Xan Li Fang descended gently, landing on the floorboards with the feather-light grace of a seasoned master.
— "Not too bad," he murmured to himself, testing the strange, weightless feeling of his new body.
His eyes immediately focused on the two figures near the bedside: the unconscious Auntie Yao Lin and the slack-jawed Cultivator Mulo . He rushed to the elderly woman, swiftly checking her pulse and breath.
— "Phew, she's alive."
Xan straightened up and turned to the cultivator. Mulo was impeccably dressed in rich fabrics that looked like they belonged on a prince, contrasting sharply with the poverty of the village. His eyes, though wide with shock, held a calculating glint.
— "This fellow cultivator," Mulo stammered, recovering slightly but maintaining a façade of composure. "May I know who you are?"
Xan paused. His mother's frantic warning echoed in the depths of his memory: "Never tell anyone your true name or identity."
— "Aaa, pardon me, my attention was on the good lady," Xan replied smoothly, giving a shallow bow. "My name is Wang Mao . Yes, you may call me Master ."
The title felt foreign, but Mulo's reaction was instantaneous.
"Master Wang, I humbly welcome you!" Mulo executed a flawless, deep bow of respect, nearly touching his head to the floor. "It is the first time in my life I have witnessed a Second Step Cultivator !"
— "I am no cultivator," Xan lied easily, a faint smile touching his lips. He understood that Mulo's respect was based entirely on the power he sensed. "This was merely a misunderstanding. Thank you for checking on me."
"Your health is the only thing that matters! My help was nothing!" Mulo gushed, standing upright but keeping his posture deferential. He understood that showering the master with reverence was the fastest way to gain favor. Mulo knew that power, regardless of its source, drew desire, and Xan's craving for knowledge and strength would be his entry point.
— "We thought you were the child of an Emperor," Mulo continued, carefully choosing words laced with flattery. "You fell from the heavens, covered in blood and broken bones. It was a sight that terrified the whole village."
Xan's expression darkened slightly. "That accident cost me much. Did you... did you happen to see an artifact? A small, gray tablet with a character carved on it?"
"An artifact?" Mulo frowned. "There was one strange thing. It was like a shiny screen in a cloth casing, but the village children found it first and broke it, thinking it was worthless colored glass."
Xan felt a pang of annoyance for his lost smartphone but relief for the safety of the Tablet. The Gray Stone Tablet with the 'DAO' inscription was now safely anchored in his Sea of Consciousness—the shattered phone had just been a distraction.
— "I see. No matter," Xan dismissed the phone with a wave of his hand.
"Master Wang, my home is nearby. We should speak in private. It is against village rules to discuss cultivation matters in public," Mulo stated, pointing toward a slightly larger hut.
— "That would be wise."
They left the unconscious Yao Lin and the empty room. For the next five hours , Mulo spoke. He explained the nature of the Supreme and Mortal Continents , the scarcity of resources, the current power structure (dominated by Sects), and the fundamental realms of cultivation (Mortal, Earth, Heaven, etc., that Xan had instantly surpassed).
The conversation solidified the reality: Xan was no longer dreaming. He was a cosmic refugee in a world that ran purely on strength, holding power he barely understood.
— "I am grateful for your honesty, Mulo," Xan said, concluding the talk. "I require two things immediately: A regional map of this Continent, and the location of the nearest cultivation academy ."