Since receiving the name Xuan Shen, his existence within the Empty Nirvana subtly yet fundamentally changed.
He did not suddenly become stronger.
There was no surge of power.
No explosive leap in comprehension.
And yet… his existence became complete.
That name was like an anchor, preventing his being from dissolving back into emptiness. Where he once existed like a drifting wave—sometimes merging with the Empty Nirvana—he had now become a vortex with a center.
And precisely because of this, his next stage of cultivation became far more dangerous.
"Now," the powerful figure said one day, "you are no longer cultivating merely to survive."
Xuan Shen aligned his consciousness.
"Then what is the purpose of my cultivation now?"
"To realize that your existence… is abnormal."
The Empty Nirvana trembled faintly.
Xuan Shen did not respond immediately. He had long known that his existence differed from the ancient beings here. He had assumed it was simply because he was once human.
But the tone of that statement was different.
This was not comparison.
It was a warning.
"You were not born of the Empty Nirvana," the figure continued. "Yet you are no longer entirely from your original world either."
Something pulsed within the core of Xuan Shen's being.
Something he had never noticed before.
"How is that possible?" he asked quietly.
The powerful figure did not answer directly. Instead, it directed its will toward the surrounding space.
In an instant, the structure of the Empty Nirvana changed.
It did not collapse.
It did not shatter.
It was folded.
Layer upon layer of emptiness peeled back, revealing something akin to a mirror—not a visual mirror, but a reflection of existence itself.
"Look at yourself," the figure said.
Xuan Shen looked.
And for the first time since entering the Empty Nirvana…
he saw himself.
Not a form.
Not a body.
But a pattern of existence.
He saw the core of his consciousness rotating, composed of layers of understanding, experience, will—and something unfamiliar.
Something out of alignment.
"Do you feel it?" the powerful figure asked.
Xuan Shen remained silent for a long time.
"There is… a discontinuity," he finally said. "As if part of my existence does not follow the same flow."
"Correct," the figure replied. "That is your first crack."
The word crack echoed heavily.
"What does it mean?" Xuan Shen asked.
"It means," the figure answered calmly, "that your existence was not formed naturally."
Xuan Shen did not feel surprised.
But he felt… cold.
"The ancient beings of the Empty Nirvana," the figure continued, "are born from emptiness itself. They may be wild, unstable, or violent—but their existence is complete."
"You are different."
"You are like… a formula that has been rearranged."
Xuan Shen recalled something.
The moment of his death.
When the ancient being attacked him, destroyed his body, and scattered his consciousness.
At that moment, he did not fully die.
Nor did he fully endure.
He was… reassembled.
"Was I… created?" he asked.
The powerful figure fell silent for a long time before answering.
"I do not know who did it," it finally said. "Nor whether it was intentional or accidental."
"But I know one thing."
"Your existence contains a principle that should not exist within the Empty Nirvana."
Xuan Shen's cultivation shifted direction from that moment on.
Previously, he had learned to harmonize himself with emptiness. Now, he was forced to confront the discontinuity within himself.
The powerful figure created extreme conditions.
It compressed layers of the Empty Nirvana until the pressure of existence multiplied severalfold. Ancient beings he once could confront now became lethal threats.
Yet the greatest challenge did not come from outside.
It came from within.
Every time Xuan Shen condensed his existence, the crack became clearer.
He felt a strange sensation—as though two different principles were attempting to govern a single being.
One principle followed the laws of the Empty Nirvana.
The other… did not.
He failed repeatedly.
In several failures, his existence nearly unraveled permanently.
If not for the powerful figure stabilizing him, Xuan Shen was certain he would have vanished.
"Do not suppress it," the figure said one day. "You keep trying to force your existence into uniformity."
"That is a mistake."
"Then what should I do?" Xuan Shen asked.
"Separate them."
The word shook his consciousness.
"Separate… myself?"
"Not separation," the figure corrected. "Acknowledgment."
"Your existence is not a homogeneous whole. You must understand its layers."
Thus, Xuan Shen began doing something he had never attempted before.
He began to observe himself as an object of cultivation.
He traced every layer of his consciousness.
Every understanding he possessed.
Every reaction he had toward emptiness.
And slowly… he discovered something shocking.
At the deepest core of his existence was a structure independent of emptiness.
That structure neither absorbed the principles of the Empty Nirvana
nor rejected them.
It was… neutral.
As though it had been designed to adapt anywhere.
"There it is," the powerful figure said when Xuan Shen realized it. "The seed of your anomaly."
"What is it?" Xuan Shen asked.
"I do not know its name," the figure admitted. "But I know its function."
"It is the foundation of a body that can survive in any world."
The words left Xuan Shen silent for a long time.
A body.
He suddenly realized something.
Since entering the Empty Nirvana, he had never truly possessed a body—yet his existence had always implicitly formed a bodily framework.
He had never questioned it.
"Does that mean…" he murmured, "the body I will possess later…"
"Will not be ordinary," the figure finished.
The next phase of training became even more extreme.
Xuan Shen was forced to suppress the neutral structure, then release it.
He forced it to resonate with emptiness, then separated it again.
Each attempt eroded his existence, yet deepened his understanding.
He began to realize something terrifying—and magnificent.
That structure… learned.
Not learning like a living being.
But adapting on an existential level.
Every failure altered it slightly.
Every near-destruction made it more stable.
"I understand now," Xuan Shen said one day.
"What do you understand?" the powerful figure asked.
"The body is not a container," Xuan Shen replied slowly. "The body is… a result."
"A result of existential understanding."
The powerful figure laughed softly—the first time Xuan Shen had ever heard such a sound.
"You are faster than I expected."
But the laughter soon faded.
"And because of that," the figure continued, "your future will be far more dangerous."
"If you are reborn…"
"You will not merely become a cultivator."
"You will become an anomaly."
The word echoed heavily.
Xuan Shen did not feel fear.
Instead… he felt curiosity.
"If my body is a result," he said, "then I want to construct it myself."
The powerful figure stared at him for a long time.
"Do you understand what you are saying?" it asked.
"I do," Xuan Shen replied firmly. "And that is precisely why I wish to do it."
A long silence enveloped the Empty Nirvana.
Finally, the figure nodded slowly.
"Then," it said, "the next phase of your training will determine one thing."
"What is it?" Xuan Shen asked.
"Whether you are worthy… to be reborn."
In the distance, the Empty Nirvana trembled faintly.
As if… something hidden had begun to awaken.