Pillborn Immortal

The morning sun cast a golden hue over the Azura Sky Sect, its rays piercing through the mist that clung to the mountain peak. Today was no ordinary day for Zhuan Ming—it was his first day as an inner disciple.

He stood at the edge of the Inner Sect Courtyard, his robes a deep azure, signifying his new status. The outer sect had been a place of struggle, but the inner sect was a different beast entirely. Here, talent was everything, and competition was fierce.

Each week, disciples attend one theory lesson and two combat lessons. Once a week, they are required to complete sect missions, earning contribution points that are exchanged for rewards. The disciple with the highest points at the end of the month receives additional benefits.

This version flows better, avoids passive phrasing, and feels more natural

"Who would have thought I'd get to experience what I once dreamed of?" Zhuan Ming thought inwardly. It was his first time being an inner disciple. Even though he had learned how to cultivate, he had never gotten the chance to become one, but now it meant absolutely nothing to him other than a cover up.

"Time to meet my fellow disciples," Zhuan Ming muttered to himself as he stepped into the designated training hall for inner disciples.

The hall was vast and open, its wooden floor polished to a fine sheen, reflecting the morning light streaming in through tall windows. Intricate carvings of mythical beasts adorned the pillars. At the front of the hall stood a raised platform where instructors would oversee lessons and sparring matches. Rows of disciples were already gathering, their azure robes marking them as inner sect members.

Zhuan Ming stepped into the training hall, his expression calm and unassuming. He scanned the room, taking in the faces of his fellow disciples. Some were chatting animatedly, others were meditating quietly, and a few were already practicing basic forms. The atmosphere was a mix of excitement and tension, as everyone here was eager to prove themselves. Zhuan Ming, however, had no intention of drawing attention. He had learned long ago that standing out too soon often led to unnecessary trouble.

He found a spot near the back of the hall, where he could observe without being noticed. As he settled in, a loud voice echoed through the room.

"Listen up, everyone!" A tall, broad-shouldered man with a commanding presence strode onto the raised platform. His robes were slightly more ornate than the others, marking him as a senior disciple or an instructor. "I am Senior Disciple Luo, and I'll be overseeing today's combat lesson. Before we begin, let's go over the basics. Form up!" Being a teacher when the sect was shorthanded was also one of the ways one could earn contribution points.

The disciples quickly arranged themselves into neat rows, facing the platform. Zhuan Ming followed suit, blending seamlessly into the group. Senior Disciple Luo began demonstrating a series of basic stances and strikes, his movements precise and powerful. The disciples mirrored his actions, their forms varying in skill and precision.

Zhuan Ming deliberately held back, his movements slightly slower and less polished than they could have been. He made sure to mimic the average level of the disciples around him, occasionally fumbling a stance or misjudging a strike. A few nearby disciples glanced at him, some with mild amusement, others with indifference. Perfect. He was just another face in the crowd.

"Good," Senior Disciple Luo said, his sharp eyes scanning the room. "Now, pair up and spar. Remember, the goal is to refine your techniques, not to injure each other."

The disciples quickly paired off, and Zhuan Ming found himself facing a young man with a nervous expression. The boy couldn't have been more than fourteen, a year younger than Zhuan Ming, his movements hesitant and unsure.

"Uh, hi," the boy stammered. "I'm Li Wei.

Zhuan Ming," he replied with a polite nod and a big smile. "Don't worry, we'll take it slow."

As they began sparring, Zhuan Ming deliberately matched Li Wei's pace, making sure not to overwhelm him. He used only the most basic techniques, occasionally allowing Li Wei to land a hit or two. The boy's confidence grew as the session progressed, and by the end.

"Thanks, Zhuan Ming," Li Wei said, wiping sweat from his brow.

"You are not that far off from me," Zhuan Ming replied with the same fake smile. "You'll soon catch up."

As the combat lesson wrapped up, the disciples gathered for the theory lesson. The instructor, a scholarly-looking man with thin-rimmed glasses, began lecturing on the principles of spiritual energy circulation. Zhuan Ming listened attentively, though the material was elementary to him. He made sure to nod occasionally and take notes, playing the part of an eager but average student.

When the lesson ended, the disciples dispersed, some heading to the library, others to the dining hall. Zhuan Ming lingered for a moment, observing the interactions around him. He noticed a group of disciples gathered around a tall, confident-looking young man who seemed to be the center of attention. From the snippets of conversation, Zhuan Ming gathered that the young man was named Chen Hao, a rising star in the inner sect.

"Chen Hao's already mastered the Azure Sky Sword Art."

