The sun dipped below the jagged peaks of the Silvermist Ravine, casting long shadows across Han Wei’s newly completed cultivation grotto. The air was thick with the scent of fresh earth and the faint hum of spiritual energy.

  Han Wei stood at the center of the grotto, inspecting a small willow sapling he had planted days ago for signs of growth. Its few leaves shimmered faintly, catching the last rays of sunlight.

  He was immensely proud of the grotto, it was a testament to his ingenuity - a fusion of his modern gardening knowledge and the ancient cultivation techniques he had scavenged from the sect’s libraries.

  The formations were unorthodox, blending feng shui principles with spiritual arrays to create a space where natural qi was perfectly tailored to be absorbed by human cultivation. As he stood there, lost in thought, a voice broke the silence.

  “Elder Han,” the voice called, smooth and measured. “I must say, this is… unexpected.”

  Han Wei felt a spike of fear at the interruption, but managed to hold himself still. Thankfully his disguise technique was already active, hiding his cultivation level, but he couldn’t help the pervasive fear that his injury would be discovered.

  Han Wei turned slowly, mentally adopting the calm demeanor of Elder Han, to see Elder Feng’s reed thin form standing at the entrance to the courtyard, his hands clasped behind his back. The elder’s sharp eyes scanned the grotto, taking in the formation pathways and lush greenery.

  “Elder Feng,” Han Wei greeted, giving the slight half-bow appropriate to his station. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I heard rumours of activity at your home,” Feng answered, his voice polite but laced with an undercurrent of skepticism. He did not return the bow. “I thought it best to investigate. After all, it’s not every day that a guest elder transforms their courtyard into… whatever this is.”

  Han Wei forced a slight smile, his mind racing. He had hoped to keep his work hidden, at least until he was ready to reveal it. But Elder Feng’s unexpected visit had thrown a wrench in his plans.

  “It’s a cultivation grotto,” Han Wei explained, keeping his tone light. “I thought it might be beneficial for my disciples. A space where they can cultivate in harmony with nature.”

  Elder Feng raised an eyebrow. “A noble goal,” he said, though his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Though your methods are… unconventional. I’ve never seen formations like these before. They’re not from any of the sect’s approved texts.”

  Han Wei kept the slight smile on his face through sheer force of will. “I’ve always believed in adapting techniques to suit one’s needs. These formations are a blend of principles I picked up in my travels, designed to harmonize natural spiritual energy with human cultivation.”

  “Experimentation can be dangerous, Elder Han. Especially when it comes to cultivation. The wrong technique, the wrong formation… it can lead to disaster.”

  There was a weight to his words, a subtle warning that sent a chill down Han Wei’s spine. He met Elder Feng’s gaze, his expression calm but guarded.

  “I appreciate your concern, Elder Feng. But I assure you, I have experience in this.”

  Feng’s expression remained impassive, but his eyes narrowed slightly. “Adaptation is one thing, Elder Han. But straying too far from the established path can lead to… complications. Especially for someone in your position.”

  An unspoken implication hung heavy in the air. Han Wei’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his composure. Did he mean my position as a guest elder? Or does he suspect I have an issue with my cultivation? He couldn't possibly know about my mind being a messed up blend of two different lives could he?

  Heavens above I have too many problems.

  “Again, I appreciate your concern.” Han Wei barely held onto his composure. “But surely you can sense that the energies here are harmless. I do know what I’m doing.”

  “Do you?” Feng stepped closer, his voice dropping. “Elder Zhang has been asking questions about you. He’s not one to let… irregularities go unnoticed.” He eyed Han Wei meaningfully before continuing.

  “I am aware of the heavy demands of your type of cultivation, and I hope you intend to be careful in your methods, when training disciples. The sect will brook no harm coming to our own while you are still a guest elder.”

  Han Wei’s stomach churned, but he nodded. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind.” He knows about the strange cultivation deviation I sensed! Desperate for more information and yet completely unable to ask, Elder Han just waited quietly - outwardly projecting a calm he did not feel.

