In the mortal realm, far from the earlier-great heavens of cultivation.
The streets buzzed with activity. Marchand were selling silk, jade, and steaming food, showcasing their simple daily life.
"Get your fresh jade here! Perfect for gifts!" "Silk is so soft, you won't believe it! Come see for yourself!" "Hot dumplings, just made! Grab a bite to warm y'all morning!"
Carriages rumbled along the stony streets, and crowds gathered on the bridges crossing the canals. Yet, in a secluded corner of the city, past a grove of bamboo, the Han Family's Black Wood Pavilion was filled with panic.
Servants rushed around like chickens without heads. Each of their faces were pale with fear.
"Young master! Young master, I brought a doctor!" Attendant Wu called out, pulling a man in gray robes into the chamber. "He'll cure you!"
On the bed lay a young man with messy hair and pale lips, surrounded by the strong scent of wine. His chest rose and fell slowly, barely moving in the naked eyes as if he were already on the brink of death.
Then—suddenly, a low groan came out of his throat.
Wei Ji's mind swam back from darkness. He felt dizzy, immediately he paused, his tongue felt heavy, and he could somewhat feel a sour, bitter taste of alcohol burning his mouth. He frowned and snapped open his eyes.
"…Who?" he asked in annoyance.
His gaze lazily darted around. The rafters above him, the black wooden pillars, the simple furniture—it all looked old.
"Huh? Where am I?" He exclaimed.
Attendant Wu froze in shock. The doctor in ceremonial clothing was clueless. The other servants were all frozen as if they were seeing a ghost.
Just moments ago, the young master had seemed dead. No pulse and not breathing a bit. But now he was awake, eyes still fierce like a predator.
"Young master…?" Wu stuttered, not believing it. "But… just now you weren't breathing. How… how are you fine now?"
Wei Ji's voice cut through the air. "Huh?" Then he became alert.
Wu eyed him deeply to make sure he's not just seeing things. Soon, tears began to roll down his cheeks while clutching his chest tightly. "Young Master Han! You're alive! I thought you had drunk yourself to death, hah! Hahaha!"
But Wei Ji's face darkened. "Get out."
The words were cold, as if leaving no room for them to question him.
Wu quickly dropped to his knees and bowed. "Yes, young master! Right away!" He hurried to wave everyone out, even forcing the doctor back through the door. "Out everyone, out!" Soon, the room fell silent again.
Wei Ji let out a slow breath. Now that he was alone, his eyes grew cold and sharp.
"So… it worked." He smirked but his tone was a little in disbelief and relieved. "My research on time tampering actually worked. I passed through the river of time and ended up in this body—one called 'Young Master Han.'"
"Haha! I thought I would perish," he added.
He looked at the scrolls on the wall, the carved b.eams, the old-fashioned furniture. "This looks like the ancient times of my home planet… Am I really back on Earth?"
Then he froze. A faint trace of spiritual energy drifted through the air. Weak, thin, barely there—but to him whose soul was a million years old, he could immediately tell the properties of this one.
His brow tightened. "No. This isn't Earth."
It was impossible. Earth spiritual energy was not connected to the above realm. Or else the planets won't go round. This faint qi felt just like the energy of the Middle Realm, only weaker. No, not just weaker but much much much weaker. But it means it was connected to the above realms.
"Don't tell me…" His eyes narrowed. "This is a mortal world at the Lower Realm." Mortal worlds were countless, like sand in a desert. He assumed he had fallen into one of them.
Suddenly, a strong smell of wine reached his nose. Sweet at first, but with a bitter, sharp note that turned sour. Something's wrong. Sour? Is this alcohol sour? He narrowed his eyes and realized what made it sour. "Poison."
Wei Ji touched his stomach. This… probably ended the life of the real owner of this body, so he must expel it and affect him next.
Without hesitation, he ripped open his robe. Exposing his thin and faintly bruised chest. He shaped his hand like a blade, drawing a trace of the surrounding spiritual qi into his palm. Although it wasn't as strong as a proper use of spiritual qi compared to a normal cultivator, it was enough for him now.
Stab!
With enough weight, he struck his stomach hard. He winced in pain and coughed out thick, black blood clots that smelled of rot and wine. He heaved a sigh of relief and calmed himself down after realizing there's no more.
"Whoever poisoned this body…" He spat blood on the floor. "…I should take note of them even if it looked like they gifted this body to me."
Already sitting down, he crossed his legs immediately, in his mind was to survive first, he must prepare.
Preparation means he needed to cultivate, fast!
Without power, he would be nothing wherever he goes. That's his motto of life. To make sure he keeps surviving, he must seek strength first to be prepared wherever he ends up. No matter how safe or dangerous it may look.
Wei Ji closed his eyes, pulling at the weak energy in the air. Slowly, thin strands of spiritual qi drifted toward him. But the moment they touched his body, a vein bulged on his forehead as he realized that the spiritual qi began to slip away like sand through one's fingers.
His eyes opened sharply.
"…No spiritual root?" His voice was cold. "This body has no talent at all?"
For most people, this would be the dead end. A hopeless situation. But Wei Ji was not like most people. He had led a great sect, fought across realms, and studied the deepest mysteries of cultivation.
"This is nothing."
He raised his hands, shaping them into blades again.
Bang!
He struck his own chest. Then again—Bang! Bang! His body rocked with each blow, causing some blood to come out from his eyes, ears and even nose. Still, he kept hammering his own meridians, breaking and reshaping them with sheer force and endurance.
"This mortal body… I'll remake it with my own hands."
Several faint spiritual qi in the room quivered. Slowly, it began to flow into his wounds. He gritted his teeth, carefully guiding them down into his dantian. It was smooth due to the concentration he's giving to it.
Soon enough, the energy whirled inside him. First it was like a mist, then slowly pressing tighter until it shaped into the faint outline of a root. Not solid yet, but slowly started taking form.
Wei Ji's body spasmed. Because the energies he guided inside turned wild, rampaging inside him like a beast in chains tackling different directions.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
He struck himself again, each blow locking the energy inside. His vision became blurry due to the numbing pain his body was currently feeling. But he kept enduring them.
"This is the hardest part…" His breath came ragged. "…the birth of a root."
His body twisted as if it would tear apart. The energy inside tried to escape, ripping through his veins causing him to bite down hard that his gums started bleeding.
"Condense!"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The chamber trembled due to the exploding vibration from his body. But it became weak, slow, and after a few seconds, it became nonexistent.
Breaking the silence.
Knock. Knock.
A voice came from the other side of the door. "Young master? Young master, I… I brought something for you," it was Attendant Wu.
Inside the room, Wei Ji's eyes opened.
"Leave it there," his rang out fiercely. "Remember—don't come back until I call for you. No matter what happens or what you hear, don't disturb me. I'll find you when I'm ready."
His tone was sharp, enough to make the man outside freeze in place. Wei Ji kept his eyes fixed on the door, his gaze cold and steady, as if he could see right through the wood and sense the attendant's anxious posture on the other side.
The shadow of the attendant bowed quickly, though his voice betrayed his unease. "Y-yes, young master." As he turned to leave, a whispered comment slipped from his lips, "Still upset about the marriage yesterday… sigh…"
The soft sound of his retreating footsteps faded into the distance.
Wei Ji remained still, his head slightly tilted as he listened intently. Every word, every mutter, had reached his ears as if spoken directly beside him. His sharp hearing, honed in his previous life as a sect leader, had not dulled even in this weaker body.
"Marriage?" he murmured to himself, his brow knitting. "So this body was troubled by that before I took it over."