Immortal-Seeking Heavenly Lord

Immortal-Seeking Heavenly Lord

Chapter One: The Thunder Talisman Sinks into the Abyss, Ninghai in the Mist

The morning fog in Ninghai Town always carried a damp, salty tang. It clung to the patterns in the bluestone paving and to the hems of Ling Che’s Daoist robe.

He squatted in the rear courtyard of the Sanqing Sect’s branch, a Nine Heavens Thunder Talisman pinched between his fingers. His peachwood talisman brush hovered over the paper, pale golden spiritual energy flowing along its tip, only to dissipate the moment it touched the talisman’s pattern. When his third attempt failed, the paper went up in a hiss and crumbled to ash. A gust of wind blew the black flecks onto his faded Daoist robe like a stain that would never wash out.

“Well, if it isn’t our Sanqing Sect’s very own Ling Che, the junior brother who’s best at ‘saving lives.’ Practicing those flashy but useless thunder talismans again?”

A cutting laugh came from the courtyard gate. Two fellow disciples in brocade Daoist robes leaned against the frame, their eyes full of mockery. Ling Che stood and silently slipped the brush back into his sash. Among the Sanqing Sect’s “Ling” generation of disciples, he was the only Heavenly Lord. He could cast the Sweet Dew Art and Spring Renewal Talismans with ease. At the last sect competition, if he hadn’t dragged Senior Brother Jingang back from death’s door, the Sanqing Sect would likely have lost its guardian sect token for Ninghai Town.

But a Heavenly Lord’s cultivation was about more than healing. Immobilizing foes with thunder talismans, stunning them with summoned lightning, and layering Nine Heavens Thunder Talismans to unleash an explosive attack: that was the true meaning of the ancient Heavenly Lord’s all-around offense and defense. But Ling Che’s thunder talismans were always just shy of success. Either his spiritual energy dispersed, or the damage was negligible. Before long, “the good-for-nothing Heavenly Lord who can only heal” had become a joke everyone shared without saying it aloud.

“Junior Brother Ling Che.” A gentle voice interrupted the taunts. His master, Xuanjizi, emerged through the morning mist, holding a palm-sized