When I Achieved Sainthood, the Immortal Official Actually Called Me to Raise Horses!

Xuan Tianyi strolled through the streets of Qiankun Sect, thinking about Tai Xuan Sect. Though he missed it, he had no desire to return.

He didn’t want to shoulder too much responsibility. What he wanted was to roam the world freely.

Even if Tai Xuan Sect held the extraordinary legacy left behind by the Sword Master of the Dao, he still didn’t want to go back.

To him, there was more to life than pursuing cultivation level alone.

If living longer was the only goal, then what was the point? That would be far too dull.

He enjoyed experiencing the mortal world, meeting all kinds of people, and writing about those encounters. If someone someday read his words and felt something—that would mean he hadn’t lived in vain.

Of course, the main reason he could leave Tai Xuan Sect so easily was because Gu An had left too. Even though Gu An was gone, the sword intent he left behind on the Heaven Mending Platform remained. That meant Gu An still had lingering feelings for Tai Xuan Sect.

As long as someone like Gu An was watching over the sect, Xuan Tianyi felt he had nothing to worry about.

“Hey, fellow Daoist—you look unfamiliar. First time here?”

A voice cut into his thoughts. Xuan Tianyi turned and saw a middle-aged cultivator walking toward him.

The man wore an elegant blue robe, his expression stern and his bearing impressive.

Xuan Tianyi stopped in his tracks. Once the man came closer, he replied, “I am Xuan Tianyi. Yes, this is indeed my first visit to Qiankun Sect. I heard there was a grand event, so I came to see it for myself.”

He had entered through proper channels, registered his identity, and even paid the spirit stones. He wasn’t worried about getting into trouble.

The middle-aged cultivator leaned in and said in a low voice, “I’ve got a few books that can help you better understand Qiankun Sect. Want to take a look?”

So he’s selling books…

Xuan Tianyi felt a bit disappointed. He couldn’t see through this man’s cultivation and had assumed he was a high-level cultivator. But now, it seemed the guy just had some secret treasure concealing his level. Probably not that strong after all.

“How much?” Xuan Tianyi asked.

Since he was new here, he didn’t want to stir up trouble. If the price wasn’t outrageous, he might as well do a good deed.

“One hundred top-grade spirit stones,” the man replied seriously.

“So expensive? Forget it.”

Xuan Tianyi shook his head flatly and stepped aside to leave.

But the man wouldn’t give up. He stepped in front of him again.

Now Xuan Tianyi was annoyed and about to lose his temper.

The man raised his hand and lightly rubbed his fingers together—seven books appeared. The titles immediately caught Xuan Tianyi’s eye.

Secret Histories of Qiankun, The Elder’s Plum Tower Travels, That Night, That Wind, That Feeling…

Just reading the titles, Xuan Tianyi could feel the writer’s overwhelming literary talent. He seemed to see a literary giant who could rival even himself.

“You won’t regret buying these!”

The man spoke in a solemn tone, like he was passing on a supreme technique.

“Can I take a quick look first?” Xuan Tianyi asked.

The man handed one over immediately.

Xuan Tianyi flipped it open to a random page, narrowed his eyes, and then—his mind was blown.

“I’ll take them! Do you have more?”

Xuan Tianyi looked up, voice firm and decisive.

“No more, but there will be. When the next ones are out, if you’re still here, I’ll come find you,” the man replied, shaking his head. From start to finish, his expression remained perfectly serious. No one could’ve imagined he was doing something like this.

His attitude earned Xuan Tianyi’s admiration. What kind of belief was that?

“May I ask your name, fellow Daoist?”

After the trade, Xuan Tianyi clasped his hands and bowed, his tone filled with genuine respect.

The middle-aged man returned the gesture of courtesy, then left behind a single sentence as he walked away: “I am Zhang Chunqiu.”

Zhang Chunqiu?

Xuan Tianyi memorized the name, deciding he would include it in his writings later.

After that, Xuan Tianyi lost all interest in wandering around. He quickly found an inn and checked in, ready to savor the treasures he had just acquired.

Elsewhere, the Qiankun Sect’s combat tournament had officially begun.

An Zizai arrived with An Xin to watch the show and received a warm welcome from the upper echelons of the Qiankun Sect. When they learned An Zizai was An Xin’s disciple, their gazes turned fervent.

Wushi had once sent Tian Hao to Qiankun Sect—a move that greatly elevated the sect’s prestige. The implications ran deep.

And An Xin wasn’t just anyone—she was Wushi’s chief disciple. For her to take on a disciple, this An Zizai was undoubtedly an extraordinary figure.

Still, they didn’t dare recruit him rashly. They focused on treating him well.

In one of the viewing pavilions, Yuan Luo sat quietly on a chair, gazing at the elder-filled pavilion in the distance. His eyes landed on An Zizai, and his brows subtly furrowed.

Naturally, he recognized An Xin and held great respect for her. In his youth, she had even gifted him a spell technique.

But seeing how the elders acted now left him somewhat irritated.

Qiankun Sect was fine in many ways, but it lacked confidence—it always relied on Wushi for help.

Wushi had indeed sent over twenty prodigies in the past, and some of them gave even him a headache. But they clung to each other and never truly integrated into the sect. Sometimes, he worried they might even betray them.

In Yuan Luo’s view, nothing in the world comes without a price. Why did Wushi help Qiankun Sect so much?

If someday Wushi wanted something in return, could Qiankun Sect refuse?

Always depending on others—how would they ever stand on their own?

That’s how the Dao Court ended up too. Too many factions, too many conflicts. They couldn’t truly rule the world. Sometimes one decision would lead to internal debates that dragged on for decades, even centuries. Not even the Lord of the Dao Court had absolute authority.

Yuan Luo etched An Zizai’s face into memory. An Zizai seemed to sense something and turned his head, looking right at him.

Their gazes clashed across the air. Yuan Luo quickly looked away.

An Zizai frowned slightly. Being stared at just now made him uncomfortable.

“That man is Yuan Luo. He was once Qiankun Sect’s number one prodigy—he’s powerful. I can have him teach you divine abilities,” said Yi Qingshan beside him with a cheerful tone.

Letting An Zizai sit next to the Sect Master was no small matter. Not just Yuan Luo—many disciples were whispering about An Zizai’s background.

An Zizai shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, Sect Master, but I have my master and martial uncles to teach me. No need to trouble you.”

These words struck Yi Qingshan and the other top elders hard.

So many of Wushi’s disciples were teaching him?

That meant Wushi was giving him special attention!

Their desire to recruit An Zizai grew even stronger.

They wouldn’t question Wushi’s decisions. They only felt that An Zizai’s future would be limitless, destined to shake the world one day.

Lü Xian, Chen Chuan, and An Shengtian had already become famous across the world. This youth might just surpass them all.

An Zizai felt uneasy under their gazes and had to look back toward the front, focusing on the ongoing duel.

…

In a dim and silent void, countless meteorites drifted through the space. In the distance, nebulae twisted into beautiful shapes.

Fang Xuan, dressed in red, strode forward atop his sword. His robe fluttered, exuding immortal grace.

His eyes were calm as he looked ahead, but his heart was filled with unease.

“I wonder how the others on the same path will see me?”

Fang Xuan had come to this stretch of void because he sensed the aura of a Hunyuan Dao Emperor here.

Of course, not a true Hunyuan Dao Emperor. The aura wasn’t as strong as his—but not far off.

He had studied the path of the Hunyuan Dao Emperor for many years and had now reached a bottleneck. He desperately wanted to discuss insights with someone else.