Xiao Zhan exhaled slowly, watching his breath mist in the chill air. His body hummed with restless energy, the aftereffects of yesterday’s near-breakthrough. The Iron Sage’s techniques were rudimentary compared to what he knew, but they served as a necessary facade.
No more waiting.
He dressed swiftly, his movements silent as a shadow slipping through the cracks of the world. The dormitory door creaked faintly as he eased it open, but no one stirred. Outside, the campus was a ghost town, the cobblestone paths glistening with dew under the pale light of the waning moon.
The training park was his destination—a secluded stretch of land behind the lecture halls, dotted with ancient oaks and stone training dummies worn smooth by generations of students. Here, he could work without prying eyes.
Body Before Qi.
He began with the Celestial Dawn Form, a warrior-world technique designed to purge impurities from the flesh. His muscles burned as he pushed through the motions—slow, deliberate stretches that forced his tendons to their limits, followed by explosive bursts of movement. The air whistled around his fists as he struck imaginary opponents, his footwork precise, his balance unshakable.
Too slow.
His body, though reforged through past-life knowledge, was still bound by this world’s weaker physics. He needed more.
Blood and Breath.
Next came the Void-Severing Meditation, a technique meant to forcibly awaken Qi in those deemed talentless. A brutal method, one that had killed more cultivators than it had empowered. But for him? A mere warm-up.
He dropped into a cross-legged stance, palms upturned on his knees. His breathing slowed—inhale for four heartbeats, hold for seven, exhale for eight. The rhythm synced with his pulse, drawing the ambient Qi toward him like iron filings to a lodestone.
At first, nothing. The energy here was thin, reluctant.
Then—
A spark.
A single thread of silver light flickered in his dantian, fragile as a candle in the wind.
Patience.
He fed it, coaxing it with his will, forcing it to grow. The Qi resisted, thrashing like a wild beast caught in a snare. Pain lanced through his meridians, white-hot and searing.
Weak.
In his past life, he’d commanded oceans of Qi with a thought. Now, he fought for drops.
But drops, given time, could erode mountains.
Breakthrough.
The thread thickened. Solidified.
And then—
Snap.
A pulse of energy radiated from his core, flooding his limbs with liquid fire. His muscles trembled, his bones groaned, his skin prickled as if a thousand needles danced beneath it.
Then, silence.
He opened his eyes.
The world had changed.
Colors were sharper—the green of the leaves more vibrant, the brown of the bark richer. The distant chirping of birds was crisper, each note distinct. Even the scent of the air was clearer, carrying hints of damp earth and distant rain.
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He flexed his fingers. Power thrummed beneath his skin, raw and untamed.
The Mortal Realm.
The first true stage of cultivation. Where flesh was reforged by Qi, and strength surpassed human limits.
By this world’s standards? Fighter-level.
A smirk tugged at his lips.
And I’ve barely begun.
His hand twitched, fingers curling as if around an invisible hilt.
I need a sword.
When he slipped back into the dorm, dawn’s light had just begun to bleed through the windows.
Li Heng was the first to notice. He blinked blearily, rubbing his eyes. "The hell, Zhan? You’re up before the roosters?"
Wang Jun groaned into his pillow. "I swear, if you tell me you went for a ‘refreshing morning jog,’ I’m throwing a shoe at you."
Xiao Zhan said nothing, merely grabbing a towel to wipe the lingering sweat from his brow.
Zhao Qi, ever observant, frowned. "You look… different."
He was right.
The breakthrough had honed him. His posture was straighter, his gaze colder, his presence heavier. Like a blade unsheathed.
Li Heng squinted. "Did you… get taller?"
Wang Jun sat up, squinting. "Wait, no—his shoulders are broader. What the hell, man? Did you sneak into the gym at dawn?"
Xiao Zhan shrugged. "Training."
"Training for what? A bodybuilding contest?"
"Survival."
That shut them up.
The cafeteria was its usual chaos—clattering trays, overlapping chatter, the scent of greasy food thick in the air.
Then she appeared.
Bai Xue, alone this time, no Lu Feng in sight.
She didn’t mean to approach them. It was an accident—a stumble, a misstep. Her tray wobbled, and for a heartbeat, she was right in front of Xiao Zhan.
Their eyes met.
She expected something. A smirk. A sneer. A foolish, arrogant comment.
Instead, he looked through her. As if she were air.
Then he stepped past, cold and indifferent.
Bai Xue blinked.
What…?
The rumors painted him as a spoiled second-generation young master. Arrogant. Frivolous.
But the man who just ignored her carried himself like a soldier. His dark hair was longer now, tied back, his jaw sharper, his frame more defined. And his eyes—
Like he’s already seen the end of the world.
"Uh oh," Li Heng whispered, grinning. "Zhan, I think you just broke her brain."
Wang Jun choked on his congee. "Did Bai Xue just stare at you?"
Zhao Qi adjusted his glasses. "Statistically, 98% of male students would kill for that kind of attention."
