Chapter 7: The Emergence of the Investiture of the Gods

After examining it carefully for a while, Zhang Kai let out a sigh.

It was confirmed.

This world truly imposed limitations on the path of cultivation, limitations that stemmed from the very laws governing reality. Even the Five Element Spirit Pearl, a divine artifact from a fantasy drama, was suppressed beneath these laws—the divine concealed, rendered mundane.

Unless the rules of reality could be reversed, this so-called Five Element Spirit Pearl was nothing more than a crystal bead: valuable, yet useless.

Sitting down, Zhang Kai was swept by a torrent of emotions—frustration, anger, despair, and an unwillingness to yield.

The bridge between cliffs had been severed; even if he possessed the boundless resources of those television worlds, what use were they? After a few decades of carefree living, the thought of dying filled him with even greater reluctance. He would absolutely go mad.

All he longed for was immortality.

To live but a handful of decades—how could that be worthy of such a miraculous boon, worthy of such a one-in-a-million opportunity?

Perhaps the path to immortality could be found in technology.

Robots, genetic serums—those sorts of things.

But after such transformations, would one even count as human anymore?

Even then, Zhang Kai couldn’t be sure that such technological advancements wouldn’t also be restricted by the world’s laws. After all, if they exceeded the norm too greatly, they might be forbidden as well. And if he had already embarked down that road, there would be no turning back.

Thus, only the path of cultivation was truly correct, truly reliable, truly the most likely route to immortality—great power rooted in oneself, elevating the very quality of life.

He had to find a way to overturn reality’s rules and reignite the way of immortality.

Once the thought took root, it would not leave his heart.

The more Zhang Kai pondered, the brighter his eyes became.

With the endless resources of those TV dramas, he held infinite possibilities in his hands.

After all, it wasn’t that the real world was inherently incapable of producing immortals—it was that, for some reason, spiritual energy had vanished and cultivation could no longer continue.

It wasn’t impossible from the outset; the challenge wasn’t in creating rules from scratch, which was a near-impossible feat, but in repairing a severed hope—much less difficult, as long as he could find the right approach.

Zhang Kai’s thoughts twisted and turned as he carefully considered his options.

Suddenly, his gaze landed on a statue—an idol of the True Martial Emperor, which he had been dutifully offering incense to once a day.

Since he claimed to admire Wudang culture, he had to go through all the motions; otherwise, it would be too obvious a sham.

Gazing upon the statue, a bold idea sprang into Zhang Kai’s mind.

Since the world no longer permitted the cultivation of immortals, did that mean the gods and buddhas of old were gone as well? Even if a few remained, perhaps they now cowered in hidden corners, stripped of their former might.

In that case, the realms of gods, immortals, and buddhas alike were all blank slates.

If—what if, in this modern age, I ascended to godhood? Could I guide spiritual energy back into the world? Cause the deities and immortals to return?

The very thought startled Zhang Kai.

It was too bold, too wild. Should even a single true deity remain, he would instantly become the enemy of every god and buddha under heaven, with nowhere left to hide.

But what if he succeeded?

A new pantheon would supplant the old; all the gods would owe their titles to him. He would immediately become the leader of all immortals, and even if he eventually clashed with the old order, he would at least have the power to fight back.

Of course, this was all just conjecture—no telling whether it could come to pass.

But if he could truly ascend to godhood, even just bestowing a divine title upon himself, wouldn’t that resolve the question of immortality in a single stroke?

A god enshrined by the Investiture of the Gods was still a god, one who shared the lifespan of heaven and earth.

At this thought, Zhang Kai’s heart thundered in his chest.

Damn it, why hadn’t he thought of this sooner?

Just use the Investiture of the Gods to make himself a deity and leave everything else aside—so what if it was selfish? Who among people isn’t selfish? Throughout history, how many truly selfless sages have there been? He was just an ordinary man.

Let’s do it.

