"…So it worked?" he whispered, still not entirely convinced.
A strange laugh slipped out of him—soft, shaky, a little dumb.
"This is great…"
His heart was still beating too fast. His back was damp with sweat. Part of him wanted to lie down and never move again. Another part of him wanted to scream. Another part still couldn't believe he was alive.
He had been emptied.
Broken.
Rebuilt.
And somehow… he was still him.
Lu Haotian leaned back and stared into the empty space.
"So," he said to no one in particular, voice dry, "does this mean I'm not useless anymore… or am I just in more trouble now?"
The space, unsurprisingly, didn't answer.
The stone slab stayed silent too.
Lu Haotian snorted.
"Figures."
He closed his eyes and took a long breath, forcing his racing thoughts to slow down.
Whatever came next—
He'd deal with it.
Later.
Right now, he just needed a moment.
When he opened his eyes again, they weren't calm or deep or ancient.
They were simply alert.
And very, very awake.Lu Haotian relaxed a little after confirming that his body hadn't fallen apart.
His meridians were still there.
Actually… they felt bigger. Tougher. Like thin streams that had been forcibly widened into rivers.
His dantian, too, felt deeper than before—empty at the moment, but solid. Stable.
"Okay…" he muttered. "I'm still alive."
Just as he was about to stand—
A strange sensation bloomed between his brows.
Not pain.
Not pressure either.
More like… an itch.
A gentle tug.
As if something unseen was asking to be opened.
"Huh?"
Lu Haotian frowned and rubbed the spot with two fingers. Nothing changed. The sensation remained, faint but persistent.
Then, without really knowing why, he focused on it.
The world shifted.
It was subtle—so subtle that he almost missed it.
But then—
✨ Boom. ✨
Information flooded in.
Not sights.
Not sounds.
Awareness.
Lu Haotian sucked in a sharp breath.
He could feel himself.
Not just muscles and bones—but inside.
Qi flowed through his meridians like glowing threads. His dantian appeared as a dim whirlpool beneath his navel. Even the faint scars left behind by the seed's destruction and rebirth were visible—raw, fresh, still stabilizing.
His eyes flew open.
"…WHAT."
His heart leapt into his throat.
He tried again—concentrating between his brows—
And the inner view snapped back into place.
Clearer this time.
"HOLY—!"
He clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, then immediately dropped it, grinning like an idiot.
"I can see it?!"
Qi sense.
The realization hit him a heartbeat later.
His smile froze—then stretched even wider.
"No way," he whispered. "No way, no way, no way."
That was impossible.
Qi sense was supposed to appear only after Foundation Establishment—after forming qi pillars, after breaking past Qi Condensation entirely.
And yet—
Here it was.
Weak.
Shallow.
But undeniably real.
Lu Haotian didn't even think anymore.
He pushed it outward.
The sensation between his brows pulsed—and suddenly, his awareness spilled out of his body like water escaping a cracked dam.
"OHHHH—!"
He jerked in surprise.
The white space around him came alive.
He could feel the ambient qi drifting nearby, soft and gentle, like mist brushing against his skin. He could sense fluctuations farther out—eddies where elemental qi gathered more densely, thin currents flowing slowly through the void.
"This is insane!" he laughed.
He swept his awareness left—
Then right—
Then farther.
Too far.
His head swam.
"Oof—!"
He staggered, grabbing his temples as dizziness hit him hard.
The qi sense flickered and collapsed instantly.
Lu Haotian dropped onto his backside with a dull thump, blinking rapidly.
"…Ow."
A second passed.
Then he burst out laughing.
"So this is qi sense," he said, rubbing his head. "That almost knocked me out."
He tried again—more carefully this time.
Just a little.
The qi sense reappeared, thinner now, like a candle flame instead of a torch. He kept it close, cautious.
Still—
Amazing.
He checked his body again.
His meridians looked nothing like before. Where they had once been narrow and fragile, they were now wide channels reinforced by faint five-colored traces. His qi pool—no longer just a shallow swirl—had expanded into a broad basin, capable of holding far more qi than his realm should allow.
"No wonder that seed nearly killed me," he muttered.
Then something clicked.
"…Wait."
If he could see qi—
Then…
He turned his attention outward again, carefully this time, and watched as ambient qi brushed against him.
It was fast.
And it was responding.
Tiny wisps drifted toward his body on their own.
Lu Haotian's eyes lit up.
"Oh. Oh! OH!"
He immediately sat cross-legged and began circulating qi—carefully, deliberately.
This time, the moment he opened his circulation—
The surrounding qi flowed in.
Not violently.
Not painfully.
It gathered, drawn toward his widened meridians and deepened dantian like water finding a low point.
His cultivation rose steadily.
Eighth layer.
Higher.
He didn't stop.
There was no resistance.
No bottleneck.
The qi sense—unstable as it was—gave him just enough awareness to guide the flow, to prevent imbalance.
By the time the surrounding qi thinned and his circulation naturally slowed, his dantian pulsed once—firm, full, stable.
Peak of the Eighth Qi Condensation Layer.
Lu Haotian exhaled slowly.
Then smiled.
Not smug.
Not arrogant.
Just… bright.
"…This is so unfair my cultivationspeed is about hundred times more faster than before," he said happily.
He leaned back, hands on the ground, staring up into the white space with a stupid grin.
Somewhere deep inside, the five-colored roots pulsed—new, alive, waiting.
Lu Haotian stretched his arms lazily.
"Well," he said cheerfully, "guess I better not tell anyone about this."