In the Qingzhou cultivation world, within the Nine Perches Mountains, stood Emerald Maple Mountain.
A white-bearded old man hurried down from the mountaintop.
His steps did not seem fast, but with a single unhurried stride, he advanced more than ten meters.
This old man was Gu Wanhao, a Foundation Establishment expert of the local Gu Clan.
A look of joy graced his face as he reached the foot of the mountain, retrieved a flying sword from the Storage Bag at his waist, and stepped upon it.
He sped away instantly, leaving only a faint red afterglow trailing in the sky.
Gu Wanhao flew east.
A quarter of an hour later, he reached his destination: Jade Clear Town.
Jade Clear Town was where the mortal members of the Gu Clan resided.
The Gu Clan maintained seven such towns and villages, supporting a total population exceeding one million.
Gu Wanhao had journeyed to Jade Clear Town because a beloved grandson was about to celebrate his birthday.
He placed great value on family ties, and with no pressing matters demanding his attention, he had no intention of missing the boy’s special day.
He steered his flight directly into the courtyard of a residence adorned with blue tiles and red eaves.
As it happened, a young maid was idling in the courtyard.
Startled by the sudden descent of an immortal elder, she dropped to her knees in an instant.
“Greetings, Immortal!
This servant did not know an immortal was arriving and failed to welcome you properly.
Please forgive this offense!” Gu Wanhao stroked his beard.
“There is no need for alarm.
Where is my son, Gu Shan?” The maid did not dare look up and answered respectfully, “Master is in the study.” With a sweep of his wide sleeves, the old man vanished from the spot.
Inside the study, a handsome man in brocade robes sat in a chair, accompanied by a beautiful woman and a boy who looked about seven or eight.
The boy’s brows and eyes bore a resemblance to the brocade-robed man, while his lips and nose favored the woman.
One could tell at a glance that he was the couple’s child.
The family of three appeared to be waiting for someone.
The man stood up, paced anxiously back and forth across the room several times, and then sat back down with a furrowed brow.
“Husband, there is no need for worry.
Tomorrow is Huan’er’s birthday.” The woman tried to reassure him, but she was clearly even more nervous, twisting her handkerchief almost out of shape.
“Father, do not fret!
Grandfather likes me the best; he will surely come tomorrow.” The young boy offered his own reassuring words.
Gu Shan, the brocade-robed man, patted his young son’s head and said, “Indeed, your grandfather is most fond of our Huan’er.” Gu Huan let out a disgruntled huff.
He was a boy, nearly seven already, yet his parents still called him Huan’er all day long.
It was so annoying.
Gu Shan sighed again and turned to his wife.
“Neither of us has been blessed with much luck.
Though we are direct descendants of cultivators, we have no spiritual roots and cannot cultivate.
We cannot stay by our parents to care for them, nor can we protect the clan.
All we can do is provide descendants.
Yet after more than ten years of marriage and more than ten children, not one has spiritual roots.
We simply haven’t had that luck.” Spiritual roots were the foundation of cultivation.
Without them, a mortal could spend an entire lifetime striving without ever touching the great Dao.
“Fewer than one in ten thousand mortals have spiritual roots.
Even for descendants of cultivators like us, having a child with spiritual roots is no easy matter.” The woman sighed.
Her name was Fang Yurong, and there had been cultivators in the preceding three generations of her family.
Like Gu Shan, however, she had missed the fortune required to tread the path of longevity.
Her parents had eventually arranged her marriage to Gu Shan.
Though Gu Shan had taken two concubines after their union, her position remained secure, and their affection had remained steady through the years, blessed with three sons.
Regrettably, their first two sons possessed no spiritual roots.
Young Gu Huan glanced at his parents, his round eyes darting about.
It was hard to tell what he was thinking.
“Before you conceived Huan’er, your vitality was badly depleted.
Yet during those ten months of pregnancy, your health improved so much that you even reached the Xiantian Realm.
We suspected Huan’er might have spiritual roots, but that was only our guess.
If even he has none, how will we hold our heads up?” Gu Shan sighed again.
Gu Huan would turn seven on his birthday, old enough to have his spiritual roots tested.
But Gu Shan could not settle his nerves and grew increasingly anxious.
His cousin Gu Song, similarly born as a direct descendant without roots, had been blessed with a firstborn son who possessed them.
