The First Saint Sect, a name that reeked of sanctity yet hid a core of demonic cruelty.
Clouds lay stacked upon clouds like a roiling, infinite sea. Countless mountain peaks pierced through this misty expanse, scattered like pieces on some celestial game board.
On the very edge of this board stood a stubby, truncated peak—its top sheared clean off to form a vast, artificial plateau. Here, spirit boats rose and fell, and rows of newly arrived disciples stood in nervous silence.
Among them was Lü Yang.
He had just transmigrated. One moment, he was… elsewhere. The next, he was here. The residual memories flooding his mind painted a grim picture of his current predicament.
According to these memories, the First Saint Sect held dominion over a mortal nation called "Chen."
Every three years, the Chen Kingdom would send a batch of so-called "disciples" to the sect. In return, the sect guaranteed favorable weather and the stability of the Chen royal line.
On the surface, it sounded like a glorious opportunity: entry into an immortal sect, a chance at eternal life.
The reality was different. No high-born official or noble scion from Chen ever appeared on this plateau. Only commoners like Lü Yang were sent as what the memories darkly hinted was "blood tribute."
After all, while thousands of these "nominal disciples" arrived every three years, the number of true, recognized sect disciples never seemed to increase. The nominal ones simply… vanished, one after another. It was as if they were sent not to a sacred place of cultivation, but into a bottomless abyss.
The thought sent a chill down Lü Yang's spine.
"No wonder I feel so weak. This body is completely hollowed out."
He pinched the soft flesh of his arm—not a trace of muscle. His mood sank further. When he tried to shift his weight, a sharp, stabbing pain lanced through his chest.
"The original owner was sick. And this illness is… damn it!"
He cursed inwardly. This wasn't just weakness. It was a terminal disease. He didn't have many days left.
Just as despair threatened to swallow him whole—to think he'd get a "Game Over" screen right after loading in—a pinprick of light appeared before his eyes.
It expanded rapidly, resolving into a translucent screen.
[Name: Lü Yang]
[Lifespan: 18/18 Years]
[Cultivation: Mortal]
[Innate Talent: None]
[Cultivation Manuals: None]
[Supernatural Abilities: None]
[Treasures: None]
Tears of relief almost welled in Lü Yang's eyes. There was a way! Where there's a will, there's a path!
System, give me my attribute points!
A moment later, his relief turned to dumbfounded confusion.
He scoured the interface, flipping through every tab and column. There was no plus sign to allocate points. Not even a minus sign.
"Wait. System, where's my stat distribution function?"
After a frantic search, he was forced to admit a painful truth: his personal panel lacked any such feature.
In other words, if he wanted to get stronger, he had to do it the old-fashioned way.
Lü Yang: "…"
Damn it. Before I awakened the system, you wanted me to grind. Now that I have the system, you still want me to grind? What was the point of getting this thing?!
System, you motherf—
[Remaining Pages in the 'Book of a Hundred Lifetimes': 100]
[Book of a Hundred Lifetimes: Upon death, you may return to this point in time and begin a new life.]
[Upon beginning a new life, you may choose to inherit one of the following from your previous life: a Treasure, your Cultivation Base, or your accumulated Lifespan. Alternatively, you may forfeit all previous gains to awaken a new Innate Talent.]
…Dad, it's fine. Everything is fine.
A fierce excitement surged through Lü Yang. A hundred lifetimes! That was an immense capital. Used wisely, it could launch him into the heavens!
"Those whose names I call will step forward."
A voice, cold and dry, cut through the air. A Taoist priest clad in stark black robes stood before the crowd, a roster in one hand. Beside him floated an ancient bronze lantern, its single candle flame burning with a pale, sickly light. His expression was perpetually sinister.
"Drip your blood into the Life Lantern beside me. Kindle your Life Flame. From this moment, you are nominal disciples of our First Saint Sect."
No one looked happy.
Most had heard the dark rumors about the First Saint Sect. This "nominal discipleship" felt more like a death sentence than an honor.
The black-robed priest paid no mind to their terror. He began calling names, his voice devoid of inflection.
"Chen Liang."
"Here!"
A clear, youthful voice answered. A young boy with rosy lips and bright, intelligent eyes stepped out from beside Lü Yang and walked briskly to the priest.
The boy was strikingly handsome, with an aura of sharp intellect about him. In the mortal world, he would have been a prodigy sought after by every academy.
As expected, a flicker of appreciation crossed the black-robed priest's face.
"What a gifted seedling!"
"You flatter me, Elder." The boy bowed with perfect courtesy, his childish voice charming and poised.
The priest's smile widened, though it never reached his eyes.
"Excellent, excellent! Our First Saint Sect needs talents like you!"
