As everyone knows, the Sword Sect is famous for being a ‘poverty household’ in the cultivation world.
I took a look at the Heavenly Sword Sect’s booth~
Sure enough, there wasn’t a single person signing up.
I tugged at the white-bearded Elder: “Can you really not let me into the Qingyun Sect? Even as a chore disciple works.”
The white-bearded Elder shook his head: “First, you’re too young; second, your spiritual roots are poor; third, you don’t even have the registration fee, let alone the fact that after joining the sect, you have to earn most of your cultivation resources yourself. Even if you come to do chores, doing chores won’t give you much of a future.”
I hurriedly waved my hands: “I don’t need a great future, as long as I can see your Sect Leader!”
The white-bearded Elder smiled: “As a chore disciple, you won’t get a single chance to see the Sect Leader in your entire life.”
Me: “…”
The white-bearded Elder patted my head: “Go, child, go find the Grand Dao that suits you.”
I took one step forward and turned back three times.
I wondered, if I couldn’t see my mom, did that mean I had to go back to the Demon Realm?
Back to the Demon Realm to keep eating porridge? Or follow my brother to go mining?
I shivered.
Suddenly, I caught sight of seven large words written on the Heavenly Sword Sect’s booth: No Tuition, Board and Lodging Included!
I pitter-pattered over: “Is tuition really free? Is board and lodging included?”
Seeing me, the handsome men from yesterday lit up: “Little sister, it’s you!”
I nodded: “The Qingyun Sect doesn’t want me. Can you take me in?”
The handsome man with the ponytail smiled until his eyes curved like crescent moons: “Of course we can take you! Come, come, take a test!”
And so, I went through the test once more.
When they saw I had Five Spiritual Roots, they were a bit disappointed.
But seeing my exemplary bone structure, they were overjoyed as if they had stumbled upon a treasure.
Eldest Senior Brother looked at the test results, then at me, pondering for a moment: “A sword cultivator’s life is very bitter—every day involves practicing the sword, meditating, and tempering the body. Are you truly willing to join the Heavenly Sword Sect?”
I thought about the throne with three big cracks in my dad’s Demon Palace.
Then I thought about my brother’s boots that were almost worn through with holes~
I then nodded solemnly: “I’m willing! As long as board and lodging are included!”
Eldest Senior Brother smiled—a smile so handsome you couldn’t take your eyes off it: “Alright, starting today, you are the Little Junior Sister of the Heavenly Sword Sect!”
The ponytail beauty cheered, picking me up and spinning me around in a circle: “We have a Little Junior Sister! The Heavenly Sword Sect’s first female disciple in a hundred years!”
He spun me dizzy, but my heart felt warm.
Even though I didn’t find Mom, at least…
I had a place that covered room and board.
Although the Heavenly Sword Sect is poor, it doesn’t matter.
I comforted myself: Every big boss has a grassroot experience they’d rather not look back on.
My dad once said that when he was young, he also started out as a low-ranking soldier in the Demon Realm, and his daily job was wiping boots for the Demon Lord (his father).
Back then, my dad spoke with earnest advice: “What does this prove? It proves that perseverance brings victory, and wiping boots can wipe out a future!”
My brother poked a hole in his story from the side: “It proves Grandfather only had one son.”
My dad: “…”
In short, grassroot experience is very important.
And right now, I am going through my grassroot phase.
…………………………
The handsome man with the ponytail set me down, and my senior brothers gathered around me, staring at me as if I were some kind of rare animal.
— “By the way, Little Junior Sister, what’s your name?”
— “Fu Pin.”
— “Fu Pin? Good name! Sounds like it was given by a cultured person!”
Me: “…My dad gave it to me.”
— “Then your dad must be very cultured!”
I thought about how my dad couldn’t even draw a map properly: “…Nn, maybe.”
They began introducing themselves:
I bowed politely: “Hello, Third Senior Brother!”
Thinking to myself: This name… why does it sound like someone running a promotional sale?
I bowed politely: “Hello, Fourth Senior Brother!”
Thinking to myself: Hearing this name, he’s definitely of the Fire attribute. He must be really good at cooking, right?
I bowed politely: “Hello, Fifth Senior Brother!”
Thinking to myself: This surname sounds a lot like the tragic male lead #2 in tragic romantic novels—destined to love without being loved back, silently protecting, and ultimately having to help raise the female lead’s child.
I hope Fifth Senior Brother doesn’t end up like that in the future.
I froze for a moment: “The youngest among you is 98?”
Gu Chenguang nodded, his baby face filled with life’s vicissitudes: “Yeah, 98, but still just a child.”
Me: “…”
A 98-year-old child?
Then what am I at three years and one month old?
