Chapter 66: Clans
Chapter 66: Clans
In the West Extremes, Tai Chu Mountain.
This mountain wasn’t originally named Tai Chu Mountain, but after the rise of Tai Chu Immortal Gate, its old name faded into obscurity.
“So many people?”
Du Fan trailed behind Old La Ta, eyes wide as they navigated the bustling crowd.
Tai Chu’s recruitment truly threw open the immortal gates. Anyone reaching Tai Chu Mountain could attempt the trials. Yet most people feared risking failure. Though whispers of Tai Chu’s recruitment spread far, many dismissed their own chances before even trying. They’d mutter about it over meals, then return to their routines, cursing their luck. That’s why so few wandering cultivators dared come—over three-quarters here were royal recommendations. Still, the sheer crowd was staggering.
“Master, what now?”
“We take the test.”
Old La Ta strode straight to the examination area without hesitation.
Just then, the royal family’s third group arrived.
Zhao Zheng, heir to Prince Xing, stepped from his carriage. Gazing up at the towering peak, ambition swelled in his chest.
_Tai Chu Mountain lives up to its legends. I’ll forge my own path—reach Transformation God cultivation without leaning on the Supreme Heavenly Book!_
At the mountain’s base, all were treated the same.
Zhao Zheng received no privileges as a prince’s son. Even royalty queued like ordinary folk here.
“Fail.”
Zhang Tu slumped at his station, listlessly checking candidates. A black stone sat before him—each hopeful touched it to test their “aptitude.” This lazy method was Zhang Tu’s invention. Left holding the bag when Zuo Meng abandoned administrative duties, he’d repurposed The Immortal Palace’s old core-member test, tweaking it for mass screenings.
After an hour, Old La Ta and Du Fan reached the front.
The disheveled cultivator approached first. Before he could speak, Zhang Tu drawled, “Hand on the stone.”
Age or appearance meant nothing here—Zhang Tu had seen nonagenarian beggars attempt this.
Old La Ta pressed his palm to the black stone.
Nothing happened.
Though he possessed cultivation, Tai Chu’s new system—crafted by Zuo Meng—required different energies. The stone remained inert.
“Next.”
Old La Ta bowed and retreated. Du Fan stepped forward without prompting, placing his hand on the stone.
_Hum!_
The stone quivered. A dark-green centipede shot from its surface.
“Hm. Decent.”
Zhang Tu gestured to the side, suddenly alert.
“Pass. Move there.”
Du Fan blinked, then beamed, turning to seek Old La Ta’s reaction.
“Master…”
“Come together.”
Zhang Tu glanced at Old La Ta and waved his hand, accepting both into the gate.
_One more won’t matter,_ he thought, noting Mr. Xue’s easygoing demeanor.
“Thank you, Elder.”
Old La Ta bowed deeply, barely containing his excitement.
The two admissions lifted the crowd’s spirits. Some later applicants feigned pitiful expressions, but Zhang Tu ignored them entirely. He set simple rules, delegated the entrance examination to a disciple from The Immortal Palace, and retreated to cultivate.
Two days later,
Tai Chu Immortal Gate closed its gates.
Headmaster Xue Chuan declared the sect full, postponing new admissions until the following year.
“Another… world?”
Passing through the glowing “Tai Chu” archway, the new disciples entered their sect.
Zhao Zheng gaped at the shifting landscapes, throat dry.
_A small world as our foundation? Not even the imperial court could achieve this!_ Prince Xing’s claims now rang true. Nearby, Old La Ta and his companion stood slack-jawed, never imagining such realm-crossing magic.
“Real cultivation grounds! This is the Immortal Realm!”
Old La Ta trembled. Stories of hidden immortal domains had circulated for generations, but only now—with cultivators walking among mortals—did the tales gain credence.
A sharp voice interrupted their awe.
“Obey Tai Chu’s laws while on the mountain.” A stern man in slate-gray robes appeared. “I’m Regulation Elder Luo San.”
The crowd recognized him as Luo San—Yu Ruyi’s former lieutenant in The Immortal Palace.
“Our sect, founded by the peerless Mr. Xue, has rules.” Luo San’s Golden Core aura crashed over them like a tidal wave.
Gasps rose from wandering cultivators of backwater regions. Capital-born disciples remained unimpressed.
_Golden Core? Provincial power at best,_ their smirks said. _True strength begins at Yuan Ying Stage. The imperial court answers only to Transformation God experts._
Luo San lectured for hours before vanishing without farewells.
That afternoon’s admission ceremony revealed greater wonders.
Sect Head Zuo Meng sat cross-legged on the high platform, outlining his original cultivation method—no longer the half-formed theories from his First Era.
“In Tai Chu’s dawn, when heaven kissed earth…”
None dared breathe loudly. Zuo Meng’s presence alone carried weight—a true immortal’s detachment, yet radiating enough power to humble nations.
Zhao Zheng’s fists clenched.
_The legend who crushed Great Chu single-handed!_ Since joining, he’d learned terrifying truths about Tai Chu’s reach. This sect existed beyond mortal comprehension.
_I’ll stand where he stands,_ Zhao Zheng vowed.
Zuo Meng never returned after that first lecture.
_Let the clever ones grasp what they can,_ he reasoned. Experiments required quality specimens, not random fools.
“Seeds planted.”
His new cultivation method already flowed through chosen disciples like Zhi Hua. Soon, all under Tai Chu’s banner would walk his perfected path.
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