Volume One Chapter One The Seven-Treasure Gourd

Cangxuan Realm, Longevity Temple.

Within the temple, incense had long ceased to burn; everywhere was in ruins, and weeds grew rampant in the cracks of the blue-green bricks underfoot. To call this place a temple was generous—for it resembled a slum more than anything sacred.

In a desolate courtyard within, Li Hanzhou sat in a daze inside his room.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined things would come to this.

He was not a native of the Cangxuan Realm, but hailed from a place called Earth. Orphaned from childhood, he was picked up by an elderly Daoist and raised in this very temple. The old Daoist taught him the arts of geomancy and physiognomy, fortune-telling, talisman drawing, exorcism, and the inner doctrines of the Daoist sect. Yet, to Li Hanzhou, these were little more than tricks to swindle a meal—after all, where in the world were there really demons and monsters?

As for the Daoist cultivation method, the old Daoist practiced until his death without ever cultivating a single wisp of spiritual energy.

After the old master passed away and the temple was torn down, Li Hanzhou was forced to rely on these tricks to eke out a living. By night, he’d livestream fortune-telling and feng shui consultations online; by day, he ran a repair shop, fixing household appliances for others.

The days were meager but endurable. Then, three days ago, fortune finally seemed to smile upon him—he won the lottery, a windfall of thirty million!

The money had already arrived in his account. In the midst of his joy, he discovered that the Daoist cultivation method he’d practiced for years had unexpectedly produced a wisp of spiritual energy within his body. This filled him with even greater delight—it seemed all the luck in the world had come to him at once!

But with the advent of that wisp of spiritual energy, his vision suddenly went black, and when he regained consciousness, he found himself here.

He had transmigrated!

Li Hanzhou wanted nothing more than to curse the heavens for toying with him so. With thirty million in hand and a promising life just beginning, now he found himself in this forsaken place!

“Uncle-Master, Uncle-Master, are you done yet? The assessment at the Taixuan Holy Land begins tomorrow—have you finished making your spirit treasure?” A voice called anxiously from outside.

Peering through the crack in the door, Li Hanzhou saw three figures in the courtyard: two young men and a little girl.

“Almost, just a bit longer,” he replied perfunctorily.

Turning back, Li Hanzhou felt a headache brewing.

The so-called Longevity Temple was a sect in name only, having fallen into utter decline. The sect leader had left a year ago and never returned; no one knew where he’d gone. In his absence, only Li Hanzhou, the vice-sect leader, remained.

But the original owner of this body was a hopeless good-for-nothing with no talent for cultivation, low cultivation level, and an addiction to gambling. He’d only become vice-sect leader because he was the sect leader’s junior brother.

With the sect leader gone, the original had gambled away all valuables left in the temple. From several hundred disciples, only four remained.

Now they could barely afford food.

On top of that, there was an external debt of eight hundred taels of silver, due in less than seven days. If it wasn’t repaid, the debt collectors would come and break Li Hanzhou’s hands.

A few days prior, Taixuan Holy Land had announced a grand sect competition: any disciple under its banner who had reached the fifth rank in cultivation could participate. Achieving a spot among the top thousand would earn a reward of one thousand taels of silver.

The chief disciple was absent; the second disciple, Liu Dongyue, had just reached the fifth rank—barely qualifying. The original had coaxed Liu Dongyue into entering the competition, but Liu Dongyue was no fool; with his level of cultivation, he had no real chance and could even lose his life.

Other disciples had equipment, elixirs, treasures; they themselves had nothing but their wits—what was the point of participating?

Eventually, the original promised to make Liu Dongyue a spirit treasure. Only then did Liu Dongyue reluctantly agree.

But as the original attempted to forge the spirit treasure, he died suddenly and unexpectedly.

Leaving behind a bewildered Li Hanzhou, newly arrived from another world.

Li Hanzhou couldn’t help but admire the original’s audacity. In this world, those capable of crafting spirit treasures were known as Spirit Artisans, requiring powerful souls. Without sufficient soul strength, forcing the creation of a treasure would drain one’s spirit dry—resulting in instant death.

The original had no experience in crafting spirit treasures, and had somehow acquired a common guidebook before proceeding.

Drawing on his previous life’s experience repairing washing machines and fans, Li Hanzhou studied for two days and discovered that making a spirit treasure involved first fashioning its physical vessel, then inscribing runes upon it with soul power, and finally activating the treasure with true energy.

Now, before him sat a red gourd.

Its name: Seven-Treasure Gourd.

Its function: to forcibly absorb enemy weapons into itself.

Yet, the power of a magic treasure depended on the soul strength of its maker.

