The forest grew quiet. Only the three shriveled corpses bore witness to his rebirth.
"My name… is Wu Han."
He recalled the memories of his new vessel, the so-called young master he had claimed, and began unraveling the truths of this world.
Here, there was no mana. Instead, all relied on something called qi.
It was denser than mana, he thought, feeling the current of energy flowing through his meridians. Harder to control, but its potential stretched far beyond anything my old world could grasp.
He flexed his hand as excitement flickered in his chest, a feeling he had not tasted in ages.
If my vessel grows stronger, I can wield my old sorceries again. With qi as fuel, their power will be unmatched.
From the young master's memories, he understood his position. This body had reached Qi Condensation, Stage Three. Above it lay the realms of Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, and Nascent Soul.
But Wu Han knew these were only the surface. He had witnessed beings who clashed with universes in their palms. Such power could never be confined to four paltry realms. This path was endless.
He grinned. "Now… let's see what this world really looks like."
With a flick of his hand, a thread of shadow lashed into Wu Yaoshi's discarded corpse. The body shuddered, then stood again, not because life returned, but because he controlled it.
"You still remember how to ride a carriage, don't you, brother?" Wu Han murmured. The puppet lurched toward the reins, climbing into position.
Thus, he returned home.
Azure Peak Town.
A middling settlement of more than one million. Its affairs were governed by local families under the Luo clan's oversight, and its security fell to the sects.
The Wu Clan was one such sect, family-ruled, neither strong nor weak, yet not to be underestimated.
As the carriage pulled in, a sharp cry cut the air.
"Wu Han! What did you do to my son?!"
A mature woman rushed forward. Her robes strained against her full chest, her generous curves bouncing with each hurried step, her face flushed with panic and fury.
Wu Han's eyes gleamed.
With a thought, his puppet answered for him, voice cold and tired. "I'm exhausted. I wish to sleep."
Ignoring her, the reanimated Wu Yaoshi shuffled away toward his chambers, his eternal resting place.
My power is still too low to control a puppet perfectly. But this should keep suspicion off me, Wu Han thought, his gaze shifting to the woman.
She was not of Wu blood, an outsider married into the clan. Her husband, the current clan head, was a cultivator at Qi Condensation, Stage Seven. A threat if provoked.
This woman is weak, but her husband is strong. I will need caution… unless I take another vessel.
Yet he lingered.
Women are beautiful creatures. Even at her age, Wu Haoyu still carries the allure of youth; her maturity only makes her more voluptuous.
Desire stirred within him. Once, he only desired power. Now, with his emotions restored, he craved more. He finally understood why demons and humans alike created arts of charm and seduction.
"You! What did you do to him? Did you dare hurt my son?" Wu Haoyu's voice trembled with rage as she confronted him.
Wu Han chuckled. "Nothing. We went hunting together. See? He isn't even wounded."
His dark gaze pierced into hers, and for a heartbeat she faltered, stepping back without realizing it.
Her pulse quickened. She coughed, trying to hide it. "Fine. But don't come near him again. I know you're scheming something."
Wu Han tilted his head, smiling. "What about coming to you, Mistress? Perhaps we could share a drink someday."
Her face flushed crimson. "W-what do you mean?!"
"Hm? Just a friendly invitation. As the grandson of the first elder, shouldn't we settle our differences? Oh… or did you think I was inviting you on a date?"
Her heart skipped. She spun away, flustered. "No! Take your nonsense elsewhere. And don't ever show your face again!"
She stomped off, her face hot, her mind a storm. What's happening to me?
Behind her, an invisible wisp of smoke coiled into her ear and vanished.
Wu Han smirked. A non-cultivator's body is useless to me… but her status may prove beneficial.
Hands folded behind his back, he strode deeper into the Wu Clan estate.
His new "home."
The Wu Clan was a renowned warrior family whose history stretched back a thousand years. Recently, fortune had smiled upon them: the clan head's son was engaged to the daughter of the Luo Clan, a family with indirect ties to the imperial court and absolute control over Azure Peak Town.
She may be my quickest route to power, Wu Han thought. If I can claim her for myself, her resources will be mine as well.
