The New World

After he stopped crying, Xing Chen found himself standing amidst an otherworldly landscape of breathtaking beauty. Towering trees stretched skyward, their canopies so high they seemed to touch the very stars. Rivers wound through the land, their waters shimmering with hues of gold and silver, casting radiant reflections that danced across his face. Each breath he took filled him with a strange, invigorating energy. The night sky was a tapestry of countless stars, their light bathing him in a gentle, ethereal glow, while a cool breeze whispered softly around him.

"Where am I?" he whispered to himself, eyes wide with wonder and confusion. Turning around, he noticed an ancient temple gate nearby. It was adorned with a dark-gold insignia depicting a creature strikingly similar to the dragons he'd seen illustrated in old books. Beyond the gate stood a majestic three-story pagoda, its silhouette hinting at a bygone era of splendour. Yet, the structure was in ruins—crumbling walls and broken pillars told a story of destruction. Oddly, the significant dragon sculptures and sacred insignia remained untouched, preserved as if out of reverence.

Despite the enchanting surroundings, a deep sorrow weighed heavily on Xing Chen's heart. The recent loss of his grandparents pressed upon him like a crushing weight. The memory of his grandfather's anguished face caused his chest to tighten. "Grandpa, Grandma... why did this happen?" he murmured, his voice barely audible. Tears welled up in his eyes as he clenched his fists. "How dare someone hurt you! If only I had been stronger, I could have protected you."

Anger mingled with his grief. "It's all because I'm weak," he thought bitterly. "I've lived an easy life, oblivious to the dangers outside. I never knew something like this could happen." He gazed up at the starlit sky, frustration etched on his face. "How am I supposed to survive in this unknown land? How can I become strong enough to avenge you?"

Questions raced through his mind. What secrets had his grandparents concealed from him? Were there truths they believed he wasn't ready to face? "They must have kept things from me," he thought. "But why? Did they think I was too young or not strong enough?"

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "No, thinking about this won't help me now. I need to focus on what's next. There must be a reason my grandpa sent me here. It's the only way to move forward." With determination, Xing Chen walked toward the pagoda. Even in decay, the craftsmanship was evident; it must have been magnificent when intact.

He wandered through the remnants, past overgrown grasses and scattered debris. The silence was palpable, broken only by the soft crunch of his footsteps. "This place... it's so lonely," he thought.

Fatigue began to settle into his bones. "I need to rest, this is an unknown land running here and there while I am still emotionally unstable will bring me nothing," he decided. "Tomorrow, I'll figure out what to do next." He found a sheltered corner within the ruins and sat down, leaning against a moss-covered wall. The weight of the day's events pressed heavily upon him.

As he closed his eyes, the traumatic images of his grandparents' struggle flashed before him—the violence he'd never imagined possible. "I can't believe they're gone," he whispered, a tear slipping down his cheek. "And I couldn't do anything to help."

Sleep overtook him swiftly, pulling him into a restless dream. He found himself back at home, laughter filling the air as he shared a meal with his grandparents. Their faces were warm and full of love. "This feels so real," he thought, smiling despite himself.

But suddenly, the sky darkened, and a shadowy figure emerged, reaching out to snatch his grandparents away. "No!" Xing Chen shouted, jumping to his feet. "I won't let you take them!"

He stood between the intruder and his grandparents, arms outstretched. "I'll protect you," he declared. But as he moved to confront the threat, his body felt heavy, as if anchored to the ground. The world around him began to blur. "What's happening?" Panic surged through him. "Why can't I move?"

A crushing sense of powerlessness descended upon him. "I'm too weak," he realised, despair washing over him. "I can't do anything."

Just as he was about to succumb to hopelessness, a soft glow caught his attention. Turning, he saw the same book from the library—the one filled with mysterious writings. It hovered in the air, its pages flipping open before him, blank yet beckoning. "The book..." he whispered, reaching out. "How can it be here? Maybe it has something to do with all this..."

As Xing Chen reached for the mysterious book, his hand brushed against something soft and unexpectedly warm. Confusion clouded his mind. "What is this?" he thought, the sensation both comforting and perplexing, pulling him deeper into the enigma of his own dream.

