At first glance, this world looked no different from any other cultivation world.
Sects stood atop mountains, spiritual energy filled the air, and strength decided everything.
Cultivators spent decades—sometimes centuries—refining their bodies, tempering their souls, and chasing realms that most would never reach.
Cultivation was supreme.
That rule had never changed.
The only difference lay in the details people rarely talked about.
In this world, women were often the ones who took the initiative.
They pursued men openly. They spoke their interest without hesitation. If someone had talent, potential, or strength, attention followed naturally—regardless of gender.
It wasn't strange here.
It was simply how things worked.
Lin Yuan had learned that lesson early.
He woke before dawn, as he always did.
The wooden ceiling above him was familiar.He didn't need to look to know where he was. Eighteen years in this world had trained his instincts well.
Eighteen years already…
He didn't dwell on his past life much anymore. The memories were still there—clear enough—but they no longer carried weight. The modern world felt distant, like a story he once read.
He sat up and let his breathing settle.
Spiritual energy flowed calmly within his body, restrained and precise. He kept it that way deliberately. In a world where cultivation improvements took decades, even a small irregularity could draw attention.
He had no interest in that
.
Lin Yuan washed his face, tied his white hair behind his head, and changed into plain robes. The mirror reflected a young man with calm golden eyes and an expression far more composed than his appearance suggested.
He looked young.
Very young.
In this world, that only meant one thing—people would assume talent.
And talent invited trouble.
When he stepped outside, Cloud Stream Sect was already awake.
Disciples moved along the stone paths, most of them still stuck at Qi Condensation despite years of effort. Foundation Establishment cultivators were rare, usually inner disciples who had lived for decades—or more.
Cultivation here was slow.
Painfully slow.
That was why Lin Yuan stood out.
He walked through the sect calmly, ignoring the occasional glances thrown his way.
"Is that him?"
"Yeah. The disciple Elder Shen Cang brought back two years ago."
"Still looks young…"
"Late Foundation already. Monsters like that shouldn't exist."
A group of female disciples passed by nearby. One of them slowed slightly, stealing a glance at him before nudging her companion and whispering something.
Lin Yuan noticed.
He always did.
This world really doesn't waste time, he thought mildly.
Eighteen years was enough to understand the pattern.
In his previous life, relationships were slow, indirect, full of hesitation. Here, interest was straightforward. If someone found you appealing—whether for your looks, strength, or potential—they acted.
Not aggressively. Not shamelessly.
Just directly.
Lin Yuan didn't find it uncomfortable anymore.
Just exhausting.
Cultivation takes centuries, he reminded himself. This kind of thing can wait.
He headed toward the upper peaks to visit his master.
Halfway up the mountain path, an old man stood waiting, hands clasped behind his back.
"Junior Nephew Lin."
Lin Yuan stopped and bowed politely. "Elder Mo."
Elder Mo was a Core Formation cultivator, one of the sect's elders. His cultivation was deep, his aura steady. Someone who had lived far longer than Lin Yuan appeared to be.
"You're heading to see Elder Shen again?" Elder Mo asked.
"Yes."
Elder Mo smiled faintly. "He treats you differently from other disciples."
Lin Yuan didn't deny it. "Master values efficiency."
They walked together for a short distance.
Elder Mo suddenly slowed. "Your aura feels… heavier today."
Lin Yuan glanced around. The path was empty.
He answered honestly. "I've reached half-step Nascent Soul."
Elder Mo stopped completely.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he exhaled slowly. "I see."
No shouting. No disbelief.
Just a quiet acceptance from someone who understood how terrifying that statement truly was.
"At your apparent age," Elder Mo said calmly, "this defies reason."
"I'm suppressing it," Lin Yuan replied. "I don't intend to break through."
Elder Mo looked at him sharply. "You understand what would happen if you did?"
"Yes."
Another silence.
Finally, Elder Mo said, "This conversation never happened."
Lin Yuan nodded. "That would be best."
Elder Mo laughed quietly. "You young… no. Never mind. Go. Don't keep him waiting."
Lin Yuan continued upward, leaving the stunned elder behind.
Shen Cang's courtyard was quiet as always.
No guards. No visible formations. Nothing that suggested how dangerous the man inside truly was.
"You're late," Shen Cang said without opening his eyes.
"I met Elder Mo."
"I know," Shen Cang replied. "You leaked pressure."
"Barely."
"Still sloppy."
Lin Yuan sat down across from him. "I told him."
Shen Cang opened one eye. "And he survived?"
"He handled it."
Shen Cang snorted. "Good."
Lin Yuan poured himself tea. "Master, after eighteen years… I understand this world now."
"Oh?"
"It looks ordinary," Lin Yuan said calmly. "But the rules are different."
"Socially."
"Yes."
Shen Cang smirked. "And?"
"And none of it matters," Lin Yuan continued. "Cultivation still stands above everything."
Shen Cang nodded. "Correct."
They sat in silence for a moment.
Then Shen Cang spoke again. "As long as you remember that, you'll be fine."
Lin Yuan looked out toward the distant peaks.
A normal cultivation world.
With one small difference.
And a quiet cultivator who intended to remain unnoticed for as long as possible.