I have no spiritual roots, do nothing but loaf around, and constantly cause trouble. I'm universally recognized as the weakest link in the immortal sects.
But unfortunately for everyone, I'm the handpicked final disciple of the sect's founding patriarch. No matter how unhappy you are, you still have to call me “Grandmaster Junior.”
When the founding patriarch announces he'll enter seclusion for 500 years, the whole community votes me out of the sect.
I don't lose heart or hold a grudge. Instead, I happily start an immortal-cultivation cram school called “Study Your Way to Immortality,” helping all the hopeless cases get into immortal sects and the sects' deadweight disciples advance. In the end, even the sect tyrants flock to take my “Immortal Admission Team” exam.
Before long, the crowds crush the entrance to “Study Your Way to Immortality,” and money pours in like a mythical beast gone wild.
Good looking, super good looking