Just as he was beginning to lose himself in the strange softness, a sharp sting on his left cheek jolted him awake. "Ow!" he exclaimed, bringing a hand to his face. Blinking rapidly, he found himself staring at those eyes which he would never forget or to say he could never forget. She was undeniably beautiful—her long, graceful neck, her well-proportioned figure, and a waist that was neither too slim nor too full. Everything about her was mesmerising.

For a moment, Xing Chen felt his face flush, warmth spreading from his cheeks down to his neck. Then he realised that his hand was still resting on something... something soft. His eyes widened in horror as he looked down to see his hand placed squarely on the girl's chest. "Oh no," he thought, panic surging through him.

The girl fixed him with an icy gaze that could have frozen a volcano. Realising the gravity of the situation, Xing Chen yanked his hand back as if he'd touched fire. "I-I'm so sorry!" he stammered, bowing repeatedly. "It was an accident, I swear!"

She raised an eyebrow, a mix of irritation and amusement flickering across her face. Dressed in a purple top that complemented her eyes and a matching skirt that fluttered in the breeze, she looked both enchanting and elegant. The outfit highlighted her natural beauty, but at this moment, Xing Chen was too mortified to appreciate it fully.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here? " she demanded, crossing her arms.

"I... I didn't mean to intrude," he managed to say. "I just... woke up here. Honestly!"

"Woke up here?" She questioned clearly not believing him. "Well, you're certainly off to a great start," she said drily.

Despite the awkwardness, there was something weird about the situation. Xing Chen couldn't help but think."Why were all the bad things happening to him today?" he mused internally.

Amidst the tension, a small chuckle escaped the girl. "You look ridiculous," she said, shaking her head. "But then I suppose you are not from this world, are you?"

Listening that Xing Chen was panicked and shocked, just as he was about to answer,"No need to answer, I will not be looking into that as that is not what I do." she said.

She glanced around at the ruined pagoda. "This place isn't safe. Especially not for someone who sleeps so soundly they mistake a person for a pillow."

Listening that Xing Chen released the breath that he did not even knew that he was holding. He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. "I didn't exactly plan on being here."

"Clearly," she replied. "What's your name?"

"Xing Chen," he answered. "And you?"

A hint of a smile played on her lips. "You can call me Mei Hua."

"Mei Hua," he repeated, the name feeling familiar yet foreign on his tongue.

"Well, Xing Chen, since you seem lost," she said with a teasing glint in her eye, "perhaps I can help you—provided you keep your hands to yourself."

His face turned a shade redder. "Yes, of course! Absolutely!"

She laughed lightly, the sound like a bell tinkling in the night. "Come on then. Let's get out of here before anything else happens."

"It seems you're truly unaware of where you are," Mei Hua said, her voice calm but her eyes reflecting a hint of curiosity. They stood beneath the ancient archway of the Temple, the moonlight casting silvery shadows around them. "This is the Temple Of the Ancients. Its not a place where everyone can reach. It's said that only those who had close relations to the Ancients or were lost in their way of life find their way to this place."

She paused, her gaze steady on Xing Chen. "So, how did you find yours?"

Xing Chen shifted hi gaze uncomfortably, his mind swirling with confusion and unanswered questions. The truth was, he didn't know how he had ended up here. The last thing he remembered was the chaotic escape and the loss of his grandparents. The weight of grief pressed upon him, rendering him speechless. He looked down, avoiding her piercing gaze, and remained silent.

Mei Hua raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on her lips. "It's alright if you don't want to say anything," she continued, her tone softening. "Perhaps you're lost and are searching for something, maybe you'll find it here."

He glanced up at her, surprised by the gentleness in her voice. "Maybe," he murmured, barely audible.

"Come on," she said, turning toward a narrow path that led into the forest. "It's safer if we stick together. This place is supposed to be very dangerous you know."

They walked side by side along the winding trail, the forest around them alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. The leaves whispered secrets as a gentle breeze rustled through them. The canopy above was a mosaic of intertwined branches, allowing glimpses of the star-studded sky. Moonlight filtered through, casting ethereal patterns on the ground.

