Cultivating Immortality Through a Hundred Lifetimes: I Possess the Heavenly Book of Merit

"Now that you've met the Immortal Abbot, why don't you pay your respects?"

The young Taoist priest's rebuke immediately brought everyone present to their senses, causing them to kneel down and shout:

"The true lineage of the Xuanmen (Taoist school) rests solely with the Abbot; at his command, all laws return to their source!"

Yu Yan followed the others and prostrated himself on the ground, closed his eyes, and extended his divine sense. He found that the abbot, like the other Taoist disciples, was visible to the naked eye, but difficult to detect with divine sense.

It was as if this group of people were kneeling and worshipping in front of an empty altar, but they had no idea what they were worshipping.

"An illusion? But if it's an illusion, why did I feel a sensation when that young Taoist patted my chest?"

"If all of this is real, such a brilliant illusion..."

Yu Yan was lost in thought when he suddenly heard someone beside him call out:

"Quick, look! A miracle has occurred!"

Everyone looked up and saw the abbot standing behind the altar, his moon-white Taoist robe fluttering gently in the still air.

With his left hand, fingers joined like a sword, he gently flicked the paper, and a yellow talisman on the table floated up into the air, its four corners trembling slightly like butterfly wings unfolding.

With his right hand pointing downwards like a sword, his brushstrokes were like dragons and snakes, and a faint golden light flowed from his fingertip, creating intricate patterns on the talisman paper.

One stroke, two strokes, three strokes.

As the final stroke was completed, the talisman suddenly shone brightly, causing everyone to squint slightly.

Then, the abbot picked up the talisman with his fingertips and placed it on the candlestick on the left.

puff--

A tiny flame licked the edge of the talisman, and the yellow paper quickly curled up, charred, and turned into translucent ash.

But the ashes, instead of falling, were gently sent down by the abbot and drifted into the withered bonsai in the center of the altar.

Everyone held their breath.

That pot of withered branches had been dead for who knows how many years. The bark was cracked like the back of an old man's hand, and the branches were dry, twisted, and lifeless.

Just as the talisman ash fell, a touch of green quietly emerged from the tree roots.

It started as a tiny speck the size of a grain of rice, then spread and climbed rapidly, like ink seeping into clear water.

Tender buds, delicate leaves, and then new branches.

They unfold layer upon layer, as if an invisible hand has pressed the entire spring into that small ceramic pot.

In the blink of an eye, the withered tree was covered with lush green leaves and even bore two small, unripe fruits.

"Sage magic...it really is sage magic..."

Someone behind him murmured, their voice trembling, completely subdued by this move.

However, the revival of a withered tree is only the beginning.

The abbot remained silent, withdrew his sword finger, and remained calm, as if he had just done something insignificant.

He casually reached into the stone bowl beside the table and pulled out a handful of bluish-gray pebbles, about seven or eight of varying sizes, with rough edges—clearly ordinary stones that could be found anywhere in the courtyard.

Then he held the stone in one hand and made a hand seal with the other.

Then, he lowered his head slightly and gently blew a breath onto the handful of dusty pebbles in his palm.

That breath was colorless and formless, just like the most ordinary sigh.

But when it lands in the palm, it seems to turn the hand into a furnace for alchemy.

Flames rose from the surface of the stones, peeling away layer by layer like clothes to reveal a golden color underneath.

It is warm and dazzling, with a rich luster.

gold.

Seven perfectly round golden beans lay quietly in his palm, eliciting another gasp from the crowd.

"Tsk, something's not right."

Yu Yan pretended to be very surprised, while secretly muttering to himself.

"This abbot can turn stones into gold, so why did that young Taoist take my money? Could it be that he really wanted to prevent money from hindering his cultivation?"

"Suspicious, this is far too suspicious."

Just then, the abbot lowered his hands.

Seven golden beans rolled from his palm, clattering onto the bluestone slab with a pleasant sound.

With such wealth and privilege, how could these people not be tempted?

"Gold! It's gold!"

"A blessing from the immortals! This is a blessing from the immortals!"

