From the tender age of youth, a singular aspiration consumed me: to become a cultivator. Yet,
the world I inhabited was utterly mundane, devoid of the mystical qi or magical energies so often
depicted in the tales I devoured. I spent countless hours lost in cultivation novels, dreaming of
overpowered protagonists in fantastical realms, wielding ancient powers. But these were mere
dreams, distant and unattainable. Still, I refused to surrender.
At fifteen, I embarked on my own cultivation journey, attempting various breathing exercises, but
to no avail. I recited ancient spells and whispered arcane words, hoping to awaken some
dormant magic within, but again, the results were nil. As time matured me, so did my
understanding of reality. How could one truly live forever? How could mana exist for magic in a
world governed by scientific principles? It was all wishful thinking, a childish fantasy. Science,
after all, definitively proved the impossibility of eternal life or the destruction of matter through
sheer will. My steadfast belief in the mundane, a recantation of youthful fantasies, solidified
with each passing year.
Then, one day, old age claimed me.
I opened my eyes, and found myself reborn. It took a bewildered two hours to grasp the reality
of my new existence – this wasn't a dream. Days turned into weeks as I diligently absorbed
every detail of this unfamiliar world. A thrilling thought sparked within me: This was my chance
to shine!
And then, I discovered it. Immortals existed in this world! A wave of euphoria washed over
me, a joy I had never before experienced. Years upon years of waiting, of unwavering hope, had
finally borne fruit. But fate, it seemed, had a cruel twist in store. I learned that true cultivators
were exceedingly rare, a mere one in a million. Disappointment gnawed at me. Having been
reborn, shouldn't I possess some innate advantage? Perhaps five spiritual roots, or some
unique innate power? Yet, days continued to pass, and I remained ordinary.
Sixteen years had now elapsed since my rebirth into this less-developed world. The more I
contemplated cultivation, the more I fell in love with the very idea. Who wouldn't yearn to
cultivate, to transcend mortal limitations, to become immortal? After two more months of
contemplation, I made my decision. I would become a cultivator.
My family was heartbroken when I announced my departure, but I reassured them, my voice
resonating with unwavering confidence, "I, Bai Xing, will become an immortal! When I return,
everything will be alright. No one will ever look down upon us again."
My journey began in a large village. I inquired about cultivation, but as expected, the mortals
knew nothing. "How could these ordinary folk know?" I mused, a flicker of self-reproach. "I'm
truly foolish. Cultivators in this world must be incredibly rare, likely hidden from plain sight. As
long as I find a single one, I'll be fine." With that thought, I left the village.
I traversed countless villages, tribes, and clans, but every lead proved fruitless. Yet, I refused to
give up. Another two years slipped by, and now, at eighteen, I had accumulated a wealth of
knowledge about this new world. It was divided into five vast continents: Eastern, Western,
Southern, Central, and Northern. I also came to understand that most immortals remained
secluded, venturing out only into perilous areas where formidable spiritual beasts roamed.
"I've found every shred of evidence to prove that cultivation exists in this world," I pondered,
frustration mounting. "But why can't I find a single cultivator? Even setting aside actual
cultivators, why is there no information on how to cultivate?" Doubts began to creep in. Did
cultivators truly exist? Where were they hiding? I had searched over ten villages, and not a
single whisper of a cultivator's name had reached my ears. Were these tales nothing more than
myths? Just as despair threatened to consume me, a fiery streak ripped across the sky—a
meteor.
Excitement surged through me. "Could it be a fragment from a higher world?" I thought, my
mind racing, "Perhaps it will explain why I haven't found any cultivators!" I hastened towards the
impact site. A massive crater, seventy feet across, lay before me. My heart pounded with
anticipation as I began to break apart the meteor.
Slowly, painstakingly, I chipped away at the colossal rock. When I had reduced it to a mere
twenty feet, I glimpsed something within: a deceased body, and tucked into its clothes, a letter.
My first instinct was to retrieve the body, pulling it free from the meteor's embrace. I examined it,
searching for any sign of cultivation, but found none. Then, my gaze fell upon the letter.
I opened it, and the words within rendered me speechless:
"My inheritor, if you find this letter, you are the chosen one. My name is Tai Bing Chi, and I hail
from the Immortal Realm. I am a cultivator who has achieved the Nirvana Realm. Even if you
lack talent, you can still cultivate, provided you accept this inheritance. With my body, you shall
possess my Five Spiritual Roots. But you must promise me one thing: you will avenge me. If you
accept this condition, my inheritance shall be yours. Speak your name and explain to this body
why you wish to become a cultivator. If my will favors your answer, I shall guide you to the
Nirvana Realm."
I took a deep breath, processing the astonishing revelation. "He said he'll let me become a
cultivator even without talent, and he'll even grant me a Five Spiritual Roots body," I thought, my
mind racing. "Should I accept? How difficult could revenge be? And he'll even guide me to the
Nirvana Realm... it sounds incredibly powerful. Yes, I'll do it!"
I stood beside the lifeless form, my voice echoing with fervent determination. "I, Bai Xing, desire
to achieve immortality! For that, even if it seems impossible, I shall still try. No matter who killed
or betrayed you, I shall eliminate them! This is my promise, Bai Xing's promise. If I fail to avenge
you, I shall cease cultivation!"
As my words faded, a resonant voice emanated from the body. "Good, good! I like this answer.
You shall be my inheritor." With that, a powerful will surged from the body and imprinted itself
upon my mind.
I experienced the entirety of Tai Bing Chi's life, a myriad of memories, joys, and sorrows. My
eyes closed, and a cocoon of ethereal energy enveloped my body. Days bled into weeks, weeks
into months, and months into years. I slept for an astonishing seventy years.
In the seventieth year, the cocoon began to crack.
With Tai Bing Chi's body now my own, I opened my eyes. "So, seventy years have passed," I
mused, a pang of sadness in my chest. "I wonder how my parents are doing... I suppose they
must have passed away while I was experiencing Tai Bing Chi's life." The insights gleaned from
Tai Bing Chi's vast experience had matured me profoundly. Though my physical age was only
eighty-eight years, I now possessed the wisdom and experience of a million years!