Chapter 50: The Cultivation God!

On Jiejian Mountain in Liangzhou, Dayan Nation.

Jiang Ningan, clad in snow-white robes, moved with grace, as if a celestial immortal walked the mortal world.

At that moment, she held the latest issue of the Heavenly Mechanism List; when she saw the name atop the Ascending Dragon Rank, her expression showed no surprise—this matched her own expectations perfectly.

“At Hu Sha Men in Yunzhou? That’s quite far from Liangzhou. No wonder he didn’t want to mention being grouped with such lowlifes.” Jiang Ningan murmured softly, her features as delicate as a painted scroll.

As she muttered, her gaze unconsciously flicked to the “Component” column’s top-ranked Cauldron, then her face flushed faintly as some thought crossed her mind—she spat lightly in disgust.

“Is this the genius you meant?” Suddenly, a calm voice emerged from behind Jiang Ningan, as if materializing from thin air. Liu Qingmeng gazed at the book in her hands and spoke slowly.

“Master.” Hearing the voice behind her, Jiang Ningan closed the book and turned to bow respectfully.

“Her talent is decent, but I wonder about her willpower. If she has nothing but raw talent, she’ll hit a wall at the Third Turn.” Liu Qingmeng assessed objectively.

After reaching the Path to Heaven, a martial artist is already a living miracle; innate deficiencies can be compensated through later cultivation. Raw talent alone cannot determine one’s destiny.

Thinking of this, Liu Qingmeng chuckled: “Still, a future Third Turn powerhouse is enough to make those fools restless. Very well—I’ll pay their sects a personal visit.”

“At least prevent those old men at the Path to Heaven from bullying the young.”

With that, Liu Qingmeng’s figure slowly faded, leaving only her echoing voice lingering in the valley.

…

Inside the Liyang Martial Hall, Ye Yonglie sat upon a high-backed chair, his gaze sweeping over the assembled disciples.

All disciples who had appeared yesterday had been forcibly gathered; though no one spoke, their stunned glances had already revealed much.

After just a few exchanged looks, each knew the purpose of this gathering.

“I assume you all know why I’ve called you here,” Ye Yonglie said, lifting a warm teacup and taking a small sip.

“I’ve gathered you regarding Young Master Fang.” His tone remained calm: “I won’t waste words—I’ve formally declared Young Master Fang as a deity.”

At these words, everyone first froze in shock, then a sense of inevitability rose in their hearts.

This method of deification was widely known; nearly every martial artist listed on the Dragon or Ascending Dragon Rankings had amassed a large following of believers.

Whether those Bangdan members were evil, righteous, greedy, arrogant, lustful, or ugly—

as long as they possessed strength and fame, fanatical worshippers flooded in from every corner of the world, eager to kneel before them as gods.

Legend said the First Great Deity of Dayan had never been defeated since his debut, ascending from one myth to another, with hundreds of millions of followers—once, every citizen of Dayan was his fanatic disciple.

But this deification method had two greatest challenges.

First, maintaining the deity’s invincible image; second, meeting the deity and receiving his permission to serve him.

Fang Can’s record was terrifying, his future destined for greatness—why wait any longer to invest?

“M-Master…” One disciple stepped forward: “I want to worship Young Master Fang as my god. I crave progress so desperately.”

“Yes, Master! We know why you called us—aren’t you just afraid we’ll leak it?”

Another disciple spoke with righteous fervor: “Let’s all keep this secret, worship Young Master Fang as our god, and grow alongside our deity together—isn’t that better?”

As he spoke, the other disciples silently agreed in their hearts.

Think of the rewards—being among the first followers, servants walking beside a deity incarnate…

“Insolent! What are you, to think you can grow alongside a deity?”

Yan Zhi stepped forward and cut them off: “Those who come for profit, whose hearts lack sincerity, gain nothing from worship.”

“You can fool others, but don’t fool yourselves. You who slouch during training, who cheat and shirk—your worship and martial practice are all empty words. No matter how hard you try, you’re just scheming opportunists.”

Yan Zhi’s tone dripped with contempt—he looked down on these disciples with utter disdain.

He had lived with them too long to not know their true nature.

Ye Yonglie was stuck at Xuanguan Sixth Level because, no matter how hard he tried, his innate talent capped at Sixth Level—that’s why he needed other methods to advance.

These disciples, meanwhile, slacked off daily, trained half-heartedly, never even reached their own talent’s ceiling, yet still sought shortcuts.

Such trash would be instantly swept away the moment they entered the Reverse Current River.

Worship demands abandoning all self, obeying the deity’s will as the only truth. But these people can’t even hold onto their own discipline—what right do they have to worship?

If the deity commanded you to enter Tsinghua, a true fanatic would study until exhaustion—even if he failed, he’d give everything. That’s the essence of worship. As for these disciples…

Under Yan Zhi’s scolding, the disciples all bowed their heads, some resentful, unable to refute him.

But then they heard Yan Zhi’s tone soften: “Though your nature is vile, it’s not beyond redemption—you simply need us to guide you.”

“Innate flaws can be compensated by later effort. Though your hearts lack sincerity now, you can gradually become devout by chanting the name of Lord Fang.”

“Then let’s begin with the first step. Everyone, sit cross-legged. Together, chant the name of our Lord—Lord Fang.”

Yan Zhi’s words carried an unseen, mysterious power; the disciples, deep in their subconscious, felt compelled to obey—to worship.

Yuan Dang watched this scene, a strange unease rising in him—as if…

‘No! It’s the Mind Phase!’ In an instant, Yuan Dang bit his tongue—sharp pain jolted him awake.

Feeling his mind sway with Yan Zhi’s words, he felt profound dread—this was an attempt to manipulate the disciples’ minds through the Mind Phase.

This Mind Phase influence was subtle, akin to psychological suggestion, so ordinary disciples noticed nothing.

Sitting with the others, watching them chant in unison the name of Lord Fang, a chill rose in Yuan Dang’s heart.

‘Something’s wrong—this is completely wrong. In my past life, at this point, Lord Fang should’ve been locked in a brutal struggle—but now…’

Amidst maintained mental calm, the voices of all present chanted Fang Can’s name in perfect unison, growing solemn and reverent.

‘But where is Fang Can now?’ Yuan Dang wondered.

He had no idea that, in Ye Qingshi’s chambers, Fang Can stared at the girl bound tightly by Master Ye, his expression bewildered.

(End of Chapter)