Chapter Ten: The Five Immortals of Mount Shu

The Mount Shu Immortal Sect is the most coveted sacred place for cultivation among all the common folk. With a long and illustrious history, it has produced countless outstanding cultivators over the generations. More than that, Mount Shu represents peace and justice, bearing the solemn duty of maintaining harmony in the world and eradicating evil.

Every ten years, the sect holds a grand disciple recruitment assembly, and this decade’s event will commence at the end of the month. The great empires and prominent families have already selected their finest talents to await the opening of the recruitment at the foot of Mount Shu. Candidates must be between ten and forty years old, with no restrictions on their background.

Those who pass the rigorous trials become official disciples of the Mount Shu Cultivation Academy, embarking on a five-year training regimen within its halls. Meanwhile, the ten elders of Mount Shu select the most exceptional of these recruits to become inner disciples, nurturing them with secret cultivation manuals and potent elixirs to enhance their immortal power. These inner disciples command immense respect and are held in high esteem by both empires and noble clans.

Outer disciples, on the other hand, may train at Mount Shu but are often assigned to oversee important hubs or choose to return to their families to advance their lineage. Those who return often enjoy elder status within their clans and receive lavish support.

In addition to royal kin and noble families, Mount Shu also accepts commoners and wandering cultivators, making the decade’s recruitment assembly a bustling, vibrant occasion.

At the foot of Mount Shu lies Jinlu City, the world’s largest center for alchemical medicine trade, directly governed by the sect. It serves as the gateway to Mount Shu and the registration and testing site for the recruitment assembly beginning tomorrow.

Jinlu City bustles with endless streams of people and vehicles. Among the throng are pedestrians journeying by foot, riders on horseback or donkeys, passengers in horse-drawn carriages and ox carts, and grand entourages escorting noble families and royal scions. The attire varies widely—from resplendent silks and fine robes of the aristocracy to simple hemp garments and straw sandals of commoners. Veiled minorities mingle with masked cultists, and skin tones range from the fair northern folk to the dark-skinned inhabitants of the southern Yue lands, and even the jet-black slaves of Kunlun.

Most carry long swords on their backs, but others bear guqin zithers, flutes, fans, broadswords, or even small iron shovels or peculiar spades. Cultivation places no strict limits on weaponry; proficiency and the ability to wield them in flight define a qualified cultivator. Truly, the city hosts a cross-section of all social strata.

Near the entrance to Mount Shu Immortal Sect, nestled amidst verdant trees and red blossoms, stands a grand tavern named “Drunken Long Wind.” Crafted entirely of wood, its façade is adorned with blooming potted plants and encircled by clear waters. Carved wooden windows open in pairs, allowing diners to admire the serene greenery and mountains beyond.

Though the tavern’s exterior is simple and elegant, inside the furnishings are of polished wood, with fine porcelain tableware. The walls are hung with calligraphy and paintings by famous artists. The decor bespeaks a refined owner with discerning tastes.

This tavern is the closest lodging to Mount Shu and features a spacious plaza beside the main entrance, where all recruitment candidates must register for the grand trial.

Within, the tavern hums with lively conversation and clinking cups, all discussing the imminent Mount Shu recruitment and the celebrated assemblies of past realms.

“Word is, the previous recruitment unearthed a prodigy,” said a sturdy young man of about twenty, exuding youthful vigor, as he spoke mysteriously to his table companions near the right window.

Another young man leaned forward anxiously, “Tell us more about that genius!”

“Patience, let me tell you slowly,” the sturdy youth named Niu Zhuangzhuang replied, savoring a mouthful of food before continuing. “I was only ten during the last recruitment and took part myself. That boy looked about eleven or twelve, wearing a silver mask that covered his entire face—but his bearing was unmatched…”

“Then what happened?” someone pressed.

Niu Zhuangzhuang recalled, “On the testing stone, his potential was rated at level ten. In the second round, his martial strength was also level ten. For a boy around ten, you have to know that in nearly a thousand years, the highest score ever recorded for these two tests was nine. I was eliminated in the first round.”

“Pfft,” came a chorus of scoffs. “If you were knocked out early, how do you know what happened later?”

A round-faced boy with two dimples smiled and chimed in, “That boy passed all three rounds and was admitted as a disciple of the Cultivation Academy. Five years later, he was chosen by the Mount Shu Sect Leader as the sole inner disciple.”

The crowd around them gasped in awe.

Being selected as an inner disciple by the ten elders was already an honor worthy of reverence, but to be the only inner disciple personally chosen by the Sect Leader? Such a distinction demanded extraordinary talent.

The current Sect Leader of Mount Shu had only ever recruited one inner disciple in the past three centuries, and this was only the second time in four hundred years he had done so. What caliber of genius could earn such favor?

“Sir, may I ask your name? And what is the name of that prodigy?” a slender young scholar at a nearby table politely inquired.

The round-faced boy chuckled and said, “I am Han Ruge; just call me Ruge. The boy’s name is Feng Qingcheng, the ninth prince of the Phoenix Empire. The previous recruitment produced several heroic youths, some so outstanding they were called the Five Immortals of Mount Shu.”

The scholar bowed politely. “I am Mu Xiaotian, pleased to meet you. May I ask who the Five Immortals are?”