An embryo?
I couldn’t help asking: “What is the standard age for minors in the cultivation world?”
Gu Chenguang: “Anyone under three hundred years old is considered a youth.”
Fine then.
My dad is three thousand years old and still considers himself a young talented gentleman. You guys being considered youths at three hundred years old makes total sense.
He stood there with a cool, aloof aura, his white robes as pure as snow. The patches on his cuffs were neatly sewn with fine, tight stitches.
Eldest Senior Brother looked at me, his eyes gentle as a spring breeze: “Shen Qingchen, ranked first, 110 years old, Chief Disciple of the Heavenly Sword Sect, Early-stage Nascent Soul.”
I bowed politely: “Hello, Eldest Senior Brother.”
Thinking to myself: As expected of Eldest Senior Brother, even his name carries such elegance. Qingchen—as poor as dust.
The handsome man with the ponytail, Third Senior Brother Su Ning, immediately added: “Our Eldest Senior Brother is the number one genius in the cultivation world! Entering the Nascent Soul stage at just a hundred years old!”
I blinked: “Is Nascent Soul… very powerful?”
Everyone: “…………”
Shen Qingchen coughed softly: “It’s just… more powerful than Golden Core.”
Me: “Oh.”
Completely no concept of it.
Shen Qingchen patted my head, then reached out…
He picked me up in his arms: “Since we’ve recruited a disciple, let’s head back. I doubt anyone else will show up anyway.”
Me: “…Isn’t that a bit too hasty?”
Third Senior Brother Su Ning: “Little Junior Sister, our Heavenly Sword Sect emphasizes fate and destiny—we don’t force anything. Since our fate has aligned, let’s go home!”
Home.
That single word made my nose tingle with a sudden sting.
My dad returned me like defective goods, my mom entered secluded cultivation and wouldn’t see me—I thought I didn’t have a home anymore.
But now, this group of poor-as-dirt senior brothers wearing patched clothes were saying they’d take me home!
I sniffled and nodded.
The senior brothers all pulled out their swords to practice sword-flight.
I looked down at their swords and was completely shocked.
Although their clothes were in rags and their shoes had holes, every single one of their swords was ridiculously gorgeous.
Eldest Senior Brother Shen Qingchen’s sword was pure silvery-white, a flowing radiance shimmering across its blade. The hilt was embedded with an unknown gemstone that refracted seven-colored light under the sun.
Third Senior Brother Su Ning’s sword was a vibrant teal-green with vines carved into the hilt—so lifelike it clearly wasn’t an ordinary item.
Fourth Senior Brother Yan Chuan’s sword… wait, isn’t that a broadsword?! It’s as big as a door panel! Fiery red, with a menacing dragon crest engraved on the spine.
Fifth Senior Brother Murong Zhuo’s sword was pure gold, bling-blinging enough to blind someone’s eyes.
Sixth Senior Brother Gu Chenguang’s sword was ice-blue, emitting wisps of cold frost.
I asked cautiously: “Your swords… are very expensive, aren’t they?”
Shen Qingchen nodded: “A sword cultivator can be poor, but their sword cannot.”
Me: “So all your money went into your swords?”
All the senior brothers nodded in unison, their expressions as solemn as if they were reading out a oath of allegiance to the sect.
Third Senior Brother Su Ning: “A sword is a sword cultivator’s life!”
Fourth Senior Brother Yan Chuan: “If the sword stands, I stand; if the sword dies, I die!”
Fifth Senior Brother Murong Zhuo: “Our sword is our Dao companion! How could we ever mistreat our Dao companion?”
Sixth Senior Brother Gu Chenguang: “Even though my ‘Dao companion’ was scored at a second-hand market last year at a 30% discount, I love it dearly!”
Me: “…”
Fine then.
I pretty much get it now.
This group of people belong to the legendary category of “would rather starve than give up buying luxury items.”
This is an illness—it needs treatment.
But I didn’t say it out loud.
Because I’m one of them now, too.
Shen Qingchen held me and stepped onto his sword: “Little Junior Sister, hold on tight.”
I lay nestled in his arms, watching as the sword gradually rose.
Sword-flight!
This was my very first time flying on a sword!
Although my dad could fly too, he either formed wings out of demonic aura or just teleported directly.
He said sword-flight was too troublesome, and you had to buy a sword first.
My brother could do it too, but he usually rode a minecart instead.
The sword flew higher and higher. Shen Qingchen activated a protective barrier; warm breeze blew through, making it extraordinarily comfortable.
And then, I fell asleep.
After all, I was only three years and one month old.
Having traveled on foot for ten days, followed by testing spiritual roots and mindset, I had long been exhausted.
By the time I woke up, two days had already passed.