Renegade Immortal Chapters 1-3: Wang Lin's Journey from Village Prodigy to Immortal Sect Test

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the dusty village road, painting the world in hues of amber and gold. On the roadside, a slender boy sat with a worn book open on his lap, but his eyes were fixed on the distant horizon where the road vanished into the wilderness. His name was Wang Lin, though everyone in the village knew him as Tie Zhu—'Iron Pillar'—a traditional nickname given by his father in the desperate hope that it would lend strength to his sickly infant son and help him survive. Now fifteen, Tie Zhu’s body remained slender, but his mind was sharp and endlessly curious. He was a prodigy in his small world, a boy who preferred the company of books to the toil of the fields, much to the pride of his parents.

He sighed, a soft sound lost in the rustle of leaves. The book was familiar, but his thoughts were far away, yearning for the world that existed beyond the familiar borders of his village. He closed the volume, stood up, and brushed the dust from his trousers, turning towards home with a heart full of restless dreams.

His father, Wang Tianshui, was waiting in the courtyard, the familiar pipe in his hand sending wisps of smoke into the still air. "Tie Zhu, how goes your studies?" he asked as his son passed through the gate.

Tie Zhu muttered a vague reply, but his father was not to be deterred. He tapped out the ash and rose, his expression earnest. "You must study properly. Next year is the district exam. Your future, whether you have one or not, hinges on that. Don't end up like me, spending a whole lifetime in a village."

Before Tie Zhu could respond, his mother emerged from the house carrying a simple meal. "Husband, you say this every day. Our Tie Zhu will definitely pass!" she chided affectionately, setting the dishes down. Her eyes, when they fell on her son, were pools of unwavering faith. She pushed the few precious pieces of meat on the plate toward him.

As they ate, Tie Zhu looked up. "Dad, is Fourth Uncle almost here?"

"Calculating the time, he should arrive within the next few days," his father replied, a complex shadow flickering across his face at the mention of his younger brother. "Your fourth uncle is more successful than your father. He did not forget us."

His mother nodded, her voice softening with emotion. "Tie Zhu, your fourth uncle is a good man. These past years, it's thanks to him that your father's wood carvings fetch a fair price. If you achieve success one day, you must remember to repay his kindness."

As if summoned by their words, the sound of hoofbeats and cart wheels clattered outside, followed by a hearty, familiar laugh. "Second Brother, open the door!"

Tie Zhu sprang up, his melancholy forgotten, and rushed to swing open the wooden gate. There stood a robust middle-aged man with bright, intelligent eyes—his Fourth Uncle. The man laughed, ruffling Tie Zhu's hair. "Tie Zhu! Half a year and you've grown taller again!"

The family reunion was warm and bustling. As they settled, Fourth Uncle watched Tie Zhu's eager face and winked. "I haven't forgotten my promise to you." He produced two new books from his pack, and Tie Zhu’s eyes lit up with pure joy as he took them, his fingers tracing the unfamiliar characters on the covers.

The pleasantries soon gave way to a more serious air. Fourth Uncle’s expression grew solemn. "Second Brother, Second Sister-in-Law, I have important news. The Heng Yue Sect is taking in disciples this year."

Wang Tianshui’s face went pale. "The Heng Yue Sect? The… the sect of immortals?"

"The very same," Fourth Uncle confirmed with a grave nod. "Our family has three recommendation slots. I received one. My own boy… his talents lie with swords, not books. I doubt the immortals would take him. This spot is precious. I know Tie Zhu has been clever since he was a child and loves to study. He might have a chance."

A stunned silence filled the room. Tie Zhu’s mother clasped her hands together, her eyes wide. "Fourth Brother, this… this is…"

"Immortals?" Tie Zhu whispered, confusion cutting through his excitement. "What are immortals?"

Fourth Uncle looked directly at him, his voice low and serious. "Immortals are beings who can fly through the skies, who command powers beyond our mortal understanding. They are not like us."

A spark of profound curiosity ignited in Tie Zhu’s chest. The world beyond the village suddenly had a name and a shape: it was the realm of immortals.

Overwhelmed, Wang Tianshui stood and, pulling his wife with him, bowed deeply to his younger brother. Fourth Uncle hurriedly pulled them up, his own eyes growing moist. "Second Brother, what is this? My mother died early. If not for your mother raising me as her own, I wouldn't be here today. Tie Zhu is my nephew. This is the least I can do."

