The sun was setting, and the sky turned deep shades of orange and purple, casting an orange glow over the small city. The air was cool and crisp, signaling the end of summer and the start of autumn. A young man stood on the outside of the city gate, gazing out at the rolling hills beyond. He was tall and lean, with sharp features and deep-set eyes. His name was Liang Zhi, and he was not from this city.
Liang Zhi was a man like no other. He had lived for over three centuries, but he was not a cultivator. When he was a young scholar of 35, obsessed with uncovering the secrets of the universe, he consumed a spiritual herb that made him an immortal who would not die and would revive after 12 hours with all personal memories reset. He had devoted his life to the pursuit of knowledge and wisdom. He had traveled the world, seeking out the greatest scholars and masters of all kinds. He had studied medicine, philosophy, and martial arts, and he had become a master of all of them. He had even dabbled in alchemy and divination, but he had always been drawn to cultivation. He had learned to harness the power of Qi, allowing him to control the elements and perform incredible feats of strength and agility, but all of this was not even the surface of what real cultivators do.
Liang Zhi had been researching cultivation manuals for over two centuries, but he had never been able to create a manual that provided the level of detail and insight he pursued. If he wanted, he could have started his cultivation journey long ago, but he didn't because he didn't want to cultivate dao, which literally means the pursuit of the path without even understanding what the path is, its mystery, purpose, and depth. As what he lacked most was not time, but the understanding of the path.
Liang Zhi gazed out over the vast landscape before him, a mixture of awe and curiosity filling his mind. He had been traveling the world for centuries, yet he still found himself fascinated by the beauty and mystery of the world around him. The massive gate was flanked by two towering statues, each depicting a fierce-looking warrior with a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. The gate was heavily guarded, and Liang Zhi knew that he would have to convince the guards to let him enter.
Approaching the guards, Liang Zhi could see the skepticism in their eyes. "What business do you have here?" one of them demanded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"I am Liang Zhi," he replied calmly, "a traveler seeking knowledge and wisdom. I have come to this city in search of the greatest cultivators and scholars."
The guards exchanged a glance before one of them stepped forward. "We cannot simply let anyone into the city, especially not without proper credentials," he said sternly.
Liang Zhi nodded in understanding. "I am well aware of the importance of security. However, I assure you that I am no threat to this city. I have spent my entire life pursuing knowledge and wisdom, and I come to this city in search of the same."
The guards studied him for a few moments before the one who had spoken before nodded. "Very well," he said, "but we will need to search your belongings before we allow you to enter."
Liang Zhi nodded and stepped forward, allowing the guards to search him. They found nothing of concern, and he was allowed to pass through the gate and enter the city
The city was unlike any that Liang Zhi had ever seen. It was a bustling metropolis, filled with people of all kinds. Merchants shouted out their wares from street stalls, and scholars debated in open courtyards. The sounds of the city filled the air, from the clanging of blacksmiths' hammers to the calls of street vendors.
As he walked through the bustling streets of the city, he couldn't help but observe the people around him. They went about their daily lives, completely unaware of the ancient being in their midst, his appearance unchanged for over three centuries. Liang Zhi had learned long ago to blend in with his surroundings, to avoid drawing too much attention to himself. He had no interest in becoming famous or powerful; his only desire was to enjoy his life fullest and cultivation is the only way to achieve it.
He approached a small shop, its sign proclaiming it to be a purveyor of rare books and manuscripts. Liang Zhi's eyes lit up; he had been searching and researching cultivation tomes for years, and he had a clue that this might be the place where he would find one of the tome he was searching for. He pushed open the door and stepped inside, the musty scent of old parchment filling his nostrils. The shopkeeper, an old man with a kindly face, looked up from his desk and smiled. "Welcome, traveler. What can I do for you today?" Liang Zhi nodded politely. "I am in search of a rare tome," he said. "It is said to contain knowledge of the ancient history, and your family should have one I am looking for."
The shopkeeper's eyes widened. "Ah, you seek the forbidden knowledge. Very well, I may have just the thing for you."
Liang Zhi smiled inwardly at the mention of "forbidden knowledge." He had encountered such things before on his travels, but he knew better than to dismiss them out of hand. The ancient arts were powerful and dangerous, and yet they held the key to unlocking the secrets of the universe.
As the shopkeeper disappeared into the back room, Liang Zhi glanced around the shop, taking in the shelves of tomes and manuscripts that lined the walls. He noticed that many of the tomes were written in languages that he had never seen before, which only piqued his curiosity even further.
After a few minutes, the shopkeeper returned, carrying a thick, leather-bound tome. He set it on the counter and pushed it toward Liang Zhi.
Liang Zhi's heart quickened as he took the thick, leather-bound tome from the shopkeeper's outstretched hand. The cover was worn and cracked with age, and the gold lettering on the spine was barely visible. He opened the tome, and his eyes widened as he saw the pages filled with ancient symbols and diagrams. He traced the letters with his finger, trying to make out the title. Though He recognized some of the alphabet shapes in the script from his previous studies, most were completely foreign to him.
"What language is this?" he asked the shopkeeper, his eyes still fixed on the tome.
The old man smiled knowingly. "That is a language that has long been forgotten by mortals. It is said to have been used by the gods themselves."
Liang Zhi felt a chill run down his spine at the mention of the gods. He had never been a particularly religious man, but he had always been fascinated by the myths and legends that surrounded the gods and their interactions with mortals. He knew that there were many powerful cultivators who claimed to have been blessed by the gods or who sought to ascend to godhood themselves.
"May I see inside?" he asked, eager to uncover the secrets that lay within.
