Chapter 1: The Sect Opens Wide, The Game Begins
Chapter 1: The Sect Opens Wide, The Game Begins
Mount Qingcheng was known throughout the world for its serenity.
This famous Taoist mountain, Mount Qingcheng, had always been a place longed for and admired by cultivators. It was a home for immortals, and countless individuals with great supernatural powers had emerged from there.
On the eighth day of the fifth month, a day favorable for apprenticeship and unfavorable for moving, a rare commotion and loud noises occurred on the tranquil and silent Mount Qingcheng.
Large bronze bells, chime stones, and small bells rang out one after another. Their echoes clashed and reverberated among the peaks of Mount Qingcheng, causing the ever-present ethereal mist to ripple and disperse.
From the buildings and palaces on each mountain peak, Taoists hurriedly emerged, rushing swiftly toward the same direction—
Most tapped their toes lightly, leaving behind afterimages as they moved faster than galloping horses; a few Taoists even leaped into the air, paying no heed to the rugged mountain paths or thousand-zhang deep cliffs, flying through the sky.
Their postures were graceful, riding the wind and controlling the air, like dragons roaming the nine heavens, soaring elegantly.
If one looked up at the sky, they would also see many Taoists flying on swords. They moved so fast that only a black shadow and a blue light remained in one’s sight, vanishing in an instant.
On the highest peak of Mount Qingcheng, nearly a thousand Taoists were already lined up. The front row consisted of Taoists in bright red robes, their expressions solemn.
In the center stood a platform ten zhang high, on which only two people stood. One wore a purple Taoist robe, the other a golden one. Every movement they made radiated a mountain-like majesty; between their closed eyelids, flashes of lightning and divine light appeared, making it impossible for anyone to look directly at them.
Tiandu and Minghe, the two highest-ranking Taoists currently in Qingcheng, were also the leaders in charge of the sect.
“By the decree of the Ancestor of the Celestial Realm, our Qingcheng Sect will open its gates wide from this day forward, recruiting disciples extensively.”
Tiandu bowed toward the sky, offering three distant salutes. After rising, he spoke in a clear, loud voice.
“We respectfully obey the Ancestor’s decree.”
The thousand Taoists knelt and kowtowed in unison, performing the three kneels and nine bows toward the central platform, while simultaneously chanting incantations. The low, suppressed “humming” sounds of chanting intertwined, transforming into a subtle, intricate wave of sound that spread far and wide, like a pebble thrown into a calm river.
At the same time, multicolored rays of light descended from the sky, illuminating the entire mountain peak brilliantly and clearly.
This scene was not only happening on Mount Qingcheng; at the same moment, it occurred successively in every corner of this world, at every famous mountain and scenic spot.
Emei, Wudang, Huashan, Kunlun, Zhushan, and many other sects all held their own gatherings at this time, receiving the directives passed down from the upper realm ancestors. All of them began actions to recruit disciples and followers externally.
…
Ye Rong reclined on an electric massage chair, yawning with his mouth wide open. A 29-inch touch tablet hovered in front of him. With one hand, he held a pot of freshly squeezed orange juice; his other hand moved quickly across the tablet, swiping and tapping to check the latest news and information.
Page after page of news flipped by, none of which could spark even a bit of interest in Ye Rong, nor the curiosity to click for more details.
“Ah, Shushan, Shushan! How could such a classic game just shut down!”
In fact, Ye Rong knew very well that by the end of last year, the average number of players online for Shushan Sword Heroes had already dropped below three hundred thousand, a far cry from its peak with eight million concurrent users.
Faced with such an irreversible downward trend, the closure of Shushan Sword Heroes was predictable. Even the production company was packaged and sold to Shengfeng, the largest online game operator in the country.
As a loyal player of Shushan Sword Heroes, Ye Rong had always had a special fondness for xianxia-type online games featuring sword flight, soaring through the clouds, and magical treasure battles. Even as the number of participants continuously declined, he did not give up on the game and persisted until the very end.
On the last day of Shushan Sword Heroes’ operation, tens of thousands of players—regardless of alignment (righteous or evil), practice (Buddhist, Taoist, or Rogue Cultivator), or race (human or demon)—gathered together on Emei’s Ningbi Cliff to witness the final sunset in that world. There were even quite a few heartbroken players who choked back sobs or wailed openly on the spot. Three years of gameplay had left behind more than just a few memories.
The set massage time ended, and Ye Rong stood up from the massage chair. Wearing flip-flops, he shuffled “clip-clop” out of the room.
It was a long, narrow corridor, so tight that if two people walked side-by-side, their arms would definitely bump and rub against the walls. On both sides, there was a door every few steps. Such a corridor contained at least ten or more rooms, rented out to different people.
A few doors were open. Ye Rong glanced inside and saw messy, dirty scenes—laundry thrown everywhere. Standing at the doorway, he could even smell the odor of stinky socks.
Ye Rong pinched his nose and quickly hurried away from the front of those rooms, as if escaping. The tenants in this kind of low-rent housing building naturally varied in quality, all with limited living standards. Since they wanted to save money, they couldn’t demand a higher quality of life.
