Chapter Two: Borrowing Seed! To Give or Not to Give?

Based on the experience from reading cultivation novels in his previous life, Mo Bufan knew that so-called immortals were not as amiable as legends suggested. Their competition and scheming surpassed even that of mere mortals. If he truly was some miraculous treasure capable of producing treasures, why wouldn’t they just quietly claim him for themselves? Why cause such a commotion that all of Dongtu Divine Continent was thrown into turmoil and focused on him? Wouldn’t that just expose his extraordinary identity? He could never believe there wasn’t something more to this.

But at this point, disbelief was useless—he was already in their grasp. Besides, he didn’t possess such stubborn pride. When a blue-robed disciple called his name countless times and his future bride’s hand grew weary from holding it aloft, Mo Bufan finally clasped her hand. One must bow their head beneath another’s eaves!

Soft, delicate, comfortable—the feeling was quite pleasant! It was a pity her face was veiled, so he couldn’t make out her features.

Then came a voice, “Let’s go, everyone’s waiting.” It was a pleasant enough voice, though a bit cold.

A protective aura enveloped him, and then—whoosh—he was flying!

“Aaahhh—!” Mo Bufan let out a shrill scream.

The members of Tianxuan Sect blushed in embarrassment.

The main hall of Celestial Maiden Peak was packed, with delegates from the other three major sects of Dongtu Divine Continent in attendance—renowned elders and core disciples of every sect. Whenever the four great sects gathered, there was always overt and covert rivalry; no one wished to lose face, so only the strongest attended.

Yet this time, Tianxuan Sect had thoroughly embarrassed itself: the vice sect master was marrying a useless man at the third level of the Comprehending Dao Realm—a shameful fool who liked to shriek.

The Tianxuan Sect disciples all flushed red, but seeing their elders’ indifferent expressions, none dared speak out. Their faces reddened, then they forced smiles and offered congratulations to the vice sect master on her wedding.

Still shaken, Chen Feng opened his eyes to find himself in a grand hall dozens of meters wide and tall, surrounded by the highest-level cultivators—the very true immortals he remembered from his predecessor’s memories. He was momentarily stunned.

But his bride, the vice sect master of Tianxuan Sect, didn’t give him time to be dazed. In a low voice, she said, “The wedding is starting. Mind your expression; you’re my husband now, your status is no lower than theirs.”

The voice didn’t enter his ears but echoed directly in his mind. In a daze, Mo Bufan could only nod foolishly.

He felt just like Granny Liu entering the Grand View Garden for the first time: faced with a house full of true immortals and earth immortals, he had the urge to greet them warmly and hand out name cards, remembering the deep impressions they’d left on his predecessor.

The wedding began.

At that moment, his bride cast a sealing spell, and Mo Bufan suddenly found himself unable to speak. Like a puppet on strings, he was led through the ceremony.

“This is utterly disrespectful—even if you’re just borrowing my seed, I’m still your husband! How could you treat me like this?” Mo Bufan felt his self-esteem wounded.

The wedding of immortals was so simple it nearly moved Mo Bufan to tears. First, they paid homage to the Heavenly Dao, then to the founder of Tianxuan Sect. His veiled bride spoke on behalf of them both, thanking the guests and family for attending, then came more bows, and finally, the couple paid respect together before Chen Feng was sent off to the bridal chamber like a new bride.

Tragically, his bride did not join him—she remained to entertain the guests.

He’d had no part in the entire process, and his poor self-esteem suffered another blow.

Just before entering the bridal chamber, he glimpsed a familiar face—his host’s father.

The old man had now been specially brought over and treated as an honored guest by Tianxuan Sect. When he saw his son, he waved with tears streaming down his face—a picture of weeping joy.

But after waving, he quickly wiped his tears and started chatting cheerfully with the other true immortals and earth immortals.

“He really is my old man...” Mo Bufan felt like crying.

At last, two blue-robed earth immortals led him into the bridal chamber. One, a handsome man with long hair, said, “Son-in-law, please rest here for a while. I’ll have someone bring food soon. When the little master finishes up front, she’ll return.”

The long-haired man was polite and dignified, and Mo Bufan found it pleasant. But since he still couldn’t speak, he only nodded and smiled in gratitude.

The two disciples left, and Mo Bufan was left alone to guard the empty chamber.

He felt like a resentful wife, his self-esteem battered yet again!

Fortunately, he was mentally resilient. He only brooded for a moment before turning to more practical concerns—his situation was precarious.

But with the cockroach-like adaptability honed by years of wandering, he quickly calmed himself and began to analyze his current predicament.

From what the body’s previous owner knew, this was a world of rampant immortals and demons, with myriad races vying for dominance. The host’s region was Dongtu Divine Continent, a human-majority land. There were four main cultivation sects here: Tianxuan Sect on Tianmu Mountain, Kaiyuan Sect on Kunwu Mountain, Lingyun Pavilion at Lingyun Cave, and Heavenly Sword Manor at Fujiwara Lake.

Each sect boasted a history of tens of thousands of years, their powers evenly matched, and peace had reigned among them for ages. Thus the Dongtu Divine Continent’s cultivation world was the most tranquil in existence.