With that, he drew a single, swift line through the name [Chen Liang] on his roster.
Thud.
In the next heartbeat, without a sound or warning, the vibrant young boy's eyes rolled back into his head. He collapsed to the stone floor, utterly lifeless.
Having done this, the priest spoke casually to an attendant.
"Send the flesh and blood to the Alchemy Hall. The bones and soul essence to the Treasure Refining Hall. The organs to the Beast Taming Hall. Such fine material must not be wasted."
His words froze the blood of every disciple present.
The priest chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "Do not misunderstand, junior brothers and sisters."
"The Holy Sect values 'worth' above all. A disciple's excellence is measured solely by the value they can create for the sect."
"That junior brother just now was a born prodigy, with strong bones and vibrant spirit. Only in death could he achieve his maximum worth for the sect. Hence, he died."
"As for the rest of you… your talents are mediocre. You can only create value for the sect while alive. So, you need not worry about such a fate."
"Next."
The calling of names resumed. The crowd was petrified, but disobedience was not an option. No one wanted to share the young Taoist's fate.
"Lü Yang."
"Here."
Lü Yang stepped forward, bowing deeply.
The priest's gaze landed on Lü Yang's handsome face. A spark of interest flashed, only to be extinguished as his eyes raked over Lü Yang's physique with a bone-deep assessing glare. He shook his head in clear disappointment.
In his eyes, Lü Yang was worthless. Pretty, but worthless.
"Assigned to the Pleasure Union Hall."
Not daring to ask questions, Lü Yang quickly replied, "Yes, Elder."
After the assignments, Lü Yang received a jade token, nearly transparent, with his name etched onto it. A tiny, sealed flame seemed to flicker within its depths.
He was also given a cultivation manual.
"Ode to the Great Joy of Yin and Yang." The foundational text of the Pleasure Union Hall. It was said to guide one in refining True Qi and entering the Qi Refining Realm.
An elderly attendant leading them away muttered, "Your Life Flame is sealed within that token. Carry it with you at all times. The sect's formations, spirit plants, and guardian beasts recognize the token, not your face. Forget it, and you'll die. Don't come crying to me."
Soon, the group arrived before an ornate palace.
Waiting at its entrance was a woman in a flowing, sheer gown, the slit running high up her thigh. Her every movement and glance exuded a captivating, lazy allure.
Gulp.
Lü Yang clearly heard the person next to him swallow hard.
Noticing the stares, the woman showed no shyness. Instead, she covered her mouth with a light laugh and casually hitched the hem of her skirt a little higher. A jade token, identical to Lü Yang's, dangled precariously from her sash, swaying before the soft curve of her breast.
The name carved on it was: Yu Suzhen.
"This is the Pleasure Union Hall. I am Yu Suzhen. You may call me Senior Sister."
In the next instant, Lü Yang noticed the beautiful woman's—Yu Suzhen's—eyes brighten. Her gaze locked onto him, sharp and undisguised.
"This junior brother is so handsome. You must be assigned to my Pleasure Union Hall."
She chuckled, then swayed forward, her slender waist and the gentle swish of her skirts a dizzying sight. She stopped directly in front of Lü Yang, the faint scent of perfume washing over him.
"I find you quite pleasing. Come with me. I'll give you a… personal introduction to the hall."
Lü Yang quickly cupped his fists. "Thank you, Senior Sister Yu."
"Why so formal?"
Yu Suzhen gave him a look that was half-chiding, half-inviting, then turned. The seductive sway of her hips as she walked ignited a rush of heat in more than one observer.
Lü Yang did not dare look longer. He lowered his head and followed silently.
"Disciples of our Holy Sect are divided into Inner and Outer Sects. The four Outer Halls—Treasure Refining, Alchemy, Beast Taming, and Pleasure Union—are where you nominal disciples begin."
"Only by passing the trials of these four halls can you enter the Inner Sect, receive true teachings, and become a formal disciple."
"You're fortunate to be assigned to my Pleasure Union Hall. The work here isn't as… grueling as the other three. Our trials are also… considerably more enjoyable."
As she spoke, Yu Suzhen drifted closer to Lü Yang, closing the distance between them.
"Want to know what they are?"
In the next second, Lü Yang felt warm breath against his ear, and a sweet, cloying fragrance filled his senses. He turned his head slightly and found her delicate, beautiful face mere inches from his.
"Please enlighten me, Senior Sister," Lü Yang said, forcing himself to meet her gaze.
"Dual Cultivation."
The words were a soft, honeyed whisper, like a lover's murmur. Before the last syllable faded, a slender, pale hand had already come to rest gently on top of Lü Yang's head.
Her fingers gave a tender, almost caressing squeeze—
Lü Yang instantly drew a sharp, hissed breath.