The sound of honking horns echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his daze. His hands, slick with sweat, gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline as the car spun wildly on the rain-slicked road. Exhaustion weighed him down like a heavy blanket – he'd been driving for hours, pushing himself too far. The blinding headlights of an oncoming truck filled the windshield, growing terrifyingly large, far too close to escape.
Panic seized him. He yanked the wheel hard to the right, trying desperately to swerve away. But the wet asphalt offered no grip; the tires screamed in protest, sliding helplessly. He slammed his foot onto the brake pedal, a useless gesture. Time seemed to stretch and warp. The massive grill of the truck filled his vision. I'm going to crash. This is it, his mind screamed.
Then came the chaos – an ear-splitting shriek of tearing metal, a blinding explosion of shattered glass and flashing lights, and a crushing impact that slammed through his entire body. He braced, waiting for the unbearable pain, the end.
But... nothing happened. No pain. Instead, a strange, heavy calm washed over him. He felt detached, like his body wasn't really his anymore. Was he breathing? His heart hammered wildly against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the eerie silence. Am I dying? Is this it?
He closed his eyes. Images flooded his mind – his family's faces, unspoken words, dreams left unfulfilled, adventures never taken. A deep sadness washed over him. Then, abruptly, the images faded, replaced by... nothing. Just a profound, silent emptiness. The world dissolved into darkness, and he felt weightless, adrift in a quiet, peaceful void.
Then, stillness. Absolute stillness.
He opened his eyes. Everything felt... wrong. It wasn't the crushing darkness or twisted metal he expected. Instead, soft, warm light surrounded him. The air was clean and fresh, smelling sweetly of flowers and sun-warmed grass, completely unlike the city's fumes and rain.
He felt... different. Lighter. He tried to shift, bracing for the agony of broken bones, but felt nothing. No pain at all. In fact, he felt unnervingly good. Healthy. Whole. This wasn't a hospital. He didn't recognize anything. A wave of confusion hit him.
"Wh..t... hap..ned?" he tried to speak however his voice is not coming out.
He blinked, his head feeling fuzzy but not hurt. Slowly, he pushed himself up. The first thing he saw was a ceiling – not plaster or tile, but smooth, polished wood, glowing warmly from the soft light of a simple lantern hanging on the wall.
He looked around, bewildered. The room was small but incredibly neat and clean. The walls were all made of the same warm, polished wood. A small window, covered by thin white curtains, let in a gentle breeze carrying the cheerful sound of birdsong. In one corner sat a small, sturdy wooden table. On it rested a plain clay teapot, still steaming faintly, and a little wooden bowl filled with brightly colored fruits he didn't recognize. The air held a comforting mix of smells – dried herbs hanging somewhere, the warm scent of the tea, and a clean, woody smell.
"Where... am I?" he murmured, his voice still small and unfamiliar.
He looked down at himself and froze.
His body was... tiny. His hands resting on the rough-woven blanket were impossibly small, with pudgy little fingers.
"What the…?" he whispered, a cold dread washing over him. Then, the realization hit him like a physical blow. 'HOLY SHIT, AM I REINCARNATED IN ANOTHER WORLD!'*
As if reacting to his shock, the lantern on the wall flickered wildly and then went out, plunging the room into near darkness. Before panic could fully set in, the door creaked open. A woman stood silhouetted in the doorway. She moved calmly into the room. He couldn't see clearly what she did in the dimness, but there was a soft whoosh sound, and suddenly, a small, bright ball of fire, no bigger than an apple, appeared hovering near the lantern. It floated gently towards the wick, touched it, and the lantern sprang back to life, casting its warm glow again. The fireball vanished as quickly as it appeared. The woman, seemingly unbothered, walked over to the crib, her face coming into the light. She had kind, tired eyes and gentle features. She smiled softly down at him, murmuring something soothing in a language he didn't understand, before adjusting his blanket and quietly leaving the room.
Liu Ming lay there, heart pounding not with fear this time, but with stunned disbelief. Fire. From thin air. Magic? Cultivation? This world... it's different.
