Four years had passed since Roman had died.
Four years since he had signed his name beneath a contract that had shattered that poor bar.
His name now was Tan Tai Lung.
He liked it.
It carried weight. Authority. It also made him smile for a reason he did not share with anyone – some half-forgotten cartoon from childhood, a snow leopard who was really good at kung fu.
His mother, however, loved to call him something else.
Gou Shi Yun – Dog Shit Luck.
In his old life, comparing someone's fate to a dog's was an insult. Here, it was praise of the highest order. To be born with "dog shit luck" meant Heaven itself had slipped on its own rules and fallen in your favor.
Roman, now Tai Lung approved of this semantic upgrade.
He lived in a place that would have been dismissed as fantasy by his former self.
The Eternal Spring Court bloomed across terraces of jade and white stone, waterfalls threading through pavilions like silk ribbons. Trees flowered year-round, their petals drifting lazily through the air as if reluctant to touch the ground. The sky above the Whispering Silk Continent was perpetually soft and never harsh.
Azure Heaven deserved its name.
Still, Tai Lung rarely wandered far.
His mother's private compound was vast enough to qualify as a small estate, and within it he lacked nothing. Servants. Tutors. Quiet halls filled with incense and wind-chimes. He did not remember much of his first days in this world – those memories had dissolved into warmth, milk, and drifting sensations – but the pattern was familiar.
Once again, he had been born holding a spoon.
This time, the spoon was made not of gold but of spiritual stone.
The Eternal Spring Court was not a combat sect. It did not field armies or enforce doctrine through slaughter. Its power lay elsewhere – in entertainment, commerce, and information. Cultivators gathered here to relax, to negotiate, and to forget themselves. Spiritual performances replaced crude pleasures. Music that calmed qi. Dances that aligned meridians. Poetry that brushed against the Dao. Though, to his shame, he understood none of it, but it did sound impressive.
Geishas, his old world might have called them.
Here, they were something far more dangerous.
And his mother was an Elder.
A real one.
Tai Lung understood enough – even at four – to grasp the implication.
I am absurdly rich, he thought with satisfaction. Again. Billions well spent.
He was running now.
Bare feet slapped softly against polished floors as he hurried toward the central tower. Today was different. Today, his mother had summoned him personally.
She was going to teach him cultivation.
Excitement fluttered through his small chest – not a childish one, but anticipation sharpened by memory. Whatever this world was, whatever rules governed it, Roman had not been reborn to waste time playing at innocence.
The study lay at the top of the nine-story tower. Tan Na Yu sat by the window, framed by light and relaxed posture.
Tai Lung did not hesitate.
He ran forward and threw himself at her.
She caught him easily, laughter soft and genuine, arms wrapping around him as if this were the most natural thing in the world. She kissed his forehead once, fingers threading briefly through his silver hair.
Being a child had its advantages.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"Yes," he said immediately.
She smiled.
"Then look."
She lifted him gently and turned him toward the open window.
Below them, the Court was alive.
Today's banquet had drawn guests from across the continent and beyond. Courtyards overflowed with figures that barely resembled the mortals of his old life. Tai Lung had watched them before, fascinated and faintly unsettled.
Now he looked carefully.
"Mother," he said after a moment, choosing honesty over flattery, "they look… strange."
Tan Na Yu's eyes gleamed with approval.
"Yes," she said. "They do."
Most people did not look human at all.
Some men towered over the courtyards, three meters tall, four, even more. Their bodies were massive, yet refined – muscles layered like armor, proportions subtly wrong. They knew their flesh would not fail them.
The women – especially those of the Eternal Spring Court – were something else entirely. They all looked not just like supermodels, but literally as the wettest dream of a thirsty teenage boy at the peak of puberty.
Tan Na Yu's finger rose.
"Today," she said, "you begin the Tempered Flesh stage."
He stiffened slightly.
"This stage is long," she continued calmly. "And painful. Its purpose is simple – to make your body no longer mortal. To prepare it for what comes after."
She pointed toward a massive figure near the central pavilion.
"That one," she said. "Tiger path. Likely carries a tiger bloodline."
Tai Lung squinted.
The man was enormous – over five meters tall, muscle dense but lean, his presence predatory even at rest.
"Notice," his mother said, "the expanded ribcage. Forward-set shoulders. Reinforced clavicles. His body is built to absorb impact and deliver force."
Her finger shifted.
"And that group."
Tai Lung followed her gesture to ten men moving together, their steps synchronized without effort.
"Wolf path," she said. "Digitigrade muscle tension. Elongated Achilles tendons. Predatory posture. They cultivate together because their techniques demand it."
She pointed again.
"That one is Crane."
A tall, slender man stood apart, movements light, almost unreal.
"Hollowed bones," Tan Na Yu said. "Expanded scapular rotation. Inhuman balance. He could stand on a feather's edge and not sway."
They continued like that.
Animal paths. Martial deities. Demon bodies. Ascetics whose flesh looked carved from stone. One man resembled a literal walking mountain, his muscles layered so thickly they distorted gravity around him.
