Rewrite My Fate to Become the Daoist Ancestor

One month later.

At the foot of Cyan Mountain.

"Cough, cough..."

The little boy struggled to support Zhao Ping as the two slowly and arduously climbed Cyan Mountain.

Zhao Ping’s face was as pale as paper, blood seeped through his clothes with each breath, his breathing was weak, and he appeared extremely frail.

The little boy was exhausted, both losing balance together, Zhao Ping fell heavily on the stone steps, a patch of bright red blood spreading rapidly beneath him.

"Uncle Zhao!"

The little boy scrambled and crawled, anxiously checking Zhao Ping’s condition.

"Jingtian... go..." Zhao Ping’s vision was blurred, he struggled to lift his hand, tremblingly pointing towards the mountain top.

"Uncle Zhao, you can’t die! It’s all my fault. If Jingtian didn’t burden you, how could those bad people have hurt you!" The little boy Jingtian, filled with self-reproach, was overwhelmed with guilt.

Jin Country’s eight hundred Black Cavalry, two Innate Experts, and eight Grandmasters were no match for Uncle Zhao. Only because of the addition of him as a burden did Uncle Zhao, the Qingfeng Sword Saint, suffer such severe injuries.

"It’s not your fault..." Before Zhao Ping could finish, he fell unconscious.

"Uncle Zhao."

Jingtian clenched his teeth, gathered his courage, and carried Zhao Ping’s weight on his slender shoulders, inch by inch he climbed towards the mountain summit.

"Huff, huff!"

After a hundred steps of arduous trekking, he was already panting repeatedly, with sweat and tears mingling and sliding down. He paused briefly, his gaze falling on the shocking bloodstains at the foot of the mountain.

"I can’t stop, Uncle Zhao’s senior brother is an Immortal, he must know a way to save Uncle Zhao."

"Yiya, yiya~"

Just as he prepared to carry Zhao Ping again, a strange sound came from above his head.

Little Jingtian first smelled a refreshing fragrance, his spirits lifted instantly.

He looked up and saw a tiny figure only three inches tall, dressed in a red bellyband, standing on a stone, the green leaf on its head gently swaying with the breeze.

"Demon, demon..."

Little Jingtian exclaimed, involuntarily falling onto the steps.

"Yiya~" The Ginseng Doll jumped down, looking at the unconscious Zhao Ping, frowning.

"You, you demon, what do you want to do to Uncle Zhao?" Little Jingtian saw this, drew the "Qingfeng Sword" from Zhao Ping’s waist, nervously pointing at Yiya.

"Yiya! Yiya~" The Ginseng Doll extended a small hand, pulled out a jade green, cloud-patterned pill from its bellyband, and pointed at Zhao Ping.

"You mean..." Little Jingtian slightly lowered the sword in his hand, received the jade green pill, "Give this pill to Uncle Zhao?"

"Yiya~" The Ginseng Doll nodded.

"Are you a demon raised by the Cyan Mountain Immortal?" Little Jingtian sniffed the jade green pill in his hand, immediately feeling his body relaxed, fatigue seemed to dissipate as well.

The Ginseng Doll nodded. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Little Jingtian carefully confirmed once more, then quickly administered it to Zhao Ping.

As soon as the pill entered, it quickly dissolved, Zhao Ping’s injuries rapidly healed at a visible speed, his previously pale complexion gradually regained its redness, his skin becoming smooth and delicate.

The pill continued to take effect, dirt on Zhao Ping’s body gradually peeled off and scattered, revealing his originally fair skin.

In an instant, the weathered uncle transformed into a young man with delicate features.

"Immortal Pill?!" Little Jingtian was dumbstruck, incredulous.

After a while, Zhao Ping slowly opened his eyes, let out a light sigh, glanced at his fair hands, knowing he was saved, he looked at the Ginseng Doll:

"Yiya, after so many years, Sect Leader Senior Brother’s ’Dust-removing Pill’ is finally completed."

"Yiya~"

The Ginseng Doll waved upward, signaling to follow.

"Uncle Zhao, you look so young now, I might as well call you Brother Zhao."

Little Jingtian followed Zhao Ping, chattering nonstop.

"Uncle Zhao, since the Cyan Mountain Immortal has such incredible powers, why doesn’t he come down the mountain himself... and instead let you patrol the world below."

"Let me say, this Cyan Mountain Immortal is rather incompetent, all these years, he doesn’t know how many people are suffering below the mountain..."

"Shh!"

The Ginseng Doll and Zhao Ping were both startled, hurriedly turned to cover Little Jingtian’s mouth.

Zhao Ping’s face became serious, he warned in a low voice: "Remember, do not discuss Sect Leader Senior Brother behind his back, understand? Nod if you get it."

"Mmm..." Little Jingtian nodded.

Only then did Zhao Ping let go.

"Uncle Zhao, why are you so afraid of him?" Little Jingtian curiously asked. Uncle Zhao was a warrior unfazed by thousands of troops, but at the mention of his Sect Leader Senior Brother, his expression turned unusually tense.

"It’s not fear, it’s respect."

Zhao Ping smiled helplessly, the image of Cyan Mountain’s "Black Wind Double Assassins" striking, and his master suffering flashed in his mind.

