kings and generals."
"As for Senior Brother Shan, he is the exception among exceptions—a talent that's one in ten thousand. Comparing ourselves to him is just pointless. Instead of looking at where we were born, it's better to sharpen ourselves, to push each other further along the path of immortality."
The others nodded in agreement—Junior Brother Li Xun's words made perfect sense. As expected of someone from a noble lineage, his insight was unmatched. While they might all be equals in their pursuit of the Dao, when it came to wisdom and understanding, none of them could measure up to him.
These children were junior disciples of the Mingxin Sword Sect, a prestigious immortal sect based on Lianxia Mountain. Known as the Number One Sword Sect in the East, the Mingxin Sword Sect dominated the cultivation world with its unparalleled mastery of the sword.
The Tongxuan Realm had only just recovered from the recent Four-Nine Heavenly Tribulation, and many sects were still recovering. To replenish their strength, they had been scouring the mortal realm for promising disciples, hoping to pass on their arts and preserving their traditions.
Li Xun and the others had been recruited under these circumstances. Their backgrounds varied—some came from poor families, others from wealthy households, and a few from scholarly lineages. But among them, Li Xun's origins were the most illustrious.
He was born into the imperial family of the mortal world, as the eldest grandson of Prince Fu — who is the younger brother of the current emperor — and destined to become the future heir to Prince Fu's title, enjoying the pinnacle of honor, luxury, and prosperity.
But fate had other plans. The old Prince Fu, senile and obsessed with immortality, had been duped into sending his grandson to an immortal mountain for blessings. The journey never happened—instead, Li Xun mistakenly ingested a poisonous pill from a demonic cultivator, leaving him on the brink of death.
At the critical moment, Li Xun was saved by a disciple of the Mingxin Sword Sect. Observing that he possessed a strong natural aptitude, and with the old Prince's decision already settled, they brought Li Xun back to the sect and accepted him as a disciple.
The whole affair was full of twists and turns, and given Li Xun's royal status—not to mention his brush with death—it quickly became a topic of gossip. Within three months of his arrival, the story had spread across the mountain. Even Sect Master Qingming knew there was a junior disciple of imperial blood among their ranks.
Yet despite his noble upbringing, Li Xun was surprisingly humble for his age. Gentle, composed, and never one to flaunt his status, he got along well with his peers—as today's playful banter showed.
As junior disciples, their training was still basic. Each day, they practiced breathing exercises to build their foundations and carried heavy buckets of water up the mountain to strengthen their bodies.
At ten years old, they would undergo the "Mountain Opening" trial—a formal test of endurance and willpower under their masters' supervision.
Those who succeeded would advance to the Hall of Beginnings, where they would shed their mortal limitations and truly step onto the path of cultivation, learning directly from their masters.
But nearly half would fail. Their memories would be erased, and they'd be sent back to the mortal world, forgotten.
Li Xun flung his two iron buckets into the pond's center. They spun once before sinking with a heavy splash. The others chuckled.
"Practicing again, Junior Brother Xun?"
Li Xun smiled faintly in response. Stripping off his outer robe, he stood in just his shorts, his fair skin—still soft and unweathered despite months of training—glistening in the sunlight.
Just as he bent to dive into the water, a shrill screech tore through the sky.
The disciples looked up—a golden sword light wobbled wildly in the air before plummeting straight toward them!
Frozen they stood frozen, only snapping out of their daze when the sword light was nearly upon them. With a collective yelp, they scattered in all directions.
But Li Xun, still waist-deep in the pond, had no time to react. He tried to push himself backward but lost his balance, plunging fully into the water with a splash.
"Look out—!"
The newcomer let out a series of startled shouts as the sword light suddenly dissipated. A figure tumbled through the air, flipping head over heels a dozen times before catching himself on a slender tree at the pond's edge. With one last graceful twist, he landed firmly on his feet.
Ling Ji and the others had already thrown themselves flat on the ground in panic. But when no catastrophe followed—just an anticlimactic landing—they exchanged sheepish glances and slowly got back up.
One sharp-eyed boy recognized the newcomer first and blurted out in surprise, "It's Senior Brother Shan!"
The moment he said it, the others erupted in chatter.
Li Xun, still sitting in the shallows, looked up at the figure onshore. The young man glanced back at him, blinked, then let out an exaggerated gasp.
"Well, well—if it isn't the little prince!" The initial surprise in his voice sounded genuine enough, but the last two words stretched out with deliberate theatricality, dripping with playful mockery.
Li Xun only smiled warmly. "So it is Senior Brother Shan! It's been a while!"
His current state was far from dignified—stranded in the shallow water, clad only in soaked shorts, his hair plastered messily to his face.
Senior Brother Shan wore a robe woven from some unknown silken material, its color a pale blue-green, adorned here and there with a few drifting cloud patterns. If you looked closely, you would see the clouds were alive, flowing slow as mist on the river, emitting a faint luminescence.