One Year Later
'My name is Liu Ming,' the thought echoed clearly within the mind of the one-year-old boy sitting on a worn rug in a sunlit room. 'And right now, I am 1 year old. Ugh, this is frustrating. My body feels so weak and clumsy. I can make some sounds – mostly gurgles and babbles – but forming real words? My mouth and throat just aren't developed enough yet. I think it'll take another year or two before I can actually talk properly.'
He looked around, taking in his surroundings with the sharp awareness of someone much older trapped in an infant's form. He was in a large, simple room that served as the main living space of what seemed to be an orphanage. The building itself felt old but sturdy, built mostly of the same warm, polished wood he remembered from that first room a year ago. Thick wooden beams crossed the high ceiling. Large windows, open to let in the fresh air, showed a view of a peaceful courtyard outside. In the courtyard, he could see patches of vegetables growing in neat rows and a few simple wooden structures – maybe storage sheds or a washhouse. Beyond the low wall surrounding the courtyard, tall trees with leaves in vibrant shades of green and gold rustled gently. The air carried the constant, pleasant sounds of nature: birds chirping, insects buzzing, and the distant murmur of a stream.
'And in this one year,' Liu Ming continued his silent monologue, 'I've come to a solid conclusion. I haven't just been reborn; I've been reincarnated into a cultivation world.' The memory of the woman, Henna, effortlessly conjuring fire to light the lantern was seared into his mind, and this make him wanted to learn about them more.
Right now, I'm in this orphanage.'
The place was called "Havenwood Refuge," he'd gathered from overheard conversations. It was a humble place, run by a few kind women, chief among them Henna. She was the one who had found him, wrapped in simple cloth and left near the gate a year ago. Henna was in her thirties, with kind eyes that held a quiet strength and streaks of grey already appearing in her dark hair. She moved with a calm efficiency, overseeing the care of a dozen or so children of various ages. The orphanage felt safe, clean, and filled with the sounds of children playing, crying, or being gently scolded, but it was undeniably poor. The food was simple – mostly porridge, vegetables, and occasional bits of fish or tough meat. The clothes the children wore were patched and faded. Toys were basic: carved wooden animals, balls made of woven reeds, and smooth stones.
'Still,' Liu Ming thought, watching Henna patiently feed a younger toddler across the room, 'Henna is kind. She works tirelessly. Without her...' He didn't like to think about that. Despite the abandonment and the humble surroundings, he felt a flicker of gratitude towards her.
Then, there was the other thing. The strange ability he seemed to have gained along with this new life. Focusing inwardly, he thought clearly: 'Status.'
Instantly, right before his eyes, shimmering like light caught in mist, a transparent, slightly glowing screen appeared. It was like something out of a video game, but undeniably real and hovering in the air only he could see.
---------------------[STATUS]--------------------
[Character]: Liu Ming
[Cultivation Base]: Mortal
[Body]: Heavenly Refined Body
[Blood Line]: Primordial Bloodline
[Talent]: God Level
[Spiritual Root]: 7 Elements Root (Fire, Water, Earth, Wood, Metal, Yin, Yang)
Liu Ming stared at the screen, a familiar mix of awe and confusion washing over him. 'There are many things here I don't understand,' he mused. 'What exactly is a "Heavenly Refined Body"? What powers or dangers come with a "Primordial Bloodline"? And what does having a root for all seven elements, including Yin and Yang, even mean? How does that work?'
The terms hinted at immense potential, concepts he vaguely associated with the most powerful legends in cultivation stories from his past life. But the specifics were a mystery. He was just a one-year-old mortal in a simple orphanage.
'However,' he thought, a spark of fierce determination igniting within him as he looked at the last line, 'I know one thing for absolutely sure. Whatever this "God Level" Talent means... it sounds incredible. It feels... limitless.' He looked down at his small hands, then out the window at the vibrant, unfamiliar world. 'Abandoned or not, in an orphanage or not... with this, maybe I can truly grasp this second chance. Maybe I can reach heights I never dreamed of before.' The peaceful sounds of the orphanage filled the room, but Liu Ming's mind was already racing far ahead, towards a future written in the language of cultivation and the potential glowing on his hidden status screen.