Xing Chen couldn't help but steal glances at Mei Hua. There was something enigmatic about her—an air of mystery that both intrigued and unsettled him. "Have you been here before?" he ventured to ask.

She nodded slowly. "It has been my home from a very long time," she replied.

"What exactly is this place?" he asked, curiously.

She glanced at him, her eyes reflecting the faint glow of the moon. "Its a lost piece of the lost heavens. It appears when it chooses to."

He pondered her words, thinking about his own sudden arrival. He was still confused with all the things that she said but nonetheless he asked."What's a lost peace of heavens? Who are the Ancients? Why was I teleported here? It appears when it chooses to ? Does that mean I was brought here rather than intentionally coming here?"

Xing Chen was really confused with all that was happening. What does she mean by saying that it appears when it chooses to, didn't I come here because of the ring that my grandpa gave me? Why is she being so ambiguous, he mused internally. 

 "Only you should know what the reason of you coming here really is."

As Xing Chen drifted into his thoughts, Mei Hua's eyes lingered on the ring adorning his finger, a shadow of intrigue flickering across her face.

As they continued walking, the sound of flowing water grew louder. The trees parted to reveal a serene river, its surface shimmering like liquid silver under the moonlight. A quaint wooden bridge arched gracefully over the water.

Mei Hua stepped onto the bridge, the wood creaking softly beneath her feet. Xing Chen followed, the cool mist from the river brushing against his face. Halfway across, he paused to gaze at the water below. Tiny ripples distorted the reflection of the stars, creating a mesmerising dance of light.

"It's beautiful," he whispered.

"It is," Mei Hua agreed, her voice carrying a distant note. She was already at the far end of the bridge, waiting for him.

He hurried to catch up, but as he stepped off the bridge and turned to look back, his breath caught in his throat. The forest, the path they had just walked—all of it had vanished. In its place stretched an open meadow bathed in moonlight, swaying gently with tall grasses.

"What... where did the forest go?" Xing Chen exclaimed, spinning around in disbelief. "This doesn't make any sense!"

He looked to Mei Hua for answers, but she was nowhere to be seen. "Mei Hua?" he called out. "Mei Hua!"She was nowhere to be found.

Silence answered him. The night was still, save for the distant chirping of crickets and the soft rustle of the meadow.

Panic began to set in. "This can't be happening," he muttered, his heart pounding. "Did I imagine her? Was she even real?

Xing Chen was utterly confused. Today had been full of more surprises than he had ever experienced in his entire life. Mei Hua's sudden disappearance left him unsettled—he thought he had finally found a friend in this strange new world, only for her to vanish before he could truly know her.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. "Alright, focus," he muttered to himself. "The temple, the vanishing forest, Mei Hua... This world is bizarre. It might actually be like one of those supernatural realms I used to read about in my books."

He remembered the beautiful woman he had been with earlier. There was something about her, something unusual, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"Grandpa sent me here, likely because the lineage he spoke of is hidden somewhere in this world," he reasoned to himself. "He had his reasons for all of this. Now, I just need to find my own path forward."

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Meanwhile, far away in the depths of the eastern galactic region, where the fabric of space-time was unstable. A rift had torn open, crackling with purple thunder, illuminating the dark void with arcs of otherworldly lightning. Within the rift lay an entire world, hidden from mortal eyes—a realm where ancient civilisations thrived, untouched by time. It was a land of legends, where myths breathed and walked.

Mythical beasts of all kinds roamed this realm, from mighty dragons that soared through the sky, their scales shimmering like polished gemstones, to the elusive Kun Peng, whose wings spanned the heavens, stirring up gales with a single flap. At the heart of this world stood a colossal city, its grandeur defying imagination. Majestic spires reached for the sky, adorned with flowing celestial inscriptions that glowed faintly, as if whispering secrets from ages long past. The streets below, paved with rare celestial jade, pulsed with the rhythmic energy of the world's very life force.

Within one of the most imposing structures—an ethereal palace veiled in mist—a woman suddenly opened her eyes. She was a vision of beauty so striking it seemed almost otherworldly, her features sculpted with an exquisite elegance that defied human limitations. If Xing Chen had been there, he would have recognised her instantly; she was none other than Mei Hua, the mysterious figure who had vanished without a trace.

