**Chapter 1: The Coward's Dao and the Eternal Bloodline Tree**
Death is not a fleeting moment; it is a suffocating, terrifying descent into absolute nothingness.
Lu Changsheng knew this better than anyone. In his previous life, he had not died in a blaze of glory, nor had he sacrificed himself to save a loved one in a cinematic display of heroism. He had died slowly, painfully, and pathetically in a sterile white hospital room, his body withering away from a terminal illness that stripped him of his dignity long before it took his breath. He remembered the incessant, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor slowing down. He remembered the sheer, unadulterated panic that clawed at his throat as his lungs refused to draw in air. He remembered the desperate, silent screams echoing in his mind: *I don't want to die. Please, I don't want to die. I will do anything to live. Anything.*
And then, the agonizing plunge into the dark abyss.
With a sharp, ragged gasp that sounded like a drowning man breaking the surface of the water, Lu Changsheng bolted upright. His hands, trembling violently, shot to his throat, feeling the rapid, rhythmic pulsing of a strong heartbeat beneath clammy skin. He was breathing. The air was stale, laced with the pungent scent of cheap sandalwood incense and the damp, earthy smell of rotting wood, but it was air. He sucked it into his lungs greedily, his eyes wide and unseeing in the gloom, tears of sheer relief streaming down his face.
He was alive.
Before the euphoria of survival could fully settle in his mind, a sharp, piercing pain lanced through his temples, as if a rusted iron spike had been driven directly into his skull. Lu Changsheng groaned, clutching his head as a torrent of unfamiliar memories cascaded into his consciousness, forcefully merging with his own. The sheer volume of information threatened to tear his mind apart, but he gritted his teeth, terrified that if he passed out, he might never wake up again.
When the agonizing torrent finally subsided, leaving him panting and soaked in a cold sweat on a hard wooden bed, Lu Changsheng understood his situation.
He had crossed over. He had reincarnated.
He was no longer the dying, bedridden patient from Earth. He was now Lu Changsheng, a twenty-year-old loose cultivator scraping the bottom of the barrel in the treacherous, unforgiving world of immortal cultivation. Specifically, he resided in the outer slums of the Qinghe Spiritual Market, a small, insignificant trading hub controlled by the Azure Mountain Sect.
The original owner of this body shared his name, but unfortunately, possessed none of the talent usually associated with protagonists in the novels Lu Changsheng used to read. The original Lu Changsheng possessed a wretched, low-grade Five-Element Spiritual Root—the absolute worst talent for cultivation. To the grand sects and noble cultivation families, a Five-Element Spiritual Root was synonymous with mortal trash, entirely unworthy of nurturing.
For ten years, the original host had struggled bitterly. He had worked odd jobs in the market, tending to spiritual herb fields, cleaning beast pens, and risking his life hunting low-level demon beasts in the peripheral zones of the dangerous Bloodwood Forest. All this backbreaking, life-threatening labor was for the sake of earning a few meager spirit stones. And what did he have to show for a decade of blood, sweat, and tears?
The second level of the Qi Condensation Realm.
It was a pitiful cultivation base. In the Qinghe Market, Qi Condensation Level 2 cultivators were as common as stray dogs, and their lives were valued just as little. Driven by desperation and the impending bottleneck of his limited lifespan, the original host had purchased a flawed, low-quality Spirit Gathering Pill from a shady vendor in the black market. He had attempted to forcefully break through to the third level of Qi Condensation. The result was as predictable as it was tragic: the impure spiritual energy had violently violently rebelled within his meridians, leading to severe Qi deviation. His meridians had ruptured, his internal organs had been shredded by the chaotic energy, and he had died a miserable, solitary death on this very bed, paving the way for the soul from Earth to take over.
Sitting on the edge of the hard wooden bed, Lu Changsheng surveyed his surroundings. He was in a dilapidated, ten-foot-square wooden shack. The roof leaked, the floorboards were warped, and the only furniture consisted of the bed he sat on and a rickety wooden table holding a cracked teapot. This was the harsh reality of a low-level loose cultivator.
As the memories of the cultivation world fully integrated, the initial relief of being alive was swiftly replaced by a cold, paralyzing terror.
This world was a meat grinder.