Xiao Zhan ignored them all.
Bai Xue, still standing there, felt something unfamiliar.
Curiosity.
The next class was different.
The teacher was a woman—Professor Lan, a renowned physicist. Her beauty was undeniable, her presence commanding. Long dark hair, sharp eyes, a voice like silk over steel.
Half the male students were already lovestruck.
Xiao Zhan felt nothing but nostalgia.
Science.
His first life had been that of a researcher. A man of logic.
Professor Lan began her lecture, her words precise, her knowledge vast. Then—
"Can anyone explain the principle behind quantum entanglement?"
Silence.
Then, without thinking, Xiao Zhan answered.
Fluently. Too fluently.
Professor Lan’s eyes narrowed. Then widened.
"You’ve studied advanced physics?"
"Enough."
She pressed further. He answered deeper.
By the end, she was staring at him like he was a puzzle she needed to solve.
Remembered.
His father’s call came unexpectedly.
Return home. A guest is coming.
The guest, as it turned out, was Bai Xue’s father.
Bai Zheng.
A name that carried weight.
In Danghai City, Bai Zheng was a titan—a high-ranking member of the city council, a leader of the influential Bai family, and a man whose political acumen was matched only by his martial prowess. Rumors claimed he’d once single-handedly crushed a rebellion in the outer districts, though no one could confirm it.
What was certain was this: Bai Zheng was a man who shaped destinies.
And now, he was sitting across from Xiao Zhan at the dinner table.
The meal was lavish—steamed fish, braised pork, delicate soups—but the tension was thicker than the aroma of the dishes.
Bai Zheng studied Xiao Zhan with the detached interest of a man appraising a weapon.
"I’ve heard… rumors about you," he said, swirling his wine.
Xiao Zhan met his gaze evenly. "Rumors are wind."
Bai Zheng’s lips twitched. "They say you’re arrogant."
"They say many things."
A pause. Then—
"My daughter mentioned you."
Did she now?
Xiao Zhan took a sip of tea. "I wasn’t aware I’d left an impression."
Bai Zheng chuckled. "Oh, you did. She came home yesterday, confused. Said the ‘arrogant young master’ she’d heard about was nothing like the man she saw."
Xiao Zhan said nothing.
Bai Zheng leaned forward. "She said you looked at her like she was beneath your notice."
"Not beneath," Xiao Zhan corrected. "Irrelevant."
The older man’s eyebrows rose. "Bold words."
"Honest ones."
Bai Zheng laughed, a deep, booming sound. "I like you, boy. Most would grovel. You? You don’t even blink."
Xiao Zhan set down his cup. "I have no interest in forcing a marriage where there is no respect."
Bai Zheng’s amusement faded. He studied Xiao Zhan for a long moment. Then—
"We will see what happens, young man."
When he left, Xiao Zhan’s father sighed.
"You handled that well."
Too well.
Because now, the future was unwritten.
And the world?
It was watching.
[End of Chapter 8]
- Apprentice Level: Ordinary martial artists who had only begun to temper their bodies.
- Fighter Level: Those who could manipulate internal energy slightly; their physical abilities far surpassed normal humans.
- Master Level: Elite figures capable of minor Qi projections and devastating physical power.
- Grandmaster Level: Top experts able to perform feats considered almost supernatural in this world.
Mortal Phase: This was the beginning, where warriors were like children learning to walk. They could harness only a fraction of Qi, relying mostly on physical strength and basic techniques. Shen Li spent only a few years in this phase, but even then, his mind set him apart from the others.
Celestial Phase: The first true level of mastery, where warriors learned to manipulate elemental Qi—fire, water, earth, and wind. It was here that Shen Li began to shape his understanding of Qi as an extension of his will. By the time he reached this phase, he could summon firestorms or heal with a touch of water. However, this was only the beginning. It was here that Shen Li realized that power alone was not the end of the journey.
Divine Phase: This level was where the mind and body transcended the physical world. Warriors could slow or even reverse their aging, and their physical strength became godlike. Shen Li spent decades mastering the flow of time within his own body, learning how to control his Qi to such an extent that he could outlive entire generations of enemies.
Transcendent Phase: The realm of immortals, where a warrior could manipulate the fabric of reality itself. Shen Li stood here for hundreds of years, a being of unimaginable power. He could reshape the landscape with a thought, and even time itself bent to his will. Yet, despite the godlike power, he found himself alone. His companions, those he had once fought alongside, were long gone. The weight of immortality pressed on him as he realized that even the greatest strength could not fill the void within his heart.
Ascendant Phase: This final stage of cultivation was a state of pure consciousness, where the boundaries of the self dissolved. A warrior at this level was not just a being of power—they were an embodiment of the universe itself. At this point, Shen Li realized that there was nothing more for him to conquer. His soul had reached the pinnacle of cultivation, but it was empty. This understanding—this realization—shattered something deep within him.