Wang Tianshui, tears streaking his weathered face, gripped his brother's shoulder. He then turned to his son, his voice trembling with intensity. "Wang Lin, remember this! Never forget what your Fourth Uncle has done for our family, or I will not consider you my son!"

Tie Zhu’s heart shook. He did not fully understand, but the weight of the moment pressed upon him. He knelt before his Fourth Uncle and kowtowed three times, his forehead touching the cool earth. The promise was sealed.

That night, Tie Zhu lay in bed, listening to the muffled sounds of his father and uncle drinking and talking late into the night, his father’s laughter freer and louder than he had ever heard. Immortals. A chance to see the outside world. The two thoughts intertwined, becoming a single, burning purpose in his young mind.

The news, as all news did in a small village, spread like wildfire. Soon, every neighbor knew that Wang Tianshui’s sickly son, the bookish Tie Zhu, had a chance to become a disciple of the Heng Yue Sect. Overnight, the family’s standing transformed. Visitors streamed in with congratulations and gifts, their eyes now filled with envy and a new, calculating respect.

"Tie Zhu, you have great talent! When you become successful, don't forget to come back and visit us!"

His parents, especially his father, basked in this unaccustomed regard. They insisted on returning every gift in kind. "Our son will be an immortal in the future," Wang Tianshui declared. "He cannot owe any favors."

The culmination was a grand feast in the village square, funded by savings meant for a lean year. Relatives from the main Wang family, many of whom had once looked down on Wang Tianshui for being a concubine’s son and driving him from the family business, now arrived to offer their congratulations. Wang Tianshui stood at the village entrance with his wife and son, greeting each one, his back straighter than it had been in years.

He pointed out a white-haired elder. "This is your Third Grandfather. When I left the family, he secretly helped me. Remember to repay his kindness." Yet, once the old man was out of earshot, he snorted quietly to Tie Zhu. "That old man looked down on me and forced me out. Now he comes because of your future. That's the kind of relative he is."

The most significant arrival was that of Wang Tianshui’s eldest brother and his son, Wang Zhuo. The elder brother offered stiff congratulations, but it was the son who cast a pall over the moment. A handsome youth of sixteen or seventeen with sharp, disdainful eyes, Wang Zhuo stepped from the carriage and looked Tie Zhu up and down.

"That is not necessarily true," he interjected haughtily as his father spoke of the immortals' strict requirements. "I see this kid is very dumb. Going is a waste of time."

Wang Tianshui glared, and Tie Zhu met Wang Zhuo's gaze squarely, storing the insult away in silence.

The elder brother tried to chastise his son, but pride leaked into his voice. "But Lao Er, it is because the Heng Yue Sect was very interested in my son that our Wang family was given three spots, including his."

Wang Zhuo laughed, ignoring the reprimand. "The way of cultivation is complex. Only one in ten thousand can learn it. How can he compete with me? I was personally selected by an immortal teacher."

After they swept past, Wang Tianshui placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder. "Tie Zhu, don't worry. Even if you are not selected, it doesn't matter. There is always the district exam next year."

But Tie Zhu, his jaw set, whispered back with a newfound steel in his voice, "Dad, don't worry. I will be selected."

The feast was a whirlwind of noise and forced merriment. Late in the evening, as the guests departed, Wang Zhuo brushed past Tie Zhu and whispered, his voice dripping with contempt, "Little fool, you won't be selected. You don't have the ability."

Alone in his bed that night, Tie Zhu stared at the ceiling, the sounds of celebration replaced by the echo of that sneering voice. He made a silent vow to himself, a pact sealed in the dark: No matter what, I must be selected.

The awaited day arrived with the familiar sound of Fourth Uncle's carriage. The farewell was rushed and aching with unspoken emotion. His mother pressed a bundle into his arms—new clothes, baked sweet potatoes—her eyes brimming with tears. "If you are not selected, just come back home," she whispered, her voice breaking.

His father, looking older again, simply said, "Follow your Fourth Uncle. Study dutifully if you are chosen. If not, come back." The words were simple, but the hope in his eyes was a vast, heavy thing.

Fourth Uncle hurriedly pulled Tie Zhu onto the carriage. With a crack of the whip, they were off. Tie Zhu watched through the back of the cart as his parents, two small figures, grew smaller and smaller until the road curved and they vanished from sight. He clutched the bundle to his chest, feeling the weight of their hopes settle onto his slender shoulders.

The journey was long and bumpy. He slept fitfully, waking as the carriage finally halted at Fourth Uncle's townhouse. There was no time for rest. At dawn, they proceeded to the imposing main compound of the Wang family. The scale of the buildings left Tie Zhu momentarily dazed.

