Chapter One: Today Is My Sixtieth Birthday

As the first rays of morning sunlight crept over the horizon, a thin plume of cooking smoke rose from the little village nestled amid the encircling mountains.

Inside a shabby thatched cottage, Lin Ze sat on a wooden chair, gazing at the busy crowd outside preparing food, a faint sense of nostalgia flickering in his eyes.

They were making ready for a birthday feast.

It was Old Lin’s sixtieth birthday.

The reason why everyone else was bustling outside while Lin Ze could leisurely sit here was simple—he was the birthday celebrant today.

“If my father knew I was throwing a birthday banquet before he ever did, I wonder what expression he’d have.”

Lin Ze chuckled wryly and slowly closed his eyes.

“Keep moving, all of you!” the village chief shouted, his voice echoing through the air. Today was Old Lin’s birthday, and the village had decided to honor him with a grand banquet. The tables were cobbled together by the villagers; atop them lay the best dishes each household could muster.

Times were hard, meat was precious; ordinary folk might not slaughter a chicken for half a year, but today everyone was astonishingly generous.

A basin full of pork head meat thudded onto a table; several fat, glistening pork knuckles were set in the center, flanked by plates of roast chicken and goose. A clay jar, freshly unsealed, released a heady aroma of wine that nearly carried beyond the village.

The village chief, beaming, eyed the thatched cottage and turned to glare at his grandchildren, signaling the little rascals to stand up straight.

Old Lin was a figure of legend, almost a terrestrial immortal. Yet ever since he’d taken in the pale, delicate child from Xiao Daniu’s family three years ago, he’d never spoken of accepting another disciple.

No matter.

In his younger years, the gentleman had traveled far and wide, gathering four disciples, each gifted and clever.

He’d treated them as his own sons, teaching them diligently and eventually sending them all to the Eastern Yue Immortal Sect in search of immortality.

By now, surely they’d become immortals!

When they returned to celebrate their master’s birthday, the village children might have the chance to follow them to the Immortal Sect, which would be far better than eking out a living in this barren land.

“Chief, the dishes are all served.”

“Then wait patiently!”

…

Four hours passed in waiting; the afternoon sun was harsh and glaring.

The villagers exchanged puzzled looks. It was their master’s sixtieth birthday—why hadn’t his disciples arrived yet?

“Did Old Lin really have four disciples?” a younger man asked, doubt in his voice.

“If you keep spouting nonsense, I’ll tear your mouth apart!” the village chief cursed, his face darkening, his confidence wavering.

As the sun set and the sky grew dim, the dishes on the tables had been reheated three times.

Some villagers began to slip away with their children, their eyes tinged with ridicule.

Even the elders, who claimed to have seen the four disciples themselves, were beginning to doubt: Old Lin said he’d sent them to the Immortal Sect, but no one had actually seen it happen. Not only that, Old Lin himself had never shown any supernatural abilities; most villagers had only heard rumors, which had grown more fantastical over time.

Was it all just a fabrication?

As the crowd outside gradually dispersed until none remained, Lin Ze, inside the cottage, suddenly opened his eyes and rose to his feet.

His features were fair, his figure slender, and his simple blue robe lent him an air of otherworldly grace. Though it was his sixtieth birthday, he looked barely forty.

He shook his head and spoke softly, as if to comfort himself, “Perhaps they ran into trouble on the road?”

He seemed to be speaking to himself, yet in his mind he heard an aged sigh, laced with confusion and worry, which finally faded into a long, peaceful acceptance.

“Farewell, sir.” Lin Ze stood and clasped his hands in respect, his gaze suddenly clear.

He had crossed into this world more than three months ago, and the lingering obsession within him vanished along with the sigh.

The real Old Lin had died on the road, intercepting a beast attack on Xiao Family Village. He was no immortal, merely a loose cultivator at the peak of the Qi Refining stage.

His final wish had been to see his disciples one last time, and the faint remnant of his soul had held out until today.

Lin Ze admired the man’s character, so he’d been willing to wait those extra three months.

Now that all ties were severed, he could finally begin to pursue his own goals.

As for those disciples, Lin Ze thought: if they came, so much the better; if not, there was little more to say.

For cultivators of the Immortal Sect, it was perfectly normal to forget about the Qi Refining master who had guided them in a remote village. The world was bustling for profit; if there was nothing to gain, why keep it in mind?

“Open the panel,” Lin Ze murmured. Instantly, a screen appeared before his eyes.

