Mo Hua sighed, a hint of helplessness on his youthful face.
For cultivators at the bottom, there was no hope in cultivating the Dao…
In the first year of the Taoist Calendar, more than twenty thousand years ago, the largest power in the Tao Cultivation World—the Taoist Court—unified the Nine States of cultivation, ennobling noble clans and sects, and established a unified class system with standardized rankings for cultivation professions.
The Taoist Court then promulgated the “Taoist Law”, restricting cultivators from indiscriminate killing, looting, or replenishing from others.
Leveraged by this, the cultivation world developed peacefully for more than twenty thousand years, thriving to the utmost, with vast territories and innumerable cultivators.
However, amidst the Taoist Court’s prosperity and the noble clans’ luxurious lives, sects held immense power.
Only the bottom-level loose cultivators, with no affiliations, lived in hardship and had no hope for cultivating the Dao.
After more than twenty thousand years of proliferation in the cultivation world, mortals without a spiritual root were gradually naturally eliminated, leaving only those with spiritual roots who could practice Tao cultivation. But the more cultivators there were, the more spiritual energy they consumed, depleting the heaven and earth’s spiritual energy.
Now, for cultivators who wished to practice Tao cultivation, they needed not only heritage but also spirit stones.
Yet, with great clans occupying the spiritual mines, loose cultivators at the bottom lacked spirit stones, and great sects monopolized the heritage, leaving ordinary loose cultivators with no doorway to cultivation.
In Tongxian City, the vast majority of loose cultivators, without heritage and lacking spirit stones, would spend their whole lives as Qi-refining cultivators.
The Qi-refining realm is nothing but a humble ant under the vast Heavenly Dao.
And Mo Hua was one of these countless ants.
And very likely, he would be one for life!
Mo Hua’s tender face was slightly bitter.
Heavenly Dao might be equal, but cultivating the Dao, was absolutely not equal…
Mo Hua was a loose cultivator at the second level of Qi refinement, born into a family of cultivators from the Qi-refinement realm, both of his parents in the same cultivation stage.
His father, Mo Shan, made his living by hunting monster beasts, spending his days in life-threatening battles and accumulating scars over his body. His mother worked in the Food Building, cooking by the stove, her body constantly afflicted by the heat, often suffering from painful lungs and a dry cough.
And his parents, frugal in their expenditures, had saved all their spirit stones just so Mo Hua could practice cultivation at the Outer Gate of Tongxian Gate.
But no matter how Mo Hua cultivated, his mediocre spiritual root, although slightly better than ordinary people, was destined to be just among the average in a cultivation world full of geniuses.
No matter how much he practiced cultivation, he might remain just a Qi-refining cultivator.
With tough family conditions and no spirit stones, Mo Hua could only, like the other ordinary disciples, practice until he reached the sixth level of Qi refinement before leaving the sect, and then he would have to learn some craftsmanship to make a living.
But Mo Hua was naturally frail!
Practices like artifact refining and monster hunting, which were the livelihoods of Qi-refinement cultivators, typically required robust body cultivators. Mo Hua, with his inherently weak constitution, might not even be able to find a simple job to get by.
If one day he were to marry and have children, the burden would grow heavier, and all the spirit stones would be used to support his family.
Without spirit stones to cultivate, Mo Hua’s cultivation would forever stagnate, and he’d be nothing but a Qi-refining cultivator all his life.
Just like all the impoverished loose cultivators in Tongxian City.
Just like the countless bottom-level cultivators in the cultivation world.
Forever just a Qi-refining cultivator!
Ten-year-old Mo Hua sighed, adjusted his mindset, and went to the sect to attend classes. After a day of cultivation, Mo Hua returned to the Disciple’s Residence, read some Tao Cultivation Canons for a while, and then lay down in bed when it was 1 p.m.
As soon as Mo Hua closed his eyes, a fragmented stele appeared in his Sea of Consciousness.
There were no inscriptions on the stele, yet it seemed that from the moment Mo Hua first saw it, he knew its name:
Taoist Stele!