His uncle, Wang Tianshui’s eldest brother, was waiting in the central courtyard with Wang Zhuo and another boy. He addressed Tie Zhu with a stern, dismissive tone. "When the immortal arrives, don't freak out. Just follow your older brother Wang Zhuo. Do everything he does."

The other boy, dark-skinned and stout with clever eyes, grinned and bounded over. A strange bulge was visible under his shirt. "So you're Second Uncle's son? I'm Wang Hao!" He made a funny face, instantly breaking the tension.

Before Tie Zhu could reply, the very air changed. The clouds above seemed to part, and a streak of light, sharp as a sword, shot down from the sky, landing soundlessly in the courtyard. The light dissipated, revealing a youth dressed in pristine white robes. His eyes were cold and piercing, carrying an otherworldly elegance. An invisible pressure radiated from him, making the air feel thin.

"Are these three the ones recommended by the Wang family?" the immortal asked, his voice devoid of warmth.

This is an immortal? Wang Lin’s heart hammered against his ribs. A primal fear, mixed with awe, chilled him to the bone. Wang Zhuo, for all his earlier bravado, now stood stiffly, while Wang Hao’s hand drifted protectively to the bulge in his shirt, his expression one of fanatical reverence.

The immortal’s gaze swept over them, lingering on Wang Hao’s concealed item before fixing on Wang Zhuo. "Who is Wang Zhuo?"

The elder uncle practically shoved his son forward. "Immortal, this is my son!"

The white-robed youth examined Wang Zhuo and gave a slight, approving nod. "Wang Zhuo is indeed talented. No wonder Uncle-Master took a liking to him." Wang Zhuo’s pride instantly reinflated, and he shot a triumphant look at Wang Lin.

Without further ceremony, the immortal waved his sleeve. A rainbow-colored light enveloped the three boys, and their feet left the ground. Wang Lin felt himself tucked under the immortal's arm, and the world became a terrifying blur. The village, the town, everything shrank to specks far below as they soared through the sky. The wind screamed past, making his eyes water and sting.

"Unless you three want to become blind, close your eyes," the immortal commanded coldly. Wang Lin squeezed his eyes shut, his mind reeling from the terrifying, exhilarating sensation of flight.

After what felt like both an eternity and an instant, the descent began. They landed with a gentle bump on soft grass. Wang Lin opened his eyes, and his breath caught in his throat.

He stood in a paradise. Lush, vibrant mountains rose around them, their peaks shrouded in mystical clouds. A crystal-clear river snaked through a valley of exotic flowers. The air itself tasted sweet and energizing. Directly ahead, a majestic mountain towered above all others, a long, twisting staircase of stone steps carved into its side, leading up into the cloudy veil. From within those clouds emanated a soft, holy light, and the faint silhouette of a grand hall could be glimpsed. A crescent-moon bridge of shimmering silver connected this peak to another. This was no mortal place. This was the Heng Yue Sect.

"Little brother Zhang, are these the three candidates?" a new voice asked. A middle-aged man in black robes descended gracefully from the mountain, his demeanor calm and authoritative.

The white-robed youth, Brother Zhang, showed immediate respect. "Third Brother, they are."

The man in black, whom Wang Lin would later know as Immortal Hui Bing, nodded. "I will handle the test. You may go cultivate." As Brother Zhang vanished in a flash of light, Immortal Hui Bing turned his assessing gaze upon the three boys. Wang Hao, buzzing with excitement, nudged Wang Lin. "This is where the immortals live! No matter what, I, Wang Hao, must be selected!" he vowed, again touching the hidden object under his shirt.

They were not alone for long. More rainbows streaked across the sky, each depositing a Heng Yue Sect disciple and a group of wide-eyed, terrified teenagers. Soon, forty-eight youths stood gathered at the foot of the immortal mountain, their fates hanging in the balance.

Immortal Hui Bing surveyed them all, his face impassive. "Among the lot of you, only a few will be selected to be Heng Yue Sect disciples." A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Wang Lin’s heart sank like a stone. So many. The odds were already crushing.

"The first test measures the strength of your spirit. This is the foundation of cultivation," Hui Bing announced. He began pointing, one by one. Each chosen youth would walk forward, trembling, as the immortal placed a hand on their head.

"Not qualified. Stand to the left." "Not qualified." "Not qualified."

