He already knew that if he stayed in Benson Hall, he might be able to listen to Walter Smith expound the Dao, and read the ancient texts of immortality—an immense fortune and rarest of blessings. But he had no immortal root, no divine fate; at this rate, it was absolutely impossible for him to set foot on the path of immortals in this life. No matter how great the opportunity, it would all be in vain.

Although Walter Smith was a Hunyuan Da Luo Golden Immortal, a master of profound creation, he was also an immortal who followed the will of heaven, and would certainly not defy fate to change his destiny.

There was no use in staying any longer.

“Why not descend to the mortal realm and seek out fortune?”

He hesitated endlessly.

The lower realm was the mundane world of mortals; in terms of immortal opportunities, how could it compare to Benson Hall?

But with no hope left in Benson Hall, he could only go down to seek his chance. Though the hope was slim, there was still a faint glimmer.

Brian Carter gritted his teeth and said, “The South!”

So, after a brief moment of contemplation, he tucked his trusty fire-poking stick into his belt, took along the Huangting Immortal Sutra he had been studying recently, and set off.

Before leaving, a sudden thought struck him. Remembering those stories of three heads and six arms, and wings sprouting from the back, he swallowed the Nine Oxen and Two Tigers as well.

After all, it was only half-cooked; to Walter Smith, it was already ruined, but to himself, it was still an immortal item. At this point, with nothing left to lose, even if taking this immortal item proved too much for his body to bear, that too was fate.

Brian Carter ate until his belly felt swollen and painful, then came to the gate of Benson Hall, gazing downward at the layers of immortal clouds and swirling white mist.

“Senior brother, I have been ordered to descend to the mortal realm. Please trouble you to send me down on a celestial crane.”

Chapter One Brian Carter

In the world today, the time had come for stability. It was necessary to appoint the gods of the heavens, dividing thunder, fire, plague, and battle, the Three Mountains and Five Peaks, the constellations and stars, the clouds and rain, the netherworld and the forces of good and evil—eight divisions of righteous gods to govern the order of heaven and earth.

Thus, all the immortals together established the Investiture of the Gods.

This matter concerned the eternal order of heaven and earth, affecting all living beings, and even the mortal world was swept up in war.

Dynasties rose and fell in the mortal realm, wars raged, and all sides relied on cultivators. In the end, the wars of the mortal world evolved into the battlefield of the Investiture of the Gods.

In this, those who would be enfeoffed—whether cultivators or mortals—would be chosen based on their fortune, cultivation, and karmic ties.

Since the division of the former Tang dynasty, flames of war had erupted everywhere in the world.

By now, the land was split into three, each holding the others in check, the situation barely stable.

The south was the Liang Kingdom.

The central lands were the Shu Kingdom.

To the north was the Yuan-Mongol Kingdom.

……

“At the beginning of man, nature is inherently good.”

“Their natures are similar, but their habits make them different.”

At dusk, the sky was tinged with a golden yellow.

The sound of reading drifted from a tiled house, the voices young and somewhat jumbled.

After a while, a clear voice said, “That’s all for today. It’s getting late—go home now.”

Then came the cheers of children, and a few studious ones still sounded a bit reluctant. Seven or eight children ran out of the house, not forgetting to wave as they left: “Teacher, see you tomorrow.”

A man stood at the door, smiling, holding a scroll in his arms.

He wore plain white clothes, elegant and otherworldly.

His features were upright and clear, about eighteen or nineteen years old.

Looking closely, one could see a faint smile on his face, but a trace of confusion hidden in his brows.

His name was Brian Carter. Years ago, he had been a disciple of the celestial palace in the upper realm, but lacking the proper foundation, he descended to the mortal world to seek his fortune. Yet to this day, he had gained nothing.

Though he had cultivated quietly for years and could endure loneliness, his heart now calm, the lack of any result left him inevitably lost and bewildered.

He stood quietly for a moment, finally sighed, and turned back inside.

The sun set behind the western hills, the evening glow fading.

Night fell, deep and silent.

A candle was lit in the house. From the window, one could see a shadow sitting at the table, reading a book.

“The way of heaven takes from the excess and gives to the lacking. The way of the immortals…”

His voice was clear, each word distinct.

……

The moonlight was bright, thin as gauze.

He had fallen asleep.

“Disciple Brian Carter of Walter Smith, having broken the rules, secretly read the Immortal Roots Register, spied upon the Investiture of the Gods, and privately consumed the treasure of Nine Oxen and Two Tigers, has fled in fear of punishment. Now, by order, he is to be executed!”

In the silent, hazy night, a crisp and cold voice suddenly rang out.

Vaguely, it seemed a group of people pushed open the wooden door.

In the bright moonlight, the figures were ethereal, half-real, half-unreal, drifting like immortals.

Behind was a group of young Daoist acolytes, all handsome and refined, surrounded by Daoist energy and spiritual aura.

At the front was also a young boy, about twelve or thirteen, dressed in white, otherworldly, with proud brows and a cold face, holding a jade ruyi in his arms, a celestial sword on his back, pointing at him from several yards away.

“Senior Brother White Crane…”

Brian Carter suddenly awoke, his whole body cold.

He took a deep breath, still shaken.

“Another nightmare…”

Back then, he was a young acolyte at Benson Manor. By chance, he discovered the Immortal Roots Register, which recorded the cultivation potential of all under heaven, but found his own name missing, realizing he was fated to have no immortal root.

He wanted to seek out Walter Smith for answers, but learned that Walter Smith was in seclusion.

Returning to the alchemy room, he found that the Nine Oxen and Two Tigers dough figurine entrusted to him by Walter Smith had already been destroyed.

He had spent many years in the celestial palace, wholeheartedly cultivating immortality. After this incident, he was shocked to realize he had no foundation, his thoughts became distracted, and he fell into despair.