It had been five days since Lin Xuan was born into this new world.
Five days of warmth, milk, and sleep.
Five days of stillness in a body too small to do anything.
For a man who had already tasted despair, chosen death, and argued with a god, being trapped in the fragile shell of a newborn was a unique kind of torment.He couldn't move as he wished.
He couldn't speak.
He couldn't cultivate.
All he could do… was lie there."All day just lying down… anyone would go crazy," he mocked himself in the depths of his heart.The only relief came when his father lifted him up and carried him outside.
One day, his father once more held him in his arms and walked out of the room. Lin's tiny fingers couldn't even grip properly, but his eyes—those were awake, sharp, and hungry.What he saw in those few outings slowly painted a picture in his mind.This was no small house.The estate stretched outward like a small city of its own. Pavilions, training fields, gardens, warehouses, servant quarters—structures connected and layered, each with its purpose. Stone paths cut through lush greenery. Tall walls embraced the property, silent yet imposing.
By estimation, the manor was at least the size of ten football fields from his previous world—if not more.Carts rolled through the grand gates in a constant flow. Crates of herbs, minerals, weapons, silks, and strange objects he couldn't yet identify came in and out. Goods were counted, recorded, and distributed with practiced order.Servants moved with the precise rhythm of people used to busy days. Guards patrolled with sharp eyes and steady steps.From such scenes, Lin drew one conclusion:"Father is a merchant. And not just a small-time trader. He's a giant.
"But this realization was still nothing compared to what he saw next.The first true surge of excitement in his new life came from the sky.One day, as his father walked through the front courtyard with him in his arms, a piercing sound swept through the air—like a sword cutting the wind itself.Lin's gaze was pulled upward.The clouds parted.A streak of light tore across the blue. As it descended, the light revealed a man standing upon a sword, robes fluttering as he moved as freely as if walking on solid ground. The sword's edge cut through the sky, leaving ripples of energy behind it.A cultivator.A real one.Not on a screen. Not on a page.But right above his head.A strange pressure swept through the courtyard, not heavy enough to crush, but enough to remind everyone below of how small they were.Lin's blood stirred."So this… is cultivation," he thought.
"This is the world I chose."Below, servants, guards, and even some elders in the distance bowed deeply. Some knelt, heads lowered, not daring to look directly.The respect was absolute."He must be a high-level cultivator… or a sect leader," Lin guessed. "Or maybe a hero of this land."His father, though a cultivator himself, did not receive such treatment from strangers. For someone to make a whole courtyard bow simply by passing above…That was true status."That," Lin thought, "is the sky I'm aiming for."As the days slowly stacked a week, then a month, then many Lin noticed something else.The language here was foreign.The people's words flowed like a river of unfamiliar syllables, yet carried a rhythm and structure all their own. But strangely, Lin understood everything.Their voices, conversations, and expressions all translated directly into meaning in his mind.
He could feel how this language differed from anything on Earth: deeper, more layered, filled with concepts that simply didn't exist back then.He clicked his tongue inwardly."Must be the god's doing," he thought. "He tossed me here and at least gave me the ability to understand. Fine."Time, which once crawled, began to move without him noticing.Infancy melted into childhood.His hazy vision cleared. His babbling turned into speech.
His clumsy movements sharpened into control.By the time five years had passed, Lin Xuan had truly become a part of this world.He stood now as a small boy with a straight back and clear presence. His body wasn't tall, but it was steady, already showing traces of discipline. His hair was pure black, slightly messy yet soft, framing his young face.But it was his eyes that stood out.They were not the eyes of a naive five-year-old.They were sharp, focused, and predatory—eyes like a vulture, watching everything from above, dissecting every detail, every movement, every word.His body wasn't heavily built, but it wasn't frail either.
Years of light training and constant activity had given him a lean, sturdy frame—a body that would not break easily.While other children played with toys, Lin had spent his early years studying.Language, etiquette, numbers, geography, culture—anything his father and tutors allowed him to touch, he absorbed.
The written script of this world was complex, its characters dense with meaning, but he climbed through it step by step.By now, he could read and write fluently. He could hold proper conversations with adults, understand layered speech, and analyze what was spoken and what was left unsaid.More importantly, he was beginning to understand the world itself.He learned that his father was, as he suspected, not an ordinary merchant.He was a cultivator.
A powerful one, though Lin didn't yet know his exact realm. Lin's mother, too, was a cultivator.The merchant business, impressive as it was, was only one branch of their power.Above all of this, Lin discovered something crucial:This was not a simple cultivation world.Here, raw talent alone did not determine one's rise.Yes, talent mattered. A strong physique, sharp soul, and dense spiritual roots made the path easier.But above all, this world valued one thing:Understanding.
His father's words echoed in his mind."In this world," he had said, "each cultivation stage has a meaning. If you do not understand that meaning, you may reach the realm… but you will never truly stand within it.""Strength is not only how much energy you gather, but how deeply you comprehend the level you stand on."Two cultivators at the same realm could be as different as heaven and mud.One who grasped the essence of their stage could crush a dozen so-called 'geniuses' who only forced their way forward with blind training.Understanding made power sharp.
Understanding made power real.
.Lin also learned another piece of shocking news.This world he walked on… was only a mortal world.Above it, beyond the sky and beyond the reach of ordinary cultivators, there existed another realm.The Dao World.Those who reached the peak of cultivation here, those who transcended the limit of mortals, could attempt to ascend. If they succeeded, they would leave this world entirely and step into the Dao World, where true immortals dwelled."The place I'm in now," Lin thought, "is just the starting ground. The true battlefield lies above."From his father, Lin memorized the basic framework of cultivation realms in this world.There were five main stages in the mortal realm's path
:Diatan FormationFoundation
LevelStabilization LevelCore
Harmony Level
Dao Understanding Level
Each of these realms was divided into three smaller phases.
