Chapter One: Endless Lifespan, Eternal Youth

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Morning.

Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market.

Slivers of sunlight poured down from the sky, casting a gentle glow over the entire Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market.

As the sun rose, the market gradually came alive.

Shadows mingled and crossed.

On the not-so-wide street, cries of vendors echoed from all directions.

“Low-grade Earth Talisman! Essential for home protection! Five spirit stones each!”

“Spirit rice! Homegrown spirit rice, one spirit stone for ten jin!”

“Low-grade beast meat, one spirit stone for two jin!”

...

The spring breeze carried a trace of chill as passersby hurried along the street.

Only the vendors watched the crowd with hopeful eyes, eager for business.

He Song tugged at his sleeves, his gaze sweeping over the people around him. After lingering by the spirit rice stall, he reluctantly looked away and turned his attention to the ordinary rice displayed beside it.

Spirit rice was delicious, and it could enhance one’s cultivation.

But with his pockets nearly empty, filling his stomach took precedence.

“Senior, please weigh me twenty jin of ordinary rice,” He Song said as he approached the rice stall.

“All right, two spirit sand coins.”

Spirit sand was a currency smaller than spirit stones—a single spirit stone could be exchanged for one hundred grains of spirit sand.

As for mundane silver or gold, such things were worthless in the world of cultivation.

Here, only items infused with spiritual energy held value, and the smallest unit was spirit sand.

The vendor was an old man, appearing frail, but the pressure of spiritual energy emanating from him made He Song uneasy.

Seeing that He Song only bought twenty jin of ordinary rice, the old man said nothing more, simply placed the rice into a bundle, and handed it over.

He Song retrieved two spirit sand coins from his sleeve—already prepared—completing the transaction with a swift exchange.

Carrying his twenty jin of rice, He Song finally felt a weight lifted from his heart.

He didn’t even glance at the other stalls.

Turning, he headed straight for the exit of the market district.

“My first outing, and it went smoothly,” He Song mused as he walked, rice in hand, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

Although his predecessor’s memories had told him that killing was forbidden in Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market, knowing was one thing; actually stepping into a strange new world filled him with unease.

He Song was a transmigrator.

Three days ago, he had crossed into this world, inhabiting the body of a first-level Qi Refining cultivator.

Fortunately, the body’s former owner was also named He Song. After absorbing his predecessor’s memories, He Song spent three days at home, perfectly replicating the former owner’s habits and routines.

This was the world of cultivation.

Soul possession was not uncommon.

With his life at stake, He Song couldn’t afford to be careless his first time leaving home.

If his possession were discovered, he’d likely be cut down as a demonic cultivator on the spot.

Only after three days of practice and reinforcing his memories, confident that nothing seemed amiss, did He Song finally step outside, gazing upon this familiar yet alien land of cultivation with his own eyes for the first time.

He Song’s residence wasn’t far from the market district.

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After walking with the rice for a while and confirming no one was following him, He Song returned home.

He shut the door.

Locked it.

Leaning against the door, He Song let out a slow breath.

“Ah, a society ruled by law truly is better—at least you don’t have to worry about losing your life for no reason.”

“But... if I hadn’t transmigrated, I suppose by now I’d be figuring out how to turn myself in for the best protection?”

“Eternal life isn’t easy to hide in the modern world.”

He Song tossed the bag of rice aside, and suddenly, a black panel with white lettering appeared before him—visible to him alone.

Name: He Song.

Lifespan: Infinite.

A transmigrator’s golden finger.

Such things were only natural.

He Song, well-read in novels, was hardly surprised by a golden finger like this.

However, this black-and-white panel before him was not the sort that granted instant, godlike power.

In fact, its function seemed almost trivial to He Song.

Infinite lifespan.

Eternal youth.

It sounded wonderful.

How many human emperors and illustrious nobles pursued immortality in their twilight years?

But... for someone at the very bottom of the cultivation world, with only first-level Qi Refining, such an ability was rather trivial.

Who, throughout history, has truly sought immortality?

Human emperors.

Nobles of great power.

Wealthy merchants.

Ancient clans of a thousand years.

What did they have in common?

High status, able to savor all that life offered, holding power over the world.

So long as they lived, their splendid lives would continue.

But has any ordinary person at society’s lowest rung ever truly yearned for immortality?

An old beggar wishing for eternal life, only to beg for ten thousand years?

A courtesan seeking immortality, entertaining guests for millennia?

A farmer longing for endless years, toiling the fields for ages?

A corporate wage slave desiring immortality, laboring endlessly for eons?

Is masochism really so strong?

Even with eternal life and infinite lifespan, one still needs to live.

Injuries can still kill. Poison can still kill. Hunger and illness remain fatal.

And everything—food, medicine, housing—costs money.

In such circumstances, for someone at the very bottom, immortality isn’t as wonderful as it might seem.

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Of course, if one were already born into nobility, it would be a different story; and indeed, those who seek immortality are almost always nobles.

Thus, to He Song, this golden finger seemed rather lackluster.

Still, he wasn’t discouraged.

This world, unlike his previous one, offered something capable of defying fate itself.

Cultivation!

Cultivation is unlike anything else.

So long as you have time, and can keep absorbing spiritual energy, your cultivation will steadily increase.

And as your cultivation grows, so does your status, your place in the social hierarchy, and your power.

Right now, He Song’s cultivation was at first-level Qi Refining, his status as low as could be in the world of cultivation.

But if he broke through to Foundation Establishment, his status would change overnight.

And with every further advancement, his standing would rise accordingly.

This was the true means to change one’s fate!

So long as you live long enough, your status will only ever rise—no one will question you, and none would dare suppress you.

Power is the true foundation of all status!

...

“Sigh, right now, what matters most is earning spirit stones.”

Shaking his head to dispel his thoughts, He Song sighed softly, then picked up the bag of rice and stood.

He poured the rice into the nearly empty jar.

He gazed around the now-familiar room—his home from now on.

The place was rented.

Ten spirit stones a month—not cheap.

For He Song at present, it was very expensive.

The Immortal Market never cared whether itinerant cultivators could afford rooms.

Such high rent was a test—a way for the market to “screen” for worthy cultivators.

If you can’t pay, you’re out. Go live as a wanderer.

The spiritual energy outside was thinner.

The dangers outside were greater.

The mortality rate outside was higher.

But at least, you wouldn’t have to pay such high rent.

After searching through his person and the house for a while, He Song stared at the thirty-odd spirit stones on his table, falling into deep thought.

If it were just the rent, this would cover three months.

But if he added food, drink, and the cost of learning a trade, He Song feared he’d soon be out on the street.