Xuanjian: I am the Sun Sword Immortal

Two months before he turned six, his spiritual aperture began to loosen.

Lou Linxian noticed this one morning. As usual, he was sunbathing in the courtyard when the first rays of sunlight shone on the pale golden mark between his brows. An unprecedented warmth spread from there, like spring water slowly melting the frozen surface of a river. He could feel the invisible barrier between him and the spiritual energy of heaven and earth thinning and softening, as if it would shatter completely with just a gentle push.

He was overjoyed that he would soon be able to begin his cultivation. However, as it turned out, things didn't go as planned. Just as he was preparing to draw qi into his body and cultivate the Xuanjing Wheel, a change occurred.

Two days later at dusk, there was a knock on the door of the stone house.

The knocking was soft and steady, with just the right intervals, giving a very polite impression.

Lou Mingyuan went to open the door.

Two people stood outside the door. The one in the lead was a young cultivator dressed in a gold-red Daoist robe, appearing to be no more than twenty years old. He had a handsome face, high brow bones, and his eyes remained bright even in the twilight, with a faint crimson flame flickering deep within his pupils, like two embers that had not yet burned out. His cultivation was at the late Foundation Establishment stage, just one step away from the Purple Mansion stage.

"Deacon Lou." The young cultivator nodded slightly, his tone carrying a hint of familiarity.

Lou Mingyuan opened the door, paused for a moment, then bowed deeply: "Peak Master Xia Yuanming? What brings you here today? Please come in and have a seat."

He stepped aside to let the person into the house, and while fetching a teacup, he turned back and called out to the inner room, "Qingyi, quickly brew a pot of tea."

Lou Mingyuan sat down opposite him. "The last time I saw you was at the beginning of the year when we had a meeting in the sect. Have you been in seclusion for the past six months?"

"Yes, I reached a critical point in my Fire Separation Technique. I was in seclusion for half a year and just emerged a few days ago." Xia Yuanming accepted the teacup from Liu Qingyi and nodded his thanks.

The two chatted for a few minutes about trivial matters within the sect—a certain deacon disciple had recently successfully established his foundation and held a three-day banquet in Qiyan City; the production of Desert Wind Spirit Grass outside the city had increased by 20% this year, but the price had fallen; and there had been some trouble at the Frostfire Stone mine in the north recently, with several demonic cultivators being caught illegally mining the mine by the patrols. After drinking more than half a cup of tea, Peak Master Xia put down his teacup and turned his gaze towards the inner room.

"Brother Lou, let's get down to business." Xia Yuanming abandoned his earlier casual conversation. "Is your son almost six years old?"

Lou Mingyuan paused slightly as he put down his teacup. Then he nodded.

"Your son is exceptionally talented, as you must have noticed. Your master took notice of him three years ago," Xia Yuanming said. "I am here today on your master's orders to welcome him into the family."

Lou Mingyuan was silent for a moment, then stood up.

"I'll go call his mother."

Lou Linxian saw all of this and realized that he had indeed been targeted.

I knew it! How could a child with an unusual appearance—born close to the sun and bearing a faint golden mark between his brows—simply stay home and grow up peacefully? That subtle gaze in the market when he was three, his father suddenly being given a less demanding job, and how things had inexplicably improved for the family over the years—it was all part of that. He cursed inwardly; in this world of mystical observation, nothing escaped the eyes of the higher beings. Offering a job at five and a half, arranging everything perfectly.

As Liu Qingyi carried Xuanfu out of the inner room, Xia Yuanming's gaze fell upon him.

To be precise, it landed on his brow.

In the twilight, a pale gold mark between the brows of a five-year-old child was faintly glowing, as if ignited from within by something. He stared at it for a moment, then extended a finger and gently touched Lou Linxian's brow. The instant his fingertip touched it, Lou Linxian felt a warm force surge into his brow, extremely light and gentle, as if testing something.

Xia Yuanming withdrew his finger, and the crimson flame in his eyes flickered slightly.

"His spiritual aperture is about to open." There was a hint of excitement in his tone.

Liu Qingyi placed Xu Fu on the ground, squatted down, and looked him in the eye.

"My son," she said softly, reaching out to straighten his collar. The little garment she had just sewn last month was finely stitched and very comfortable to wear. "I'm not very capable. My cultivation in this life is only at the embryonic stage, and my bloodline is mixed. I can't give you anything good. Once you leave, you'll have to rely on yourself from now on."

Her tone was calm, as if she were merely instructing someone on something ordinary. But Lou Linxian saw something in her eyes—not tears, but a deep, profound reluctance suppressed beneath the surface. She was using a calm tone to conceal that reluctance.

Lou Mingyuan stepped forward, squatted down, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You are a naturally intelligent child, far surpassing your father in both aptitude and wisdom. I only have one piece of advice for you—listen more, observe more, and speak less."

His gaze fell on the pale gold mark between the eyebrows of the man, pausing for a moment.

"This mark can be both a blessing and a curse. How you use it is up to you."

Lou Linxian looked into her father's eyes and nodded earnestly.

