Yan Zhengming casually swept his gaze over Cheng Qian from head to toe, as if looking over a horse at a market. After that, perhaps thinking he was still being too conspicuous, he nodded indifferently and tossed out a line to his newly admitted junior brother, completely ignoring everyone else's reactions.
He bluntly declared, "Not bad. Just don't end up growing crippled."
After saying that, the young master reluctantly waved his hand over Cheng Qian's head in a show of senior-brotherly affection, pretending to give him a pat. Then, with obvious disinterest, he added, "Those 'wronged' and 'pitiful' types, I've seen enough. Master, take them with you. Xiao Yu'er—give them some pine nut candies, let them both have a handful."
Master Mu Chun's face twitched at this. He suddenly had the oddest feeling—like instead of bringing in new disciples, he had brought back two country girls from some remote village to show off.
…And not even the pretty kind.
The pine nut candies weren't ordinary either. Each portion came in a delicate embroidered sachet, full to the brim, the candy itself coated in a clear sugary glaze that glistened like glass. A faint floral scent lingered in the air—it was enough to make the mouth water.
Poor kids like Cheng Qian had never seen anything like it. But he didn't hesitate. As soon as they were handed over, he shoved both the sachet and the candy into Han Yuan's hands and said casually, "Give these to your siblings back home."
His so-called "generosity" left Han Yuan stunned. He accepted the sachet with mixed emotions, a little flustered.
As a street orphan, Han Yuan had grown up fighting for every scrap of food. When you're struggling to survive, no one has the luxury of being kind. You lived like a stray dog—alone.
His chest warmed. Deeply moved, Han Yuan immediately developed a profound misunderstanding: maybe this younger brother of his wasn't weak at all—he just didn't care about material things and genuinely cared for him.
But Mu Chun wasn't so easily fooled. He clearly saw Cheng Qian flick his hand in disgust after the pat on the head, as though something dirty had touched him. So humble and generous? Not likely—this little brat didn't even bother saving face for his senior brother.
Still, at this age, the greatest temptation for any kid was something as simple as food.
Mu Chun mused silently: "This brat has a hard heart. If he doesn't become a great cultivator one day, he'll definitely become a big problem."
And just like that, Cheng Qian officially entered the Fuyao Sect.
That first night, he slept in Qing'an Hall—a deep, dreamless sleep, free of nightmares or longing for home.
The next morning, Xue Qing dressed him in a disciple's robe and tied up his hair in a neat bun. He looked clean and proper—like a little gentleman.
Kids didn't normally need to wear their hair in such formal styles, but Xue Qing said that since he'd already entered an immortal sect, he couldn't be treated like an ordinary child anymore.
The main difference between a proper sect and a fraudulent one, Xue Qing explained, was that even if the Fuyao Sect had a questionable reputation, it still had some actual cultivation.
The first thing he introduced was the talisman system. According to legend, this place was covered in rare talismans—on trees, rocks, everywhere.
Xue Qing pointed to a talisman carved into a tree root and said, "If you ever get lost in the mountains, just ask these trees or stones for directions."
He stepped forward to demonstrate, speaking to the roots of the tree: "Please guide us to the Hall of Ignorance. That's the Sect Master's residence. The Third Master Uncle here has just joined, and today he'll receive his ordination."
Cheng Qian didn't reply. He was too busy staring in astonishment at the glowing tree roots.
The sky was still dark, and the light was faint—like scattered moonlight—tracing a clear, glowing path through the forest.
It wasn't the first magical tool Cheng Qian had seen, but it was the first useful one.
Xue Qing, skilled at reading people, didn't comment on his surprise. Instead, he said calmly, "Please, Third Master Uncle, follow the light."
As he walked along the luminous path, Cheng Qian felt like something inside him was changing. He was leaving his old life behind and stepping into a new one.
He asked, "Brother Xue Qing, who made all this?"
Xue Qing didn't bother correcting the title this time. "The Sect Master," he replied.
