Lin Tianwu's consciousness slowly returned, like the slow trickle of water filling an empty vessel. For a moment, he basked in the strange sensation of being alive, having failed his ascension and wandering through endless nothingness. He had been lost, but now, there was hope. There was life. He had survived.
His eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar ceiling. The room felt strange. The air was still and heavy with a strange kind of emptiness. No spiritual energy hummed through the walls, no faint glow of qi flickered in the corners of his senses. His surroundings were sterile and foreign. Nothing here reminded him of the world he had once called home.
The bed beneath him was soft, unlike the cold stone floors of cultivation halls he was accustomed to. The walls were decorated with objects he didn't recognize, and the faint, artificial light hurt his eyes, making him squint.
For a brief moment, Lin Tianwu was consumed with the relief of survival. After all, he had failed his ascension. He had been cast into nothingness, his soul wandering aimlessly in the void. But now, he was alive again. But where?
He sat up on the bed, rubbing his eyes. The room—no, the world—felt entirely different. There were no spiritual treasures, no ancient tomes to guide him. There was only this strange, foreign environment.
The memories of the host's previous life began to bleed into his consciousness. He tried to focus, to understand where he was.
His mind raced. Where am I?
The name of the place, Earth, appeared in his thoughts, and as the memories solidified, his disbelief grew. This wasn't a world like his own. It was a modern world, ruled by technology, not cultivation. Humans had survived by their own means, by science, not through the cultivation of spiritual energy.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. No qi. No cultivation. No power.
It was strange, this body's memories. Strange, yet fascinating. Lin Tianwu could feel the frustration welling up inside of him. He had been a supreme cultivator in his past life, but now he was stuck in a body with no abilities and no cultivation foundation. Worse, the world around him seemed to be devoid of spiritual energy entirely.
How did I come to this? His hands clenched into fists, and a surge of anger rose within him. To think, that a once supreme being, a future ascended immortal, has been reduced to this...
For a moment, despair gnawed at him, but then, he forced himself to stand. No... I cannot give up.
He closed his eyes and focused, pushing past the doubts, seeking what he had known so well in his past life—qi. He reached into the air, into the world around him. But there was nothing. His senses couldn't find anything. It was like the air itself had been emptied of the very essence of life.
The stillness was overwhelming, a deep and suffocating silence. There was nothing but the dead weight of a world without cultivation.
Lin Tianwu's shoulders slumped. How could this be?
But even as despair began to settle in his chest, his instincts kicked in. Focus. Search. Try again.
He reached out, focusing on the empty air, feeling it with his senses. It was almost like he was grasping at nothing. The world felt like it was lacking—so barren and devoid of the power he had once commanded.
But then...
A faint sensation. A trace, like a breath on the wind.
Lin Tianwu's eyes snapped open. It was like a whisper, just out of reach. It was so faint he thought he might have imagined it. But no, it was there—a flicker, a delicate trace of something.
It wasn't qi—not in the way he understood it. It was weak, brittle, like the remnants of something long forgotten. The energy was faint, almost like a shadow of what once was.
Could it be...?
His heart pounded. This world might be strange, but he had found something. It wasn't much. The energy was small, fleeting, almost imperceptible, but it was there, nonetheless.
He tried to focus on the sensation, reaching for it, but it slipped away before he could fully grasp it. The world's energy was so faint, so scattered, that it was almost as if it was never meant to be found.
Lin Tianwu closed his eyes again. This wasn't the world he had known, but he had felt that trace. And that was enough.
There is something here. Something I can cultivate.
His breath steadied. It wouldn't be easy. This world was different. The energy was thin, nearly absent. But Lin Tianwu wasn't one to back down from a challenge. He had been a supreme cultivator, and even in this strange, unfamiliar world, he would find a way to cultivate again.
Lin Tianwu's mind raced as he tried to grasp the significance of what he had sensed. The trace of energy, though fleeting and delicate, was undeniable. It was unlike anything he had ever encountered in his previous world, yet it was still energy, still something to work with. For a brief moment, he felt a glimmer of hope, a spark that perhaps this world wasn't as barren as he had initially thought.
I can do this. I must.
His hands curled into fists once again, not in anger this time, but with resolve. Despite the doubts, despite the strange unfamiliarity of this world, Lin Tianwu refused to accept defeat. He had cultivated through countless trials, faced the most insurmountable odds, and yet, he had always found a way to rise. This would be no different.
He stood from the bed and moved toward the window. The room was small and the view beyond the glass was unremarkable—a street, a few buildings, and people walking about in strange clothing. None of it seemed like a place where great spiritual energy would flow, but Lin Tianwu knew that appearances were often deceiving. In his past life, the greatest treasures were often hidden in the most unlikely of places.
This world is different, he thought, but it still has something. The energy, though faint, is a beginning.
He closed his eyes, focusing once again on the subtle sensation he had felt earlier. His mind reached outward, searching for that elusive trace of energy. It was like trying to catch smoke with bare hands, the wisps of power slipping through his grasp the moment he thought he had it.
Focus. Focus.
Lin Tianwu's mind slowed, tuning out the distractions of the world around him. He had felt this way before, in the early days of his cultivation. Back then, the qi had been harder to feel, harder to control. But through patience, through sheer will, he had learned to manipulate even the faintest traces of energy. It had taken time, but he had done it.
I must do it again.
Slowly, he began to build his focus, drawing the energy inward, trying to concentrate on that faint sensation. He reached out, searching for it in the air, through the very fabric of the world. For a moment, it felt like he was grasping at nothing, but then—there it was again. That delicate thread of energy, so faint it was almost imperceptible.
It was as if the world itself was breathing, releasing the barest remnants of energy, barely enough to notice. Lin Tianwu breathed in deeply, trying to pull it closer, to understand it, to mold it into something he could use.
The trace of energy flickered, then faded once again. Lin Tianwu's eyes shot open in frustration. It was maddening, this constant dance of pursuit and retreat. The energy was there, but it was so weak, so elusive. How could he cultivate with so little to work with? And yet, the answer was clear. He would have to be patient. He had no choice but to push forward, to gather whatever energy this world had to offer.
With a deep breath, Lin Tianwu sat cross-legged in the middle of the room, his palms resting on his knees. He focused on his breathing, calming his mind. His previous life's memories of cultivation began to flood his mind—the steps, the techniques, the discipline it took to refine the energy within.
It had taken him years in his past life to reach the heights he had achieved, and while he no longer had the vast amounts of spiritual energy he once controlled, the foundation was still within him. It was like a lingering echo, a ghost of his former self. And in this world, he would rebuild. He had no other choice.
I will adapt, he thought, I will make this work.
The faint trace of energy returned again, a delicate wisp, just on the edge of his senses. Lin Tianwu reached for it once more, gathering his will. It was almost like the energy was afraid of him, pulling away whenever he got too close, but he refused to let it slip through his fingers again.
His mind stretched out, and this time, he focused not on force, but on understanding. Instead of trying to force the energy to obey him, he tried to understand its nature, its purpose. He sought to embrace it, to become one with it, rather than dominate it as he once had. It was a different approach, one that his past self would have considered beneath him, but in this strange world, with so little to work with, he had no choice but to adapt.
Minutes passed. Hours, maybe. He wasn't sure anymore. Time lost meaning in the quiet of the room as Lin Tianwu continued his search, his senses trained on the faint trace of energy.
Finally, he felt it—a shift. The energy seemed to respond to his efforts, bending toward him ever so slightly, as though it recognized his persistence. Lin Tianwu's heart beat faster. It wasn't much, but it was a start. He could feel the energy coalescing, gathering around him like a mist.
A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
His breathing slowed as he allowed himself to feel the energy, to sense its weak flow. It wasn't the vibrant, abundant qi he had known in his past life, but it was energy nonetheless. And with it, he could begin to cultivate.
He opened his eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was far from his former strength, but he had made the first step. And in a world that seemed devoid of hope, that small trace of energy was enough to reignite his drive.
This is just the beginning, he thought. I will cultivate again. I will find a way.
"Lin Tianwu, breakfast is ready. Come down before it gets cold."
Hm??