The Saintess Takes a Disciple – Lu Ren was dying. Not in the dramatic, heroic way he’d imagined when he first arrived in this world. No — he was dying because he couldn’t climb stairs. Hundreds of blue stone steps stretched above him, vanishing into the clouds where the Azure Cloud Sect’s mountain gate waited. Sweat dripped from his forehead. His legs trembled. His lungs burned. “Of course one of the four great sects would build their front door halfway to heaven,” he muttered between gasps. Back on Earth, Lu Ren had been a perfectly ordinary young man — right up until a ridiculous misunderstanding over a spicy tofu dish got him killed. Not metaphorically. Actually killed. The next thing he knew, he’d woken up on the Xuanhuang Continent — body and soul, transported whole. No host body. No inherited memories. Just himself, dropped into a world where people could shatter mountains with their fists. It took three days for the shock to wear off.
Then came something unexpected: excitement. He was an orphan. Single. No one waiting for him back home. If the universe was going to hand him a second life in a world of martial cultivation, he’d take it. Besides, he hadn’t arrived empty-handed. Before crossing over, he’d picked up a small bronze pagoda from a street vendor — no bigger than a finger. While he was fiddling with it one day, the thing burrowed into his body, flooding him with gray-white light and a crushing wave of force. The world spun. When his vision cleared, he was standing in a sealed space — sky perfectly round above, earth perfectly flat below, nothing but swirling chaos in between. It took him months to figure out what the Nameless Pagoda could do. Time. It stored time. Inside the pagoda, he could stay for hours, days, years — and when he stepped out, only a single second would have passed in the real world. Side effects? Limitations? He didn’t care. Infinite training time meant infinite potential. Even the worst talent in the world could become something with enough hours behind it. There was just one problem.
In this world, cultivation began with opening your apertures — spiritual gateways within the body that channeled power. The gifted could open them through sheer talent. Everyone else needed an Aperture-Opening Pill. Lu Ren, as an Earthling with zero cultivation heritage, fell squarely into the “everyone else” category. Actually, he fell below it. He’d tried joining several smaller sects. Every one of them rejected him the moment they tested his talent. Too weak. Too ordinary. Not worth the pill. Then he heard that the Azure Cloud Sect — one of the kingdom’s four great sects — was recruiting new disciples. He’d traveled for days to get here. And now the stairs were trying to finish what the tofu incident started. After a brief rest, he forced himself upward again. Half an hour later, he finally staggered through the mountain gate and collapsed at the edge of a massive square. The square was packed. Hundreds of young men and women stood in neat rows, all of them taller, stronger, and infinitely more confident than Lu Ren. He took one look at the crowd and abandoned any thought of pushing to the front.
Instead, he stayed at the very back, peering toward the raised platform at the far end. A middle-aged man in black robes stood on the platform. His presence was suffocating — the kind of authority that made you lower your eyes on instinct. “I am Elder Zhu Tie, and I oversee this entrance examination.” His voice carried across the square without effort. “I’ll keep this brief. The Azure Cloud Sect tests one thing: your bloodline. “Bloodlines are ranked in nine grades. First is the lowest. Ninth is the highest. Above the ninth grade lies the Divine-Grade — the stuff of legends.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “The higher your grade, the greater your talent and potential. Anyone with a fourth-grade bloodline or above may enter the sect.” Four disciples hauled a massive blue stone tablet onto the platform. It stood three meters tall, carved with eleven markings — one gray scale at the bottom, and ten blood-red scales above it. “This is a high-level Bloodline Stone,” Zhu Tie continued. “Each red scale that lights up represents one grade. Nine scales — ninth-grade bloodline. If all ten light up…” He let the silence do the work. “That is the Divine-Grade.” “Maybe I have Divine-Grade potential!” The crowd buzzed with barely contained excitement.
Everyone here had already tested their bloodline at home, but family-owned stones were low-grade instruments — they could only detect up to fourth-grade at best. The real measurement happened here. Lu Ren lingered at the edge of the crowd and tapped the shoulder of a boy in front of him. “Hey, genius — what does the gray scale at the bottom mean?” The boy brightened at being called a genius and explained eagerly: “Oh, that? It represents people who can’t cultivate at all. The more they train, the weaker they get. They might even cripple themselves trying. People call it the Trash-Grade Bloodline.” Lu Ren didn’t hesitate. He turned to leave. He’d failed enough bloodline tests to know the outcome. If the Azure Cloud Sect’s stone was even more precise than the others, he had zero chance. Whoosh! A figure dropped from the sky, landing gracefully beside Elder Zhu Tie. She wore a flowing white dress. Her features were flawless — cold eyes, an aura sharp enough to cut, and the quiet elegance of an orchid blooming in an empty valley.
Every head in the square turned toward her. “That’s Yun Qingyao — the Saintess of Jiangyun Kingdom!” “Seventh-grade bloodline… reached the Divine Sea Realm before thirty… became an elder of the Azure Cloud Sect…” “Why is she here? Is she taking a disciple?” The whispers spread like wildfire. Elder Zhu Tie smiled at her. “Elder Yun, you’ve finally come to choose a disciple. This year’s batch is quite promising — we might even have a sixth-grade talent for you.” Yun Qingyao didn’t spare him a glance. She stepped forward and addressed the crowd directly. “Today, I will take one disciple.” The square erupted. Yun Qingyao — the Saintess herself — offering personal mentorship? Anyone she chose would rocket to the top. Then she finished her sentence. “However, I will only accept someone with a bloodline of second-grade or lower.” Silence. “…Did she just say second-grade or lower?” “That’s — that’s basically someone who can’t cultivate at all!” “Everyone here has at least a fourth-grade bloodline. Who would show up to the Azure Cloud Sect’s exam with a second-grade?” “If my bloodline were that low, I’d be too embarrassed to walk through the gate!” The crowd erupted into confused murmuring.
It made no sense. Most ordinary people had first or second-grade bloodlines, and even a lifetime of effort couldn’t open their apertures. Third-grade and above could manage it with pills. Sixth-grade could do it through pure effort alone. Below second-grade? Hopeless. What was the Saintess thinking? Elder Zhu Tie’s expression darkened. “Elder Yun, the sect ordered you to take a disciple. Is this how you answer that order?” “The sect didn’t specify what kind of disciple.” Yun Qingyao’s icy face curved into the faintest smile. “I enjoy a challenge. Where’s the fun in nurturing someone who’s already talented? “I’ll take a disciple with a second-grade bloodline or lower. If none exists —” she shrugged, “— the sect can hardly blame me.” Zhu Tie’s face cycled through several shades of red and white. He looked ready to cough blood. She had no intention of actually teaching anyone.
Cultivation was all she cared about. This ridiculous condition was her escape hatch — a requirement so absurd that no one could possibly meet it. “Well then.” Yun Qingyao scanned the silent crowd, satisfied. “If no one qualifies, I’ll take my leave.” She turned to go. “Elder Yun!” A voice rang out from the back of the square. “I’m pretty sure I have a first-grade bloodline. Thank you for accepting me as your disciple!” Yun Qingyao froze mid-step. Her entire body went rigid. The crowd parted, staring in disbelief at the plain-faced, sweat-soaked young man walking toward the platform with a grin on his face. A first-grade bloodline. A Trash-Grade nobody — at the Azure Cloud Sect’s entrance exam. And he was smiling.