I was the number-one Immortal Venerable in the immortal realm, but after failing my tribulation, I became a mortal schoolteacher. These seventeen disciples before me have no spiritual roots, are dumber than pigs, or are timid as mice. The entire cultivation world is waiting to laugh at me. But I refuse to believe it: if they have no spiritual roots, I'll teach them to cultivate through physical training; if they're slow to understand, hard work will make up for it; if they're timid, they'll prove the Dao in their dreams. A hundred years later, the Demon Realm invades, and the righteous sects are driven back at every turn. At the moment of crisis, seventeen streaks of rainbow light descend from the heavens. The eldest disciple, once called a "good-for-nothing," leads the way and slays the Demon Venerable with a single sword strike. The world is horrified to discover that all seventeen good-for-nothings have ascended to immortality. Meanwhile, their teacher sits in a ruined temple and sighs: "Can these rebellious disciples give their master a little less to worry about?"
