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Chapter 1: Master Chapter 01 – Becoming an Immortal Lord

Tianxuan Era, Year 5019 – Crane Dream Hall, Lingyun Peak

An Ran awoke in pain, slowly sitting up and realizing he was lying on a bed.

Looking down at himself, he saw he was dressed in a pale green silk robe. At that moment, someone called out from outside the door, “Master! You’re awake!”

A disciple brought him a cup of tea. He took it and sipped gently.

As a top agent of the Dimensional Management Bureau, this mission’s transmission was a disaster.

Not long ago, he had received an assignment: there were anomalies in the 238th dimensional plane. The system predicted that these would cause key figures to deviate from their set trajectories, leading to a collapse of the timeline. His task was to investigate and restore the flow of events.

But during the transfer, his soul was torn apart by an unexpected shielding force in the plane. He barely preserved his soul and ended up randomly inhabiting a body.

“Master, how did you fall ill so suddenly?” the disciple asked with concern.

Clearing his throat, An Ran replied, “My internal energy went astray during meditation. No matter. A few days of rest will do.”

In this plane, the key figure to the future of civilization was Xia Chenyu, personal disciple of Immortal Lord Lingyun from Lingxiao Palace—destined to become the Demon Lord a century later and destroy nearly all cultivators above Realman-level in a single battle.

And the body An Ran now occupied? It was that of Immortal Lord Lingyun—Yu Wanqiu. Out of countless lives in this world, he had become Xia Chenyu’s master!

“The new disciples are arriving soon. Since you’re unwell, Master, I’ll inform the Dean on your behalf,” the disciple offered.

Today was the very day Xia Chenyu would join the sect. An Ran couldn’t miss it.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll go.”

“But…” The disciple still wanted to argue, but An Ran waved him off. “You may go.”

Every three years, Lingxiao Palace accepted new disciples. Those with exceptional talent could enter directly under one of the three Immortal Lords. The rest trained in the outer sect, competing in future tournaments for the chance to become a personal disciple.

At the main plaza outside the main hall, the Dean and a few guardians were already guiding a group of children to stand in rows.

After paying respects to the three Immortal Lords, the Dean summoned a white lotus in his palm, spinning slowly. He addressed the children, “Next, I will test your spiritual roots.”

Each child stepped forward, stated their name, and had the lotus placed above their head. Its glow would reveal the type and quality of their spiritual root.

“Low-grade Earth Root,” the Dean announced as a child returned dejectedly.

“Mid-grade Water Root.”

After many tests, one boy stepped forward and announced his name: Xia Chenyu.

An Ran’s attention was immediately drawn. This child was supposed to have an empty root, unable to cultivate. He would enter the outer sect, suffer bullying and hardship, but channel that pain into determination—eventually standing out in the tournament and earning Yu Wanqiu’s favor.

But now, the lotus above Xia Chenyu’s head glowed bright gold.

The Dean blinked, then stammered, “H-High-grade Heavenly Root…”

An Ran thought he misheard. “What did you say?”

The other Immortal Lords were equally stunned. Yan Qinghong of the Azure Cloud stepped closer, demanding, “Repeat that.”

The Dean confirmed, “High-grade Heavenly Root. No doubt.”

Gasps and envy erupted from the crowd.

While others were shocked by the rare talent, An Ran was stunned by the timeline anomaly.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Lu Xiuyuan, the Violet Cloud Immortal Lord, stepped forward, eyes shining. “I’ll take this child.”

Yan Qinghong objected, “You already have two great disciples. I’ve yet to take even one!”

With the two Immortal Lords fighting over the boy, An Ran could no longer stay silent.

Xia Chenyu wasn’t supposed to be accepted for another four years. If someone else took him now, the mission would become far more difficult.

An Ran steadied himself and said, “Why not let me take him? You both have more disciples than I do.”

Lu Xiuyuan frowned, “Junior Brother, you’ve never cared about talent when taking disciples. Why the exception now?”

It was true. Yu Wanqiu had always followed strict rules: no disciples from noble families, none with weak wills, none with evil practices. Talent was never a deciding factor.

So when a spiritually deficient Xia Chenyu rose from the outer sect through hard work, he earned Yu Wanqiu’s favor.