Tai Lung listened closely.
Tan Na Yu let her hand fall.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Below, the banquet flowed on – music, laughter, the soft collision of cultivated egos – but her attention was wholly on the child in her arms.
"Before you take a single step," she said at last, "you must understand why most cultivators fail."
Tai Lung nodded seriously. He was four years old. He did not fidget.
She found this… promising.
"Cultivation is not climbing," she continued. "It is threading a path. Once you walk it, most other roads close forever."
She turned him slightly so he could see her face.
"This is why techniques matter more than talent."
She raised two fingers.
"An earthly technique," she said, "is designed to push you through one stage. Perhaps part of one. For example – Tempered Flesh."
She gestured toward the courtyard again.
"Such a technique hardens muscle, densifies bone, thickens organs. You become stronger. Faster. Harder to kill. But when you reach Breath Alignment, that same body becomes a prison."
Tai Lung frowned. "Why?"
"Because your flesh was shaped without regard for breathing rhythms," she replied calmly. "Your lungs expand incorrectly. Your diaphragm resists qi sensing. Most Breath Alignment manuals will reject you outright."
She paused.
"So you search for another technique. One that fits. But the way you tempered your body has already made you incompatible with ninety percent of them."
Her voice was gentle.
"This is how people become stuck. Progress slows. Or stops entirely."
Tai Lung's eyes widened slightly.
"And geniuses?" he asked.
Tan Na Yu smiled faintly.
"Geniuses go forward because they adapt. They feel where the technique clashes with their body. They adjust posture, rhythm, and intent. They do not follow manuals – they… negotiate with them."
She brushed a finger against his chest.
"That is why geniuses move faster. Not because they are stronger – but because they waste less of their future."
She straightened.
"Mythical techniques," she continued, "are different. They are not built for stages. They are built for lifetimes. A single manual may guide you from Tempered Flesh to Immortality. Divine techniques – true ones – can, in theory, carry someone all the way to godhood."
Her gaze hardened.
"This is why clans exist. This is why power concentrates. Immortal founders have already threaded a path through reality. Their descendants walk roads that have been tested."
She let that sink in.
Then she spoke again, slower now – as if reciting something sacred.
Tan Na Yu did not begin with names.
She tapped a finger lightly against his chest.
"Every step you take changes what steps remain possible. This is not climbing a ladder. It is like building a road while walking on it."
Then, slowly and methodically, she began to explain how that road was divided.
The Cultivation RealmsMORTAL ARC (Stages 1–4)
Tempered Flesh (炼体境): The body is strengthened – muscle, bone, organs, pain tolerance.
Failure: Overtraining, internal damage, arrogance.
Breath Alignment (调息境): Learning to sense ambient energy without absorbing it.
Failure: Forcing qi too early and crippling oneself.
Meridian Opening (通脉境): Opening the energy channels. Painful. Permanent.
Failure: Uneven meridians that cause lifelong bottlenecks.
Qi Intake (纳气境): First true absorption of qi.
Failure: Greed – taking in more than the body can stabilize.
FOUNDATION ARC (Stages 5–8)
Circulation Control (行气境): Qi flow becomes conscious and precise.
Failure: Sloppy circulation that corrupts everything afterward.
Core Condensation (凝元境): Formation of the cultivation core.
Failure: Fragile cores that shatter under pressure.
Core Structuring (塑核境): Designing the internal architecture of the core.
Failure: Most never realize structure exists at all.
Foundation Completion (筑基境): Your foundation is locked.
Failure: Weak foundations doom every higher realm.
ASCENSION ARC (Stages 9–12)
Soul Ignition (燃魂境): The soul awakens and becomes active.
Failure: Madness. Soul erosion. Heart demons.
Domain Awareness (领域境): Influence over space, pressure, and intent.
Failure: Trying to dominate others instead of oneself.
Law Contact (触法境): First brush with universal laws.
Failure: Trying to understand instead of survive.
Law Integration (融法境): Partial internalization of a law.
Failure: Identity collapse. Ego death.
IMMORTAL ARC (Stages 13–15)
Immortal Threshold (踏仙境): True longevity begins. Aging becomes irrelevant.
Failure: Heaven notices you.
Immortal Form (真仙境): The body is reconstructed to house a law-infused soul.
Failure: Mismatch between soul and form.
Immortal Authority (仙权境): Limited enforcement of reality.
Failure: Heaven reacts to overreach.
GODHOOD ARC (Stages 16–17)
Conceptual Existence (概念境): You represent something, not merely exist.
Failure: Becoming a tool of Heaven.
Autonomous Godhood (自神境): A god independent of Heaven's authority.
Failure: Heaven attempts erasure.
Tan Na Yu fell silent.
Then she looked at him – not as an Elder, not as an Immortal, but as a mother.
"This," she said softly, "is why your technique must be perfect from the beginning."
Tai Lung met her gaze.
And for the first time since his rebirth, he felt something close to awe. Not of the cultivation itself. But at the scale of the game he had entered.