The words fell like hammer blows. Ten youths in a row were sent to the left side, their faces ashen with despair. The right side, the side of the chosen, remained empty.

Then, it was Wang Zhuo's turn. His earlier arrogance was gone, replaced by pallid fear. He stepped forward. Immortal Hui Bing’s hand rested on his head, and after a moment, the immortal’s expression brightened. "What is your name?"

"Wang Zhuo, Immortal Hui Bing!" Wang Zhuo replied, his voice tight with relief.

"Good. Wang Zhuo, stand to the right." Elation exploded across Wang Zhuo’s face. He strode to the right side, and as he passed the crowd, his eyes found Wang Lin. The contempt and arrogance returned, magnified tenfold by his success. He was untouchable.

"Mother f*cker, he is one lucky dog," Wang Hao muttered under his breath to Wang Lin, who could only nod, his throat dry, his fists clenched so tightly his nails bit into his palms. He saw his father’s hopeful eyes, his mother’s tearful smile. I must not fail.

The test continued. A young girl was surprisingly found qualified and joined Wang Zhuo on the right. Then, it was Wang Hao’s turn.

In a flash, Wang Hao was on his knees, kowtowing before the immortal had even beckoned him. "Immortal Hui Bing, may you enjoy a long life! You must be tired from testing so many! Please, rest! I'm in no rush!"

A rare chuckle escaped Immortal Hui Bing. He placed his hand on the boy's head. "Spirit is lacking, not—"

"Immortal!" Wang Hao interrupted frantically, pulling the jade box from his shirt. "My father found this in the mountains but couldn't open it. I brought it for you!"

The immortal’s dismissive smile froze. He took the box, his pupils contracting sharply. "A three-hundred-year-old spirit mushroom… sealed in a cultivator's jade…" He paused, a new thought forming. "I am in need of a helper for my pill concoction. Are you willing?"

Wang Hao’s head bobbed up and down vigorously. "Yes! I am willing!"

"Then you may cultivate alongside the disciples. Stand to the right." Wang Hao scrambled to his feet and joined the chosen, throwing a triumphant, almost defiant look at Wang Zhuo. The path to immortality, it seemed, had many gates.

Finally, Immortal Hui Bing’s finger pointed at Wang Lin.

A deafening silence roared in Wang Lin’s ears. He walked forward, his legs moving mechanically. His mind was a blank prayer. Please. For my parents. For myself. I will be selected.

The immortal’s hand, cool and impersonal, rested on his crown. A moment passed, feeling like a lifetime. Then, the two words he dreaded most fell from Immortal Hui Bing’s lips, flat and final.

"Not qualified."

The world seemed to lose its color and sound. Wang Lin didn't remember walking; he simply found himself standing on the left side, surrounded by the defeated. The two words—not qualified—echoed in his skull, drowning out everything else. He saw Wang Zhuo looking at him, the smirk on his face saying everything words could not: Little fool. I told you.

When the first test concluded, only three figures stood on the right: Wang Zhuo, the unknown girl, and Wang Hao. They were already worlds apart from the other forty-five.

Immortal Hui Bing addressed the despondent crowd. "While a strong spirit is needed, perseverance is even more important. Even ordinary individuals, with enough perseverance, can become a sect disciple. The second test is perseverance." He gestured to the endless stone staircase winding up into the clouds. "Follow the steps to the top. Reach it within three days, and you are qualified. If you cannot continue or meet danger, call out, and you will be retrieved. Those who fail will be sent home."

He then turned a kinder face to the three chosen ones. "You two, follow me to meet the patriarch. Wang Hao, come with me to the pill house." In a flash of light, they were gone, leaving the majority to their daunting climb.

Wang Lin stood at the base of the mountain, staring up at the staircase that seemed to ascend into heaven itself. The crushing disappointment of the first test was a cold stone in his gut, but it was not the end. His parents' eyes, filled not with pressure but with unconditional love, surfaced in his memory. The sneering face of Wang Zhuo flashed before him. The quiet determination that had always lived within him, the curiosity that made him stare at the distant road, now hardened into a single, unyielding resolve.

He took a deep breath of the immortal mountain air. He had come this far. He would not turn back. Without a word, he stepped forward and placed his foot on the first cold, rough-hewn stone step. Then the next. And the next. He did not look back at the other youths, some weeping, some determined, some already hesitating. His gaze was fixed upward, into the obscuring clouds where his future, however slim the chance, still waited to be claimed. The test of perseverance had begun, and Wang Lin, the frail village boy nicknamed Iron Pillar, began to climb.