The Beginning

Now I am Fourteen. Four years until high school graduation. Last time, college got ripped away—parents gone. Now? Reborn. Should I scream some cheesy line like "Heaven can't hold me! God can't control me, and my fate is up to me!"? Ugh, even my brain cringes. I think teenage hormones are melting my dignity.

Cultivation plans? Please. Every online novel trope: meditate under a tree, hit Qi Level 1 overnight, then play wise hermit. Cure some rich guy's gout, get cash, fake being a big shot. Maybe snag a fiancée who's secretly a hidden master, or physique found once in a millennium and happily ever after. So predictable. Ah..., I want to see who invented this ridiculous brain circuit?

If it were that easy, I'd have been Immortal Emperor by prom. Reality? Cultivations like cramming for the world's worst exam. Ten years memorizing every vein, pore, and pressure point. Then another decade just to start body conditioning for qi training. Each level? even more incomprehensively difficult than the last. Finding immortal fate in this barren land? There is none. Without spirit qi, human bodies won't evolve to accommodate it.

People here have absolute waste body for external energy absorption. There is a concept of martial veins, however. Coming to the people around me, there is another dilemma.

But this timeline's new. Xu Qing hasn't betrayed me yet. Zhao Lin's still a brat with money. Hating them now feels… weird. Like blaming a puppy for growing into a jerk dog. Can I blame the puppy for the possibility? Moreover, I won't give any chance of that happening again, so what exactly I should feel enmity with them for?

My years of training told me to silence them before they become powerful. When her new boyfriend came, she kept me on the edge. Treating me as if I am a free ATM and engaging in shameless play behind me. But looking now:

Xu Qing giggled with her friends by the lockers. Her ponytail swung, flawless as ever. Ignore her? Nah—she'd sniff out the change. Stick to the script.

After class, I lingered at the exit with Fan Qing, he rambled about new mobile games while I half-listened, my mind cataloging differences from memory to all things happened. Xu Qing strutted over, backpack dangling. "Chen-er! Ready for the mall? You promised."

"Did I?" I rubbed my neck. "Uh… stomachache. Maybe next time?"

She rolled her eyes. "You? Sick? Try harder." The bus screeched up. She plopped on seat beside me, perfume smacking my nose—vanilla and spite.

"Qing-er," I said, staring ahead.

"Hmm?"

"What's your dream? Like… future stuff."

She tapped the smudged window, watching suburban shops blur past.

"CEO. No, pop star. No—" Her eyes narrowed. "Why? Planning my future for me?"

"Entrepreneur," I offered. "Start a company."

Her snort fogged the glass. "Don't worry, I'll hire you as my coffee boy when I'm famous."

The bus lurched. Her shoulder bumped mine. I didn't flinch.

Home. My room—same peeling K-pop posters, same dusty desk. I flopped onto the bed. The same comfort. Four years. Four years to outrun fate, outsmart the main family, out… whatever.

Outside, kids shrieked on bikes, children's battering and sound of vehicles. Peaceful times.

Meeting my first parents was a tearful event, yet I managed to hide my emotions well. Despite the sorrow of our reunion, I remember those years with them were some of the most free and easygoing of my life.

Even as we shared dinner and spent time together, I found a few precious moments to myself—a brief pause that brought an unconscious, happy smile to my face. Maybe they have sensed something off about me and concerned my mother held me in her arms. I felt something broke in my mind, I couldn't figure out what it was, but it made me feel free and unshackled.

But my true focus lay elsewhere: quietly gaining power to unlock my artifact. To achieve this, I needed to cultivate internal energy and sharpen my spiritual sense. I had hoped that some spiritual energy might be present, but after sensing all day, I detected not a speck. This meant I lacked energy veins altogether just like any other—my body simply had no need to channel spiritual energy. If this is in the cultivation world, that would make my situation even worse than that of ordinary mortals.

At least martial arts run in this world. I knew from my family that my mother is in transform jin and my father had reached the dark jin realm—a fact I confirmed through their system profiles.

Even my grandfather had attained the peak of dark jin. It was my inference. I know that if any of them had been true masters, they wouldn't have perished in my previous life.

Thus, I realized that I would have to start with martial arts, progress to a higher realm, and eventually condense my spiritual veins—a journey that required surpassing even the land immortal realm. Although the heavenly way had yet to take root on this planet, my immortal consciousness allowed me to sense the great Dao. Perhaps reaching qi channeling at the ming jin level was the key to truly cultivating the Dao.

With these thoughts in mind, I rose from my seat and visualized my body perfectly as it is in my mind. I could perceive a complete meridian map along with my muscle and blood flow structures—formed merely by listening to the rhythm of my blood and feeling the subtle movements of my body.

For inexperienced cultivators, techniques form the path; for someone like me, the Dao itself shapes the technique. Gradually, every breathing pattern, every movement, and every muscle coordination became completely natural and inevitable.

"The Tao does nothing but nothing is left undone."

"Inhale the vastness of the cosmos, exhale the silence of the void.

With each breath, gather the essence of life,

With each release, dissolve the ties to the mortal world.

Let the breath harmonize the balance of Yin and Yang,

For in the stillness of the breath, the Dao reveals its path."

"The mountain stands firm, the river flows free,

One cannot exist without the other;

So too must the cultivator balance strength with softness,

Force with surrender, mind with heart.

Seek not the extremes, but the center,

Where power resides in patience and tranquility."

"The Qi flows where the mind leads,

A river guided by the hand of the Dao.

Do not chase the wind, but become one with it;

Let the heart soften, and the body will follow.

The great path is invisible to the eyes,

Yet in every step, the heavens and earth can be felt."

Armed with my incomparable experiences and deep understanding, I soon discovered the optimal sequence of body control—integrating steps, boxing movements, and specific breathing patterns—which I simply named the "human body exercise."

It's worth to note that these exercises come from an immortal reborn, renowned for enlightenment and profound knowledge. Han Chen practiced for about five hours. In that time, the food he had eaten, along with every bit of remaining fat and excess energy, was completely consumed and merged into my human biome. He felt no muscle tension or exhaustion—only a measure of mental effort, plenty of sweat, and a slight emptiness in my stomach.

After finishing, he cleaned up, slipped into the kitchen in the middle of the night, grabbed some chocolates and cookies, and then returned to bed to sleep.

Days continues. He started a new gym session and after a month of relying on energy drinks, vitamins, meat and regular consumables he crossed Body Conditioning, feeding vitality, Muscle Empowerment, 3 realms he devised for human cultivation to stand at pinnacle of a regular mortal.

By the month's end, Han Chen stood transformed. Ten centimeters taller, his frame now carried lean muscle that rippled beneath school uniforms tailored just months prior. Movements flowed with unconscious grace and confidence; eyes sharpened by lifetimes of insight and maturity, simply making him stand out among his classmates. It didn't go unnoticed by people around him.

Boys asked for training tips, and he received his first love letter in two lifetimes. Looking at the stiff and jealous Xu Qing, his mood was very good.

She was also curious; She was told the reason was attending gym sessions. She was glued next to him wherever possible in the past few days. He is fairly certain that she now carries a renowned interest in his new looks. He was interested in what would happen between them.

His parents were martial artists, and they also noticed the change. So, one day after dinner, his parents called over. His dad scrutinized him with arms crossed over. Mother was also nearby eyeing him. She was very satisfied with his son's new confident appearance. Just a month. A month of going to gym make this transformation. Both of them found it hard to believe.

"Chen'er." His father's voice brooked no argument during their evening meeting. "Are you mimicking the Han family techniques?"