I wake up to a light less harsh than the ones used in the hospital. My small body shivers in anticipation; cultivation time! I need to choose a cultivation method before that though. I sift through the little knowledge I obtained about this world so far: the spiritual energy in the air here is way to thin. There is no way the conventional methods of the god realm will work here. Assuming there are no rare herbs either, I need to choose a method that will strengthen my body without the requirement of dense amounts of spiritual energy. I sift through my memories... There is nothing. Out of the thousands of cultivation methods I have in my head, none of them will allow me to harness the little amount of energy in the air at a speed that will allow me to reach immortality. 'What am I supposed to do?' I think to myself. 'Think Quinn... Think!' ... That's it! I will use mental cultivation to reach immortality! A new path to immortality. They already walk hand in hand. Mental power was formerly used as an aide in the immortal path but in this environment, it will be my immortal path! Mental power is formless and can only be cultivated through meditation. With a strong enough mental power I'm sure I can come up with ways to use that power to refine my body so that it won't lag too far behind. I close my eyes and focus. Mental power cultivation is especially painful and the process causes it to feel as if your brain is being torn in two. I clench my baby fists and set my jaw as sweat beads my brow. I focus on my head and try to refine my mental energy into a strand. The originally formless cloud slowly condenses in my head and stretches. Twisting and pulling, the strand grows more and more evident. What is this talent for mental cultivation? Why am I able to gather mental energy so easily? My initial success excites me and I resume the mind tearing cultivation.
"Is he still asleep?" a females voice interrupts my focus. "Can you go check on him Warren? He should be getting hungry by now."
My stomach grumbles in response to her words and heavy footsteps echo up the stairs and into my room. My fathers body mass blocks all light as he looms over my crib. "You awake lil man?" He whispers.
I open my eyes.
"Ah!" He exclaims. "Honey, he's awake! I'll bring him to you so he can eat!" His large hands cradle my small frame and I'm hoisted from my crib, straight to my mothers lovely frame where I receive the nutrients my poor body needed.
"He's covered in sweat Warren, you'll need to bathe him after this."
"A little wipe down and he'll be good as new." my dad replies. As I suckle, my eyelids slowly grow heavier. Damn. I thought refining my mental energy would have kept me awake a little longer.