There Are No Immortals on Qingyun Peak

Shen Changjun, the master of Qingyun Peak, was once the most promising swordsman in the entire Taixu Immortal Sect. Fifty years ago, he proclaimed himself Meridian and sat withered in the back mountain, becoming a piece of rotten wood that the whole sect could not avoid. It was also the year of recruiting disciples, and the master personally went to the mountain to persuade him to show his face and pick a disciple to support the family. Shen Changjun went there reluctantly and picked up a mute boy with no spiritual roots from among the unsuccessful disciples. The whole sect was waiting to see his joke, and the young man thought that he was just a handyman who was hired to sweep the floor and chop firewood. Until that night, the young man pushed open his courtyard door and wrote a line of words on the ground with sand - "Master, the sword technique you practiced three days ago, is there still half a move after the thirty-seventh move?" Shen Changjun looked down at the line of words and crushed the tea cup he had poured for three days. The apprentice he accepted was wrong.