Shen Li didn't remember much about being six years old, but he remembered the cold stone courtyard. He remembered the first time his father placed a cultivation manual in his hands and said, "If you want strength, start here." At that age, Shen Li didn't understand what strength really meant. He only understood that it was something everyone around him valued, so he sat down cross-legged and started cultivating like an obedient child.
The first three years passed in a blur. Qi Gathering wasn't difficult for him; it felt natural, like his body had been waiting for it. By nine, he could already control the flow of qi through his meridians with more ease than most adults in their twenties. Elders called him gifted, but Shen Li never paid attention. Talent meant nothing if he didn't push it.
At twelve, he stepped into Foundation Establishment. He still remembered that day clearly. His body felt like someone had poured molten metal into it, burning away every impurity while reforging every inch of bone and flesh. When it ended, he suddenly sensed the world much more clearly. The wind felt sharper, qi richer, danger more obvious. It was a pleasant feeling, clean and steady.
But reaching that stage was the easy part.
The next seven years were where he learned what patience meant.
Shen Li never rushed cultivation. Foundation Establishment was the stage that determined his limit. He refined his qi countless times, slowly merging it with a faint comprehension of sword intent and flame intent. He sparred against other geniuses, fought in the wilderness, killed beasts, meditated under waterfalls, and nearly died more than once. Every elder who saw his progress said the same thing, if he kept going at that pace, Core Formation would come naturally.
They were half-right.
At twenty-one, Shen Li finally broke through to Core Formation. It wasn't flashy. It wasn't something grand. He simply sat under an old pine tree, circulating his qi, and a golden core began to condense within him. That was all. A calm, stable breakthrough. As if he'd simply taken the next step of a journey he already understood.
But Core Formation was not the end.
Over the next year, he polished that core until it shined like a miniature sun within his dantian. He refined techniques, deepened his Dao perception, and pushed himself toward the limit of Core Formation. By twenty-two, Shen Li stood at the peak. One step left. Half-step Nascent Soul. A stage only a small handful in the region could reach.
He could feel the threshold waiting for him every time he meditated. It was like a door half-open, inviting him inside.
Shen Li sat at the center of the quiet chamber, legs crossed, eyes closed. The room belonged to the Profound Sky Sword Sect's Inner Hall, a place reserved for cultivators attempting major breakthroughs. The stone walls were covered with formation lines that reduced external noise and stabilized qi flow. For most people, this place meant pressure. For Shen Li, it was routine.
His foundation was clean, his sword intent sharp, and his qi sea stable. He could already sense the faint outline of a Nascent Soul, but the final step refused to budge and today, he was going to push through.
His breathing slowed. His mind emptied.
The world around him disappeared as he sank inward.
Inside his dantian, the vast golden core spun with steady force. Qi flowed from the meridians into the core, condensing, pushing, compressing. He guided the process with practiced calm. There was no excitement, no fear. Breakthroughs were supposed to be dangerous, but panic only caused mistakes. He kept his thoughts straight.
More qi surged around his core. Threads of spiritual force tried to form the base of the Nascent Soul. It was vague, incomplete, like a shadow that refused to solidify.
Shen Li knew this part. He had read many manuals on Nascent Soul advancement. He had watched elders give lectures about the process. But knowing theory and attempting it were two different matters.
He increased the pressure. Qi roared through his meridians. His bones vibrated. His mind felt as if someone pressed a hand directly against his consciousness.
Too slow, Shen Li thought. The core isn't compressing fast enough.
He pushed more.
Outside the chamber, a thin hum of spiritual energy rose, but Shen Li didn't notice it.
Inside his dantian, the golden core began to crack. Not in a destructive way, this was the expected stage. Every cultivator needed to shatter their core at the right moment so the Nascent Soul could take shape.
The cracks widened. Energy leaked out. His meridians strained. The pressure reached the edges of what his body could handle.
Then the surrounding void shook.
At first, Shen Li dismissed it as a normal reaction. Worldly qi tended to fluctuate around someone attempting a high-level breakthrough. But this time, the tremor spread farther. His skin tingled as if the air itself twisted.
Shen Li frowned slightly. He kept his mind steady but noted the change.
A second tremor followed, stronger than the first. The air thinned. A light cracking noise echoed through the chamber, not from his body but from space itself.
He opened his eyes.
Above him, the air had a faint distortion. It looked like a ripple on the surface of water.
Shen Li stared at it without emotion. A spatial crack? It wasn't common, but breakthrough storms caused strange things. The pressure he released during the attempt must have interacted with unstable space. The Profound Sky Sword Sect's mountain barrier was strong, yet not perfect. He concluded it was simply bad timing.
He closed his eyes again and continued.
The golden core shattered.
A wave of spiritual force exploded through his dantian. His consciousness trembled. A small cluster of qi began clumping together, swirling, trying to form consciousness, shape, identity.
This was the birth of the Nascent Soul.
Shen Li guided it with precision. Even with the pressure from outside, he didn't lose control.
But the spatial crack widened.
The air split. A sharp, tearing sound rang across the room. The distortion above him opened into a ragged gap. Darkness swirled around the edges, like an endless void pulling the world inward.
Shen Li felt his qi fluctuate.
The half-formed Nascent Soul trembled.
He focused quickly and reinforced it, but the surrounding space pulled at his spiritual force. It wasn't just a random tear anymore. It was sucking in everything; qi, air, force, even consciousness.
The chamber's formation lines flickered. Shen Li sensed the instability and evaluated his options.
He had two choices; stop the breakthrough and stabilize his core or continue and risk everything.
He made his decision instantly.
Stopping halfway means inner injuries. Not an option.
He pushed forward.
The pressure doubled. His meridians shook. His bones creaked. The half-forming Nascent Soul compressed further, trying to solidify. But the spatial crack didn't slow down. It grew larger, pulling directly at his dantian.
Shen Li frowned lightly. This was no longer normal. Something had gone wrong. The tear shouldn't have reacted to his breakthrough like this. The suction wasn't natural.
The next moment, the crack extended downward. The edges twisted, forming a spiraling funnel that wrapped around his body.
The world tilted.
Shen Li tried to anchor his qi into the ground, but the suction was too strong. His cultivation was in the middle of transforming. His foundation was unstable. He couldn't resist properly.
The half-formed Nascent Soul flickered. His qi pathways convulsed. He felt a sharp pain in his chest.
The spatial force pulled at his consciousness.
Within seconds, he was dragged upward.
Stone, formations, sect grounds, everything disappeared in a blur of distorted light. He felt his spiritual sea collapse. His qi scattered. The half-formed Nascent Soul shattered violently. The pain shot straight through his soul, but his mind stayed steady.
Unfortunate timing, Shen Li thought. But this isn't death.
His final thought before losing awareness was simple and calm.
Wherever this goes, I'll rebuild from the start.
Then everything went black.