The novels on Earth had painted immortal cultivation as a glorious, romantic journey of defying the heavens, soaring on flying swords, and seeking the great Dao. But the memories of the original host painted a drastically different, horrifyingly grim picture. The cultivation world was a dark forest governed by the absolute law of the jungle. The weak were prey to the strong, without exception. Murder for treasures, backstabbing for fortuitous encounters, and slaughtering entire families to eliminate future troubles were everyday occurrences.
A loose cultivator like him, without a sect, without a powerful master, and without a prominent family background, was the lowest rung on the food chain. If he walked out of the Qinghe Market, there was a high probability he would be ambushed by demonic cultivators who used human blood to refine artifacts, or simply murdered by fellow loose cultivators for the few broken spirit stones in his pouch. Even within the supposedly 'safe' boundaries of the market, extortion by the sect guards and brutal beatings by local gangs were common.
"No... no, no, no," Lu Changsheng muttered, his voice trembling as he hugged his knees to his chest. His extreme, pathological fear of death flared up, wrapping around his heart like an icy vise. "I can't go out there. I won't. I just got my life back. I refuse to throw it away fighting for some mythical 'Heavenly Mandate' or a magical herb. If going outside means risking death, I will rot in this shack before I step foot in the Bloodwood Forest."
He was terrified. He was a coward, and he was not ashamed to admit it. Honor, face, dignity, the pursuit of the peak of martial prowess—all of these concepts were utter dog shit compared to the simple, profound joy of breathing. He wanted to live. He wanted to live forever, away from the pain, the sickness, and the terrifying void of death.
But how? In this world, mortality was a given unless one cultivated to higher realms. A Qi Condensation cultivator like him would live to be a hundred, maybe a hundred and twenty at best. Foundation Establishment cultivators could live for over two centuries, Core Formation ancestors could live for five hundred years, and Nascent Soul eccentrics could see a millennium. To achieve true immortality, one had to fight, to bleed, to compete for the scarce resources of heaven and earth.
It was a paradox. To live forever, he had to risk dying constantly.
"There has to be another way," he whispered into the silent, dim shack, his fingernails digging into his palms. "I need to hide. I need to be cautious. I need to remain completely low-key. But without resources, my cultivation will stagnate, and time will eventually kill me anyway."
Just as despair began to settle heavily over his shoulders, a sudden, blinding golden light erupted within his mind.
Lu Changsheng gasped, closing his eyes tightly, but the light was not physical; it emanated from his very soul, deep within his Sea of Consciousness. The chaotic spiritual energy remnants from the original host's Qi deviation were instantly pacified, smoothed out by an ancient, majestic aura that felt older than the world itself.
In the center of his mind's eye, a seed appeared. It was a brilliant, translucent gold, pulsing with the rhythm of his own heartbeat. As he watched in awe, the seed sprouted. Ethereal roots shot downward, anchoring themselves permanently into the very foundation of his soul. A trunk grew upward, branching out into a magnificent, glowing tree adorned with countless empty nodes that looked like unbloomed buds.
An influx of information flowed directly into his mind, devoid of any voice, simply existing as absolute truth.
*The Eternal Bloodline Tree.*
Lu Changsheng held his breath as he absorbed the profound, heaven-defying rules of the golden finger that had accompanied his soul across the void.
**Rule One: The Root of Immortality.** As the host of the Eternal Bloodline Tree, Lu Changsheng's life force was no longer bound by his cultivation realm or the natural laws of heaven and earth. As long as his bloodline—his direct descendants—continued to exist in this world, his lifespan would be completely limitless. He would not die of old age. Time could not erode his physical body. If even a single great-great-great-grandchild lived, Lu Changsheng would live.
**Rule Two: The Branches of Feedback.** The tree connected him to his bloodline. For every descendant he produced, and for every subsequent generation born from them, a bud on the tree would bloom. The ultimate cheat lay here: Lu Changsheng would receive a one-to-one (1/1) permanent feedback of any and all cultivation progress, spiritual root improvements, mastered techniques, comprehended Daos, and acquired skills from *every single descendant*.