By comparison, Gu Shan had fathered more than ten children without spiritual roots and felt he had little standing even to speak.
“Hold your heads up?!
You are my son, Gu Wanhao’s son!
Your father isn’t dead yet—who would dare gossip about you?!” The study doors swung open as Gu Wanhao strode inside, taking his seat in the master’s chair.
“Father!” “Father!” “Grandfather is here!
I told mother and father you would come, but they wouldn’t believe me!” Gu Huan spoke with immense satisfaction, thoroughly pleased with himself.
Gu Wanhao patted the boy’s hair before shifting his gaze to the couple.
“Whether one possesses spiritual roots is determined by the heavens; it is not something human strength can alter.
But blood and kinship are truths that nothing can change.
“You are my flesh and blood.
Regardless of whether you have roots, I will keep you secure.
Had you possessed them, I would have poured my utmost into aiding your cultivation.
Yet because you do not, have I ever treated you with indifference?
If Huan’er has roots, it is a cause for joy, but if he does not, is he any less your son?” Gu Wanhao spoke with profound earnestness.
Unlike many cultivators, he held family bonds in high regard.
Though clan regulations prevented him from dwelling directly with his son, he visited whenever he could spare the time.
“You are right, Father.
I have been too caught up in this.
Whether Huan’er has spiritual roots or not, he is my son, and I will treat him well.” Gu Shan looked ashamed.
“Grandfather, do not scold father; he treats us all very well!” Gu Huan tugged at Gu Wanhao’s sleeve, looking a little frightened.
“Very well.
This time I brought the Spirit-Testing Ruler along precisely to test Huan’er’s potential.
It is only a pity that Sheng’er is barely past six; otherwise, the two brothers might have been tested together.” The Sheng’er whom Gu Wanhao mentioned was a child born to one of Gu Shan’s concubines, whom the old man also favored.
Producing the Spirit-Testing Ruler, Gu Wanhao revealed a slender, jade-like tablet.
Eight distinct colored bands ran down its length, marked with precise calibrations.
The Spirit-Testing Ruler could detect whether someone had spiritual roots and was an essential magical artifact for every clan and sect.
At his grandfather’s signal, Gu Huan placed his palm against the tablet.
Three breaths later, the ruler shone with five colors: gold, blue, green, red, and brown.
“Huan’er has spiritual roots!” The couple were overjoyed.
Even with five spiritual roots, their son could still pursue longevity!
Spiritual roots served as the bridge for cultivation, while their breadth determined the speed of advancement.
In simple terms, the root acted as a conduit through which a cultivator absorbed the spiritual Qi of heaven and earth.
A broader root allowed for swift absorption, whereas a narrow one slowed the intake, demanding far greater time to achieve results.
Gu Wanhao watched Gu Huan gravely as the test continued.
The five-colored light climbed slowly upward, passing the six-cun mark.
Six cun, seven, eight.
Above the eight-cun mark, the light rose even more slowly.
Gu Shan and his wife were both sweating profusely.
“Nine cun and nine fen.
Five spiritual roots, with all five elements evenly balanced.” Gu Wanhao stroked his beard, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling into a smile.
In the cultivation world, four and five spiritual roots were also known as pseudo spirit roots.
Gu Huan’s root type was extremely poor, but their breadth worked in his favor.
With diligent cultivation and Gu Wanhao’s support, he still had hope of reaching Foundation Establishment.
Even so…
“It is wonderful news that Huan’er has spiritual roots.
I brought some ingredients; take them to the kitchen, and we’ll all enjoy a meal together tonight.” With a wave of his hand, a heap of fish and meat appeared on the table, looking very fresh.
“Indeed, Father!
I shall have the kitchen attend to it at once!” Gu Shan happily gathered up the fish and meat, and Fang Yurong came forward to help.
There was plenty to carry, but both were Xiantian Realm experts and thought nothing of the weight.
After sending the couple away, Gu Wanhao lifted Gu Huan onto the master’s chair and took out a pearl-like bead.
“Grandfather, what is this?
Is it another treasure?” Gu Huan looked at the bead in his grandfather’s hand.
There were many pearls at home, but this one looked larger and prettier.
“Clever boy.
I prepared this especially for you.
It can test whether you have a special spiritual body.
If you do, you’ll become more powerful in the future—perhaps even more powerful than your grandfather.”