I've already become an immortal lord, and only now is the spiritual energy reviving?

At the southernmost tip of the Immortal Deer Plain lies the Qinglu Mountain Range, a remote and secluded place where spiritual energy is scarce.

Inside the main hall of Guanhua Gate.

An elderly man wearing a gray Taoist robe, with a sorrowful face.

They respectfully offered three sticks of incense to a bronze incense burner, about half a person's height, enshrined directly in front of the main hall.

Hua Yangzi, the current head of Guanhua Sect and a "Grand Cultivator" at the sixth level of Qi Refining.

Behind him stood three more people, who now constituted all the members of Guanhua Sect.

Another alchemy elder, Yang Danhe, with a similarly worried expression, was at the third level of Qi Refining.

He is also the only high-ranking cultivator in the sect besides Hua Yangzi.

The remaining two were a pair of young disciples, one in the late stage of fetal breathing and the other in the middle stage.

The man was named Chai Wu; he was burly and simple-minded. The woman was named He Qin; she had delicate features and her expression was full of timidity and unease.

"well......"

After offering incense, Hua Yangzi couldn't help but sigh, and the wrinkles on his face deepened even more.

"Sect Leader, Senior Brother,"

Yang Dan stepped forward, looking worried.

"We've been escaping from the main branch to Qinglu Mountain for almost a year now, and the little bit of spiritual grain and pills we brought with us will be almost gone this month."

"The spiritual energy in the mountains is thin. If we don't think of a solution soon, not only will our disciples' cultivation be affected, but their very foundations will be damaged."

Three years ago, the old sect leader failed to break through to the Foundation Establishment Realm and died. After that, the Guanhua Sect, which was originally a fairly large sect, collapsed and scattered.

Any elders or disciples with any skill within the sect either absconded with the sect's resources or joined other sects.

In the end, only the four honest men remained. Carrying the last remaining artifacts of their sect and a meager amount of supplies, they fled to this godforsaken place.

"Yes, Master."

The disciple, Chai Wu, spoke in a muffled voice, patting his emaciated belly.

"My junior sister and I haven't eaten any spiritual grains for two days. We've been just meditating and breathing exercises, and it feels like we're only breathing in the northwest wind."

He Qin's voice was barely audible, and her eyes were slightly red: "Sect Leader... are we... are we going to disband our Guanhua Sect?"

"What nonsense are you talking about!"

Hua Yangzi glared suddenly, straightened his back, and adopted the imposing demeanor of a sect leader.

"As long as we are here, Guanhua Sect will exist! The lineage left by our patriarch must never be broken!"

Even so, his tone lacked confidence.

He looked at the ancient incense burner again, his expression complex.

"Our last hope rests on it."

Hua Yangzi said in a deep voice.

The incense burner is named "Dongxuan Mingjian Burner". It is said to be a precious artifact personally crafted by the founder of the sect and is a sacred object passed down through the Guanhua Sect.

The issue is.

For decades, apart from burning incense, it has never shown any supernatural abilities.

It couldn't detect even a trace of spiritual energy; it was no different from a bronze furnace forged in a blacksmith's shop in the mortal world.

If it weren't for the sect's repeated instructions in its scriptures that this furnace was related to the sect's destiny and should not be abandoned, it would probably have been sold as scrap metal long ago.

Today, Hua Yangzi led everyone to offer sacrifices, which, to put it bluntly, was purely a desperate measure.

The four bowed three more times to the incense burner, and the hall fell into a deathly silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

One breath, two breaths, five breaths...

The incense burner remained standing there, unresponsive.

The last glimmer of hope in Chai Wu and He Qin's eyes was extinguished, and Yang Danhe shook his head and smiled bitterly.

A tremendous despair welled up in Hua Yangzi's heart, and his body became even more hunched.

Is Heaven truly determined to destroy Guanhua Gate?!

hum!

A deep, resonant sound, seemingly from the very beginning of time, suddenly rang out in the hall without warning!

The four were startled and looked toward the source of the sound.

The bronze incense burner shook violently for the first time.

Beside the furnace, dust and rust accumulated over countless years.

Its true form, shimmering with iridescent light, is revealed beneath. Carved from warm, purple-gold jade, it is perfectly rounded and its precious luster is subtly contained.

The furnace wall is engraved with intricate patterns of the sun, moon, stars, mountains, rivers, and peaks.

"The Ancestral Master... the Ancestral Master has appeared!"

Hua Yangzi was so excited that he trembled all over, and his voice changed. He immediately led the three dumbfounded people behind him to kneel down with a "plop".

......

Inside the rental house.

On the other side, Qingyuan also slammed his fist on the computer desk with a "thud".

"No way, four people and a dilapidated hall, and they dare call themselves a sect?"

Even when you're just getting together for a mahjong game, you have to worry about who goes to the bathroom and who can take their place.

For an average player, encountering such a shabby start, even worse than the one in the game "Greedy Blue Moon," the mouse would have already been hovering over the red cross in the upper right corner.

Qingyuan is different.

The excitement in his eyes only grew stronger.

Veteran players all have a quirk:

The more anti-human the game, the faster your adrenaline surges.

Back then, in order to capture a family portrait of the death scene in Sekiro, he could stay up for two consecutive nights without blinking.

So what if there are four people?

Even if it's just a stick, a skilled player can twist it into a pillar of strength.

"Since we're going to play, we should at least check out the whole product."

Qingyuan casually flicked the mouse wheel back.

The scene responded immediately, the camera rapidly zoomed out, and the viewpoint went straight to the dome.

