In the northern reaches of the Eastern Lands lies a continent veiled in mystery, known as Da Sheng.

This land, Da Sheng, exists in profound seclusion, far more desolate than the forgotten Isle of Tian Niu ever was. Yet, this isolation holds only for those who tread the path of cultivation, for mortals thrive here in abundance. The very earth of this continent seems blessed, yielding bountiful harvests, and granting its common folk a life of considerable prosperity.

For countless ages, whispers of celestial beings have echoed throughout Da Sheng. Thus, nearly every soul within its borders reveres the Immortals, yearning for a sliver of their divine grace.

However, the Immortal sects of this land are shrouded in enigma, their disciples rarely seen beyond their secluded havens. Perhaps this is due to the influence of the continent’s foremost order, the Eastern Verge Sect, whose ways are steeped in shadow, akin to a mist-wreathed peak. Yet, it is precisely this mystique that fuels the mortals’ unwavering devotion.

The Eastern Verge Sect, though numbered among the Nine Sects and Thirteen Houses of the Eastern Lands, maintains an unassuming presence. Its disciples seldom venture forth, content to pursue their cultivation within the sect’s ancient walls.

The skies above Da Sheng are perpetually adorned with drifting clouds, rarely revealing the boundless azure expanse. For countless years, this has been the norm, the swirling white formations an inherent part of the celestial canvas. Should a day arrive when the heavens are swept clean, the mortals would surely gaze upon it with wonder.

Now, near the outskirts of a bustling city, nearly a hundred souls stand with the utmost reverence. At their fore, three or four elderly figures, draped in extravagant finery, appear frail, yet maintain a stoic bearing, supported by their retinue of servants. They have patiently waited for nearly two hours.

The remaining individuals exude no hint of impatience, rather considering it an honor to stand vigil. Their eyes are fixed upon the horizon, a fervent anticipation etched upon their faces, as if awaiting a celestial visitation.

However, as the sun climbs higher, its fiery kiss grows increasingly oppressive. Even the wind carries a scorching breath.

Some amongst the throng begin to falter under the relentless onslaught. Despite their best efforts, the sun’s glare induces waves of dizziness. A middle-aged merchant, clad in the robes of a prosperous shopkeeper, accepts a block of ice from his servant and presses it against his brow, muttering under his breath.

“Has the Great Immortal forgotten his promise…? We have stood here since the rooster’s crow, more than three *mao*… the noon heat is the most unbearable, when will our vigil end?”

“Silence, fool!” The merchant’s words reach the ears of one of the aged dignitaries, who whirls around, his gaze ablaze with indignation. “The Immortal’s presence is a blessing, not a right. If you lack the patience, no one compels you to remain!”

The merchant, abashed, offers a placating smile, about to proffer an apology.

“Hmph, that the Great Immortal deigns to grace our humble abode is due to the persistent pleas of myself and my esteemed colleagues. It is only out of compassion that he has granted us this audience. I, in my twilight years, stand here in unwavering respect. You, a mere cloth merchant, dare to question? Should you offend the Immortal, your entire family shall be cast out from this city!” The old man scolds, accepting an ice-wrapped cloth from his servant, and dabbing his brow.

“The Great Immortal’s heart is as vast as the heavens, willing to expend his precious cultivation time to walk among the mortals of Da Sheng. His name shall be etched in eternity! It is said that the neighboring town was blessed by his presence, resulting in seven children being chosen. Although three were later returned, four entered the hallowed halls of Immortality. When they ascend, even their chickens and dogs will rise with them!”

“Indeed, the Great Immortal spoke those very words: ‘When they ascend, even their chickens and dogs will rise with them!’ If only my grandson could attain such fortune, I would willingly sacrifice my entire estate!” Another elder murmurs, his eyes alight with pious yearning.

“Aye, Li, the proprietor of the Li Emporium of the neighboring town, is a dear friend of mine. The Immortal resided within his very home and took a liking to his granddaughter, a maiden of twenty summers! Though it was said she was too old to tread the Immortal path, the Great Immortal, moved by Li’s entreaties, carried her away regardless!”

“I too have heard the Immortal’s words, ‘When they ascend, even their chickens and dogs will rise with them!’ These words have resonated throughout Da Sheng for decades…”

A chorus of fervent voices erupted, each laced with envy.

As the throng engaged in animated discussion, momentarily forgetting the oppressive heat, a sudden gust of wind swept in from the horizon. The chilling breeze, passing through the waiting figures, sent a shiver down their spines, prompting them to look skyward.

In the distant heavens, a crimson parasol, spanning some ten *zhang*, unfurled. Beneath its shade rested a palanquin woven from violet bamboo. Four golden-robed warriors, riding the wind, strode across the sky, bearing the palanquin aloft.

