Chapter Nine: Leaving Seclusion, Seeking One of Boundless Virtue

With this realization, Zhang Kai suddenly felt enlightened. Of course. Gods and immortals—gods are appointed, while immortals are attained through cultivation.

To become an immortal requires a legacy, opportunity, effort, fate, and surviving countless tribulations before finally ascending. Though becoming a god is not as arduous as becoming an immortal, it still requires one essential qualification: virtue.

Without virtue or ability, how can one become a god?

Having figured this out, Zhang Kai sighed and gave up on this shortcut. He simply wasn't destined to become a god. After all, doing good deeds was something he could manage—if a person has the means to help those in need, that is a basic duty and the foundation of kindness. But asking Zhang Kai to devote his life solely to doing good was a bit much; he was, after all, an ordinary man who just wanted to live his own humble life.

Still, this offered a direction. After all, if the Investiture of the Gods was necessary to trigger the revival of spiritual energy, then gods must be appointed. If he wasn’t suitable, he could seek out someone who was qualified.

With this thought, Zhang Kai realized he could no longer remain on Mount Wudang. Those worthy candidates wouldn’t simply present themselves; he’d have to seek them out.

Once the mind is clear, everything falls into place. Zhang Kai’s mind was now filled with plans.

He did not leave immediately. This world was far from ordinary; supernatural entities truly existed. On this journey, there would be no time for cautious exploration, so he had to be fully prepared. Even if cultivating immortality proved impossible, he had to master martial arts thoroughly, so that even when confronted by extraordinary beings, he would still have some means of self-preservation.

Time passed slowly; in the blink of an eye, five or six days had gone by. During this period, Zhang Kai spent his days binge-watching dramas in his secluded courtyard, searching for resources he could make use of, and his nights training deep in the mountains. The Seven Spiral Slash was already second nature to him. He also mastered the television adaptation of the Buddha’s Palm, which he had copied from the eight great cauldrons and hidden in an abandoned cave, learning all the basics in one night.

Then there was the Dragon Subduing Eighteen Palms, capable of unleashing dragon-shaped energy; the Six Meridian Divine Sword, which could shoot out piercing blasts; the ever-changing Lingbo Microsteps, which allowed for unpredictable movement in a limited space; and the Invincible Vajra Body, which could turn one’s body into an impervious golden statue. He learned them all.

Unfortunately, when it came to internal energy, he hit a bottleneck. Whether due to the rules of the real world or some other limit, his internal energy was capped at one hundred eighty years’ worth—he simply couldn’t increase it further.

That was three cycles of sixty years’ energy. If he unleashed it all, his body could withstand a collision with a speeding truck.

Yet, impressive as it was, it remained mortal—outside the realm of the immortals.

He also gathered a few other items, such as the Antidote Holy Pill and Tongshe Dilong Pill refined by Ouyang Feng. These were treasures; worn on the body, they made one immune to all poisons—venomous insects and snakes would avoid him instinctively.

As for weapons, Zhang Kai left them alone for now. In modern society, carrying even a kitchen knife could get you detained, let alone walking around with swords. However, he had already set his sights on a few weapons he could summon when needed—like the Dragon Roar Blade and Phoenix Blood Sword from Goddess of Snow, or the peerless swords from Storm Riders.

Once everything was prepared, Zhang Kai contacted the Wudang Sect to let them know he might be away on business for a while. The Wudang Sect was tactful, assuring him the courtyard would be kept for him and not used by anyone else—he could return any time.

After all, not everyone could easily donate ten million in incense money. In these times, generous benefactors were always valued friends.

Then Zhang Kai departed.

His first stop was to detour into the mountains to visit the fox. After some time together, their relationship had grown harmonious—the fox always treated Zhang Kai with the deference of a disciple, bringing him wild chickens and rabbits as offerings.

Upon seeing the fox, Zhang Kai smiled and said, “I plan to travel far for a while, seeking an opportunity for breakthrough. The mountain will be yours alone again. Cultivate diligently, watch over what I’ve left behind, and do not slack off. When I return, you will be rewarded.”

The fox squeaked a few times, looking at him expectantly.