  Elder Feng studied him for a moment longer, then turned to leave. “Good fortune, Elder Han. I suspect you’ll need it.”

  As Feng’s figure disappeared into the twilight, Han Wei let out a shaky breath. The warning was clear: Elder Zhang was watching him closely, and his unusual methods were drawing unwanted attention. But he couldn’t afford to stop now. His survival depended on stabilizing his cultivation, no matter the cost.

  But he couldn’t afford to dwell on it. He had work to do. The disciple selection ceremony was only two more weeks away, and he needed to be able to properly use his qi by then. With a deep breath, he turned back to the grotto, his resolve hardening.

  That night, Han Wei activated the qi gathering array to give himself some privacy once more and sat cross-legged in the centre of the courtyard. A faint glow illuminated the garden from the bleed off of the spiritual energy being guided through the grotto.

  He closed his eyes and, with a quiet breath, began the Whispering Willow Soul Blossoming Sutra. It was a weak method, totally unsuitable as a main cultivation technique, but its gentle healing nature made it ideal for his damaged soul.

  As he focused, he felt the familiar tug of his shredded soul, like a frayed tapestry being pulled back together. The pain was excruciating, a searing ache that radiated through his entire being, but he clenched his teeth and endured.

  He wanted to say that it was the worst pain he had ever endured, but that prize went to when he had first tried to cultivate after his injury. Unfortunately, this pain lasted. Every second he cultivated was an agony that washed over him in a never ending torrent.

  Slowly, excruciatingly, he guided the torn pieces of his soul back into place. Hours passed, and the pain gradually lessened. It was still worse than anything he had experienced in his previous life, but it was no longer on the edge of unbearable.

  Han Wei opened his eyes, his body drenched in sweat. He could feel the difference - his soul was already more stable. The fraying edges pushed back together, even if they were not yet healed.

  He still needed vastly more work to begin truly healing the damage, but the first step was taken. And now he needed to rest. Even if physically he could ignore fatigue, mentally was a different story and he was exhausted from that first cultivation session.

  He shut down the gathering formation, trying to note where the qi was bleeding into light in the courtyard - he would need to fix that in the morning. But first, bed.

  Over the next week, he continued to work on his grotto between cultivation sessions. Optimising the energy pathways, adding more plants, trying to tempt some of the small spirit animals to take up residence, until he could feel the energies becoming so well aspected that they began to seep into his body every time he let down his disguise technique.

  This passive boost to his body cultivation foundations was not something he had expected. But even after careful examination he determined that it could only provide benefits. Infinitesimal benefits to be sure, and ones that would only show if he ever took up body cultivation, but he couldn’t afford to dismiss any possible advantage.

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  For several days, he focused solely on the Whispering Willow Soul Blossoming Sutra, slowly but surely mending the fragments of his soul. But a thought began to gnaw at him - a thought he had been too afraid to entertain at first.

  What if I tried my primary cultivation technique again?

  The idea was both thrilling and terrifying. His primary technique, the Celestial River Refinement Method, was a powerful dharmic cultivation art that had once allowed him to channel vast amounts of spiritual energy. His soul was still damaged, true, but if it was healed just enough to cultivate again then perhaps he could heal his foundation.

  Perhaps he could step back into the golden core realms.

  If he could heal his foundation, then he could step forward from the peak of the Foundation Consolidation realm. Passing the first great divide to the Core Building realm would be a huge boost to his power and to his ability to stay with the sect.

  It would prove he wasn’t a cripple and that this was just a temporary set back. It would change everything.

  It was risky, his soul was nowhere near healed, and yet, as he sat there, feeling the steady hum of his spiritual energy, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was ready. Or at least, ready to try.

  Han Wei took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he formed the first seal of the Celestial River Refinement Method. The familiar motions came to him instinctively, like muscle memory. As he began to channel his spiritual energy, he braced himself for the pain, for the inevitable backlash that would come from pushing his damaged soul too far.

