Hunyuan Immortal Sect

Chapter 5 Guangzong Yaozu

More than ten days passed in the blink of an eye.

The news that the headmaster Zhang Shilin is accepting disciples has been announced to the sect.

Song Xian's mansion also became lively, with many disciples who had met him but were not familiar with him coming to visit and congratulate him.

On the day of formal apprenticeship, all the sect leaders and chiefs, big and small, came to Zhang Shilin's house to celebrate, and Song Xian saluted them one by one according to the apprenticeship procedure.

Zhang Hunyuan introduced the identities of these people to him.

"Junior brother, this is Elder Chang of our sect." Zhang Hunyuan's tone became noticeably heavier when he introduced the last old man sitting in the first seat.

He was an old man with a thin figure and a serious expression. Although he was very old, he sat upright, looking dignified without being angry, with a pair of old eyes that shone coldly.

"Disciple greets Elder Chang."

Song Xian saluted him as usual, but the old man had no expression on his face and did not respond.

After completing a series of procedures, he came to Zhang Shilin, who was in the main seat, and kowtowed three times and bowed nine times.

"Disciple pays homage to master."

"Okay, okay, okay." Zhang Shilin smiled and twirled his beard, then stretched out his right palm. The waiter next to him presented the items that had been prepared long ago. They were two exquisite wooden boxes, one about three feet long, and the other two feet long, but much taller.

"Xian'er, these two magic weapons are selected by your master for you." Zhang Shilin opened the wooden boxes. In one of the wooden boxes was a three-foot-long fiery red sword. The sword body was engraved with lines of exquisite patterns, like a swimming dragon.

"This is the Wandering Dragon Sword, a mid-grade magical weapon with fourteen layers of restrictions for your protection. I hope you can practice diligently. I believe that one day, your cultivation will catch up with my level."

"Thank you, Master. I will live up to your high expectations and practice diligently."

"And this." Zhang Shilin opened another wooden box, which contained a green gourd. "This is the Flying Gourd, which contains six layers of restrictions. It is a low-grade flying magic weapon that can be used for your transportation."

"Thank you, Master."

"Get up and take a seat!"

"Yes." Song Xian stood up and sat down aside.

Zhang Shilin clapped his hands, and soon a group of maids came in with jade plates in their hands, placed them on everyone's desk, and lifted the red cloth covering the jade plates, revealing several plates of rare dishes of different colors and a pot of white porcelain wine.

"Everyone just eat and drink well. These are all my personal collection of wine and food, and I didn't spend a single cent from the sect." Zhang Shilin said with a smile, and everyone laughed in agreement.

Song Xian picked up a piece of tender beef and chewed it repeatedly. He could smell the aroma. He had never eaten such delicious food in his life.

When the beef went down the throat and intestines into the stomach, it turned into weak spiritual energy that circulated around the body, causing the Linghai acupoint to slightly stir.

These are not ordinary dishes, but foods cooked with the flesh and blood of monsters and various spiritual medicines and herbs. The cultivation world calls them spiritual food. As the name suggests, they are foods with spiritual energy.

Practitioners who are unable to practice fasting need to eat every day to maintain their physical strength, just like ordinary mortals. Spiritual food is specially provided for practitioners. It can not only fill the stomach, but also is beneficial to their cultivation.

However, spiritual food is quite expensive and most monks cannot afford it. It is only served to entertain guests on festive occasions.

Of course, with the exception of some important children from large sects and families, there are many wealthy children in the cultivation world who eat spiritual food for three meals a day, which becomes part of their support for cultivation.

The banquet was a great pleasure for both the host and the guests. Song Xian was tasting spiritual wine and food for the first time and could not control himself. Moreover, he was the protagonist today, so the leaders of the sect took turns to toast him and he ended up being drunk.

.........

In Lingshan Town, at night, dark clouds covered the moon, heavy rain poured down, and the roads were pitch dark, with no sight at all.

The people in the town had already shut their doors, leaving only the sounds of frogs croaking and birds chirping, accompanied by the heavy rain.

In such weather, a house in the southern part of the town was brightly lit and bustling with people.

But inside, a group of poor people were arguing around a table. They were actually a group of gamblers. Each of them seemed to be full of energy, shouting at the dice on the table.

"Big, big, big!" One of the thin, middle-aged men shouted particularly loudly, his voice hoarse but unaware, his eyes fixed on the dice in the bowl. He wore only a single, patched shirt, yet on this frigid night, he felt no chill at all.

After an unknown amount of time, the middle-aged man felt his pocket and found that he had lost every last copper coin he had. He cursed bitterly and then left the house secretly with red eyes.

At this time, the sky was already turning white. Although the heavy rain had stopped, the air was still filled with white fog.

The man gasped, and only then did he feel the cold air. He rubbed his palms continuously, covered his clothes tightly with his arms, and walked forward.