If you die, you’re finished; if you don’t, you could live for ten thousand years.

Excited, Zhang Kai picked up his phone, opened Tencent Video, and searched for Investiture of the Gods.

There were many adaptations of the series, even animated versions.

But the cartoons were too far removed from reality to be considered.

Glancing through the available versions, Zhang Kai chose the earliest and most classic adaptation. It had accompanied generations, accepted and beloved by countless viewers. He reasoned that such a widely acknowledged Investiture of the Gods might carry its own fortune, perhaps enough to contend with the world’s laws.

Hopeful, he skipped ahead to the final scene where Jiang Ziya bestows the divine titles, the Investiture of the Gods hanging like an imperial edict.

This was the beginning of the investiture; the list was blank, nothing written upon it yet.

Zhang Kai paused the video and reached out to draw the list from the screen.

In the next moment, the scroll appeared in his hand—a golden scroll, material unknown, supple but not like silk, warm to the touch as if it held a living heat.

The instant it appeared, the Investiture of the Gods radiated a beam of golden light.

The light burst through the roof, piercing the sky—a golden pillar stretching from earth to heaven, illuminating the land for thousands of miles.

The moment the golden light appeared, tens of thousands in the region around Wudang Mountain saw it, stunned and wide-eyed, quickly pulling out their phones to take pictures.

Elsewhere, in places unreachable by ordinary folk, many hidden and mysterious beings turned their gaze toward the golden light, sensing something extraordinary, their eyes alight with delight and anticipation.

Zhang Kai felt the greatest shock of all.

When the Fire Spirit Pearl had appeared, it had only let off a faint glow.

But this Investiture of the Gods caused such a commotion, it was utterly world-shaking.

World-shaking…?

Oh no, he’d been exposed.

The moment that thought arose, the golden light of the Investiture of the Gods instantly withdrew, the scroll reverting to something plain and unremarkable.

This only made Zhang Kai more anxious.

If it too was suppressed, then his hope for immortality would truly be lost.

He quickly inspected it, and his eyes brightened.

He could feel a different aura emanating from the Investiture of the Gods—faint, yet tenacious. It was the aura of a divine artifact. It had not been entirely suppressed by the laws of heaven and earth; it still possessed power!

Joy flooded his heart.

Without hesitation, Zhang Kai put the Investiture of the Gods away, gathered up his other treasures, and walked out into the courtyard.

Looking back toward the Wudang temple, he saw the lights blazing, many people clearly alarmed.

Zhang Kai was helpless.

He had no idea the Investiture of the Gods would be so formidable, its entrance so spectacular.

Now that he’d been exposed, there was no hiding it. He would see what happened next. If it came to it, he could just leave Wudang Mountain—after all, the world was vast, and with money, anywhere could be home.

It wasn’t long before a group of Taoist priests arrived.

Zhang Kai stood at the gate to greet them.

“Master Chen, what just happened? I thought I saw a beam of golden light shoot up into the sky, but when I came out, it was gone. What was that all about?” Zhang Kai took the initiative, feigning curiosity.

The priests exchanged glances.

“Layman Zhang, did you see where the light appeared?” the elderly Master Chen asked excitedly.

Zhang Kai thought for a moment and replied, “I saw it from my window, but when I got outside it had vanished. I’m not sure where it came from. Master Chen, is it true there are immortals on Wudang Mountain? Was that golden light the work of a deity here?”

Seeing Zhang Kai’s look of anticipation and excitement, Master Chen was a little disappointed, forcing a smile. “Layman Zhang, there are no immortals in this world. It was probably just an aurora. It’s late—get some rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow if need be.”

Zhang Kai pretended to press for more answers, but the group of priests hurried away.

In recent days, the arrival of a purple-robed immortal had already stirred up rumors on Wudang Mountain, and now this pillar of golden light—if they didn’t get to the bottom of it soon, Wudang Mountain would be trending all over the internet!