An Ran smiled lightly, “I see perseverance in his eyes. He’s a good seedling.”

Yan Qinghong smirked, “A High-grade Heavenly Root is a once-in-a-century find. Looks like our junior brother finally gave in to convention.”

As the three vied for the boy, the Dean coughed awkwardly.

“May I suggest something?”

The three turned to him.

“Why not let the boy choose himself? That way, no one will be offended.”

Lu Xiuyuan hesitated, then released the boy’s hand. “Very well.”

Yan Qinghong looked displeased but said nothing more.

The Dean patted Xia Chenyu’s shoulder, “Normally, it’s the Immortals who choose disciples. But today, you’re lucky enough to choose your own master.”

Xia Chenyu looked at the three ethereal figures before him. His eyes fell on the figure in the middle—clad in pale robes, with a face like jade, eyes like ink, and a gentle presence like a breeze.

After a moment, he raised his hand and pointed. “I choose him.”

An Ran blinked in surprise, then smiled faintly.

Good boy. Just as it should be.

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But things didn’t go as smoothly as An Ran expected.

He thought accepting Xia Chenyu as a disciple would correct the timeline. But after a few months, he realized he had been too naive.

This boy was a model student—kind, obedient, full of sunshine—nothing like the future Demon Lord.

In the original timeline, Xia Chenyu’s suffering as a spiritually deficient child forged his dark nature and eventual corruption. Now, watching the cheerful boy before him, An Ran felt a headache.

“Master, did I get this move wrong?” asked the 12-year-old, looking nervous.

An Ran sighed. “No… It’s perfect.”

Of course it was. A High-grade Heavenly Root made him progress rapidly. What had taken him three years in the original story took only a few months now. He’d soon reach the Qi Refining stage.

This couldn’t go on.

An Ran called the boy over and handed him a book, created by the system to subtly slow cultivation for Heavenly Root holders.

“Practice using this method from now on,” An Ran said.

Xia Chenyu was confused.

“This technique suits your next breakthrough better,” An Ran explained.

In truth, it would slow his growth below that of ordinary disciples.

But the boy’s eyes sparkled with joy as he accepted the book. “Thank you, Master!” He bowed deeply.

An Ran looked at the sweet, innocent face—rosy from practice, full of energy and trust—and sighed inwardly.

What a good kid. Such a pity.

Still, he steeled himself. Fixing the timeline came first. Everything else was secondary.

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Two years passed.

Peach blossoms bloomed and fell again on Lingyun Peak.

At the back mountain training field, disciples sparred with wooden swords.

Xia Chenyu was knocked to the ground by a strike. Laughter broke out.

“I thought he was a genius? What a joke,” sneered Zhuang Mingyuan, kicking Xia Chenyu’s shoulder. “Look, the so-called Heavenly Root prodigy!”

Mocking voices echoed:

“He reached Qi Refining two years ago, and he’s still stuck at the first stage?”

“So much for the Master’s special heart technique.”

Xia Chenyu clenched his fists. A flicker of cold light passed through his eyes.

“I say he’s just trash!”

Laughter spread. But Xia Chenyu suddenly stood and, without warning, punched Xu Wenmin in the face.

“You dare hit me?” Xu cried out.

“Get him!” Zhuang Mingyuan shouted.

Seven or eight disciples swarmed him. Xia Chenyu was quickly overpowered and beaten bloody. Still, he clenched his teeth and stayed silent.

Just as he was about to lose consciousness, screams broke out.

He opened his eyes to find the other disciples writhing on the ground in pain.

Zhuang Mingyuan, injured least, got up and demanded, “Who’s there? Stop playing tricks!”

No one answered. He turned to Xia Chenyu. “Was it you?!”

Xia Chenyu wiped the blood from his mouth and glared without speaking.

Infuriated, Zhuang Mingyuan grabbed his collar—but before he could strike, he was hit in the leg and fell to his knees.

Xia Chenyu sneered.

The others scrambled to flee in panic.

“You’ll regret this!” Xu Wenmin shouted as he retreated.

Zhuang Mingyuan growled, “I’ll report this to Master! Just wait!”

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