If his son practiced a basic fireball spell to the 'Perfection' stage, Lu Changsheng would instantly gain the 'Perfection' stage of that fireball spell, without lifting a finger. If his granddaughter miraculously broke through to the Foundation Establishment Realm, the pure cultivation base required for that realm would instantly be transmitted to Lu Changsheng, stacking upon his own. If a descendant ten generations down the line acquired a Heavenly Spiritual Root, Lu Changsheng's own trash Five-Element root would be upgraded.
The implications struck Lu Changsheng with the force of a physical blow. His jaw dropped, and he sat frozen on the bed for a full ten minutes, his mind working furiously as he calculated the math of this heaven-defying cheat.
"I... I don't need to cultivate," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and soaring, unadulterated ecstasy. "I don't need to fight for fortuitous encounters. I don't need to venture into ancient tombs filled with lethal traps. I don't need to compete with arrogant young masters or ruthless demonic cultivators."
He threw his head back and let out a breathless, borderline manic laugh. The sheer absurdity of his path to immortality was beautiful.
"The entire cultivation world fights over a single scrap of spiritual resource, bleeding and dying in the mud. Meanwhile, my grand path to the apex of the universe... is to have children. To start a family."
It was the ultimate synergy with his extreme cowardice. He could hide. He could stay in the safest, most mundane, most boring corners of the world. He could establish a hidden, low-key family. He wouldn't lift a sword, he wouldn't cast an offensive spell, he wouldn't provoke a single soul. He would just marry, have children, let his children have children, and passively reap the rewards as his family branched out and expanded like a plague across the cultivation world.
If he had ten children, and they each had ten children, and they each had ten children... within a few centuries, his bloodline could number in the tens of thousands, perhaps millions. Even if 99% of them were mortal trash who never cultivated past Qi Condensation Level 1, the sheer accumulated feedback of millions of low-level cultivation bases would instantly push him to the realms of Core Formation, Nascent Soul, or even Immortal Ascension!
"Calm down. I need to be calm," Lu Changsheng muttered, slapping his own cheeks lightly to center himself. The fear of death had receded, replaced by a cold, calculating pragmatism.
Having this cheat did not mean he was invincible right now. He was still a weak Qi Condensation Level 2 cultivator. If someone walked into his shack right now and stabbed him in the heart, he would die, because the tree only granted infinite *lifespan*, not invulnerability to physical murder. Furthermore, if he died before he had any children, the tree would be useless.
A profound, chilling ruthlessness settled in his eyes. It was not the aggressive ruthlessness of a murderer, but the absolute, uncompromising ruthlessness of a survivor.
"My family, my descendants... they are my foundation, my path to immortality, my life itself," he rationalized coldly. "I will protect them from the shadows. I will provide for them. But I will remain hidden behind the scenes. I will never reveal my true strength, nor the existence of the tree. To the outside world, I will be a cowardly, unambitious, talentless loose cultivator who only cares about earthly pleasures."
He formulated his core philosophy, the DAO he would follow for the rest of eternity: The Dao of Supreme Caution (Gou).
1. **Never stand out.** Always appear slightly weaker than the average person.
2. **Never hold grudges openly.** If someone offends him, he will smile and apologize. Then, if they pose a threat to his life or his family (his bloodline), he will wait until he is absolutely, one hundred percent certain he can annihilate them and their entire faction silently, without leaving a single trace or clue. If he isn't certain, he will wait a hundred years until his descendants power him up enough to do it.
3. **Run first, ask questions later.** If danger approaches within ten miles, pack up and relocate. The world is vast; there is no need to defend a piece of land.
With his mindset solidified, Lu Changsheng immediately got to work. He didn't have time to waste. His first order of business was obvious: he needed to get married and start producing descendants immediately to trigger the immortality clause of the Bloodline Tree.
He stood up and began searching the cramped shack. He pulled up a loose floorboard beneath the bed, retrieving a small, grimy cloth pouch. Inside were his life savings: exactly fifteen low-grade spirit stones and a few dozen mortal silver taels. For ten years of labor, this was pathetic. A single decent artifact cost hundreds of spirit stones.
But for his current plan, it was enough.
He wasn't going to try and court a high-level fairy or a haughty female cultivator. That would attract attention, provoke jealousy, and likely result in him being squashed by some arrogant senior brother. Furthermore, female cultivators focused entirely on the Dao; they rarely wanted to waste time bearing children, viewing it as a detriment to their cultivation progress.