The next second, Qingyuan froze.

"Hmm, are you serious?"

It wasn't the mosaic or rudimentary textures I expected.

The verdant hills are vast and green, with strange rocks standing tall like swords and halberds piercing the sky; the forest is filled with the sound of waves, and thousands of ancient pines sway in the wind, their leaves moving and shadows trembling.

In the distance, a waterfall cascades down, its spray like shattered jade, and even the trajectory of each drop of mist as it dissipates is clearly visible.

This isn't a demo; it's like cutting a corner of some fantasy world from who-knows-when and stuffing it into a monitor.

"I've struck gold! This is destined to be a masterpiece."

Qingyuan's heart pounded wildly.

As a half-baked programmer who hasn't quite exhausted his passion, he's determined to conquer this game, no matter how many pitfalls it may present, simply because of his incredible coding skills.

After regaining his composure, Qingyuan once again surveyed the battle situation.

The exquisite painting is limited to the small area of ​​"Qinglu Mountain" under our feet.

At the edge of the horizon, a thick, inky fog surged, with several silhouettes vaguely visible moving within it, concealing countless terrifying forces.

The entire map is like an isolated island, locked in by the fog of war.

Only the dilapidated temple halfway up the mountain and a few wisps of smoke from a mundane village called "Liu Family Village" at the foot of the mountain barely illuminated a faint light.

Looking at the resource bar in the upper left corner, the numbers are even more heartbreaking:

Incense offerings: 113 (+1 per year)

Population: 4

[Spirit Stone]: 5

Even worse, a row of warning messages, still dripping blood, hung overhead, leaving no room for negotiation:

[Current sect status: On the verge of collapse]

[Resources are scarce, and people's hearts are restless. If no intervention is taken, the orthodox tradition will collapse and its flames will be extinguished in two years.]

[Note: The ancestor exists because of incense offerings; when the clan perishes, the body and soul die, and the archives are destroyed.]

"Not only is it poorly made, but it's also time-limited, and it even involves data deletion and 'killing the hostage'?"

Qingyuan was delighted; the sense of urgency of being plotted against with a gun to his head was exactly to his liking.

It's like taking over a company that's going bankrupt in two years, and the board of directors makes it clear: if we don't go public within two years, we'll all line up to jump off a building.

stimulate.

My gaze shifted to the pitifully small number of [Population: 4], and I wanted to click on it to check its specific attributes.

Before the cursor even landed, several lines of small regular script appeared on the screen, exuding a suffocating desire for control:

Those who enter my school inherit my teachings and their souls are bound to the incense burner.

From the moment I take this oath, my spirit and destiny are subject to the control of the Mysterious Mirror Furnace.

[Whether the lineage survives or vanishes, life, death, fortune, or misfortune all depend on your single thought.]

"That's domineering enough!"

Qingyuan slapped his thigh.

Modern games, in order to annoy players, make every NPC temperamental, either running away from home or rebelling and betraying them.

This one is quite unique; born a member of the sect, and dying a ghost of the sect.

What kind of loyalty?

Once you join, your soul is directly bound to the ancestor.

Thinking of changing jobs?

Leave your life behind first.

Only those with absolute control deserve to be called "Ancestor Simulators".

With personnel matters settled, Qingyuan lowered his gaze to the simple UI at the bottom.

A miniature bronze furnace, plus two buttons: [Start/Pause].

Click on the bronze furnace to flip the screen.

It was a skill tree that not only didn't grow into the sky, but instead desperately burrowed into the ground.

The only points of light representing supernatural powers and abilities are two solitary stars shining at the source:

[Seeing Through Everything]: Ignoring all barriers, surveying all directions, everything within sight is clear.

[Daoyan's Commentary on Heaven]: The Heavenly Way is like a ruler, and its rank is determined by the rise and fall of sects, bestowing blessings and rules.

"A full-map perspective cheat, and a performance evaluation system that pays wages regularly."

Qingyuan just figured out the skill logic.

In the scene, the old sect leader Hua Yangzi, who remained kneeling and refused to get up, had a bright yellow exclamation mark pop up on his forehead.

There's work to be done.

double click.

The camera pans through the dilapidated rooftops and cuts back to the depths of the main hall.

......

Inside the hall, the mottled bronze incense burner no longer exuded any life.

The rust peels away inch by inch, revealing a radiant purple-gold luster within.

The smoke no longer drifted aimlessly in the wind, but instead, as if imbued with sentience, condensed in the void into two magnificent lines of characters:

"Tracing the causes of all things, revealing the fruits of destiny."

Incense smoke hung in the air, and a majestic and imposing aura filled the hall.

Not to mention the NPCs on the screen, even Qingyuan outside the screen was so shocked by the overwhelming aura of immortals that his hair stood on end.

Hua Yangzi trembled violently, his knees thumping like garlic being pounded, and blood stained the blue bricks on his forehead.

"Disciple Huayangzi pays homage to the sacred furnace!"

The old Taoist priest's voice was desolate and sorrowful, containing decades of heartache and fear:

"Master above, your unworthy disciple has brought our foundation to the brink of collapse! Our food supplies are exhausted, our elixirs are depleted, and our spiritual veins are dried up."

Now the fields are vast and the road ahead is blocked. We humbly beg the Holy Furnace to have mercy and show Guanhua Gate a way to survive!

Before the crying subsided, a system pop-up appeared, cutting off the emotional outburst:

[Disciples weep blood, struggling to survive in dire straits, bearing the destiny of their sect, where will Your Excellency lead them?]