[Welcome to the Immortal Cultivation Simulator]

[Level: One]

[Character Card: Xiao Bao]

[Skill Card: None]

[Insufficient materials: Simulation failed]

[Remaining attempts today: Five]

Lin Ze withdrew his gaze.

This was something that had appeared in his mind upon crossing into this world, fully recreating this realm as a game map. All he needed to do was extract information about others, condense it into character cards, add cultivation skills, and combine them into a game character to simulate endless future possibilities.

Any opportunities gained by the character in simulation could be duplicated for himself; depending on the level of trust, the simulator would choose which opportunities to copy.

Unfortunately, his predecessor’s mind was fixated on his disciples; his memories of the past were scattered, and his cultivation knowledge was incomplete, leaving Lin Ze unable to craft even a single skill card, and he had yet to use the simulator properly.

He had hoped that after so many years of nurturing four disciples, they would have learned plenty of techniques and secrets. If even one returned today, things would be much easier.

A pity, but it didn’t matter.

He hadn’t held much hope to begin with.

Qi Refining cultivators live up to a hundred years, akin to robust ordinary folk, but this body had suffered grievous wounds in the struggle against beasts, and would last no more than ten years.

In other words, his time was limited. If he wished to survive, he needed at least to break through to the Foundation Establishment stage.

Lin Ze returned to his room, took out his already packed luggage, tossed it onto the table, and unfolded a rough map.

The mountains teemed with beasts, but rather than linger in the village and eke out survival, he preferred to take his chances. As long as he escaped this remote region, he might find cultivation techniques.

“Master, will the senior disciples ride big horses to come?” The bald, adorable little boy squatted at the doorway, gazing into the distance with hopeful eyes.

“Master doesn’t know,” Lin Ze replied with a smile.

This child was named Xiao Bao, the last disciple Old Lin accepted in recent years. The plan had been to teach him basic breathing techniques after his tenth birthday, then entrust him to the older disciples to take to Eastern Yue Sect, but fate intervened and the matter was delayed.

Others took disciples for the sake of retirement; Old Lin’s motives were unclear. He treated his disciples as his own sons, never seeking anything in return; his greatest wish was for them to visit him once in a while.

One must understand: entering an Immortal Sect meant taking a new master, effectively handing your disciples over to others. Few would make such a foolish choice.

Then there was the beast incident. Its intent had only been to eat a few ordinary people, but Old Lin fought it to the death, twisting off its head at the foot of the mountain, perishing together. Had Lin Ze not crossed over in time and dragged the body back to the cottage, the remains would have long been devoured by wild beasts drawn by the scent of blood.

He’d spent a lifetime as a good man, only to meet such an end; Lin Ze couldn’t help but sigh.

He felt a pang of dissatisfaction toward those disciples he’d never met.

Unless they suffered hidden injuries, Qi Refining cultivators could easily reach a hundred years; Foundation Establishment extended life to two hundred. Even if busy, surely they could spare two or three days. While talent matters, without Old Lin’s guidance, the great sects might never have chosen them from the masses.

Even a thousand-li horse needs a discerning eye; those disciples weren’t exactly dragons among men.

Lin Ze shook his head and continued to study the map. Suddenly, Xiao Bao’s voice sounded from outside: “Father, Mother, you’re here!”

A burly man in a short jacket shuffled in, his face awkward, and bowed respectfully. “Sir Lin.”

Behind him, the farm wife rolled her eyes and pulled Xiao Bao behind her.

“Is something the matter?” Lin Ze looked up with a smile, already guessing from their odd expressions.

After today’s farce, the couple likely suspected him, thinking he was a fraud, and had hurried over to take Xiao Bao away.

“Sir, our family’s been busy these days, and I’d like to take Bao’er home to help out,” the mother said, squeezing out a forced smile.

Lin Ze did not rush to answer.

Instead, he reopened the panel and looked at the sole character card.

[Xiao Bao: Legendary]

The card glowed with brilliant gold, recording five attributes.

Talent, Identity, Personality, Opportunity, Trust.

Aside from the boundless Opportunity attribute, the other four were capped at twenty. A combined score under thirty was normal, under sixty rare, under ninety epic, and only above ninety could produce this dazzling gold.

Xiao Bao’s identity score was zero, meaning that in all other aspects he was extraordinarily outstanding, and his Opportunity surpassed the twenty-point threshold.

Born with the fate of a protagonist.