No, his target demographic was entirely different. He needed women who were willing to marry a poor cultivator, who desired stability, and who were expected to bear children. He needed to look toward the mortals.
In the cultivation world, mortals were considered little more than ants, but they existed in massive numbers. Around every spiritual market and sect, massive mortal cities and towns sprung up, relying on the leftover spiritual energy and the protection of the cultivators. Mortals worshipped cultivators as immortals. For a mortal woman, marrying even the lowest, most talentless loose cultivator was a massive step up in social status and security.
Lu Changsheng washed his face with stale water, smoothed out his worn, gray Taoist robe, and stepped out of his shack for the first time since his reincarnation.
The Qinghe Market was built within a massive valley. As he stepped outside, the sheer scale of the place hit him. The outer slums, where he lived, were a sprawling shantytown of wooden shacks and narrow, muddy alleys, packed tightly against the towering stone walls that separated the poor from the inner market. The air was thick with the smell of unwashed bodies, roasting spiritual beast meat, and the metallic tang of blood from freshly hunted game.
Cultivators of all shapes and sizes hurried past him. Some carried massive broadswords, their eyes darting around with paranoid intensity; others were draped in dark cloaks, hiding their features. Lu Changsheng kept his head down, his posture slightly stooped, radiating an aura of absolute harmlessness and insignificance. He made sure to step out of the way of anyone who looked even remotely aggressive.
He navigated through the labyrinthine alleys until he reached the eastern edge of the market, where a massive iron gate led out to the attached mortal settlement: Qinghe Town.
The atmosphere here was distinctly different. The spiritual energy was practically nonexistent, but the streets were cleaner, paved with cobblestones, and lined with bustling shops selling mortal goods—silks, grains, iron tools, and livestock.
Lu Changsheng walked with purpose toward a specific courtyard adorned with red lanterns and bright pink silk ribbons. This was the residence of Matchmaker Liu, the most prominent marriage broker bridging the gap between the low-level cultivators of the market and the mortal populace of the town.
He knocked gently on the wooden door.
A moment later, it was opened by a plump woman in her forties, wearing a garish red dress, her face powdered heavily and a large mole near her mouth. This was Matchmaker Liu. She was a mortal, but she dealt with cultivators daily, so she showed no fear, only a practiced, calculating smile.
"Ah, Immortal Master! Welcome, welcome! Please, come inside," she greeted, her voice a shrill, welcoming chirp. She quickly evaluated his worn robes and the lack of a spiritual weapon, accurately placing him at the bottom of the cultivator hierarchy. Still, a cultivator was a cultivator; they paid in spirit stones, not silver.
Lu Changsheng stepped into the courtyard, which smelled strongly of jasmine tea and sweet cakes. He was led into a cozy parlor and offered a seat.
"I am Lu Changsheng," he introduced himself politely, keeping his tone mild and respectful. He did not put on airs. "I reside in the outer market. I am looking to start a family and settle down."
Matchmaker Liu's eyes lit up. Cultivators seeking mortal wives were her favorite clients. "Immortal Master Lu has come to the right place! We have many fine young ladies from reputable mortal merchant families, and even some from declining martial arts clans. May I ask what the Immortal Master's requirements are?"
Lu Changsheng took a sip of the mortal tea provided. He didn't care about the taste. He looked directly at Matchmaker Liu and stated his requirements clearly, having thought them out thoroughly on his walk over.
"I have three requirements," Lu Changsheng said, raising a finger. "First, they must be healthy, with good constitutions, suited for bearing children. I am establishing a bloodline, and I want a large family."
Matchmaker Liu nodded vigorously. "Naturally, naturally. A flourishing family is a blessing. And the second requirement?"
"Second," Lu Changsheng raised a second finger, "They must be willing to live a quiet, secluded life. I am a man who prefers peace. I do not want women who are prone to jealousy, drama, or vanity. I require a harmonious household where everyone knows their place and works together for the family."
"Ah, a wise Immortal Master indeed. You seek virtuous women," she praised, mentally filtering her list of candidates to exclude the spoiled daughters of wealthy merchants.