Zhang Kai shook his head. “I’m afraid you can’t come with me this time. Once I’ve broken through, I’ll choose a spiritual place to establish a sanctuary, and you can join me in cultivation then.”

The fox showed disappointment at first, then nodded eagerly in anticipation.

Smiling, Zhang Kai brought out a Blood Bodhi.

This was nurtured with qilin blood—still a mortal object, but imbued with a trace of qilin’s essence, which should nourish a supernatural creature.

Sure enough, at the scent of the Blood Bodhi, the fox’s eyes lit up, its body quivering with excitement, its desire for the fruit plain to see.

Zhang Kai handed it over and said, “Alright, eat it and refine its energy well. Don’t reveal yourself in front of people.”

The fox gripped the Blood Bodhi in its mouth and nodded again. As Zhang Kai turned to leave, the fox bent its forelegs and lowered its head to the ground, as if paying him a respectful farewell.

Zhang Kai soared away.

Now, having mastered a dozen or more lightness techniques from various films and dramas, his own agility was extraordinary—he couldn’t literally fly, but traversing dozens of miles in a single leap was easy.

He chose to avoid scenic spots, taking the most secluded forests out of the mountains.

What he didn’t notice was that after he passed over one hillside, a filthy man crawled up from the underbrush, eyes burning as he watched Zhang Kai fly off.

“What incredible lightness skill—truly remarkable. If the Wudang Sect’s Ladder Cloud Leap is at this level, it’s no different from a cultivator’s abilities. Even if not innate, it’s not far off.”

This man was Yun Chuan. Despite his disheveled appearance, his eyes shone with unprecedented clarity.

He hadn’t caught a clear glimpse of the man’s face as he sped past, but he clearly recognized the clothes.

Damn, wasn’t that the Wudang priest’s robe?

He scoffed—telling me to cultivate my mind and nurture my character? I’d be the world’s biggest fool if I believed that.

Watching the expert disappear, Yun Chuan didn’t bother chasing—he couldn’t have caught up anyway. But the monk may run, the temple remains. The Wudang Sect was right here; as long as he joined, he’d be just as powerful one day.

When the expert was out of sight, Yun Chuan got up, obsession burning in his heart, and continued toward Mount Wudang.

You want to refuse me? Impossible. If I die, I’ll die on Mount Wudang.

Over half an hour later, Zhang Kai detoured to the roadside near the scenic area and took a bus away from the mountain where he had lived for months.

This time, he needed to find someone worthy of being placed on the Investiture of the Gods, to awaken the revival of spiritual energy.

...

“Eight Li Township, we’ve arrived. Passengers who need to get off, please take your belongings and exit in order.” The announcement, thick with the local accent, sounded through the bus as people stood and gathered their things.

Zhang Kai put down his phone and looked out the window at the rolling green mountains and the faintly visible, underdeveloped town. He sighed, shouldered his backpack, and got off the bus.

After leaving Mount Wudang, Zhang Kai had sought out many people who had performed good deeds—those who had saved someone from drowning, fought off criminals, or rescued people from the brink of death—deeds of immense virtue.

Yet none of these people had triggered any reaction from the Investiture of the Gods. Perhaps their virtue was insufficient, or perhaps for some other reason.

After several failed attempts, Zhang Kai’s confidence began to waver. Maybe he was overthinking it.

Recently, he had seen news about an elderly teacher from a poor region in Jizhou, who had volunteered as a teacher for over forty years and was now critically ill, moving the entire nation.

This teacher, from a scholarly family and one of the first university graduates after the founding of the country, had given up a comfortable life to teach in the impoverished mountains of Jizhou, dedicating his entire life to education.

The report said that the teacher’s father had once been sent here for labor reform after surviving a great calamity, and the two of them had been cared for by the villagers. After his father died, the teacher, out of gratitude, refused all better offers and returned to teach in this remote area.

Now stricken with late-stage cancer, there was no hope of recovery.

Moreover, he had never married or had children, his entire life devoted to selfless service, earning widespread praise and admiration.

Upon hearing the news, Zhang Kai immediately set out.

He decided this would be his final attempt.

If even this couldn’t move the Investiture of the Gods, then damn it, he might as well burn the thing and be done with it.