He didn't cry. A five-year-old child leaving his parents might cry, but he couldn't. It wasn't because he wasn't sad—Liu Qingyi's words, "From now on, you'll have to rely on yourself," were like a fine needle, deeply piercing a soft spot in his heart—but because he knew this day would come sooner or later. From the moment his spiritual awareness first appeared, it was destined that he wouldn't be able to grow up slowly by his parents' side like ordinary children.

He knelt down and kowtowed three times earnestly to his parents.

After kowtowing three times, he finally couldn't hold back and burst into tears.

Liu Qingyi pulled him into her arms and gently patted his back. She didn't say "Don't cry," but instead hummed the song he had heard countless times—no words, only the melody, like the rustling of the wind in Qiyan City through the desert grass.

Lou Mingyuan stood to the side, his lips moved, but he ultimately said nothing. He simply reached out and gently patted the back of his son's head: "Why are you crying? It's just going to the sect to cultivate. It's not far from home. Come back and visit your mother when you have time."

Xia Zhaoming waited quietly to the side, without urging them. Only after the family had finished saying goodbye did he extend his hand.

"Let's go."

Two days ago.

Inside the Baili Hall, the subterranean fire flowed slowly through the fiery stones on the four walls, illuminating the entire hall as if it were the heart of lava. Master Binghong sat in the main seat, his fingers gently tapping the bronze beast head on the armrest, producing a dull and even sound.

There was only one person in the hall.

Xia Yuanming stood at the foot of the steps with his hands at his sides, his crimson Taoist robe flickering in the light of the firestone.

"Yuanming," Master Binghong spoke, his voice not loud, yet it resonated with an undeniable authority in the spacious hall, "How many years have you been cultivating with me?"

"Reporting to Master, it has been seventy-three years," Xia Yuanming replied.

"Seventy-three years." Master Bingcheng repeated the number, stopping his tapping on the armrest. "We're about to begin cultivating the secret techniques and prepare to seek supernatural powers."

"Supernatural powers are hard to come by; as the saying goes, those with shallow lives cannot possess them."

"The Purple Mansion stage is never just about accumulating cultivation. If one's destiny is not strong enough, one cannot break through the ignorance."

His fingers began tapping the armrest again, once, once.

Xia Yuanming immediately knelt down and kowtowed several times, pleading, "Please, Master, give me your guidance."

"In Qiyan City, three years ago I sent you to secretly observe a child," said Master Binghong. "Lou Mingyuan's son, named Jifu. At the age of three, his spiritual awareness began to emerge, and he had a faint golden mark between his eyebrows, indicating that he was born close to the sun—this child possesses a destiny of unparalleled value."

Xia Yuanming nodded: "Disciple remembers. Master instructed that this boy's family be secretly taken care of, and that his entry into the sect be arranged at the same time."

"He is almost six years old," said Master Binghong. "His spiritual awareness will soon be fully opened. I want you to guide him into the path of Tao."

Xia Yuanming was overjoyed upon hearing this and kowtowed several times, saying, "Thank you, Master, for granting my request."

Qiyan City gradually became a small dot behind them. This was Lou Mingyuan's first long journey in five years. Qiyan City was located in the wasteland near Jieyu Land in the North Sea. Reddish-brown rock layers were exposed on the surface, and weathered gravel filled the view.

Heading north from Qiyan City, the terrain gradually rises, and the cold air returns. Although the ice and snow of the North Sea do not reach here, there is little greenery left on the wasteland. Occasionally, one can see one or two short pine trees, rooted in the crevices of rocks, their gnarled branches twisting and turning, their age unknown.

The land here is different from that in the south. In the south, spiritual fields rise in layers, mortal villages are scattered like stars, waterways crisscross the land, and the fragrance of rice permeates the air for miles. But west of the North Sea, the earth exposes reddish-brown rock layers. The spiritual energy of heaven and earth is not thin here, but it is extremely violent. The fire-elemental spiritual energy and the icy aura emanating from the cold flame stones tear at each other, forming invisible turbulent currents of spiritual energy. Mortals below the Qi Refining stage who linger here will experience anything from mild meridian pain to severe internal organ damage from the spiritual energy.

Therefore, within a radius of a thousand miles from Qiyan City, there are almost no villages inhabited by ordinary people.

Occasionally, a few figures could be seen, all of whom were cultivators at the Qi Refining stage or above. They were either gathering Desert Wind Spirit Herbs or tracking veins of Frost Flame Stone. When they saw Xia Yuanming, they would stop and bow from a distance, waiting for him to pass before continuing their work.

Lou Linxian was deep in thought. He had heard that the True Man Binghong's surname was Longkang, and that his sect was located near Jieyu Land, so he likely had the blood of both the Longkang clan and the Yu clan flowing through his veins.

He cursed inwardly. The commotion of his time travel that day had indeed not escaped the notice of the Master of Tongxinli. Most of the orders were passed down from the cave, and everything about him had been arranged clearly.

It seems my treatment should be pretty good. I'll talk about any plans after I reach the Purple Mansion level. I'm not qualified to be a pawn until I reach the Purple Mansion level.

Since that was the case, he settled down to join the sect and cultivate diligently.

Once he understood this, his mood improved somewhat.