"Third," Lu Changsheng raised his third finger, leaning forward slightly. "I am not a wealthy man, Matchmaker Liu. I am a loose cultivator. I cannot offer grand spiritual mansions or pills that grant eternal youth. I can offer them safety from the chaos of the mortal world, a roof over their heads, food on the table, and my protection. They must be fully aware of my financial situation before agreeing. I want no complaints later."
Matchmaker Liu waved her silk handkerchief dismissively. "Immortal Master jests. To a mortal woman, just the title of your wife is wealth enough! Protection from bandits, exemption from the town lord's heavy taxes... these are things gold cannot buy." She paused, her calculating eyes narrowing slightly. "May I ask how many wives the Immortal Master intends to take initially?"
Lu Changsheng didn't hesitate. "Three."
Matchmaker Liu blinked, surprised. Usually, poor loose cultivators only took one wife, perhaps a concubine later if they struck it rich. Taking three at once required a significant amount of food and resources, even for mortals.
"Three?" she repeated. "Immortal Master is ambitious. Taking three at once... the bride prices, even for mortals, will require some capital."
Lu Changsheng reached into his robe and placed five low-grade spirit stones on the table. The stones pulsed with a faint, milky white light, instantly capturing the matchmaker's greedy gaze. For mortals, one low-grade spirit stone could be exchanged for a hundred taels of gold, enough for a family to live comfortably for years.
"Five spirit stones," Lu Changsheng said flatly. "This is for your fee and the bride prices combined. I want three women. I do not care about their family background, whether they are orphans, refugees, or daughters of butchers. As long as they meet my three requirements, and they are willing, I will take them."
He was spending a third of his life savings in one go, but it was the most important investment he would ever make. He needed three to start because he needed the bloodline tree to branch quickly. Relying on one woman was too slow; what if she was infertile? What if she died in childbirth? He needed redundancy. He needed a system.
Matchmaker Liu swiftly swept the spirit stones into her sleeve, her smile widening until it nearly reached her ears. "Immortal Master Lu is truly decisive! Leave it to me. With this generous sum, I can find you three absolute beauties who are healthy, docile, and eager to serve an Immortal. In fact, due to the recent beast tide in the southern mortal provinces, we have an influx of refugees. Many fine, sturdy girls from good but ruined families are desperate for a safe haven. Give me three days!"
"No," Lu Changsheng said firmly, standing up. He hated the idea of waiting. The longer he was without a descendant, the longer his immortality was delayed. "I will wait here. Bring the candidates to me today. By tonight, I want them in my home."
Matchmaker Liu was taken aback by his urgency but didn't argue. Money talked. "Understood! Please enjoy the tea, Immortal Master. I shall dispatch my runners immediately."
For the next four hours, Lu Changsheng sat in the parlor, meditating to stabilize his chaotic spiritual energy while Matchmaker Liu paraded several groups of young women before him.
It was a stark reminder of the cruelty of this world. These girls, mostly between the ages of sixteen and twenty, looked at him with a mixture of awe, terror, and desperate hope. To them, he was a god who could pluck them from the miseries of starvation and refugee camps. Lu Changsheng felt a twinge of guilt from his modern Earth sensibilities, but he brutally crushed it down. He was no longer on Earth. He was a man trying to survive in a dark forest. He would treat them well, he would protect them, but he would not let useless sentimentality cloud his judgment.
He observed them carefully, ignoring the ones adorned in heavy makeup or those who looked around the room with calculating, ambitious eyes. He focused on their physical health, the calluses on their hands indicating a willingness to work, and the quiet resignation in their demeanor.
Eventually, he made his selections.
The first was a girl named Lin Wan'er. She was eighteen, dressed in coarse linen, with a slightly pale face but wide, intelligent eyes. She was a refugee from a village destroyed by a low-level demonic wolf pack. She was chosen because when asked what she wanted most, she simply replied, "To never go hungry again, and to sleep without fear."
The second was Zhao Qing. She was twenty, slightly older, with a sturdy, curvaceous build and a calm, stoic expression. She was the daughter of a mortal blacksmith who had died in debt. She had sold herself to the matchmaker to pay off her father's creditors and save her younger brother. She was chosen for her undeniable physical constitution and her obvious sense of duty.