He wrote on Little Jingtian’s hand: "Sect Leader Senior Brother is extremely petty, offending him won’t end well."

Little Jingtian secretly thought to himself: "The Cyan Mountain Immortal is so narrow-minded? What’s the big deal about saying a few words? With such a disposition, how can he be called an Immortal..."

Cyan Mountain, White Cloud Hall.

"Zhao Ping, you finally decided to come back. We haven’t seen you for so many years, checking on your senior brother and sister," spoke a figure standing with hands behind his back in the center of the hall, the tone carrying a subtle hint of reproach.

"Sect Leader Senior Brother." Zhao Ping released Little Jingtian and knelt down with a thud.

In Jin Country, even the Monarch does not need to kneel with both knees, only to heaven, earth, and parents. Little Jingtian had never seen Uncle Zhao perform such a grand gesture. He understood that the young immortal before him held a very high status in Uncle Zhao’s heart.

"Rise."

Ning Xunqiu turned around, reached out, and helped Zhao Ping up. "We should set off."

"Sect Leader Senior Brother!"

Zhao Ping hesitated a moment, then raised his head and said, "I wish to stay...

Knowing that my natural talent is dull, it is only through your teachings that I reached today’s position. This journey on the immortal path is vague, and I am overwhelmed with great fear. Perhaps... life is a hundred years, swiftly pursuing joy and vengeance, doing what one must."

"Please, fulfill my wish, Senior Brother."

Ning Xunqiu remained silent.

For ten years, he ingested the Spirit Seed, earnestly cultivated the "Red Ape Demon Suppression Divine Will Battle Technique." Not long ago, he excavated the potential of the First Heaven Flesh Heaven and ascended to the Second Heaven to become the Soldier Master.

The "Chaos Seven Orifices Chapter" has already opened the eye, nose, and mouth Five Orifices with the Formless Primordial Spirit, but the Profound Dragon Pearl lacks sufficient Spiritual Qi in this fragmented heaven and earth, hindering their cultivation. Thus, he didn’t establish the Heaven and Earth Two Orifices.

Meanwhile, he also rewrote his life thrice, tested the "Dharma Gate" to prevent unexpected encounters, and scoured the world for gold and silver.

Since Zhao Ping’s arrival, Ning Xunqiu knew the result three years ago. His eyes slightly narrowed.

"Swoosh!"

"Swoosh!"

The sound of breaking through the air echoed continuously.

Within White Cloud Hall, six long swords suddenly flew out, steadily planting themselves before Zhao Ping, their blades resonating with a humming sound.

Ning Xunqiu untied the "White Cloud Sword" from his waist and solemnly handed it to Zhao Ping, "From now on, you will be the Cyan Mountain Sect Leader here."

"I heed the order of the Sect Leader." Zhao Ping sighed with relief and respectfully received the White Cloud Sword with both hands.

"Wind, Cloud, Rain, Thunder, Snow, Spirit, and Absolute, among the Seven Swords, I’ve left a Sword Intent in each. They serve as the foundation of Cyan Mountain; be sure to use them prudently."

Ning Xunqiu advised one by one.

"Master is secluded in Shennong Valley; go and consult him when needed. Yiya left you plenty of Treasure Medicine, and I also left some pills on Purple Mist Peak; use them sparingly."

"Yes."

Zhao Ping answered.

"Zhang Han, that young lad, doesn’t dare to come back and see me; you can inform him."

"Yes."

"For this journey, my sister and I don’t know how long it will take to return. You and Zhang Han shouldn’t die too soon; perhaps when our cultivation is completed, we can return to guide you on the path of cultivation."

"Yes."

"Then let it be."

Ning Xunqiu finished speaking and prepared to leave.

"Wait."

Little Jingtian spoke, "Immortal, are you leaving here? Where are you going? You should go down the mountain to save the common people, guiding them away from fire and water!"

"Even immortals are helpless in this matter."

Ning Xunqiu turned his head and replied, "In this world, after Jiang Hong comes Li Hong, Zhao Hong, Zhang Hong—eight hundred years of unending cycles."

"An immortal can save one era but not all eras; this is an unchangeable law."

Little Jingtian seemed to understand yet was confused, "Then, how can one break this law?"

"Break the law? Such ambition."

Ning Xunqiu gently patted Little Jingtian’s head, then crouched down and took out a book from his bosom.

"Only when people change themselves can they save themselves."

"Here I have a Cyan Mountain Secret Book that will enable people to awaken wisdom and discern right from wrong.

Are you willing to learn it and educate the people?"

Little Jingtian widened his eyes, staring at the book’s cover.

On it was boldly printed — "Great Unity of the World: Starting Point."

...

Many years later,

The disciples spread across the world, proposing ideas like "Universal Love," "Non-Attack," "Self-Strengthening," and were honored by the people as "Qingzi"—"Jingtian."

Near the end of his life, his eyes cloudy as he looked up at Cyan Heaven, recalling the scene when the youth handed him the book.

Postscript.

In the world of black, white, and gray, there is only a streak of cyan.

The ancestor of five thousand years of human civilization, through the lineage of Seven Saints, eighty-nine sages, educated the people.

A book, "Cyan Mountain Transmission," a civilization’s history—thus was the national treasure appraised.

...