The Azure Sky Sect was built upon the way of the sword, and its most prized resource was the Sword Pond—a sacred training ground hidden deep within a secluded cave.

This cave was no ordinary cavern—it was infused with lingering sword intent from generations of masters who had trained there. The walls bore countless etchings of sword marks, each containing traces of their sword arts, and the very air shimmered with an invisible sharpness that cut the skin of most beginner cultivators.

At the heart of the cave lay the Sword Pond itself—a pool of crystal-clear water infused with sword essence, capable of sharpening one's understanding of the sword path. Cultivators who entered the water would find their bodies assaulted by formless sword energy, refining their physique and engraving sword path marks onto their Nirvana roots. These marks enhanced a cultivator's power. Normally, a cultivator had to accumulate energy from a specific path within their body to engrave such marks, but the Sword Pond accelerated this process, directly imprinting them through sheer sword intent.

Only disciples who reached Rank Two were eligible to enter this sacred ground, but merely qualifying did not guarantee success—they enter an evaluation period where their academic performance is the key factor, though some students just get away with having high status because of their family.

Zhuan Ming's lips twitched in amusement as he maintained the facade of an average disciple, his gaze lingering on Chen Hao with feigned envy and amazement. But in truth, he felt nothing.

So what if Chen Hao was more talented than most in the sect? The world was full of such individuals. Yet, sooner or later, they all came to realize a harsh truth—there was always someone stronger, more talented, or more intelligent. That was just the way of the world.

For now, Zhuan Ming would stay in the shadows, quietly gathering strength and biding his time.

Just as Zhuan Ming was finishing his meal and lost in thought, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned around, his expression carefully neutral, only to find himself face-to-face with Li Qingyu—the girl who had once caught him stealing sect resources but chose not to report him. She was also the same girl he had encountered in the market, and now here she was, standing in front of him with a curious smile.

"This bitch again", Zhuan Ming thought, his eyelids twitching imperceptibly. He could already feel the weight of curious gazes from other disciples as they noticed Li Qingyu approaching him. She was, after all, the second-ranked disciple in the sect, a rising star with a reputation that drew attention wherever she went. Zhuan Ming's mind raced. The last thing he needed was to be associated with someone so prominent—it would only bring unwanted scrutiny.

Acting quickly, he decided to play the part of a flustered, inexperienced disciple who had been approached by the popular girl. His face flushed slightly, and he stammered, "O-oh, uh, hi, Senior Sister Li! I, uh, I just remembered I have something to do—sorry!" Without waiting for her response, he awkwardly bowed and hurried away, weaving through the tables and disappearing out of the dining hall.

Li Qingyu stood there, momentarily stunned. She hadn't expected such a reaction. Her lips parted as if to call after him, but he was already gone. Around her, a small crowd began to form, disciples whispering and casting curious glances her way.

"Senior Sister Li, what was that about?" one disciple asked, clearly intrigued.

"Nothing," she replied, her tone light but her eyes lingering on the door Zhuan Ming had just exited through. "I mistook him for somebody else."

Meanwhile, Zhuan Ming had already slipped into a quieter part of the sect grounds, his mind working furiously. "Damn it, why do I keep running into her? Does she have some kind of thing for me? he thought,slightly irritated. Sure, this body has a decent face, but that's hardly a reason for her to keep showing up. Unless... she's suspicious of me?"

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Li Qingyu hadn't exposed him before, so it was unlikely she had ulterior motives now. Still, her presence was a complication he didn't need. As he walked, he recalled seeing her name near the top of the contribution board earlier that day. She was second only to Chen Hao, the current top-ranked disciple. Her status meant she was constantly in the spotlight, and anyone associated with her would inevitably be dragged into it.

"Unwanted attention is the last thing I need right now," Zhuan Ming mused, his steps slowing as he reached a secluded courtyard. "I'm here to lay low, gather resources, and grow stronger—not to get caught up in sect politics or popularity contests."

He leaned against a stone railing, gazing out at the sprawling sect grounds below. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the mountains. Despite the beauty of the scene, Zhuan Ming's mind was elsewhere. He needed a plan to avoid further encounters with Li Qingyu while still maintaining his cover as an average inner disciple.

"How can I do this?" he was deep in thought. "Something that will keep her away from me but also would't couse problem for me....."

As he turned to leave, a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Well, at least this little incident gave me an idea of how to play my role better. I'm just a shy, awkward disciple who can't handle attention from women. Perfect."

With that, Zhuan Ming straightened his robes and made his way home, his duties for the day complete, with only one more lesson remaining this week. Once again, he was calm and unassuming. The inner sect was a stage, and for now, he would remain in the background—until the time was right to step into the spotlight.