Cheng Qian was stunned. Until recently, he thought the head of the sect was just some weird, long-necked rooster—harmless and useless. But now… could he actually have real skills?
Could the master really summon wind and rain like in the stories?
Cheng Qian entertained the thought with some disbelief and reluctant curiosity—but still couldn't bring himself to truly revere the master.
Xue Qing led him to the Hall of Ignorance—Zhenren Mu Chun's residence.
The "Hall of Ignorance" turned out to be a small, shabby thatched hut—no mystical tools, no grand plaque. Just a palm-sized wooden sign at the entrance, with a strange beast head carved on it. It looked oddly familiar to Cheng Qian, though he couldn't quite place it. Next to it was a line of words: "Ask me anything, and I'll say I don't know."
The simplicity of the place reminded Cheng Qian of his countryside home. There was a small courtyard, a crooked wooden table with only three legs (the fourth replaced by a rock), and behind it sat the Sect Master himself, staring intently at a tray.
The tray was a crudely made dish with a few old copper coins scattered on it. Even the air around it seemed to grow colder.
Cheng Qian instinctively stopped walking. For the first time, he felt a hint of awe as he looked at the man focused on those coins.
Xue Qing smiled and asked, "What do the heavens say in today's divination, Master?"
The Sect Master gathered the coins solemnly and tucked his hands into his sleeves. With great ceremony, he answered, "The heavens say: today's lunch will include mushroom stew."
His beard twitched slightly, his small eyes rolled, and the tip of his nose wiggled like he was already smelling it.
Cheng Qian frowned. That expression felt familiar.
Then, like lightning, it hit him.
The creature on the wooden sign—it was a huángshǔláng (yellow weasel spirit)!
In the countryside, no one really distinguished between Daoist or Buddhist gods. They just worshiped whatever might bring blessings. "Huáng Dàxiān" referred to a yellow weasel spirit, said to protect homes. Cheng Qian had seen such shrines before in his village.
And now, looking at Mu Chun—long waist, short legs, skinny frame, beady eyes… he really did look like a weasel spirit!
With that awkward suspicion in mind, Cheng Qian stepped forward and bowed to his master, who may or may not have been a rodent.
Mu Chun waved it off cheerfully. "No need to be so stiff. We don't care much for formality around here."
Cheng Qian thought to himself, "You don't say. A mushroom stew divined from rusty coins?"
Just then, Han Yuan came bounding in.
"Master! Senior Brother!"
He ran in like he owned the place, loudly complaining, "Master, how can you live in such a rundown hut?"
He looked around the tiny courtyard like it was a treasure trove, then happily parked himself next to Cheng Qian.
Still touched by the pine nut candy from the day before, Han Yuan had decided Cheng Qian was a kind person. Without hesitation, he tugged at his sleeve affectionately. "Xiao Qian, why didn't you come play with me yesterday?"
Cheng Qian immediately stepped away, slipped his sleeve out of Han Yuan's grasp, and corrected him coldly, "Fourth Junior Brother."
Dressed neatly in adult robes, his smooth forehead and sharp brows gave him a delicate, almost jade-like appearance. If people made of jade could feel anything, perhaps a little coldness was to be expected.
Han Yuan didn't take offense. To him, Cheng Qian just seemed shy—someone who'd been well taken care of. And that was fine. He thought, "Kids from proper homes are just different. I'll look after him more from now on."
Despite his squinty eyes, Mu Chun saw everything clearly. He suddenly said, "Xiao Yuan, come here."
Han Yuan trotted over. "Yes, Master?"
Mu Chun studied him with rare seriousness. "Even though you joined later, you're older than your third senior brother. I have something to say to you."
Han Yuan straightened up.
Mu Chun said gravely, "You're clever and wild by nature, so I've given you the character 'Rock' to remind you—do not take shortcuts in the Dao. Stay humble. Be focused. Never slack off. Understand?"
Han Yuan scratched his nose, completely baffled by the speech. "Ah… got it!"