Mortal: Starting by looting Han Laomo's entire herb garden

Lu Yan returned to his cave and first released the little creatures from the spirit beast bracelet, feeding them a few demon cores to soothe them.

Silver Moon peeked out from his arms, looking at him expectantly, and he took out a few more spirit fruits and stuffed them into her hands.

After settling his ancestors in, Lu Yan finally sat down to count the spoils of the day.

The storage bags of more than twenty Core Formation cultivators were piled up on the ground. He turned them over one by one, his face growing darker with each turn.

Spirit stones? Yes, but not many, less than a thousand in total.

Ritual implements? Yes, they were all bone staffs, banners, bone spikes and the like, with strange runes engraved on them. They didn't look like proper ritual implements at all.

Pills? There were a few bottles. He opened one and smelled a fishy odor. He didn't know what it was made from. He casually tossed it into a corner.

Jade slips? There were several, all containing entries from the diaries of the Mulan people. Who writes a diary? He glanced at them and then tossed them aside.

Lu Yan emptied the last storage bag, threw it on the ground, and sighed.

"They're this poor?" He stared speechlessly at the ceiling.

Silver Moon jumped onto his shoulder, looked at the wreckage on the ground, and couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Brother Lu, it seems like you've lost money on this murder-for-treasure deal."

"Go for the first stroke."

Silver Moon laughed even harder.

Lu Yan lifted her off his shoulder, stuffed her into his arms, took out the nameless fragment from his storage bag, and weighed it in his hand.

"Let's try again, this time we're sure to get something good."

Silver Moon peeked out: "Again?"

"If we don't come, where will we get the materials for our natal magic weapon? What can we do with the little stuff in the mortal realm?" Lu Yan put on black clothes, activated the Six Ding Heavenly Armor Talisman, and six layers of silver light shield enveloped his whole body.

He held the shards in his hand, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

The world spun around.

He then grabbed a bunch of stuff from various interfaces.

He diligently cultivated, progressing from Core Formation to Nascent Soul, from Nascent Soul to Deity Transformation, from Deity Transformation to Void Refinement, from Void Refinement to Body Integration, and from Body Integration to Mahayana.

Each stage he reached came naturally, as if he was born to reach that point.

He was undergoing a heavenly tribulation, which struck him eighty-one times. He stood in the sea of ​​lightning, his body covered in blood, yet he laughed heartily.

When the heavenly tribulation subsided, he became a true immortal.

He went to the celestial realm.

The Immortal Realm is vast, many times larger than the Human Realm and many times larger than the Spirit Realm.

The Immortal Realm is also in chaos, with various forces vying for power. The Dao Ancestors are high above, regarding all living beings as ants.

He cultivated, killed, plundered treasures, and then cultivated again. He took on disciples, established sects, and conquered the world.

He fights against the ancient and the modern, against the stone fish, and against everyone who stands in his way.

Each battle was so devastating that the heavens and earth trembled, and the sun and moon lost their light.

He won many times, and lost a few times. When he lost, he would hide in a corner and lick his wounds, waiting for them to heal before going back to fight.

In the end, everyone was convinced.

Ancient and modern times were trampled under his feet, the Stone Fish was sealed in the void, and the other Dao Ancestors either submitted or fled to the heavens.

He stood at the highest point in the immortal realm, looking down at the myriad beings below, and suddenly felt it all meaningless.

This is so boring.

He continued his ascent, from the Dao Ancestor to the Chaos. He witnessed the creation of heaven and earth, and he also witnessed the return of all things to nothingness.

He could crush a star with his bare hand and disperse a nebula with his breath.

He has everything, yet he has nothing.

He sat in the depths of chaos, his eyes closed.

He didn't know how much time had passed—perhaps a moment, perhaps trillions of years—when a hand reached out and patted his face.

"Time to get up and move bricks."

Lu Yan opened his eyes.

The ceiling was gray and gloomy, the walls were covered with faded wallpaper, and a few bags of cement and a pile of miscellaneous tools were stacked in the corner.

He lay on a hard wooden board, with a dirty blanket under him.

It's a construction site.

He slowly sat up and looked down at his hands.

Rough, dry, with several fine cuts on the knuckles, and dirt still stuck in the crevices of the fingernails.

These are his hands. Not a monk's hands.

Lu Yan was stunned for a long time.

"Old Lu! What are you daydreaming about? The foreman's calling!"

Someone shouted from outside the door, and then the sound of footsteps faded into the distance.

Lu Yan didn't move. He sat on the wooden bed, his mind blank.

Memories of cultivating immortality surged up like a tide, and then receded like a tide.

He remembered his name was Lu Yan, he remembered Huangfeng Valley, he remembered Lei Wanhe, he remembered Yin Yue, he remembered Tianfu Zhenren, and he remembered that fragment.

But those things are too far removed from him. As far away as a past life.

He looked down and saw a pair of liberation shoes at his feet, the toes worn white and the soles covered in hardened cement.

Next to the shoes was a plastic water cup with the words "XX Construction Group" printed in red on the cup wall, half of the paint had peeled off.

The days of carrying bricks passed by one by one, until one day...

The Great Evolution Technique has been broken through.

Wait a minute? The Great Evolution Technique?!

He froze, all his memories flooding back like a burst dam, unstoppable.

Every detail is clear and vivid.

Lu Yan sat on the stool, trembling all over.

"A Record of a Mortal's Journey to Immortality... Is it not a dream?"

"Of course not."

A voice suddenly rang in his ear.

Lu Yan suddenly looked up.

A middle-aged Confucian scholar appeared out of nowhere in front of him.

He wore a blue robe, had a long beard, and a thin face. His eyes were gentle yet profound, as if they could see through the origin of all things.

He stood with his hands behind his back at the entrance of the dusty construction site, with the unfinished building behind him. The concrete mixers roared, and workers came and went, but no one noticed him.

Lu Yan stared at him, his mind racing.

"Who are you?" Lu Yan's voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time.

The scholar didn't answer, but simply looked at him with gentle eyes: "Young friend, how was this dream?"

Lu Yan looked down at his hands. They were rough, dry, and his fingernails were stuck with dirt that couldn't be washed off.

"It's great," he said. "After decades of laying bricks, I've finally finished all the work I owed from my past life."

"May I ask who you are, senior?"

The scholar smiled and said, "My name is Liu Qi."