It's unclear who was the first to rush forward, but soon a tidal wave of people surged forward.

Those who had been kneeling and prostrating themselves in worship just moments before were now pulled by the same rope, their eyes bloodshot, crawling with their hands and feet toward the rolling golden lights.

Someone missed, hitting their forehead on the stone slab but ignoring the pain, and frantically groped around on the ground with both hands.

Someone grabbed one, immediately clutched it tightly in their palm, protected it to their chest, and retreated with their body hunched over, like a wild beast guarding its food.

Some people who didn't get one went berserk and tried to pry other people's fingers off, only to be kicked away, and then pounced on them again.

Their coarse linen clothes were crammed together, and their thin, bony arms were intertwined.

The seven or eight-year-old child was pushed to the edge of the crowd and fell to the ground, staring blankly at the adults who were frantically grabbing things. He couldn't understand why the seeker of immortality, who had just been worshipping the immortal master and chanting the esoteric teachings, had suddenly become like this.

Everyone, didn't you come here seeking immortality?

"Mine! I got it first!"

"Bullshit, I was the one who picked it up!"

"Get out of here! All of you, get out of here!"

The abbot stood on the altar, whisk draped over his arm, looking down at the scene of struggle and shoving below.

He didn't speak, nor did he even frown. The compassionate smile on his lips remained, like a clay Buddha, mercifully watching over the greed and ugliness of the common people.

The young Taoist disciples did not move.

They stood with their hands at their sides, their faces calm, as if they had seen this scene a thousand times before.

Yu Yan lowered his head, hiding in the chaotic crowd, seemingly also searching.

He acted as if he was in a frantic rush, bending over and groping around on the ground with his hands, staggering as he was pushed and shoved by the crowd, looking completely mad.

However, he had no interest in those few pieces of gold.

It's all just acting, anyway.

Ever since arriving at this temple, Yu Yan has felt something was off.

Cultivating immortality doesn't consider spiritual roots; it first collects gold and silver, and the next day people are fighting over gold.

Is this a test of one's character?

What exactly is the background of this Taoist temple?

Where is Zhang Silin now?

His gaze swept over the excited, contorted faces, then settled on the gaunt, bony backs.

He had already scanned these people on the long kang last night, and today he looked at them carefully again in front of the altar.

More than twenty people, pale and thin, with sunken eyes, prominent cheekbones, and dirt stuck in their fingernails, had been in the mountains for who knows how long.

But just as he pretended to be bumped into and staggered back to the edge of the crowd, he suddenly noticed a young man.

The other person was squatting beside the stone pillar on the west side of the altar, also bent over, also reaching out his hands, and slowly groping on the ground.

But he touched it too slowly and it looked too fake. It didn't look like he was snatching gold beans at all.

They were essentially measuring the texture of the stone slab with their fingertips.

This person was also very thin, but had a rosy complexion, which was completely different from the others.

Yu Yan's heart stirred.

When did this person come in? Why didn't I notice them before?

He was clearly not on the long kang last night. Just now, when the two groups of people gathered in front of the altar, Yu Yan carefully scanned every face.

That person must have been mixed in with the crowd at that time, but I didn't notice him at all.

"That's impressive."

This person knows how to conceal their presence, how to minimize their presence, and how to become invisible in a crowd.

Just like now, he was squatting right under everyone's noses, but no one gave him a second glance.

Yu Yan extended his divine sense toward the other party.

However, the man's movements suddenly paused.

Then his gaze lifted from the stone slab and met Yu Yan's eyes for a fleeting moment.

"There's no mistake, this guy can sense my divine sense, so he definitely has divine sense of his own!"

Yu Yan understood, silently withdrew his gaze, lowered his head, and continued to slowly and clumsily grope on the ground, as if nothing had happened.

He stumbled from the jostling crowd, but continued to feign an anxious search for the gold nuggets, muttering to himself:

"Where did it go? I clearly saw it rolling this way..."

However, he had some suspicions in his mind.

"This person is probably not a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator."