The satisfying thud of my fist against the heavy bag echoed through the empty dojo. Sweat trickled down my temples as I maintained my stance, just as Master Chen had taught me. Ten years of training under him had ingrained these movements into my muscle memory, making them as natural as breathing.

"Your form is improving, Wang," Master Chen's weathered voice carried across the wooden floor. The elderly man stood in his usual spot, hands clasped behind his back, watching me with those keen eyes that seemed to catch every minute flaw in technique.

"Thank you, Master," I replied, bowing slightly before grabbing my towel. "Though I still can't maintain that meditative state you talked about during combat."

He paused, studying me with an intensity I'd grown used to over the years. "The stillness of mind during chaos comes with time. But first—" he gestured for me to sit in our usual meditation spot, "—show me the breathing technique again."

I settled into the familiar lotus position, my hands resting on my knees. Master Chen had spent countless hours perfecting this particular breathing method, insisting on precise patterns I'd never seen in other dojos.

"Remember, Wang," his voice grew softer, more deliberate. "The breath is everything. Each pattern must be precise, each cycle complete. In, through the lower belly, hold for three counts, then release in a perfect spiral." He watched my practice with unusual attention. "The ancient masters knew that proper breathing was the key to understanding deeper truths."

I followed the familiar rhythm—in through the nose, filling my lower abdomen first, then up through the chest in a spiral pattern he'd drilled into me countless times. Hold for three heartbeats, then release in the reverse spiral, emptying from top to bottom. Simple, yet somehow profound.

"Good," he nodded, though something flickered in his eyes—satisfaction? Relief? "Keep practicing this method, especially in times of change. You may find it... more valuable than you expect."

I nodded, wiping my face and neck. At twenty-eight, I'd dedicated more than a third of my life to martial arts, yet some aspects still felt as elusive as when I'd started. The meditation especially had always been a challenge, despite Master Chen's insistence on this particular breathing method.

"Same time next week?" I asked, shouldering my gym bag.

He smiled, an oddly knowing expression crossing his weathered features. "Of course. Don't forget your breathing exercises. Remember them well, Fang. They may serve you in... unexpected ways."

The cool evening air hit my skin as I stepped outside. The street lamps were just beginning to flicker on, casting long shadows across the sidewalk. My apartment was only a fifteen-minute walk away, and I enjoyed the peaceful transition between the intensity of training and the solitude of home.

As I waited at the crosswalk, I pulled out my phone to check my messages. A text from Mom asking about Sunday dinner, a reminder about tomorrow's project deadline at work—the usual responsibilities of adult life. The walk signal turned green, and I stepped off the curb.

That's when I heard the screeching tires.

Time seemed to slow down as I turned my head. The headlights were blinding, the truck's horn a distant wail. In that split second, my training kicked in—but there was nowhere to dodge. My last thought was of Master Chen's words about finding calm in chaos.

Then everything went black.

---

The darkness lasted for what felt like both an eternity and a mere instant. When awareness returned, it was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

Everything was blurry and unfocused. Sounds reached me as if through water, muffled and distorted. I tried to move, but my body felt alien and unresponsive. Panic started to rise in my chest until I realized something even more shocking—I was alive. Different, but alive.

As my limited vision adjusted, I began to make out vague shapes and colors. Giant figures moved around me, their voices incomprehensible but somehow soothing. It took several more moments of confusion before the impossible truth hit me: I was an infant. A newborn baby.

The realization should have been terrifying, but strangely, a profound sense of peace washed over me. Perhaps it was the remnants of my previous life's training, or maybe just the natural serenity of an infant's mind, but I found myself accepting this new reality with surprising ease

That's when I noticed something else—something that definitely hadn't existed in my previous world. The air itself seemed to hold a strange quality, a kind of shimmer or vibration that I could sense but couldn't quite see. It reminded me of the feeling I'd sometimes get during deep meditation sessions with Master Chen, but far more tangible.

Unable to do much else in my current state, I did what years of training had taught me to do—I focused on my breathing. The simple in-and-out pattern was different in this tiny body, but the principle remained the same. As I concentrated, I began to notice how that strange energy in the air seemed to respond to my breathing rhythm.

Days passed, then weeks. While my physical development proceeded at a normal infant's pace, my mind remained fully active. I spent countless hours in what amounted to meditation, not having much else to do. During these sessions, I discovered that the mysterious energy—which I now thought of as a kind of mist or essence—could be ever so slightly influenced by my focused breathing.

It was during one such session, approximately three months into my new life, that everything changed again. As I lay in my crib, practicing the breathing techniques that had become my sole entertainment, a blue rectangular box suddenly appeared in my field of vision.

[System Initializing...]

[Minimum Mana Threshold Detected]

[Connection Established]

[Welcome to the Celestial Cultivation System]

The text floated in the air, visible only to me. I would have gasped if I had better control over my body.

[Congratulations! Your existing breathing technique has been recognized. Natural aptitude for meditation has accelerated this process considerably.]

[Current Status:

Name: Fang Lingxuan

Age: 3 months

Cultivation Realm: Mortal (Mana Condensation Stage 0)

Available Cultivation Paths: Locked (Requires Spirit Foundation)

Mana Essence: 0.3 Dao Units (Extremely Weak)

Skills:

 - Meditation (Beginner) Lv. 1

 - Mana Sensitivity (Innate) Lv. 1

 - Spirit Core Formation (Awakening) Lv. 0.1]

More text appeared, but what caught my attention was the confirmation that the strange energy I'd been sensing was indeed mana. All those hours of meditation hadn't just been passing the time—I'd been unknowingly preparing myself for something far greater.

[Would you like to begin the basic cultivation tutorial?]

[Yes/No]

If I'd been able to, I would have smiled. Instead, I focused my thoughts on 'Yes,' somehow knowing the system would understand.

[Tutorial Initializing...]

[Warning: Due to physical development limitations, certain aspects of cultivation will be restricted until body maturation reaches appropriate levels.]

As the system began its explanation, I realized that my death hadn't been an ending at all—it had been a gateway to something extraordinary. Master Chen's teachings about meditation and inner peace hadn't just been philosophy; they had been preparing me for this moment, even if neither of us had known it.

In the modest warmth of my new nursery—little more than a corner of our single-room dwelling—I began to understand more about my new world. The wooden walls showed signs of wear, and the blanket covering me, while clean and carefully mended, had clearly been patched multiple times. Yet despite their apparent poverty, my new parents treated me with abundant love and care. My mother would often skip meals, claiming she wasn't hungry, only for me to notice her secretly giving her portion to my father so he could maintain his strength for his work in the fields. Their sacrifices didn't go unnoticed, even by my infant eyes.

Surrounded by the gentle flow of mana that I could now officially name, I began my journey as a cultivator. The circumstances might not have been what I would have chosen—being stuck in an infant's body was far from ideal—but I had the one thing many cultivators spent years seeking: a clear and focused mind.

As the system continued its tutorial, I couldn't help but think that somewhere, in another world, Master Chen would be proud. His student had finally found that elusive state of transcendence he'd always talked about—it just took dying and being reborn in another world to get there.

[Basic Cultivation Technique Unlocked: Breath of the Nascent Dawn]

[Begin First Lesson?]

[Yes/No]

My thoughts froze. A cultivation technique? Already? Even with my limited knowledge of this new world, I understood that cultivation techniques were precious treasures, often passed down through wealthy families or sold for small fortunes.

As I focused on the familiar breathing pattern Master Chen had taught me—now recognized as something called the Breath of the Nascent Dawn—I couldn't help but wonder if there had been more to his insistence on precise technique than I'd realized. But that was a mystery for another time. For now, I had my first steps into cultivation to focus on.

I focused my thoughts on 'Yes' once again, eager to begin my new path. Whatever this new world had in store for me, I was ready to face it—one breath at a time.

Perhaps this second chance would be more interesting than I'd imagined.