Time lost its meaning in Zayden's new life.
Days blended into each other. There were no clocks or classes, only palace bells, guards changing shifts, and the quiet steps of servants.
To the world, Crown Prince Zayden Aurum was an unusually quiet infant.
To himself, he was wide awake.
Held in silk-lined arms or lying under canopies, Zayden watched everything and listened to every conversation. He remembered faces, voices, and habits.
And he learned.
"The Crown Prince hasn't cried once today."
"He barely cries at all."
"Did you see how he stares? It's unsettling…"
The whispers followed him wherever he was taken.
Zayden paid no attention. Crying wouldn't help. Getting noticed was risky. If this world was anything like the stories he knew, being a special crown prince was as dangerous as it was lucky.
Appear gifted—but never too gifted.
Let that be my rule.
Each morning, Empress Selene visited. She sat by his cradle, presence gentle but heavy with emotion, tracing his tiny fingers.
"My little sun," she murmured one day. "You'll grow strong… stronger than anyone. I can feel it."
Zayden felt something stir within his chest at her words.
She loved him. Truly.
For some reason, that made things even harder.
Emperor Tiberius visited less, but when he did, the chamber's atmosphere shifted. Guards straightened. Servants looked down.
The emperor often stood in silence, looking at Zayden the way someone might study a valuable sword.
"You don't fear me," Tiberius said once, voice low.
Zayden met his gaze without flinching.
A heartbeat passed.
Then the emperor laughed softly. "Good."
So even that's a test, Zayden thought.
The Golden Empire was not ruled by softness.
The first true change came on the seventh day after his birth.
Zayden felt it before anyone else did.
A subtle pressure filled the room, invisible yet unmistakable. The air itself seemed to thrum, as if resonating with some higher frequency.
Cultivators.
Several of them.
The palace doors opened, and three people walked in. Each one gave off a feeling that made Zayden's skin tingle.
Two of them wore long robes with the imperial sect's symbol—a golden dragon wrapped around a rising sun. They moved without a sound, their eyes sharp.
The third was older, with silver-white hair and a straight back. The energy around him was held back, but much stronger.
Zayden thought at once: a monster.
"This humble one greets His Majesty," the old man said, bowing deeply. "I am Grand Elder Jian of the Celestial Meridian Pavilion."
Even the emperor inclined his head slightly in return."You sensed it," Tiberius said. "My son's potential."
"Yes," Jian replied, eyes flicking briefly toward Zayden. "Or rather… he made it impossible not to."
Selene's fingers tightened around the edge of Zayden's cradle.
The Grand Elder moved closer, reaching a finger toward Zayden's forehead, but stopped just short of touching him.
"Do not worry, Your Majesty," Jian said calmly. "I will not probe him directly. His foundation is too pure. Crude inspection could damage it."
Zayden's mind sharpened.
Good. Keep your hands off me.
Instead, Jian closed his eyes. His spiritual sense spread out, invisible but heavy. Zayden felt it touch him like a gentle tide, careful and respectful.
The system stirred.
External spiritual scan detected.
Analysis: Non-hostile. Observation only.
Recommendation: Remain passive.
Zayden complied.
After a long moment, Jian opened his eyes, disbelief flickering across his composed expression.
"He has not absorbed qi," Jian said slowly. "Not even unconsciously."
"That is normal," one of the robed cultivators said.
Jian shook his head. "For a child like this? No. Most babies with these meridians naturally draw in energy. But this one holds himself back."
Silence.
Selene's breath caught.
Tiberius's gaze hardened. "What are you saying?"
"I am saying," Jian replied, voice solemn, "that your son's soul is… exceptionally mature."
Zayden inwardly cursed.
Careful. Too careful.
Jian gave a small smile. "Don't get me wrong. This isn't a flaw. In fact, it shows great control—the kind only top cultivators have."
Tiberius's face changed, showing both pride and careful thought.
"We will announce nothing," the emperor said decisively. "His talent remains known only to those in this room."
"A wise choice," Jian agreed. "Enemies are drawn to brilliance."
Zayden relaxed—just a little.
That night, alone beneath the golden canopy, Zayden turned inward.
He focused on the strange interface hovering at the edge of his consciousness.
Perfect Cultivation Optimiser, he thought. What exactly can you do?
The response was immediate.
Function Clarification:
• Automatically correct flaws in cultivation techniques
• Optimise energy circulation paths
• Maximise efficiency and minimise risk
• Adapt techniques to the Host's unique physiology
Limitation: Requires a source technique to function
Zayden exhaled mentally.
So I still need to learn cultivation manuals.
That meant sects. Teachers. Politics.
And survival until then.
He checked his awareness again, more gently this time. He didn't pull in qi; he just sensed it. The world was full of it, thicker near the palace, moving like hidden rivers through stone and air.
It was intoxicating.
Not yet, he told himself. One mistake could reveal him.
Still, something unexpected happened.
A thin thread of qi slipped into him.
Not from the world.
From himself.
Notice:
Innate Essence detected.
Passive reinforcement is active.
Growth rate: Minimal but stable
Zayden stilled.
Even doing nothing… I'm growing.
A slow smile formed in his mind.
He looked up at the ceiling, listening to the far-off sounds of the palace: guards switching shifts, cultivators meditating in secret rooms, nobles dreaming of power.
None of them knew.
The crown prince did not cry.
He did not struggle.
He did not rush.
He waited.
Because when he finally took his first step onto the path of cultivation,
The world would not be ready for him.