I Pick Up Disciples in the Cultivation World

Mu Mingxuan awoke in a mass grave and discovered she had come to life inside the corpse of an eight-year-old girl. She was bound to Apprentice-Master System No. 089, had become illiterate, and had to recruit an apprentice within three months. Otherwise, the System would run out of energy and her life force would be extinguished.

She raised a hand and looked at her bluish-white skin. She hardly looked alive. Wouldn’t she scare people if she went outside like this?

All she could do was rummage through the dead people’s clothes in the mass grave and wrap herself up as tightly as possible.

Then, on her very first day in the world, she was arrested and thrown in jail.

“...I really am not a demonic cultivator.”

No. 089 cursed furiously, saying the people who had arrested her had something wrong with their heads. All they had to do was check her spiritual root and they would see she was a good-for-nothing who couldn’t cultivate.

What No. 089 said made sense, but Mu Mingxuan couldn’t help feeling she’d been insulted too.

Everyone said that the disciples of Weitang were heaven’s favored children, powerful beyond compare. But they didn’t know that, long ago, Weitang was nothing more than a little sect founded by an eight-year-old girl and the people she gathered: her limping eldest apprentice, who had been poisoned by Gu, her second apprentice, a pearl-diving orphan girl, and a martial artist she had recruited along the way. Together, they had clawed their way up from the mortal world.

One thatched hut, four people, and four meditation cushions. That was the original Weitang.

Second apprentice Lan Ya asked, “Master, does this mean we count as a sect now?”

Mu Mingxuan said, “Mm. Didn’t we just register it?”

Eldest apprentice Lin Xuan said, “Good thing they didn’t come inspect what our sect looks like.”

Mu Mingxuan smiled faintly. “I just paid a little extra in spirit stones.”