In the quiet of the family courtyard, he began to form a plan.
From the fragments of memory he had absorbed, he already understood this world was brutally unforgiving. A single misstep, a wrong look, could invite death.
But that also means I am free to kill anyone who looks at me the wrong way. Interesting. How does a civilization even survive under morals like this?
He chuckled to himself. Still, the truth remained the same across all worlds. Power was everything.
His vessel was decent but far from ideal. He could not simply keep hopping from body to body. The stronger the vessel, the more weakened it had to be before he could seize it, and each attempt drained his soul.
This body was Qi Condensation Stage Three, respectable but untrained. His predecessor, Wu Han recalled, had coasted on his parents' wealth, swallowing pills instead of cultivating properly. His victories came only from bullying weaker opponents or fleeing from stronger ones. That negligence was why he had been so easy to steal despite being two stages above Wu Yaoshi.
The Lich had been lucky. Without these people, he might have been forced to settle for a common mortal and struggle to even begin his path. But luck could only take him so far. Plans were what led to success.
Perhaps I should seek a place where war rages, he mused. Battlefields are full of near-death cultivators, ripe vessels to pluck. But that risk is too great. Their bodies may die before I can take them. And if I encounter someone too strong, my soul could be annihilated outright.
He exhaled slowly. No… for now, I will strengthen this vessel. This body may be raw and untrained, but it will serve me well.
Another thought tugged at him. His spells, in this world, were considered demonic. That would invite trouble. If discovered, he might be hunted down before he could truly begin.
Nascent Soul, Wu Han decided. I must reach that realm as quickly as possible.
Only then could he anchor his soul fully and unleash the true arsenal of his old magic. With Nascent Soul power, he could command tangible spirits, refine true puppets, and build the foundation for his dark arts. Until then, he was vulnerable.
But neither Wu Han's memories nor Wu Yaoshi's offered any clue how to ascend beyond Core Formation. He would need to seek other sources of knowledge.
For now, the first step was clear.
He closed his eyes, focusing inward, and recalled how to circulate qi.
Wu Han sat cross-legged in his chamber.
Qi tied to breath. Was it wind?
He raised his hands and formed a simple seal, sketching a rune in the air. In his old world, this rune channeled wind. Now he fed qi into it. The rune flickered, catching, and for a moment his breath deepened, the air around him stirring faintly.
But something was wrong.
The energy was too erratic, surging wildly without balance. Yet despite its chaos, it still carried a sense of direction, enough to be diverted toward him, condensing in his dantian.
Wait… diverted?
His eyes narrowed.
This energy isn't truly wind at all. It moves like waves… like water.
He adjusted, reshaping the rune in his mind. The jagged lines of wind bent and curved, softening into arcs and spirals. The qi obeyed instantly, flowing smoother, slipping into his veins like streams finding their riverbeds.
I knew it.
With each cycle, he refined it further. The qi no longer resisted him. It became fluid, responsive, almost alive. His veins stretched, his dantian quivered, and his body groaned under the pressure.
A grin spread across his face.
Let's take it further.
He forced the rune down into his flesh. Burning pain seared through his skin as the glowing lines carved themselves across his chest, arms, and back, etching into bone and vein alike. These were not external seals; they were engravings, living runes branded into his vessel.
The runes pulsed, and qi began to circulate on its own, cycling endlessly even without his conscious focus.
BOOM.
A thunderous crack echoed within his core. His dantian expanded violently, flooding his body with fresh strength.
Threads of black mist hissed from his pores, carrying impurities with them. His bones groaned, his skin tightened, and his blood surged with new vitality.
When it was done, Wu Han opened his eyes. A faint glow traced along his body like hidden tattoos before fading into his skin.
"Qi Condensation, Fourth Stage."
He flexed his hand, and qi rose unbidden, swirling around his palm in a steady flow without effort. His cultivation continued even as he stood, the runes working tirelessly within him.
A laugh escaped his lips.
"I have forged my own method."
His eyes glinted with madness and delight.
If the fools of this world must sit for decades to crawl forward one step… then I will soar past them while sleeping!