When Shen Tian turned eight, everything changed.
It happened in the middle of meditation. He sat under his usual tree—a towering ancient oak whose roots pulsed faintly with spiritual energy. Qi flowed into him smoothly, more smoothly than ever before. Then, abruptly, it surged. His meridians trembled, expanding beyond their natural limits.
His breathing deepened.
His blood heated.
His spirit roared.
The first realm crumbled beneath him like paper, and he stepped into the second, then the third, then the fourth—each breakthrough flowing effortlessly, as if his body had simply waited for this moment. His physique thrummed with endless vitality, amplifying every movement of qi until it became a tidal wave.
The System spoke only once:
"Cultivation speed boosted temporarily. Do not resist."
He didn't. He let the torrent push him forward, feeling his bones resonate with power. His five senses expanded; he could hear wind brushing against blades of grass from miles away, feel the heartbeat of a small bird resting on a branch above him, and sense the distant flicker of cultivators traveling along a mountain path.
Then the final surge hit.
With a deep exhale, he stepped into the Qi Sea Realm.
His eyes snapped open, glowing faintly.
He was only eight years old.
And yet he stood at a realm most adults spent decades struggling to reach.
The forest around him felt different now—smaller, quieter, less intimidating. He moved his fingers and felt qi respond like a loyal servant. His mind sharpened further, pieces of long-lost instinct rising to the surface. Not memories—just instinct. But it was enough to make his heart ache with a feeling he couldn't name.
That night, lying beneath the moonlight, Shen Tian stared at the sky and felt an unseen string tug at his heart.
A call.
A direction.
A destiny.
He didn't know who he had been before. He didn't know what he was meant to become.
But he knew one thing:
This was only the beginning.