"You useless brat!"

"The village scholar even called you the smartest one, and this is all you’ve got?"

"You're not even as good as that fat pig from the Lu family!"

"Curse you!"

In Yiyang County, Qingfeng County, on the outskirts of Qingniu Town, a muddy path stretched out under the gray sky. Along it, an ox cart trudged slowly.

Sitting on the flatbed at the back of the cart were two people. One, a woman in her thirties dressed in fine silk and satin, and the other, a frail boy, no more than eight or nine years old.

The boy, Andrew Sullivan, shivered as the autumn wind cut through his thin, grimy clothes. He hugged himself tightly and curled up in the farthest corner of the cart, his face pale from the penetrating cold.

The woman, Ms. Lawson, continued her tirade of venomous words, her voice sharp and relentless.

"You’re nothing but bad luck! Do you know how much a thousand taels of silver means? And now it’s just gone, wasted. All thanks to you!"

Andrew sat silently, his small hands gripping the cart's edge. He had lost his father early on, and just this past spring, his mother had passed away too.

Before her death, Andrew’s mother had done two things: one, she entrusted him to Ms. Lawson, and the other—she pushed a peculiar card into his left arm. Another thing was he had been left to the mercy of the venomous woman before him.

This woman was none other than Andrew Sullivan's aunt—Ms. Lawson!

Today was the most special day of the year in Qingniu Town. Immortal cultivators descended from the heavens to help nine-year-old children awaken their spiritual roots.

If a child's spiritual roots were awakened, they could be taken away by these immortals to join their sect.

It had always been this way in Qingniu Town, year after year.

Moreover, any family whose child successfully awakened and joined a sect would receive one thousand silvers as compensation.

Andrew Sullivan, being exactly nine this year, was dragged here by his malicious aunt for the test. Ms. Lawson had already planned it out—once he awakened his spiritual roots and was chosen, she'd pocket the silvers with ease.

But things hadn’t gone as she hoped.

Andrew had indeed awakened his spiritual roots.

However, they turned out to be of all ten types: gold, wood, water, fire, earth, lightning, wind, ice, light, and dark—a jumbled mess of spiritual roots.

In other words, utterly useless.

The immortal testing him was stunned. Ten-type trash roots—a legendary disaster he'd only heard of in rumors. Though Andrew Sullivan had awakened his spiritual root, it was one of no value—a useless weed. Without some extraordinary stroke of fortune, no amount of effort could lift him to the first level of Qi Refining.

In the eyes of the immortal masters, Andrew was no different from an ordinary boy. He wasn't chosen.

Ms. Lawson's dream of earning the thousand-tael subsidy was crushed.

And thus began her curses and insults on the way back.

But Andrew paid her no mind. He kept his head low, curling his small frame at the back of the ox cart. Silent on the outside, his mind was already scheming. When they reached home, he'd wait for that venomous woman to leave, steal the family silver, and disappear forever.

It wasn't about morality; he didn’t feel a shred of guilt. Andrew knew his mother had entrusted Ms. Lawson with a hefty sum—a few thousand taels at the very least. How else would that vile woman afford her silks and jewels?

That money had always belonged to his mother. Taking it was his right.

The ox cart creaked as it rolled past a grove of barren trees, their branches clawing at the air like skeletal fingers. Autumn had stripped the forest of its lush green, leaving behind stark, twisted forms.

Andrew risked a glance ahead. Ms. Lawson, perhaps tired of shouting, had slumped over in sleep.

"Just past this woods, and it'll be Sullivan Village," he murmured to himself.“If she dares to sleep right away when we’re back home, I’ll steal the silver and leave immediately. No waiting for nightfall!”

Andrew Sullivan couldn’t stand living in that house for even a moment longer.

“Hold on...”

“Hey, you up ahead, wait a second!”

A clear, sharp voice suddenly cut through the sound of wheels crunching gravel.

Andrew turned his head. On the muddy road behind, a girl in a purple robe was racing toward them, her movements swift like a hawk diving for prey. With a few nimble leaps, she landed effortlessly beside the ox cart in no time.

“Whoa…” Ms. Lawson tightened the reins abruptly, halting the cart. Her flustered gaze landed on the girl, who couldn’t be more than fifteen or sixteen, with a sword hanging at her side. “Look, I’m not from some wealthy family—these clothes aren’t even mine. If you’re thinking of robbing us, forget it. I don’t have a coin to spare.”

The girl laughed lightly. “Ma’am, I’m not here to rob anyone.”

“I’m a cultivator from the Chen family—an immortal clan. I noticed this young boy has a spiritual root yet wasn’t chosen by the masters of Wolong Sect. So I came to ask if he could join our Chen clan instead.”

“What?” Ms. Lawson froze in disbelief. Andrew Sullivan's eyes glowed faintly with hope.

"Then... will you pay?" Ms. Lawson snapped back to reality and climbed down from the cart, glaring at the purple-clad woman.

The purple-robed woman froze. Pay?

This…

She had taken countless children into cultivation sects before. Every parent, upon hearing their child could join, would cheer as if they had struck gold, bowing and thanking her like she was their savior. But this woman? She wanted money?

"What money?" The purple-clad woman's face turned dark.

Ms. Lawson sneered, "The people at Wolong Sect give a thousand taels. If you won't pay, you can't take him!"

"Clank!" The woman flicked her hand, and a silver ingot landed heavily on the ground. "This is one hundred taels!"

"Not enough!" Ms. Lawson's greed surged as her eyes locked on the ingot. "One thousand taels, or he stays!"

The woman's gaze turned icy.

Her sword slipped half an inch from its sheath.

Only half an inch, but the cold, razor-sharp intent emanating from the exposed blade swept through the air. Ms. Lawson shivered uncontrollably and immediately dropped to the ground, begging for mercy."Let's go." The woman extended her hand, grabbing Andrew Sullivan's small hand firmly. Her feet barely seemed to exert any effort, yet with a few quick leaps, they were already a hundred paces away from the ox cart.

Andrew felt his mind spin. Was he... flying?

The sharp autumn wind lashed at his face. He shuddered violently.

"Cold?" The woman in the purple robe, her expression as cold as ice, glanced down at him.

Andrew hesitated, unsure how to respond. Asking for clothing just seemed... weak. Clenching his fists, he stiffened his resolve. "No, not cold!"

The woman chuckled lightly, her cold demeanor softening for an instant. She said no more.

Looking back, Andrew could barely spot the ox cart or that vile woman, Ms. Lawson. Both had already faded into the distant horizon.

Around him stretched endless hills of brown and lifeless vegetation, their bleakness amplified by the chill in the air. The desolation matched the heavy weight in his chest.

The woman moved faster, as though she was in a hurry, her pace growing almost reckless. The biting wind cut at Andrew like icy blades. Yet, even as his body grew numb and his teeth threatened to chatter, he gritted them together. Not a sound escaped him.