Chapter 1 — A Life Lost, A Life Gained
The scent of damp earth filled his nose. It was faint, mixed with the metallic tang of blood and the scent of pine trees swaying gently in the mountain breeze. His eyelids trembled. Slowly, they opened—revealing deep, dark eyes filled with confusion.
"…Where…?"
The sky above was tinged with crimson and gold—the sun beginning its descent past the ridges of the Blackleaf Mountains. He lay on a patch of cold grass near a moss-covered stone. The world felt painfully real.
Too real.
Then it hit him.
Memories surged like a broken dam.
He wasn't just someone waking up in a strange place. He remembered everything—two lives clashing violently inside his skull. His chest heaved. Eyes widened. And slowly, everything aligned.
He was once Li Feng, a twenty-year-old man from a modern Earth—crippled by a strange illness that had plagued him since childhood. It ate at his muscles and nerves. By the time he was seventeen, he could barely walk unaided. His mother—his only source of warmth—died two years before his own death.
She had sold everything for his treatments. Died smiling.
Then the rest became a blur—hospital beds, stale air, regret… death.
And now… this?
His name here was Li Feng as well. Same name. Same age. But this world was unlike his previous one.
Cultivation. Qi. Beasts. Spiritual roots.
He had been here for two years now—this body's soul gone, and his own slipping in silently during the chaos of an accident.
His "father" in this world had brought him from the town to a remote village—Leafspring Village, hoping the spiritual herbs in the nearby mountains might cure his declining body. His father had once been a strong cultivator at the ninth layer of Body Refining. A silent, serious man who had known great loss—his wife, this body's mother, had died during childbirth.
For a year, they lived quietly. Li Feng—still weakened by his strange illness—could only watch as his father tried everything to cure him. And it worked. Gradually.
Then, a week ago, they went hunting.
And that changed everything.
A powerful beast—a Blackhorn Bear—ambushed them. Its strength was equal to a peak Body Refining stage cultivator. It was bloodied and maddened, injured from some unknown fight.
His father told him to run.
Li Feng did.
He didn't even hesitate.
From a distance, he saw it. His father—wielding a long iron spear—fighting like a madman. Every strike of the bear shook the ground. Every roar echoed in Li Feng's chest. But in the end… his father was torn apart—but not before driving his spear deep into the bear's chest.
It limped away, leaving a trail of blood.
Li Feng, trembling, hiding, crying… didn't even have the courage to look for his father's body until hours later.
He never found it.
Only blood and broken trees.
Today… Li Feng woke up near that very spot—with his modern memories awakened. As if the world had waited until now to make him complete.
A soft wind rustled the trees. The mountain shadows stretched long.
He stood up, shaky but not weak.
The illness… it was gone.
He clenched his fists. No shaking. No pain. He could feel… strength. Real strength.
"…This world gave me another chance." His voice was hoarse. "I won't waste it."
He made his way down the mountain, barefoot and silent, until the soft glow of lights welcomed him back to the humble village.
Leafspring Village was modest—wooden homes with thatched roofs, rice paddies and herb gardens. Maybe two hundred villagers in total. But it was peaceful. And now… it was his home.
An old lady glanced up as he passed, then waved.
"Back from the woods, Li Feng?"
He nodded with a faint smile. "Yeah. Just… clearing my head."
She looked at him with pity. Everyone knew about his father. Some called it bad luck. Others thought he should've died too.
He didn't care.
---
Three weeks later.
Li Feng sat cross-legged inside a small wooden hut at the edge of the village. It belonged to his father—now his. The space was simple: bedroll, fireplace, a few tools. He had recovered from the trauma, and the strange stillness of the soul merger had faded. It was time to cultivate.
He closed his eyes.
Breathe in. Guide the air. Feel the warmth. Absorb. Channel. Compress.
At first, it was hard. He had no technique, just an instinct.
But over the next few weeks, Li Feng discovered a hidden manual in his father's belongings—a body refining technique. Meant for ordinary people without true roots. He began practicing it diligently, using dried herbs and low-grade medicinal water as his only support.
Pain. Sweating. Screaming silently into the night.
But he endured.
From Layer 1 to Layer 2… and then to Layer 3.
By the time his 21st birthday arrived, Li Feng had completed the third layer of Body Refining.
But progress slowed drastically.
He could feel it. Without better resources, he wouldn't reach the fourth layer for months. And something else…
His body was hitting a wall. A ceiling.
Even without a proper tool, Li Feng could feel it in his soul—his spiritual root was weak. Almost nonexistent.
Pseudo root. The weakest classification. Enough to cultivate the body… but not enough to absorb true spiritual qi.
And that's when the realization hit him.
If he wanted to go further…
He needed support. A foundation. A force to stand behind.
A family.
Not just for emotional strength, but because instinct told him… it mattered. In this world, the lone wolf died alone. But a cultivator with a family had purpose—and maybe, just maybe, something more.
A storm rumbled faintly in the distant mountains.
Li Feng stepped outside, bare chest glistening with sweat, eyes burning with silent fire.
"…I'll build my path with my own hands."