The circular living room was quite large. Ye Rong walked up to a tall, square machine, took out his ID card, swiped it, and ordered a bowl of beef tendon and large intestine noodles. Waiting less than five minutes, a steaming, fragrant bowl of noodles was pushed out from the central port of the machine—
Such a meal cost only five dollars, enough to fill an adult’s stomach. It was so cheap because all the ingredients were synthetic. Although there was no difference in nutritional content, there was a slight difference in texture. Worse, eating this machine-made, monotonous-tasting food all year round was a severe challenge for any normal person’s appetite.
By the early 22nd century, great advancements in technology had indeed improved human life, but labor costs had also increased dramatically. For Ye Rong, going to an external restaurant to enjoy a handcrafted meal was a luxury he might not even indulge in once a month.
After adding various condiments and holding his bowl of beef tendon and large intestine noodles, Ye Rong tossed his ID card back into his pocket. Before pulling it away, he glanced at the remaining balance displayed on it, though he could recite the number even with his eyes closed without any calculation.
“Damn, only three digits left again! This life is just impossible!”
Ye Rong wore a bitter expression on his face as he carried the noodles back toward his room. Coming from the opposite direction was a slender, young, and bright-looking woman.
The corridor was narrow. Seeing that Ye Rong was still holding a bowl of noodles, the young woman quickly turned sideways to make way, afraid that soup might splash onto her. Her large eyes quickly scanned over Ye Rong, revealing a look of disdain and scorn.
Ye Rong recognized this woman; she was the tenant two doors down to his left, having moved in just over a month ago.
She always went out with heavy makeup, dressed very provocatively, which attracted all the single men in this building corridor. They were stirred by the news and constantly came around.
Ye Rong kicked his door shut and happened to hear a “ding-dong” sound—the notification for a new email. He jogged back to the touch tablet. While devouring his noodles, he opened his mailbox to check the email.
“Far Shore? A new game?”
As soon as he opened it, there were several game animation videos. Ye Rong casually clicked on one and saw a group of female immortals flying through the air, their colorful ribbons fluttering as they soared gracefully. Each fairy had fair, fragrant cheeks, charming smiles, and beautiful, expressive eyes, no less stunning than real-life celebrities or models. There were also several Taoists standing on green peaks; with a lift of their hands, endless Divine Thunder fell from the sky, while immense sword formations rotated on the ground, whirling up Sword Light hundreds of zhang high.
“The developer is Shengfeng? Isn’t that the company that bought Shushan Sword Heroes?”
Ye Rong suddenly became interested. He clicked into the game content introduction below and started reading it in detail—
It turned out that this latest xianxia online game, named Far Shore, was precisely based on the template of Shushan Sword Heroes. It had undergone significant changes and enhancements and was being strongly promoted as this year’s major release.
Ye Rong connected to the internet and casually searched for information about Far Shore. Instantly, a dense flood of information came pouring in.
It turned out that as early as half a year ago, this game, touted as the complete enhanced version of Shushan Sword Heroes, had already been heating up online. Countless players were eagerly looking forward to it. Three months ago, during the Closed Beta, keys were resold for as much as eight hundred dollars each, and still, countless players snatched them up.
During that period, Ye Rong had been dealing with one hassle after another in real life, so he hadn’t even noticed the promotions for Far Shore.
“For the sake of Shushan, I should download it and play. Maybe I can even earn some living expenses!”
He started up his Light Brain, began downloading the Far Shore game package, and proceeded with the installation. The official launch time was this afternoon at two o’clock, and he estimated the installation would be finished by then.
Ye Rong had quit his job two months ago and now had zero income. Fortunately, such a low-rent housing room only cost one hundred twenty per month, and he could barely manage with his previous savings.
While the game was downloading, Ye Rong went onto the game Forum and opened a few posts specifically introducing Far Shore. On the Forum, some Closed Beta players had shared their experiences, which were very useful for a newbie like him, preventing him from being clueless and disoriented after entering the game.
Although Far Shore was a completely new production, its background story continued from Shushan Sword Heroes. The Sects inside were still just Emei, Wudang, Qingcheng, Huashan, and other Taoist sects, along with several Demonic Sects, and the chance to rely on luck to become a disciple under a great supernatural power Rogue Cultivator.
Races were still divided into Human and Demon Race. The two races had significant differences in innate attributes, spell usage, and personal growth. According to personal preference, players could choose different races to play.
Ye Rong became more and more engrossed as he scrolled. The more he learned, the greater his interest in Far Shore became. He read dozens of experience posts from Closed Beta players in one go, most of which covered points newbie players needed to pay attention to and leveling matters at the start.
“Stardata? Let’s see what this lousy company has to say.”
This Stardata Information Company specialized in game data statistics and was very authoritative.
Ye Rong remembered clearly that it was this Stardata Information Company that, at the end of last year, had reported successive years of declining data for Shushan Sword Heroes, ultimately causing this classic game in his heart to be unable to sustain itself any longer.