Immortal Venerable Daoist Master

At the summit of Little Green Mountain, the old sect master was revered as a transcendent immortal. His astonishing divine powers made it seem as though he could easily control everything in the world.

One by one, his seven disciples, each peerless in talent and unrivaled in their generation, fell and passed away.

As he bid farewell to his seventh disciple, the old sect master’s tears fell onto the coffin. With his bare hands, he forcibly split open the mountainside and placed the coffin inside Little Green Mountain. From then on, seven coffins stood neatly arranged within the mountain.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...”

“Hm? Why is one missing?”

“The eighth isn’t here yet!”

The old sect master scratched his head. With a wave of both hands, the entrance to Little Green Mountain slowly closed. He muttered to himself, “My eighth, where in the world are you?”

A boy who looked to be in his early teens was searching for mushrooms in the woods with a bamboo basket on his back.

The boy suddenly sneezed twice, and his snot flew a long way.

With practiced ease, the boy raised his left hand. His slender fingers quickly formed a series of divination signs. A moment later, his face filled with helpless frustration. “That old geezer still can’t stop thinking about me!”

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.