The third selection surprised even the matchmaker. It was a girl named Xia Ruyan. Unlike the other two, she was technically not a mortal. She was nineteen, breathtakingly beautiful with delicate features and an aura of refined sorrow. She was the daughter of two low-level cultivators who had perished in a secret realm. However, Xia Ruyan possessed no spiritual root whatsoever. In the cultivation world, a mortal born to cultivators was a tragedy. She had been cast out of her parents' small social circle, left to fend for herself. She was chosen because Lu Changsheng reasoned that a woman who knew the harshness of the cultivation world firsthand, yet possessed no power herself, would be the most compliant and understanding of his desire to hide.
"These three," Lu Changsheng told Matchmaker Liu, gesturing to the three young women who stood nervously in a line.
"Excellent choices, Immortal Master!" Matchmaker Liu beamed. "I will arrange the paperwork immediately. Since there are no families to negotiate with, the process is simple."
By the time the sun began to set, casting long, blood-red shadows over the Qinghe Market, Lu Changsheng was walking back toward his dilapidated shack in the outer slums. Following silently behind him were Lin Wan'er, Zhao Qing, and Xia Ruyan. They carried small bundles containing their meager worldly possessions.
As they entered the narrow, smelly alleyway leading to his home, he noticed the subtle changes in their expressions. Lin Wan'er and Zhao Qing looked slightly relieved; despite the poverty of the surroundings, it was better than a refugee camp or a debtor's prison. Xia Ruyan, however, looked around with a hint of masked dismay, clearly having expected a cultivator to live in slightly better conditions.
Lu Changsheng stopped at the door of his shack and turned to face them. He needed to establish the rules immediately. He let out a tiny fraction of his Qi Condensation Level 2 aura—pitiful to a real cultivator, but heavy and suffocating to mortals.
"Listen to me carefully," Lu Changsheng said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, yet carrying an undeniable weight. He met each of their eyes in turn. "This is our home now. As you can see, I am not a wealthy cultivator. I am a man who values his life and peace above all else."
He stepped closer, his gaze turning serious. "I have married you three for one primary purpose: to build a family. I expect you to bear children, to raise them well, and to maintain a harmonious household. In return, I swear upon my Dao heart that as long as you do not betray me, as long as you do not bring trouble to this door, you will never starve, you will never be sold, and no one will harm you while I draw breath."
He paused, letting his words sink in. He needed them to understand the core of his survival strategy without revealing his cheat.
"The outside world is a slaughterhouse," he continued softly, pointing toward the towering walls of the inner market. "Cultivators die every day for nothing. We will not be like them. We will not compete. We will not show off. We will close our door and live our lives quietly. Do not speak to the neighbors unless necessary. Do not accept gifts from strangers. Do not boast about being a cultivator's wife. If anyone asks, I am a useless coward who rarely leaves his bed. Do you understand?"
Lin Wan'er was the first to drop to her knees, bowing her head. "Husband's words are law. Wan'er understands. I only seek a quiet life."
Zhao Qing quickly followed, her voice steady. "Qing understands. I will work hard for the family."
Xia Ruyan hesitated for a fraction of a second, her pride as the former daughter of cultivators warring with her current reality as a powerless mortal. But she looked at Lu Changsheng's cold, serious eyes, and realizing he was offering exactly what her parents had failed to find—safety—she knelt as well. "Ruyan understands, Husband."
"Good. Stand up. Go inside and clean the place up. I will go buy some rice and spiritual beast meat. Tonight, we celebrate."
As the three women entered the shack and immediately began organizing the messy interior, Lu Changsheng stood alone in the dimming alleyway. He looked up at the sky, where the first stars were beginning to pierce the twilight.
He was poor. He was weak. He was a coward living in a slum.
But as he felt the ethereal, golden Eternal Bloodline Tree pulsing quietly within his soul, waiting for the first buds to form, a slow, icy smile spread across his face.
*Let the geniuses fight over heavenly treasures. Let the holy sons battle for the mandate of heaven. Let the demonic emperors bathe the world in blood.*
*I, Lu Changsheng, will simply sit here in the mud. I will hide behind my locked door. I will take wives, I will have children, and I will let the relentless march of time destroy all my enemies while I slowly, inevitably, breed my way to absolute invincibility.*
The path to immortality had officially begun. And it was going to be the most boring, cautious, and terrifyingly unstoppable path this universe had ever seen.