"So... one of my clones chose to erase herself," Mei Hua murmured, her voice a melody of intrigue. "To help someone, no less. How curious... It appears that someone from that ancient lineage has resurfaced at the ruins of the Ancient Temple." Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous light as she tilted her head slightly, a wry smile curling upon her lips. "Consider this a favour, then. But how will you repay me, I wonder?" She chuckled softly, the sound as ephemeral as mist dispersing in the dawn. "If they knew... if those old forces realised someone from that bloodline had returned to this world, they'd tear the heavens apart to find him. Since I've intervened, I shall go a step further—I will cloak the heavenly secrets."

With a deliberate grace, she pressed two fingers against her forehead. A flicker of purple flame ignited between her brows, casting an otherworldly glow across her pale features. As the flame danced, it began to twist and writhe, revealing an image within: Xing Chen's silhouette, faint but unmistakable, a shimmering character seal etched upon his brow.

The flame suddenly vanished, extinguished in an instant, and Mei Hua gasped, her eyes streaming with blood as though the very act had cost her dearly. Her face grew ashen, but her smile never faltered.

"The karma surrounding him is... immense," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as though speaking from another realm. "Even I cannot unravel the threads of his past or glimpse the future that awaits him. All I can do is shroud him from the gaze of those who would seek him... for now. That should be enough to keep them at bay, at least for a while."

She leaned back, closing her eyes once more as her laughter echoed softly throughout the chamber, a haunting and beautiful sound. "Surprise me, Xing Chen... Give me a spectacle worth watching. This world is on the brink of chaos, and I will be here to witness it all unfold."

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While Xing Chen who was trying to out what he should do next, noticed a faint glow—the warm, flickering lights of what appeared to be a town. A path seemed to unfold before him, illuminated by the gentle glow of fireflies dancing along the way.

"Well, standing here won't do me any good," he said aloud, trying to summon courage. "I guess I should head towards my next destination."

As he began walking, a mix of emotions churned within him—uncertainty, apprehension, but also a glimmer of hope. He couldn't shake the feeling that his encounter with Mei Hua was significant, that she was more than she appeared.

"Who are you really, Mei Hua?" he wondered. "And why do I feel like our paths will cross again?"

The meadow gradually gave way to cultivated fields, and the source of the light grew clearer—distant voices, the rhythmic clanging of a blacksmith at work even at this late hour.

Approaching the light, Xing Chen noticed it was a small Town with lanterns hanging from the eaves of quaint cottages, their soft light casting welcoming shadows. The scent of baked bread and wood smoke filled the air.

A middle-aged man carrying a bundle of firewood noticed him. "Good evening, young man!" he called out warmly. "You're out late. Are you a traveller?"

"Yes, I suppose I am," Xing Chen replied, offering a small bow. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"Not at all," the man said with a friendly smile. "We don't get many visitors these days, its rare to encounter one."

After a brief conversation, the woodcutter decided to lead the way for Xing Chen, realising it was his first time in the town. As Xing Chen followed him through the winding alleys, the scent of wood smoke and freshly baked bread filled the air. It was a peaceful night, yet there was a subtle energy humming beneath the quiet town's surface—something that left Xing Chen feeling both intrigued and slightly out of place.

The woodcutter, with his bundle of firewood balanced over his shoulder, walked at a casual pace, occasionally greeting passersby with a nod or a wave. Despite the calm, Xing Chen's mind was racing, piecing together all that he had seen and heard since arriving in this strange world. The concept of cultivation had been dancing at the edge of his thoughts, and he couldn't ignore his growing curiosity any longer.

After a few moments of silence, Xing Chen finally worked up the courage to ask, "So... have you ever heard of cultivation?"

The woodcutter suddenly stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Xing Chen with wide, almost incredulous eyes. His lips twitched as though he were fighting the urge to laugh, and his eyebrows raised so high they practically disappeared into his hairline. For a moment, he just stared at Xing Chen, as if trying to figure out whether the young man was joking or simply an idiot.