Ruge was about to answer when suddenly his eyes glazed over as he stared dumbfounded toward the tavern’s entrance.

Following his gaze, the others were equally stunned.

In the bright sunlight at the tavern entrance, four tall, strikingly handsome youths approached, all clad in the robes of Mount Shu’s inner disciples.

Leading them was a slender lad with long, narrow phoenix-like eyes beneath sharp sword-arched brows. His gaze was deep and reserved, exuding a cold, noble aura. His high nose, beautifully curved pale lips, and flawless porcelain skin formed a visage of unparalleled beauty. Clad in snow-white robes, he radiated a refined, ethereal elegance. With every subtle gesture, he revealed an unmatched grace.

The crowd silently admired him: truly a refined and elegant youth! Wherever he went, the world seemed to lose its color, as if he illuminated all in his path—a jade-like stranger, peerless among gentlemen.

Behind him came three others: one in a moonlit long robe, waving a fan painted with ink and color, bearing a cherubic, smiling face and a playful, carefree demeanor; another in a pale blue robe with fair skin, peach blossom eyes, red lips, carrying a guqin, handsome and refined; the last donned a light gray robe, with sword-shaped brows and starry eyes, dignified and cold, carrying a slender, unusual ruler.

The tavern owner rushed over to personally greet them, bowing and leading the four to a reserved guest table by the window, enclosed by a waist-high carved railing. Their brilliance seemed to illuminate the entire hall.

Faced with such distinguished figures, the crowd hushed their voices, replaced by bursts of awe: “Wow!” “Ah!”—the exclamations of men.

“Oh! So handsome!”

“I can’t breathe; my heart races.”

“Are they gods or mortals? Am I dreaming?”—the girls’ delighted whispers.

“That first one is Feng Qingcheng, the prodigy from the last recruitment,” an experienced youth exclaimed loudly.

“No wonder… no wonder…” others murmured in amazement.

“Who are the other three?” someone whispered, “With such extraordinary talent, they can’t be ordinary.”

Ruge snapped out of his trance and quietly introduced them to those nearby: “These four are four of the Five Immortals of Mount Shu, the top five prodigious youths from the last recruitment. The one with the fan is Hua Qiandu, prince of the Peacock Empire, famed for his lightness skill, taken as an inner disciple by the Fourth Elder. The one with the guqin is Qiao Chuya, prince of the Loulan Empire in the west, whose guqin can kill unseen, chosen by the Great Elder. The one wielding the ruler is the scion of the Mei family, head of the four great clans from the East Sea, taken by the Seventh Elder. The fifth immortal, Murong Yiwen, is absent today and is a disciple of the Medicine Sect Elder. These four were the outstanding talents from last time and have been entrusted with overseeing this recruitment.”

Someone sighed, “With such exceptional figures at Mount Shu, the world is truly blessed.”

“I must pass the exam this year, no matter what,” Niu Zhuangzhuang sighed. “To be a fellow disciple with these geniuses, my life will be fulfilled.”

His words echoed the passionate aspirations of all present.

“Oh my god, I must pass!” the girls’ eyes sparkled with countless pink stars, eager to join the trials immediately.

At a guest table by the right window sat two elegant young ladies. One wore a pale yellow silk dress, her hair styled in twin buns, skin as white as snow, eyebrows like dark ink, her striking features so beautiful they held all eyes captive. The other donned a light green silk gown, pale and slender-faced, with small eyes brimming with arrogant disdain. Behind each stood rows of servants and guards, clearly women of high status.

Countless men’s gazes burned with desire upon the yellow-clad beauty, while women’s looks were laced with envy and jealousy.

Yet the yellow-robed maiden’s eyes were cold and proud, only lighting up with pure joy when Feng Qingcheng and his companions entered.

“Yiyi, my cousin has arrived. Should I go greet him?” The yellow-robed girl suddenly stood, hesitated, then sat again, bowing her head as she softly asked the green-robed girl opposite her.

The girl in green curled her lips, “There will be plenty of chances once you enter Mount Shu Immortal Sect. No need to rush.”

After a moment’s thought, the yellow-robed girl remained seated, her beautiful eyes fixed longingly on Feng Qingcheng and the others.

“Who is that stunning yellow-robed girl?” someone quietly asked.

“She’s Nalan Meidai, the most favored princess of the Turkic Empire,” came the whispered reply. “A martial prodigy herself, only sixteen, here to take the recruitment exam this decade.” A chorus of gasps followed.

“Niu Zhuangzhuang, what’s wrong? Why are you flushed and sweating so much? Are you ill?” Han Ruge asked, tapping his companion’s shoulder with concern.

Niu Zhuangzhuang had been lost in thought about Feng Qingcheng and had not noticed the yellow-robed beauty until now. Hearing others discuss her, he glanced back and was instantly entranced, his heart and mind filled with her image.

He murmured, “My breathing grows difficult, my heart races, and my chest feels like it’s being clawed by cats. Am I… am I sick?”

“Brother, you’re sick alright—you’re a toad lusting after a swan,” someone laughed heartily, clapping him on the shoulder.

Niu Zhuangzhuang did not retort, but quietly lowered his head, his heart pounding fiercely, his thoughts consumed by the vision of the yellow-robed beauty.