Chapter 59: Xuanhuang Dao Canon

The Qingwu Group was one of the Federation’s most established conglomerates in the modern urban version, holding a high status thanks to its deep involvement in the cultural and entertainment industry.

Nearly every major platform in the urban version—short video apps, entertainment portals, and social media—was connected to Qingwu Group in some way.

Beyond that, Qingwu Group also invested heavily in talent cultivation, transforming influencers into monetizable assets and propelling the entertainment industry forward through their traffic.

Almost every famous influencer on short video platforms, even major film and TV stars, had ties to Qingwu Group.

Lu Yan had long heard of this, and during his investigation of Ji Xingyao, he had even learned that her signed company was none other than the Qingwu Group.

But what he hadn’t expected—what completely shattered his understanding—was that the Qingwu Group in the urban version… was the Clear Sun Sect in the Immortal Cultivation version!

One was a righteous sect among the Ten Grand Daoist Orthodoxy of the Immortal Cultivation version, overseeing eight thousand miles of Southern Territory.

The other was a top-tier entertainment conglomerate, with its hands in nearly every facet of pop culture and media.

While Lu Yan knew that many things in one version had parallels in another, the gap between a cultivation sect and an entertainment company was just too vast.

Recalling the stream of influencer-like cultivators he’d passed along the way—and Ji Xingyao, once a prominent but now-fallen influencer turned core disciple—Lu Yan couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of his lips.

“So… is the Clear Sun Sect’s disciple training system basically an influencer incubation program?”

The high-gloss filter he’d mentally applied to orthodox sects shattered completely.

Looking again at the ethereal, mist-wrapped mountain gate before him, Lu Yan suddenly felt like he was staring at the Qingwu Group headquarters, dressed up in immortal robes.

A sprawling mountain range and a skyscraper seemed leagues apart, but with the way the world updated its versions, was mountain-to-tower transformation really so impossible?

“If I went to become some sort of influencer too… would I be able to enter the Clear Sun Sect just as smoothly?”

With Ji Xingyao’s support, Lu Yan found the idea disturbingly plausible.

While his thoughts wandered down this absurd path, he finally arrived at the Sutra Repository.

The repository stood atop a lone peak within the Clear Sun Sect, built into a nine-story pagoda tower. The area surrounding it was surprisingly quiet. Even those cultivators who did come and go often turned into streaks of light—clearly not ordinary inner disciples.

Just as Lu Yan descended before the tower, a cultivator clad in purple robes strode out from within.

Lu Yan instinctively glanced at the man’s face, but quickly realized it was impolite and lowered his head.

Only after the purple-robed man flew away did Lu Yan dare look up again.

As he recalled the man’s appearance, a strange familiarity struck him. The man resembled a historical novelist from the urban version’s textbooks.

But that novelist had been dead for over a hundred years, known only through black-and-white photos. Lu Yan couldn’t be sure.

“…But if it really is him, it wouldn’t be entirely impossible.

People in the urban version usually only lived for a few decades, maybe a century. But in the Immortal Cultivation version, lifespans could stretch for hundreds or even thousands of years.

So if someone died of old age in the urban version, it wouldn’t make sense for them to also die at the same time in other versions, right?

They simply wouldn’t appear in the urban version again—but they could still exist in versions where their lifespan hadn’t been exhausted.”

“Still… the historical depth of the urban version is clearly far shorter than the Immortal one. The Clear Sun Sect has existed for tens of thousands of years here. If you tried tracing it back in the urban version, you’d hit the Stone Age.

There must be rules I don’t yet understand behind all of this.”

The more he interacted with this world, the smaller Lu Yan felt. In the face of version updates, individual will seemed utterly powerless.

With that thought, he stepped into the Sutra Repository.

——

The moment he entered, a deep, aged voice echoed around him:

“Sacred ground of scripture. Those without the right to transmit the Dao, turn back.”

“…Boy, you’re not of the Clear Sun Sect, are you?”

Lu Yan jolted to attention and quickly pulled out the Sutra Transmission Token.

In the blink of an eye, a purple-robed elder materialized silently before him.

The elder’s face was withered like a dead tree, his entire body exuding a decaying aura. With a bony hand, he picked up the token, and clicked his tongue in surprise.

“To think someone would waste a Sutra Transmission Token on an outsider… That’s a level of generosity even I must admire.”

Lu Yan looked at him curiously. “Senior, is there a difference?”

The elder shook the token lightly and explained:

“If an inner sect disciple holds a Sutra Transmission Token, they can access the first four floors of the Sutra Repository and select any inheritance they like.

If it’s a personal disciple, they can go directly to the fifth floor, where secret techniques for Golden Core cultivators and powerful divine abilities are stored.

And if it’s a core disciple, they may enter the sixth floor, where the most secretive and powerful inheritances of the sect reside—those that can directly guide one into Nascent Soul Realm!”

At that, the elder gave Lu Yan a look of sympathetic pity.

“If an outsider holds the token, they can still enter… but only access the first three floors, and they’re only allowed to choose one manual to take.

Granted, the Clear Sun Sect collects tomes from all across the world. Even the first three floors house many rare works. But most of them are on auxiliary subjects, like the Hundred Arts of Cultivation, or ancient myths and Daoist classics—not many actual cultivation methods.

Using a Sutra Transmission Token for this… is frankly a waste.”

Only then did Lu Yan truly understand the value of what Ji Xingyao had given him.

If she had used this token herself, she could have exchanged it for a Nascent Soul cultivation manual. This wasn’t just a rare treasure—it was something far more precious than she had claimed.

The elder casually tossed the token back to Lu Yan and added lazily:

“You have three days to browse. Use the token to activate the restriction on any tome.

Since there are no true cultivation techniques on the first three floors, you’re free to flip through anything you want. Consider it a small courtesy to outsiders.”

After a short pause, he gave another reminder.

“Many of the Hundred Arts tomes have embedded Dao Impressions. Learning them requires comprehending those impressions directly. Unless you have freakish talent, copying down the words won’t help much.

Make good use of your three days. Greed will only waste this precious opportunity.”

With that, the elder vanished into the depths of the repository.

Lu Yan let out a long breath. The elder’s purple cloud robe marked him as a Golden Core Elder, a being with an eight-hundred-year lifespan—practically a monster.

Even now, Lu Yan didn’t dare fully relax. He was certain the elder was still secretly watching the Sutra Repository from the shadows.

Without hesitation, Lu Yan clutched the token and began his search on the first floor.

Though the tower appeared small from the outside, its interior was a vast dimensional space. The first floor alone was like a boundless, maze-like library.

Lu Yan could only search by following the categories etched onto the towering shelves.

After half a day of meticulous searching, he finally found his goal on the second floor.

He used the token to unlock the restriction and eagerly looked at the cover of the book.

“Xuanhuang Dao Canon: Chapter on Artifact Forging through Merit.”

(End of Chapter)