Surrounding these figures, a dozen acolytes, each carrying precious objects like jade-encrusted bottles, whisks made of horse hair, and glimmering jade orbs, circled the palanquin like celestial guardians.

At the very heart, seated cross-legged within the palanquin, sat an old man, his hair as white as the frost. His very presence radiated the aura of Immortality!

Distinct from the mortals below, his skin was as smooth as a newborn’s, though his hair had turned the color of the frost, and a white daoist robe draped his form. His eyes, though narrowed, pulsed with an inner light.

“An Immortal!”

“The Great Immortal!”

“It is the Great Immortal Jin Biao!”

The hundred souls below, consumed by a fervor that knew no bounds, their faces alight with rapturous awe. The elderly, who had been reliant on their servants, shook off their support and fell to their knees, prostrating themselves in worship. Before long, every single individual knelt upon the parched earth, offering their heartfelt devotion to the heavens.

“Great Immortal Jin Biao, grant mortals Ascension! Great Immortal Jin Biao, descend and refine the Elixir! Great Immortal Jin Biao, deliver sons to Immortality!” The four palanquin bearers, their voices coalescing into a singular roar, intoned in unison.

The words resonated like thunder, echoing from the heavens. Clearly, they had practiced this chant countless times to achieve such flawless synchronization. Their voices reverberating through the air, a symphony of devotion carried to those below.
“Great Immortal Jin Biao, Immortal Eternal! Great Immortal Jin Biao, Mountain of Heaven and Earth! Great Immortal Jin Biao, Reborn in the Sacred Continent!” The four burly men roared, and the surrounding acolytes, in shrill chorus, echoed the cry, their voices merging into a resonant hum that filled the heavens and the earth.

Upon a palanquin throne, an aged man, his face etched with benevolence yet tempered with an underlying air of command, gazed down upon the kneeling throng. He raised his right hand and with a single flourish of his wide sleeve, the very sky trembled.

With that flourish, the world transformed. Winds howled and surged, sweeping the heavens clean of clouds in an instant, revealing a boundless expanse of azure sky. The mortals below, their eyes wide with awe and disbelief, were consumed by reverence and a profound stirring of the spirit.

A fleeting glimmer of self-satisfaction flickered within the old man’s eyes. He congratulated himself on his performance, knowing he had deceived even true immortals in his time, let alone these simple folk. He meticulously maintained the facade, for his own exacting standards demanded nothing less. He raised his left hand and, with another gesture, a magnificent palace materialized in the newly cleansed heavens. Though but a spectral projection, bathed in sunlight against the vast blue canvas, it conjured the very essence of an immortal abode. Celestial cranes emerged from its ethereal gates, circling and scattering refreshing breezes upon the land.

The mortals, captivated by the celestial spectacle, were far too distant to perceive the beads of sweat forming on the old man’s brow. This illusion, his own creation, was taking its toll.

“Ascend to Immortality, and even Your Beasts Shall Rise!” At the zenith of this grand illusion, the venerable old man in the palanquin rose, his voice booming like thunder as he thrust both hands forward.

In the wake of that resonant proclamation, almost all the kneeling mortals below, and the citizens within the city, repeated the words with fervent devotion: “Ascend to Immortality, and even Your Beasts Shall Rise!”

As the palanquin descended from the heavens outside the city, the old man, his smile radiant, stepped down. The kneeling figures rose, and the elders amongst them bowed low with repeated gestures of respect.

“We welcome Great Immortal Jin Biao!”

“We greet Great Immortal Jin Biao!”

“Enough, enough,” the old man said with gentle affability. “I am known for my humility. Such formalities are unnecessary. Time is fleeting. I shall dwell here but three days. In that time, bring forth your children, that I might discern those who possess the seed of immortality, to accompany me hence.” His words were mild, yet carried an aura of profound otherworldliness.

He had seen this fervent devotion countless times before, and his smile held a hint of inner triumph.

“Ah, Jin Biao, my life,” he mused to himself, “I left my village at the tender age of six or seven, a vagrant and charlatan. I have travelled far, and the number I have fooled are beyond counting. And Jin Biao possesses a rare gift, a natural talent for deceit, self-taught and honed over years. Moreover, I have never joined any sect, yet I have cultivated real power. Such a one as I is a rarity indeed! But this Sacred Continent is worth all the trials I have endured. The people here are simple, yearning for ascension. A veritable treasure trove for one of my calling! Best of all, it seems untouched by any other of my ilk. One simple phrase – ‘Ascend to Immortality, and even Your Beasts Shall Rise!’ – and my success here is assured!” With a smile, he allowed the reverent citizens to escort him into the city.

Meanwhile, tens of thousands of leagues distant, in another corner of the Sacred Continent, the fabric of reality shimmered. Wang Lin emerged, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

“This,” he murmured, “is the Sacred Continent! The realm of the Eastern Serenity Sect!”