A Cunning Pervert in the Cultivation World Chapter 1: Thirty Years in the Azure Moon Sect

Li Feng collapsed onto a splintered wooden bench right outside the outer sect dormitories. Now at fifty years of age, he bore little resemblance to the robust, keen youth who had first stepped into this bizarre realm. Wrinkles marred his face, gray strands wove through his hair, and his paunch swelled under baggy, threadbare robes. Three decades of aggravation and glacial advancement pressed down on him like a burdensome shroud.

A staggering 35,000 spirit stones marked the lucky haul he had unearthed by accident, tucked away in the corpse of a slain cultivator during his debut day in this land. This immense wealth could unlock pathways and secure sway in a realm that prized might above everything.

To gain entry into the Azure Moon Sect, he had shelled out 30,000 spirit stones—a sum inconceivable for an outer sect disciple. The leftover 4,900 stones vanished into endless efforts to shatter his cultivation impasse. Still, he remained mired at the third layer of Qi Refining, the entry-level stage where acolytes begin channeling spiritual energy.

In this ruthless cultivation world, all pursued the Dao, the boundless Path, with unyielding zeal. Bodily urges and cravings were mere hindrances, squandering vital time and Qi better used for meditation or drills toward the next breakthrough. The Dao stretched infinitely, with immortality as the supreme prize. Nobody yearned to crumble into dust and remains buried under millennia of soil. Might ruled supreme, and the weak got tossed aside like shattered implements.

The hierarchy of power rose rigidly: Qi Refining at the base, followed by Foundation Establishment to forge the Dao firmly, then Core Formation to ignite true promise, and Nascent Soul to unleash the soul's potent force. Scarcely anyone ascended further. For thirty years, Li Feng had languished on that bottom step.

Though his cultivation lagged, Li Feng's riches had earned him peculiar notoriety among outer sect peers. They scorned his weak realm but gossiped about the elderly entrant who purchased his spot.

His eyes wandered to the adjacent market lane, where a modest throng clustered, buzzing with awe. There, he spotted Yue Lan.

Yue Lan stood as a premier outer sect disciple, a radiant beacon amid the masses toiling for progress. Her raven tresses cascaded like a nocturnal stream along her spine, shimmering with each faint sway. Those golden orbs gleamed icy and vivid, slicing through the assembly with a shrewdness that pierced all secrets. Under her serene, immaculate fair complexion, her form suggested subtle, alluring power. Her garments flowed softly, outlining the swells of jade peaks and silky hollows, shaped flawlessly by the Dao. She glided akin to a lunar gust, aloof, elegant, wholly inaccessible.

She shone as the brightest among outer disciples. Inapproachable, dazzling, utterly pledged to the Dao.

Rather than mere admiration, Li Feng's mind twisted into fixation and lascivious visions as he ogled her. He pictured caressing that icy flawlessness, sensing her frame pressed against his. Yet he shoved the reverie aside swiftly. A paragon like her—radiant, poised, pristine—would never spare a glance for a plump, stalled wretch like him.

He averted his eyes, rancor seeping into his heart.

Unknown to him, Yue Lan's golden gaze had darted his way just earlier. A spark of scheming lit her eyes,

That night, after securing his humble chamber's door, a gentle rap jolted Li Feng.

Opening it revealed Yue Lan poised there, her face an enigma.

His pulse raced while a shaky, lopsided grin crept over his features.

"Senior Sister Yue... what brings you here?"