It was not until around noon that they arrived at a butcher's farm in the town.

I saw an old man with big shoulders and a fat face, wearing a stained white apron and a short shirt underneath, chopping meat in front of a chopping board. There were many men and women gathered around, and the old man greeted everyone warmly.

Seeing this, the middle-aged man didn't dare to step forward, so he hunched over in the corner by the wall and waited until everyone bought the meat and left. Then he tiptoed to the counter.

The big, fat old man with a face full of fat didn't even look at him and continued to chop the meat, as if he didn't exist. He was completely different from the man who had been welcoming guests enthusiastically before.

"Dad." The middle-aged man half-bowed cautiously with a flattering smile on his face.

"I have something to discuss with you. Mr. Zhang's family in the city is looking for a private tutor. I have a friend who has some connections with Mr. Zhang and might be able to recommend me. However, I'm broke right now and can't ask that friend for help. So, I'd like to borrow some money from you to help me get by. I'll return the money once I'm hired."

The old butcher then stopped what he was doing, raised his head, and spit directly on his face.

"Ah, bah, you look like a toad, and you still want to teach at Master Zhang's house."

"I was so unlucky that I married my daughter to a worldly treasure like you. My poor daughter, after marrying you, she could only eat meat a few times a year and eventually died of illness."

"You're so good, gambling every day, you even sold all your house and land."

"An unfilial son like you is hard to find even with a lantern in a shit pot. I don't know what sin I committed to marry you. It's really bad luck."

The old man started cursing and then ignored him and went back into the house. The butcher's son in the inner room heard his father cursing and came out to see that it was this poor bald man again. He was so angry that he picked up the wooden stick next to him and rushed forward angrily, cursing.

"What are you doing here again? Get out of here or I'll break your legs. You jinx, you unlucky thing, get away from me."

Seeing his ferocious appearance, the frail middle-aged man felt a little timid and wanted to turn around and leave, but he was helpless. So he mustered up the courage and said, "My... my son has spiritual roots and has been sent to Qingyun Sect to practice. Sooner or later, he will embark on the path to heaven."

The butcher's son sneered, "You're still dreaming of this beautiful dream. Your son has been gone for eight years and there's been no news. He must be dead. I've heard that any child sent to the Qingyun Sect will pass the assessment and become a formal disciple of the Qingyun Sect within three to five years. If there's still no news, then he's dead. Don't you even take a piss and look at yourself? You're just imagining swan farts. With your character, you still want to be like Master Zhang."

As he said that, he grabbed the minced meat on the chopping board and threw it at his face: "Get out of here!"

Seeing how ferocious he was, the thin middle-aged man had no choice but to flee. When he reached a dirt road in the countryside, he saw a chicken flying out from a fence of a house. He looked around and saw that there was no one around, so he quickly ran forward, picked up the chicken in his arms, and left quickly.

After walking for half a day, he arrived at a market and started selling the stolen chicken on the spot, hoping to exchange it for a few copper coins to fill his stomach.

However, everyone in the market was an acquaintance, and many people knew that he was a well-known gambler and a poor man in the area, and that he had stolen a chicken from somewhere, so no one who came and went spent money to buy it.

Around dusk, when the man was starving, a child about thirteen or fourteen suddenly emerged from the alley next to him, grabbed his hand, and shouted, "Hey, Uncle Jian, why are you here? We've been looking for you everywhere, we're going crazy. Come on, come with me."

The middle-aged man didn't know what was going on and shook his hand off: "What are you doing? I'm selling chickens here! Why are you pulling me? If I can't sell the chickens, you have to give me food."

The child said, "Hurry back! Your family has an honored guest. Captain Zhang has sent a yamen runner to tell you the good news. Your virtuous brother has become a disciple of the Qingyun Sect. The runner said he's coming on a fast horse, and Captain Zhang is following in a sedan chair. They'll be at your house soon."

"Nonsense, you come to tease me again, go, go, go, I don't have time to play with you today."

The thin middle-aged man was none other than Song Jian, the father of Song Xian. Ever since his family fell into poverty and lost all his land, people always made fun of him, so he didn't believe what was said and just thought it was a child playing a prank on him.

Seeing that he didn't believe him, the child suddenly had an idea. He snatched the chicken with its feet tied on the ground and ran away.

"Hey! My chicken, my chicken. Don't run." Song Jian was very anxious when he saw the chicken was snatched away, and he quickly got up and chased it.

After turning a few alleys, he saw several villagers gathered in front of the child who stole the chicken and asking questions. When they saw him coming, they were overjoyed and all came forward to greet him, talking in a flurry and pushing him away.

After hearing what everyone said, Song Jian returned home half-believingly, but saw two fine horses tied at the door, two officials sitting under a locust tree, and the outside of his dilapidated house was already surrounded by people.

(End of this chapter)