The rain thinned as Lin Yuan left the abyss behind.
Falling Stone Mountain loomed at his back, its jagged cliffs half-shrouded in mist, as though trying to swallow the truth of what had just occurred. Lin Yuan did not look back. That place had served its purpose—it had tested whether he was worthy of surviving the collision of fate and opportunity.
He had passed.
His steps were steady, unhurried, yet filled with an unmistakable sense of control. Every movement carried intent. His breathing was calm, deep, perfectly matched to the rhythm of his body. The reconstructed flesh beneath his skin responded with flawless coordination, no longer burdened by the subtle weaknesses that had plagued him for years.
"This body is no longer a limitation."
That realization was simple, but it carried weight.
In cultivation, limits defined everything. Once the limits were gone, speed became a choice—not a restriction.
As he moved through the uneven terrain, Lin Yuan began testing himself deliberately.
He did not do so recklessly. He did so thoroughly.
He stepped onto loose stone and shifted his weight suddenly. His balance corrected instantly, muscles responding before conscious thought. He leapt across a narrow gap between rocks, landing cleanly, knees bending just enough to disperse impact.
Strength.
Control.
Efficiency.
All three were present.
"This level of physical refinement alone places me above most mortals and some low-level cultivators."
That was without Qi.
Without techniques.
Without deliberate amplification beyond survival.
A faint, cold smile appeared on his lips.
"If this is the foundation…"
He stopped near a cluster of boulders and placed his palm against one of them.
Stone was cold beneath his skin.
He focused slightly and pushed.
The boulder cracked—not explosively, but cleanly, splitting along natural fault lines before collapsing inward. The force traveled exactly where it should, with no wasted output.
Lin Yuan withdrew his hand and examined it.
No pain.
No strain.
"This isn't brute strength."
"It's optimized force transfer."
The otherworld knowledge integrated into his mind supplied instant comparisons. This was not unlike perfectly engineered structures—maximum output with minimum waste.
"This body was refined correctly."
Lin Yuan closed his eyes.
Now that survival was no longer in question, it was time to stop testing the result and examine the tool.
The system interface surfaced immediately, crisp and responsive.
[Detailed Status]
[Body]
Condition: Reconstructed
Strength: Far Above Mortal Peak
Durability: Far Above Mortal Peak
Recovery: Extremely High
[Qi Cultivation]
State: Uninitiated
[Soul]
State: Integrated
Stability: Absolute
[Physique]
Type: Unclassified
Status: Dormant
[System Authority]
Level: Basic
He scanned the information calmly.
"No artificial boosts."
"No fake realms."
"Everything here is real."
That pleased him.
A system that inflated numbers without substance was a dead end. He had read enough stories—absorbed enough failures—to know that shortcuts without structure always collapsed.
This system did not do that.
It multiplied reality.
Lin Yuan dismissed the panel and immediately shifted focus.
Qi.
This had been the wall that stopped him his entire life.
He extended his perception outward.
The world responded.
Spiritual energy drifted through the air, thin but omnipresent, like dust carried by the wind. Before, he had never felt it. Not once. It might as well not have existed.
Now, it was obvious.
"So this is what sensing Qi actually feels like."
There was no awe.
Only confirmation.
He did not sit down.
He did not assume a meditative posture.
He stood where he was, feet planted firmly against stone and soil.
"Cultivation rules exist because most people can't handle breaking them."
"That doesn't apply to me anymore."
Lin Yuan recalled the basic Qi breathing method taught to children of the Lin Family. He knew every flaw in it. He knew how inefficient it was, how much Qi it wasted, how slowly it worked.
He also knew something else.
It was stable.
Stability was not something to discard.
It was something to refine.
He focused his intent.
Not cautiously.
Not tentatively.
Decisively.
[Target identified: Basic Qi Breathing Method]
[Status: Existing technique confirmed]
"Improve it."
"Improve everything that matters."
The system responded instantly.
No delay.
No hesitation.
[Amplification applied: Quality increased ten-thousand times]
[Amplification applied: Compatibility increased ten-thousand times]
[Amplification applied: Efficiency increased ten-thousand times]
The technique transformed.
Not visually.
Not theatrically.
Internally.
Breathing rhythm adjusted to perfection. Posture corrected itself instinctively. Qi pathways aligned with his reconstructed body as though they had always been meant to exist this way.
Lin Yuan inhaled.
The world answered.
Qi surged toward him—not violently, but irresistibly. Spiritual energy flowed into his body in thick streams, far denser than what an ordinary Qi Condensation cultivator could manage.
His meridians did not resist.
They welcomed it.
His dantian did not reject it.
It compressed it.
Heat bloomed in his lower abdomen.
Not chaotic.
Controlled.
Dense.
Lin Yuan did not stop.
He did not slow.
He continued breathing.
Each cycle drew in more Qi.
Each cycle compressed it further.
Each cycle refined it.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
Qi that would normally take weeks for a beginner to gather accumulated in moments. The warmth in his dantian condensed, rotating slowly, forming structure rather than dispersing.
Crack.
Something shifted.
The threshold shattered.
Lin Yuan stepped into Qi Condensation.
Not cautiously.
Not barely.
Firmly.
The system interface updated.
[Qi Cultivation: Qi Condensation — Initial Stage]
[Qi Quality: Extremely Refined]
[Foundation Stability: Perfect]
Lin Yuan opened his eyes.
Qi flowed through his body smoothly, responding instantly to intent. There was no turbulence, no leakage, no instability.
"So this is what a proper Qi Condensation looks like."
He had crossed a realm that had blocked him for sixteen years—in minutes.
Not because he rushed blindly.
But because he could.
He did not stop.
Most cultivators stopped here to stabilize.
They had to.
He did not.
"This foundation can handle more."
He felt it clearly.
He continued.
Qi poured in faster.
The dantian compressed further.
The spiral of energy tightened, density increasing rather than volume expanding uselessly.
His Qi did not grow wild.
It grew sharp.
Crack.
Another threshold collapsed.
[Qi Cultivation: Qi Condensation — Mid Stage]
Lin Yuan exhaled slowly.
His expression remained calm.
No elation.
No arrogance.
Just assessment.
"Still stable."
"Good."
He stopped only when the environment itself became the limiting factor.
The surrounding Qi thinned visibly, drawn toward him faster than it could replenish. Continuing would yield diminishing returns.
That was not caution.
That was efficiency.
Lin Yuan straightened and looked toward the distant horizon.
"This speed will only increase in proper environments."
"Spirit veins."
"Secret realms."
"Cultivation grounds."
He already knew where he was heading.
As he stepped forward again, Qi naturally circulated through his body, reinforcing muscles, sharpening senses, and strengthening his already abnormal physique.
Body cultivation and Qi cultivation did not conflict.
They merged.
Lin Yuan's gaze turned cold.
"The Lin Family still thinks I'm dead."
"That's good."
"They'll continue to think that."
Until the day he decided otherwise.
He did not need revenge immediately.
He needed dominance.
And dominance required time used correctly, not hesitation.
With the system fully understood, his cultivation ignited, and his path chosen, Lin Yuan walked toward the wider world with absolute certainty.
This was not the rise of a cautious survivor.
This was the acceleration of someone who knew exactly what kind of monster he was becoming—
And had no intention of slowing down.