His father explained:"Each stage has three levels we denote like this:
MIL – Early
TIL –Mid
SIL – Late
The 'IL' is the underlying line of growth the interval of life and the letters M, T, S show where in that line you stand.So, mid Core Harmony Stage is called TIL Harmony Stage."To someone from Earth, it sounded strange. But as Lin studied the language and context of this world, he realized these were not just abbreviations.
They were tied to concepts of time, growth, and spiritual rhythm.Even the names of realms here carried philosophy."This world's language and cultivation are intertwined," Lin realized. "Words, meaning, and power… they all feed each other."And then there was the world itself.The mortal realm was divided into five continents.On the first continent, the demons ruled beings with savage power and ancient bloodlines.On the second, the elves lived among forests and light, attuned to nature and spirit.On the third, humans built their kingdoms and sects, rising and falling like waves.On the fourth, dwarfs lived amidst stone and metal, shaping the bones of the earth itself.And in the very center of all these lands was the fifth continent—the Peace Land.
The Peace Land did not belong to any one race.Every year, the strongest youths and high-level cultivators from all four outer continents gathered there. Peace talks were held to prevent the races from tearing each other apart.And every year, a grand tournament was conducted.In that arena, the younger generation of all races clashed to determine who stood at the peak of their era.
This world had a long history—a history so deep that even mentioning its beginning made elders fall silent.Dynasties had risen, sects had ruled, races had waged wars that shook mountains and rewrote maps. Great heroes, monsters, and demons had left scars that had yet to fade.But what Lin knew for certain was only this:There had been a war.
A great war.
So great it nearly ended everything.Beyond that, the details turned into fog. Either the common people didn't know… or some truths had been buried on purpose.Lin was still too small to dig into such matters.So he watched. He learned. He waited.One day, when he was around five, his father called for him.Lin entered his father's study, the same room lined with shelves of scrolls and books, scented faintly with old paper and burning incense. Sunlight filtered through the window, dust motes drifting like tiny stars in the dim glow.
His father sat cross-legged behind a low table, documents resting near his hand. When Lin stepped in, his father raised his head, his gaze calm but sharp."Sit," he said.Lin sat opposite him, back straight, waiting in silence.For a brief moment, his father did not speak. He simply looked at his son—not as a child, but as someone making a judgment.Then, at last, he said:"my son… what do you want to be in the future?"The question was simple. But Lin knew it was not casual.
The path he chose today would decide how he lived… and how he died.He did not hesitate."I want to be a cultivator, Father."His father's eyes narrowed ever so slightly."Are you sure?" he asked.His voice did not rise, but the pressure behind it thickened.
"You are just a newly sprouted plant, growing in the shade of a great tree. As long as you stay beneath that tree, the storms will not touch you. The blazing sun will not scorch you. Rain and wind will always be softened before they reach you."He leaned forward slightly, his gaze turning deeper."But the moment you grow tall enough to stretch beyond that shade… the world will reveal its true face.""The higher you reach, the sharper the winds will cut. You will see ugliness you cannot unsee. Blood. Betrayal. Selfishness. Death. You will watch people fall around you. You will lose things you do not want to lose.
"He paused, letting each word sink like a weight."So I am asking you again, ""Do you still wish to walk the path of cultivation?"Lin did not avert his gaze.In his previous life, he had already seen the filth of humanity. He had already lost his body, his hope, and his reason. He chose death once. He knew clearly what despair felt like.Compared to that, the dangers ahead did not frighten him.
What frightened him… was staying weak and helpless again.
"Those who think too much of the future," Lin replied slowly, each word deliberate, "are killed by the present first.""My resolve won't change. I want to be a cultivator. Only that. Nothing else."Silence pressed down on the room.Then, his father exhaled.A faint, almost invisible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Pride flickered in his eyes, quickly hidden behind a calm expression."As you wish," he said, standing.
"Just don't come crying to me when you can't handle the pressure."His tone sounded casual, but Lin could feel the decision had been made.From that day, a new routine began.
Day after day, under sun and under moon, his father drilled into him the basics.Lin's body was still young, so he could not yet handle cultivation of Qi. But he could strengthen his flesh.Horse stance until his legs trembled.
Punches thrown again and again until his arms burned.
Breathing exercises to steady his heart and expand his lungs.
Footwork drills to grow speed in his steps.
Stretching to force flexibility into stubborn muscles.There were no flashy techniques, no sword lights, no roaring Qi.Just repetition.Endless repetition.The kind of foundation most geniuses were too impatient to build.A year passed.That one year etched itself into his bones.By the time he turned six, Lin Xuan no longer resembled a normal child.He was still small in stature—this was not yet the age to grow tall—but his presence had changed. His body had taken on a refined toughness. His steps were light but grounded.
His breathing was controlled, no longer shallow like that of a regular child.His face grew clearer, forming the early shape of a handsome youth. His black hair framed features that would one day be sharp and resolute.Most of all, his eyes had gained something new.A quiet, unyielding resolve.Six years old. Too young for the world to expect anything of him.But deep within, Lin knew:He had already taken his first step.From a broken man who died alone in a dark room…
To a newborn crying into bright, unfamiliar light…
To a child standing at the threshold of power.The soil of this world had accepted his seed.The roots were forming.Now, slowly, silently—The sprout was pushing upward.Lin Xuan, in this small mortal world beneath a greater Dao sky, took another step toward his journey.Out of soil… so that one day…A flower might bloom.To be continued…