Li Xun didn't even try to hide the envy in his eyes. He just sat there in the water, staring covetously at the magnificent robe, completely forgetting to stand up.
Noticing his expression, Senior Brother Shan couldn't help but feel immensely pleased. With a laugh, he teased, "Little prince, why are you still sitting in the water? It's not particularly hot today, is it?"
Only then did Li Xun snap out of his daze, his cheeks flushing pink as he hurriedly rose to his feet. "Senior Brother, you flatter me too much," he said sheepishly. "Since entering the sect, worldly titles have become meaningless. There's no need to mention such things anymore."
"Oh? So that's how our junior brother thinks!" Senior Brother Shan's round face broke into an even more self-satisfied smile as he regarded the former young prince who was now his junior in the sect.
Senior Brother Shan, named Zhi, was fifteen years old. He had originally come to the mountain at the same time as Li Xun - more accurately, he had been Li Xun's personal serving boy back in the prince's household.
While the arrangement was meant to provide Li Xun with a familiar companion on the mountain, fate had other plans. Upon their arrival, Shan Zhi had caught the eye of Ming Song Daoist, one of the renowned "Lianxia Seven Swords" and a leading second-generation disciple of the sect.
Recognizing that Shan Zhi's natural talents perfectly suited a unique technique he had developed, Ming Song had immediately taken him as a direct disciple - without even consulting Li Xun's opinion. Overnight, the former slave became a core sect member, his status now far surpassing that of Li Xun and other junior disciples.
Their positions had been completely reversed. The noble prince's grandson was now a water-fetching novice, while the tea-serving servant had become an immortal cultivator.
Such were the strange turns of fate.
Three months into their sect life, the gap between them had only widened. While Li Xun was still at the most basic stage of qi cultivation, Shan Zhi could already clumsily fly on a sword - a difference as vast as that between heaven and earth.
Yet in Shan Zhi's heart, this former "young master" represented an embarrassing chapter of his past. Worried that people might gossip behind his back, and driven by emotions even he didn't fully understand, he had actually come to resent Li Xun. That's why in these three months, even when he had free time, he had avoided seeing him.
But this unexpected encounter, standing face-to-face and hearing Li Xun's gentle, respectful tone while remembering their past interactions, suddenly made Shan Zhi reconsider. This Li Xun wasn't so bad after all - polite, sincere, and proper. All those schemes he'd imagined for humiliating his former master now seemed unnecessarily cruel.
A teenager's feelings are fickle—one moment, they can't stand the sight of someone, and the next, they decide that person might actually be worth befriending.
At the very least, it wouldn't hurt to have him around to flatter me now and then. With that thought, Shan Zhi's smile deepened.
"Junior Brother, your insight far surpasses mine. If you say so, then it must be true! My apologies—these past few months, my master's training has been relentless. Even if I'd wanted to visit you, I simply had no time. But once I'm free, I'll make sure to stop by your place.
"Oh, and I'll bring some elixirs to help with your foundation-building."
Li Xun's face lit up, and he hastily bowed. "Many thanks for your generosity, Senior Brother!"
"Don't mention it! But, uh…" Shan Zhi eyed Li Xun's current state and couldn't help but ask, "What's with the… outfit?"
Blushing, Li Xun chuckled. "Please don't laugh, Senior Brother. I was just trying to meditate underwater—using the pressure to train. That's why…."
"That pond's freezing cold, Junior Brother. Take care not to catch a chill." Then, with a smug grin, he added, "So, what do you think of my Cloud Robe?"
"Even in the imperial palace, I've never seen such a treasure!" Li Xun gushed.
Shan Zhi practically glowed with delight. "You've got a sharp eye! This robe is woven from Jadefrost Silkworm threads from Mount Zuowang—immune to fire and water, and embroidered with cloud patterns that form a powerful defensive array. All the senior disciples wear them. I've got a few spares… How about I gift you one?"
Li Xun nearly jumped out of the water. "You mean it?!"
"Of course!"
The sheer reverence in Li Xun's gaze sent Shan Zhi's ego soaring like a balloon—inflating rapidly, filling the void left by years of insecurity, and lifting his confidence to new heights.
"I'll bring it tonight! And from now on, if you ever need help, just come to me. In a few years, once your cultivation's strong enough, I'll even ask Master to take you in as his disciple. Then we'll be true brothers in the Dao! Hahaha!"
Li Xun laughed along, though his mirth was still tinged with bashfulness.
And that only made Shan Zhi relish his superiority even more. Satisfied, he clapped Li Xun on the shoulder. "Keep working hard! Now, I've got training to attend to—I'll see you tonight!"
Amid Li Xun's effusive thanks, Shan Zhi leaped into the air with a laugh. A flash of sword light carried him skyward, streaking toward the mountain peaks.
Even then, he couldn't resist glancing back—just in time to catch the unmistakable envy shining in Li Xun's eyes.
Grinning, he urged his sword faster, and in an instant, the little pond vanished from sight.