The morning air was crisp and carried the faint scent of damp soil, mingled with the distant smoke from a small village on the horizon. Xaio Li rose slowly, every muscle screaming in protest. His new body, though alive, was painfully weak, but his mind was a treasury of millennia of experience. He had survived the fall of heavens, conquered armies of immortals, and faced tribulations that could shatter worlds. Yet now, every movement required effort, and even standing upright left his legs trembling.
He surveyed the fields around him. Meadowbrook Village was small, just a scattering of huts and farmland, but it was alive with activity. Villagers moved between the fields, tending crops, hauling baskets of grain, and shouting to one another. None noticed the boy at the edge of the field, the newly reborn Xaio Li, whose mind burned with memories and ambition. This was the world of mortals—a world he had once ruled indirectly through power and influence, now a world where he was almost powerless. Almost.
Xaio Li knelt and pressed his palms into the dirt, feeling its texture, the small tremors of life beneath his fingers, and the faint, almost imperceptible currents of spiritual energy that lingered in the soil. It was weak, faint, barely enough to sustain even a mortal, but it existed. Body Refinement… the first step. This vessel is crude, but it can be molded. He exhaled slowly, letting the cool morning wind fill his lungs, and began the simple exercises he remembered from his past life. Stretching, tensing, and then releasing each muscle in turn, he focused on feeling the flow of energy within.
The sensation was faint at first. A flicker, a spark of something familiar, a thread of power that whispered through his veins. It was enough to remind him that this body, though mortal, could be honed, could be strengthened. He concentrated, attempting to draw the energy from the surroundings into himself, to merge it with his own consciousness. Slowly, almost painfully, the spark grew into a faint glow beneath his skin.
Movement drew his attention. A small flock of crows circled above the village, cawing as they hunted for seeds and insects. Xaio Li observed them carefully, noting the patterns in their flight, the way they reacted to wind currents. To a mortal, it was trivial, but he saw lessons in every action. Awareness, observation, adaptation—these were the foundations upon which power was built. He stood, moving carefully across the uneven field, testing balance, agility, and the coordination of his weak limbs. Every step was deliberate, every breath controlled.
Hours passed. Xaio Li felt fatigue, hunger, and the ache of bones that had never known strain, but he endured it. Survival was the first lesson, refinement the next, and the reclamation of his former power would follow. Around midday, a commotion reached him from the edge of the village. A small child had wandered too close to the forest line and was crying, trapped in a tangle of roots and brush. Without thinking, Xaio Li rushed forward. His movements were awkward, faltering, but he reached the child and carefully freed him from the roots.
"Thank you!" the child cried, turning to run back toward the village. Xaio Li's lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. Even in this weak form, he could protect life. This body will grow, and when it does… He allowed the thought to linger, unspoken, focusing instead on the energy he could feel in the area. The forest nearby pulsed with faint spiritual energy, minor but noticeable—a signal of beasts, or perhaps other mortal cultivators testing their limits.
He moved toward the edge of the forest, cautious. The trees towered above, their branches weaving together like the roof of a natural hall. The underbrush was thick, but Xaio Li's senses, honed over countless lifetimes, detected movement before it was visible. A small pack of wild boars had emerged, likely attracted by the crops in the fields. Mortal farmers would have fled, or fought with sticks and slings, but Xaio Li knelt, centering himself. Drawing upon the faint energy coursing in his body, he performed the first true exercise of Body Refinement.
A glow began to pulse through his veins, subtle but tangible. His limbs felt lighter, his movements more fluid. With careful precision, he extended a hand, focusing his energy into it. A single strike, a flicker of controlled force, and a boar was sent tumbling back into the underbrush. The others scattered, squealing in panic. He exhaled, feeling the slight surge of power strengthen his core. This was only the beginning—the first exercise of many, the first spark of power in a mortal vessel.
By late afternoon, Xaio Li had returned to the village's edge, exhausted but satisfied. He had learned something crucial: even a weak body could grow, even a mortal form could harbor the potential for greatness. The villagers continued their work, unaware that a being who had once ruled as Immortal Emperor walked among them.
As twilight fell, painting the fields in muted gold and deepening shadows, Xaio Li sat beneath a tree, focusing inward. He began meditating, drawing on the smallest threads of spiritual energy in the soil, the air, and even the fading sunlight. His vision blurred with the effort, yet the faint glow within him grew stronger, a promise of what was to come.
The stars began to pierce the sky, one by one. He lifted his gaze, feeling the pulse of the world around him, and for the first time since rebirth, a sense of anticipation surged through him. The path ahead was long, filled with danger, struggle, and countless obstacles—but it was a path he had walked before, a path he would master again.
He smiled softly to himself. Survival was the first step. Refinement, power, companions, rivals, cities, dragons, immortals—all would come in time. But the spark, the seed of destiny, had already awakened. Xaio Li, even in this frail new form, would reclaim the world. And one day, all who had ever doubted, betrayed, or opposed him would remember why the heavens had once trembled at his name.
This was only the beginning.