You've only been cultivating for a few years, and you're already talking about cultivating

Daoist Zao remained silent for a moment, pondering slightly.

Surely the entire cultivation sect can't be wrong, right?

Surely he can't be the only one in the world who's right?

Or perhaps his previous cultivation methods were wrong?

Why not try practicing it first?

"Good! Senior brother is right!" He put away the "Compassionate Heart Sutra" and turned back to his cave.

The cultivation has begun.

Surprisingly, the Metta Sutta (Loving-kindness Sutra) aligned perfectly with his beliefs, making his practice very smooth.

Each time he circulated his cultivation technique, he felt the spiritual energy throughout his body cheering, surging, and roaring.

Those meridians that were once blocked, those bottlenecks that once stood in his way, were like river channels that had been breached by a flood, flowing freely for miles.

His cultivation level rose at a visible speed, progressing from Qi Induction to Foundation Establishment and then to Golden Core, each step faster and more stable than the last.

Lang Shasha is right.

Traveling a thousand miles a day is no exaggeration.

The news quickly spread throughout the Cixin Sect.

"That new Daoist Zao, his cultivation speed is simply frightening."

"I heard he's only been a beginner for a short time and has already reached the Golden Core stage?"

"Golden Core?! He's only been cultivating for a few days?"

"Wow, what a genius."

The elders of the Cixin Sect also began to take notice of him. Some sent him elixirs, some gave him ritual implements, and some even held special sermons for him.

Even the sect leader personally summoned him once, looked him up and down in the hall for a long time, nodded, and said, "This boy is the pillar of our Cixin Sect."

Daoist Zao stood in the hall, his face calm, and bowed slightly, saying, "Thank you, Sect Master."

In his heart, there was no joy, no pride, only a faint sense of certainty.

We've chosen the right path.

Soon, the sect assigned him the task of patrolling the territory.

The territory of the Cixin Sect spans thirteen states and eighty-eight counties, with numerous sects of all sizes and a diverse mix of people.

Daoist Zao, accompanied by several of his fellow disciples, inspected the various locations one by one.

When encountering those who defy his authority, he strikes with deadly force; when encountering those who stubbornly resist, he eradicates them completely; when encountering those minor sects who try to plead for mercy, he only utters one word: "Kill."

They are extremely ruthless and never show mercy.

Of course, in the eyes of the Cixin sect, this is "compassion".

The news quickly spread throughout the cultivation world.

"The Cixin Sect produced a Daoist named Zao, who is ruthless and heartless, and doesn't even care about his own family."

"I heard that during one of his inspections, he wiped out thirteen minor sects, leaving not a single survivor."

"If the King of Hell wants you dead at midnight, who dares to keep you alive until dawn? But Daoist Zao will only let you die at the first watch!"

Thus, a saying arose in the cultivation world: "Better to offend Yama, the King of Hell, than to offend Daoist Zao."

His actions greatly pleased the Cixin sect.

The sect leader publicly commended him at the assembly, the elders nodded with smiles when they saw him, and the junior disciples regarded him as a role model.

His cultivation level also rapidly increased during this series of killings!

After the Golden Core comes the Primordial Spirit, and after the Primordial Spirit comes the Divided Spirit. Each step is faster and more stable than the last.

He became the most dazzling genius of the Cixin Sect.

Then, he was eaten.

That day, the sect leader personally came to deliver a message, saying that the ancestor of the Mahayana stage wanted to see him.

Following the sect leader, Daoist Zao passed through numerous restrictions and arrived at a cave dwelling deep within the Cixin Sect. The cave was dark, with only a wisp of dark mist slowly billowing within.

In the center of the fog, a gaunt old man sat cross-legged, his face mostly obscured by shadows, revealing only a pair of cloudy eyes.

"Come here." The old man's voice seemed very gentle.

Daoist Zao stepped forward.

The old man reached out, his withered, twig-like fingers touching the top of Zao Daoren's head. Instantly, Zao Daoren felt a tremendous suction force pouring in from the top of his head, as if an invisible hand had reached into his body, hooking his primordial spirit and pulling it outward.

His spiritual energy surged forth like water bursting from a dam, flowing through the withered hand and into the old man's body.

The Daoist's body withered away at a visible rate. His skin lost its luster, his muscles slumped, his bones protruded, and his once black hair turned as gray as straw in just a few breaths.

He tried to struggle and resist, but he couldn't move even a single finger.

The old man's greed turned into satiation, and a glint of light flashed in his cloudy eyes, like a wild beast that had eaten its fill.

"Don't be afraid," the old man said slowly, his voice carrying a hint of benevolent compassion, "This is the mercy that the ancestor bestowed upon you..."

Daoist Zao stared wide-eyed at the face hidden in the shadows.

His consciousness was fading, his vision was blurring, and the last thing he saw was the old man slowly withdrawing his hand, looking down at his palm, and nodding in satisfaction.

Their Compassionate Heart Sect is known as the Compassionate Heart Demon Sect, so how could they possibly properly nurture their younger disciples?

If the younger generation of disciples is too strong, wouldn't they eventually devour these old guys?

After a moment of disorientation, the Daoist Zao, who had been plunged into endless darkness, suddenly opened his eyes.

He stood atop a solitary peak, holding a jujube wood cane in his hand. Before him stood Lang Shasha, dressed in black robes, smiling at him.

"I am Lang Shasha of the Cixin Sect. With your temperament, Junior Brother, you are the perfect candidate to break through the illusion and become a disciple of my Cixin Sect."

Lang Shasha's mouth was still moving, still spouting those principles of "killing is an act of mercy."

Daoist Zao didn't hear a single word.

He had some doubts: why had he come back to life? Why was he alive? What was the meaning of his life?

But soon, the feeling of being drained, emptied, and swallowed like a pill still lingered in every inch of his meridians.

He gripped the jujube wood cane tightly, his knuckles turning white. He had questions in his heart, but even more so, he felt hatred!

His gaze went past Lang Shasha's shoulder and toward the distant, mist-shrouded mountains.

That was the sect of the Cixin Sect, with its scripture library, the elders who smiled and praised him, the cave hidden in the deepest part of the cave, and the withered old monster inside.

He looked down at his hands.

Young, strong, and full of spiritual energy, his dantian was empty, waiting for him to fill it.

He raised his head, a murderous glint flashing in his eyes.

In this life, he will devour those old monsters.

So he boarded the Cixin Sect's flying shuttle once again.

Qi Fei watched as Daoist Zao boarded the flying shuttle and couldn't help but sigh.

He could see that the Daoist Zao was hesitant and wavering.

In the gaps between those decisive battles, in those scriptures that say "killing is mercy," and in those moments when he was praised by everyone in the sect, Zao Daoren would occasionally feel some doubts and something was amiss.

That was the seed of doubt.

But the seed of doubt had barely sprouted before it was trampled back down by himself.

He wasn't resolute enough. He didn't question the world.

After all, questioning the world requires great courage and wisdom.

If it were like in the illusion, where you don't need to think about anything or doubt anything, and you can become an immortal simply by absorbing spiritual energy and practicing your cultivation techniques step by step.

Wouldn't that mean the streets are full of immortals?

Wouldn't that mean that cultivators could pass on their skills from generation to generation and ascend to immortality?

"Man," the sword suddenly spoke up, "have you ever considered that the world you are in now might also be an illusion?"