The Fragmented Continent: I Transmigrated Here from Earth

In this world, a spiritual root is an insurmountable divide between immortals and mortals. Zheng Moxun was born without one, leaving him a mere mortal laboring in the mines beneath an immortal sect, where a collapse or poisonous miasma could kill him at any moment. He refused to give in or accept his fate. While other cultivators absorbed the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and wielded flying swords and magical treasures, he honed every inch of his body and every fragment of his mind through the most menial labor, relying on nothing but mortal sweat and willpower.

The immortals saw him as an insect, and his fellow disciples mocked him as a fool. Yet Zheng Moxun discovered that once his body had been tempered to its limit and his will had become as unyielding as diamond, even a punch or a kick could shake the lofty arts of the immortals. He had no golden finger. His only support was this body, tempered day after day in hardship.

Others cultivate immortality in pursuit of freedom. I, Zheng Moxun, cultivate only to stand my ground in this dog-eat-dog world and live with dignity!

A mortal body, and a heart devoted to seeking the Dao that will never yield.