"Have I heard of cultivation?" the woodcutter repeated, his voice heavy with disbelief. He burst out laughing, slapping his thigh with a loud guffaw. "Lad, that's like asking if I've ever heard of the sky! Of course I've heard of it! Who hasn't? It's every man's dream to be a cultivator!"

Xing Chen blinked, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks. "I—uh—just thought I'd ask. It seems... important."

The woodcutter grinned, shaking his head as if Xing Chen had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. "Important? Lad, cultivation is everything. It's not just important—it's life itself! If you can cultivate, you're set. If you can't…" He shrugged, a wry smile on his face. "Well, you end up like me. Gathering firewood in the middle of the night."

They continued walking, the woodcutter chuckling to himself as they passed a small group of men loitering outside a tavern. The clinking of mugs and the low hum of conversation drifted into the street, and one of the men nodded respectfully to the woodcutter as they passed.

Hearing this, Xing Chen's thoughts raced. So, it's real. At least now I know this world is just like the stories I read in my books. But then... does the same cultivation system apply here? Were all those books I devoured actually true? If that's the case, what exactly is my family's secret? How do they possess so much cultivation knowledge in a world where cultivation supposedly doesn't exist?

A sudden realisation struck him, and his heart pounded with a mix of excitement and disbelief. Wait... does this mean I can actually cultivate the techniques I always thought were useless fantasies?

His mind reeled at the possibilities, and a shiver ran down his spine. Shi Shen, Long Wei, Godly Monarch Lei Shen, Demon Feather Mo Yu, Star Executioner of Yama Xing Tu... could they all truly exist? The legendary figures from his books, once mere myths and names on a page, now seemed to loom large in his mind, as if challenging him to uncover the truth.

Xing Chen, still intrigued, pressed further. "So, everyone wants to be a cultivator, then? Is it really that common?"

The woodcutter gave him a sidelong glance, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Common? Hah! That's a bit of a stretch. Most people want to be cultivators, sure. But whether they can actually become one? That's another story entirely." He shifted the firewood on his shoulder and continued in a more thoughtful tone. "It's not as simple as just picking up a manual and deciding you're going to cultivate."

Xing Chen nodded, feeling like he was getting closer to understanding this strange world. "So... how does someone start? How does cultivation even work?"

The woodcutter's expression softened, and he glanced at Xing Chen with a touch more seriousness now. "Well, it starts with the Bone Forging Realm. That's where everyone begins—at least, if the're lucky enough to have a spirit root."

Xing Chen's thoughts swirled in confusion. Bone forging? I've never read about that. He had come across several manuals on starting as a cultivator, but most of them described cultivation beginning with the formation of the dantian. There were also some that mentioned alternative paths, like soul cultivation or focusing on a specific part of the body. But bone forging was completely new to him.

Wait, there was one book that talked about body strengthening as the first step, followed by spirit formation and then dantian development, he recalled. Still, why is the cultivation system so inconsistent? It puzzled him that there didn't seem to be a single, universal path. Could this place be one of those distant galaxies where a body forging cultivation system is the norm?

And then there was the matter of the spirit root. What's with the spirit root? he wondered, his curiosity deepening. Is it the same kind of spirit root I've read about, or does it mean something entirely different here?

The more he thought about it, the more questions arose, and a sense of urgency stirred within him to unravel the mysteries of this unfamiliar world.

"Spirit root?" Xing Chen asked.

The woodcutter nodded. "Aye, a spirit root. Without it, you can't even begin to cultivate. It's the thing that lets you absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth —the energy that flows through everything. No spirit root, no cultivation. Doesn't matter how many manuals you read or how hard you train."

So, it really is the same spirit root I've read about, Xing Chen realised, a mix of curiosity and scepticism stirring within him. The one that supposedly determines if someone can absorb Qi and cultivate. But the woodcutter seems convinced that without a spirit root, cultivation is impossible... Xing Chen knew that wasn't entirely true. I've come across many texts that mention alternative cultivation paths—methods that don't require a spirit root at all. It seems like this knowledge isn't common here, at least not to him.

Seeking to clarify further, Xing Chen asked, "So... just how common are these spirit roots?"