As for the mundane realm, it was far more chaotic. Dongtu Divine Continent spanned billions of kilometers, with hundreds if not thousands of mortal nations; wars broke out daily. But cultivators rarely interfered in mundane affairs unless disaster struck on a truly massive scale, since too much entanglement with worldly matters could hinder their own cultivation—a loss outweighing any gain. Of course, a few high-level cultivators did intervene for the sake of gathering faith, but they were a minority.

Beyond Dongtu Divine Continent, his knowledge grew hazy—he was too weak to know more. He’d only heard of the Endless Seas ruled by the Four Dragon Clans, the even larger and more powerful Central Continent where myriad races battled for supremacy, as well as the Northern Icefields, Western Vast Sea, and the Southern Wilderness—places rumored to be anything but peaceful.

As for Tianxuan Sect, he knew less than Mo Bufan did at this moment. At least Mo Bufan knew the sect had fifteen elders and had seen the elders from the other three sects, whereas the previous host only knew there were true immortals and even celestial immortals in Tianxuan Sect, and yearned for that world, knowing little else.

Cultivators’ realms fell into six broad levels. Below immortals were three: Comprehending Dao Realm, Refining the Void Realm, and Shedding the Mortal Realm.

Comprehending Dao, called the Divine Realm by mortals, was when a person comprehended the world’s vital energy, learning to breathe and channel it, thus forming their own unique resonance with the universe.

Refining the Void, or Saint Realm, was when a person transcended the mundane, forming a domain of spiritual consciousness, able to manipulate objects with a thought and refine their soul—marking their true separation from mortals. At this stage, even if the body died, the soul could persist as a spirit and continue cultivating.

Shedding the Mortal was the final separation from the mortal shell; most major spells used by immortals could be wielded at this level—summoning rain, killing with a flying sword from ten thousand miles away, and so on. Most importantly, lifespan at this realm could reach a thousand years. This stage was also known as Half-Immortal.

Thinking of this name, Mo Bufan couldn’t help but picture a fortune-teller from his previous life. He really didn’t want to enter this realm just for the name alone.

Above the Half-Immortal level were the Three Realms of Immortality: Earth Immortal, True Immortal, and Celestial Immortal.

Mo Bufan knew nothing about these three realms.

His wife, however, was at the True Immortal level, while he was just at the third tier of Comprehending Dao—a gulf as wide as heaven and earth!

Having pieced together a rough outline of this world and his place in it, Mo Bufan’s brows only furrowed more deeply.

A true immortal marrying a useless man at the Comprehending Dao level—even if just to borrow his seed—was hard to believe. Weren’t those of high status supposed to care about their reputation? This sort of arrangement was... rather shameless.

Then again, now that he’d arrived in a world teeming with immortals and demons, he genuinely wanted to see the legendary gods and devils. But fate had made him a useless man—a useless man about to be used for breeding, who could be taken advantage of at any moment.

What a bizarre golden finger this was!

At least for now, he had value—his children were rumored to have a chance of becoming the next Immortal Emperor. Whether true or not, it was his biggest bargaining chip.

His greatest worry, though, was how long that leverage would last. If it was only needed for the first child, he’d be discarded like an old shoe after that.

If every child counted, it would be even worse—he might be squeezed dry.

“So, to save my life, I mustn’t have a single child! Even if it kills me, I won’t do it!” he resolved fiercely.

But then, recalling the principles of genetics, he thought, surely it wouldn’t only be the first child that mattered.

“This world is nothing like the last, though; I can’t assume anything,” Mo Bufan muttered. “Whatever, from now on, I’ll keep my distance from every female creature! Yes, a man must learn to protect himself when venturing outside.”

Sitting on the grand red wedding bed, waiting like a new bride with no sign of activity outside, Mo Bufan finally sprawled out. Soon, his mind began to fret again: “What if they have other ways to take my seed anyway? They’re all immortals, after all.”

“That won’t do—what a loss that would be!” Jumping up, he rummaged through the room until he found a pair of scissors, which he tucked into his robe.

“Damn it, try to force me and I’ll castrate myself!” His internal drama escalated. “Er, if she really is as beautiful as a goddess... then I’ll just threaten. But if she isn’t... it’s better to just end it, I’ve died once already.”

After this whole theater played out in his mind, he shamelessly nibbled on some snacks from the table and repeatedly checked the door for his bride’s return. But he only ever saw two respectful blue-robed disciples standing guard; he could only smile bitterly and go back to waiting.

As dusk finally settled, he heard the two disciples outside announce respectfully, “Young Sect Master.”

Mo Bufan scrambled back onto the wedding bed, trying to appear calm as he gripped the scissors in grim determination.

Then, the door to the bridal chamber was gently pushed open. A slender woman in brilliant red wedding robes entered the room.

This time, she wore no veil, nor did she conceal her face with magic. Her elegant, peerless features struck Mo Bufan’s senses like a bolt of lightning.

He, who had just played out a hundred tragic scenarios in his mind and was ready to castrate himself at a moment’s notice, was utterly stunned.

“My goodness, so there really are goddesses in this world...” Mo Bufan sighed in awe.