For three days, Li Hanzhou had racked his brain to find a way back to Earth, but to no avail. Now, only two paths lay before him: await the debt collectors and suffer broken hands, or send Liu Dongyue to the Taixuan Holy Land competition, win a thousand taels, and resolve the debt crisis.

“Either way, it’s do or die—might as well try!” Li Hanzhou grasped the red gourd, calmed his mind as instructed by the book, dipped his finger in cinnabar, and continued inscribing the remaining runes.

Two hours passed in this focused state.

When the last rune was written, Li Hanzhou emerged from his trance.

“Strange,” he murmured. The book said overexertion during spirit treasure crafting would cause headaches or dizziness, yet he felt nothing of the sort, and had finished the Seven-Treasure Gourd in just two hours.

“Let me test it.” He tapped the gourd, channeling his wisp of spiritual energy into it.

Instantly, the gourd began to tremble in his hand.

A faint green light suffused its surface.

“Is that it? Have I activated it?” Li Hanzhou was astonished—had he truly forged a legendary spirit treasure?

Did this mean he was now a Spirit Artisan?

But something seemed off.

Consulting the guidebook, he noted that a completed Seven-Treasure Gourd should emit a red glow, but he distinctly remembered his gourd radiating green.

Had he made a mistake?

He carefully compared the runes he’d inscribed, wondering if he’d made an error in the "code," but after triple-checking, he found nothing amiss.

“Uncle-Master, is it done yet?” came another voice from outside.

“What are you rushing for?” Li Hanzhou pushed open the door to see the three youths, the eldest and most powerful clearly Liu Dongyue, the second senior brother of the sect. The younger boy was Shi Ming, and the girl was Yun Qianzhu.

“Here you go.” Li Hanzhou tossed the Seven-Treasure Gourd to Liu Dongyue.

Liu Dongyue’s eyes lit up. “The Seven-Treasure Gourd!”

“It really is the Seven-Treasure Gourd!” Shi Ming and Yun Qianzhu exclaimed, crowding around in excitement.

For disciples of major sects or wealthy families, such postnatal spirit treasures were not uncommon—but for the impoverished Longevity Temple, they were unattainable luxuries.

Li Hanzhou himself had considered selling the gourd, but only treasures crafted by renowned artisans fetched a price; those made by unknowns like him were worthless.

A shoddy treasure had no value.

“Second Brother, try it out!” Shi Ming urged eagerly.

“What’s the point? Postnatal spirit treasures have limited uses—this one can only be used nine times, it’s too precious to waste,” Liu Dongyue replied, shaking his head.

“But I want to see it,” Yun Qianzhu pleaded, her wide eyes imploring.

Normally, Liu Dongyue would relent when she wheedled, but today he was resolute—the treasure was too rare to squander.

Li Hanzhou, too, wished he would at least test it, since the green glow still nagged at him, but he couldn’t pinpoint the problem.

Seeing Liu Dongyue’s reluctance, the others lost interest and went off to prepare dinner.

Liu Dongyue thanked Li Hanzhou and departed happily with the gourd.

Watching his disciples, their robes full of patches, Li Hanzhou let out a sigh. The original’s gambling had sold off nearly everything of value; soon the sect would be unable to afford rice.

Before considering how to return to Earth, he needed to figure out how not to starve.

Perhaps he should return to fortune-telling on the street tomorrow.

The next morning.

Liu Dongyue came to bid farewell.

“Uncle-Master, after I leave, I hope you’ll take good care of Junior Brothers and Sisters.” He hesitated, then added, “And try to gamble less.”

As a junior, it wasn’t his place to say so, but Liu Dongyue worried that Shi Ming and Yun Qianzhu would suffer under Li Hanzhou’s care, and couldn’t help but remind him.

“Don’t worry,” Li Hanzhou replied. He was no longer the same man as before and had no intention of gambling again.

“Then I’ll be off.”

“Wait—take this.” Li Hanzhou handed him a talisman.

Surprised, Liu Dongyue examined it. “A Vajra Talisman?”

“Traveling’s dangerous. I have nothing else to give you—this isn’t of much use, but consider it a protective charm.” Having some cinnabar left from crafting the spirit treasure, Li Hanzhou had drawn the talisman for Liu Dongyue’s safety.

The sect did practice talisman arts, but with his sixth-rank cultivation, Li Hanzhou’s talismans were elementary at best—more symbolic than effective.

Yet, as Liu Dongyue studied the talisman, he sensed it was unlike any he’d seen before. The brushstrokes were vigorous and mysterious, and there seemed to be a faint, steady force emanating from it, as if it contained the weight of a towering mountain, immovable and steadfast.

Was it merely an illusion?