The woodcutter let out a small, mirthless chuckle. "Not very. About one person in ten thousand has a spirit root. And even if you have one, there are different tiers—some roots are stronger, some are weaker. The stronger your root, the faster you can absorb Qi, and the quicker you can advance through the stages."

Xing Chen stared at the ground as they walked, his mind swirling with this new information. "So... only one in ten thousand?"

The woodcutter sighed. "That's right. Most people here—myself included—we don't have spirit roots. We live normal lives, do normal jobs. And those that do have spirit roots? Well, they're usually snapped up by the sects or recruited by the Town Chief's estate."

Looks like I am in one of the lower planes, cultivation is very harsh here.

Xing Chen glanced around at the people passing by, now more aware of how significant cultivation must be to the fabric of this world. "And once someone has a spirit root, what happens next?"

"Well," the woodcutter replied, shifting his firewood again, "once you've got a spirit root, you can start with the Bone Forging Realm. You get a manual for that in the market—it's cheap, only a few silver coins. Anyone with a spirit root can follow it and start strengthening their bones, toughening them up. The first stage is all about laying the foundation, making your bones strong enough to handle more power later on."

"And how many stages are there?" Xing Chen asked.

"Five stages to Bone Forging," the woodcutter replied. "By the time you reach the fourth stage, your bones are as tough as iron, and that's when you can start thinking about serious martial arts. Most people don't make it beyond the third stage, though. It's not just about training—it takes resources, too. Pills, elixirs, time. Not easy to come by for most folk."

Xing Chen couldn't help but notice the similarities to the body strengthening method he had read about, where the body is cultivated first, followed by the spirit. In this approach, the cultivator is able to build a solid foundation for forming the dantian. This seems like a simpler version of that technique, he thought. It focuses solely on the bones rather than the entire body. But then again, not everyone would be able to gather the resources needed for full body strengthening. It seemed to him that someone had altered the original method, tailoring a more accessible version for the masses.

As they turned a corner, approaching a quieter part of the town, the woodcutter glanced at Xing Chen, noticing the distant look in his eyes.

"Something on your mind, lad?" he asked, his voice a little gentler now.

Xing Chen hesitated, his thoughts racing. "Oh, it's nothing... I was just thinking how hard cultivation really is."

The woodcutter let out a soft chuckle. "Aye, that it is. But it's a pity, isn't it? Most of us will never even get the chance to truly experience it."

They walked in silence for a moment before Xing Chen asked the question that had been budging him. "And how do people find out if they have a spirit root?"

The woodcutter smiled knowingly. "Ah, that's the tricky part. Some families possess special spirit stones that can detect spirit roots. You see, if you have a spirit root, you're born with it, and even if it's just a faint trace, your body will naturally absorb a bit of the Qi from heaven and earth. When you touch the spirit stone and hold it for a while, it will start to glow. The brightness of the glow indicates the grade of your spirit root—the more intense the light, the stronger the root. But without one of these stones, most people only discover it through trial and error. You attempt to cultivate, and if you feel the Qi flowing into you, then congratulations—you've got a spirit root. If not... well, it's back to chopping wood."

Xing Chen laughed, the tension in his chest easing slightly. "So, if I wanted to... I could just buy a manual and try it?"

This was great news. Xing Chen didn't know for certain whether he had a spirit root, but he had noticed that ever since arriving in this world, his body felt a bit stronger—even without practising any cultivation techniques. That's got to mean I have a spirit root, he reasoned, a sense of confidence building within him. That will make things much easier.

With this newfound certainty, his mind shifted to the next step. Now, I just need to find a place to cultivate and test out my theories.

The woodcutter nodded, his grin returning. "Exactly! But don't be surprised if you don't get far without a spirit root. Still, it's worth a shot, right? Maybe you'll be the one in ten thousand."

Xing Chen smiled at the old man's optimism, though he had now a better understanding of this world . He was in a world where cultivation determined everything.

As they neared the town square, the lanterns glowing softly in the distance, Xing Chen glanced up at the stars overhead. The night sky seemed vast and full of possibilities, much like the path that now lay before him.