  But to his surprise, the pain didn’t come. Instead, he felt a gentle warmth spreading through his body, like a river of light flowing through his meridians. His spiritual energy, once chaotic and fractured, now moved with a sense of purpose, guided by the familiar rhythm of his primary technique.

  Han Wei’s eyes flew open, his heart pounding with a mixture of disbelief and joy. “It’s working,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “It’s actually working!”

  Hope soared in his chest. His soul was still scarred, yes, but it was stable enough to handle his primary technique. He could feel the cracks in his cultivation foundation beginning to mend, slowly, achingly slowly, but inevitably - the spiritual energy flowing more smoothly than it had in weeks.

  He closed his eyes again, focusing on the technique with renewed determination. The Celestial River Refinement Method was like an old friend, its rhythms comforting and familiar.

  But as the initial rush of joy began to fade, a new realization dawned on him. While his foundation was healing, it was healing far far too slowly. It was obvious what the reason was - his cultivation technique relied on the strength of his soul and the conviction of his way. And his soul needed to be in much better shape to advance.

  The days blurred together as Han Wei continued his relentless pace.

  Each morning, he would rise before dawn, his body stiff and aching from the previous night’s cultivation. The Whispering Willow Soul Blossoming Sutra was gentle, but the toll it took on his spirit was undeniable. The pain in his soul not fading for hours after he had finished cultivation and only partially helped by forcing himself to sleep.

  He would work on his martial forms in the morning - combat was a core part of the cultivation world and he had to ensure that he fully retained the skill of the old Elder Han even with his lowered strength.

  After that he would spend time in the libraries, reading anything and everything from martial arts manuscripts to butchering guides.

  In the afternoon he would work on his grotto. He would refine it like a treasure, each small improvement would give a boost to the Whispering Willow Soul Blossoming Sutra and speed the healing of his soul.

  As the sun was setting he would activate the privacy and gathering formations once again, and start to cultivate for as long as he could bear.

  His routine started with the Celestial River Refinement Method, this way he could measure how his progress was affecting it and continue repairing his foundation at the same time. After a session of spiritual cultivation he would then switch to soul cultivation. Enduring the intense agony with a determined grimace until the benefits began to taper off.

  Then he went to sleep once more to recover and allow his soul cultivation to settle. And, before the break of dawn, would begin again.

  His intense routine bore fruit, it was only the end of his third week in this world and already the cracks in his cultivation foundation were nearly invisible to his senses. But something wasn’t quite as he had hoped.

  While his soul was definitely healing, the scars from where it was damaged remained. They were like deep fissures in a mountain, impossible to ignore. It wasn’t the fault of the technique - the technique was still healing some of the damage and was now starting to strengthen his soul directly. No, it was simply that there were small slivers of his soul missing.

  Soul damage could heal - given enough time - but missing pieces? That was beyond his technique.

  And adding insult to injury, he still couldn’t use the full strength of his primary cultivation method.

  He opened his eyes, staring up at the endless sky as the weight of his realization settled over him. “I can’t advance,” he murmured, his voice heavy with resignation. “Not until my soul is fully healed.”

  The gap between the peak of the Foundation Consolidation realm and the first steps of the Core Building realm was called the great divide for a reason. Without the full power of his method there was no way he could pass that bottleneck.

  That evening, as he sat in his usual place at the centre of the grotto to cultivate, the weight of his situation finally crashed down on him. The realization that he might never regain his former strength, that he might forever be trapped in this weakened state, was a bitter pill to swallow. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as frustration and despair threatened to overwhelm him.

  “Is this it?” he muttered, his voice trembling. “Am I just going to be hiding my cultivation until I get discovered? Until I get thrown out of the sect?” He couldn’t remember what danger awaited him outside the safety of the sect, but the certainty that it would kill him - weakened as he was - was bone deep.

  For the first time since his rebirth, Han Wei allowed himself to truly feel the weight of his despair. He slumped against the large stone he had so lovingly carved only a week ago, his shoulders shaking as tears streamed down his face. The memories of his past life - mundane but safe - flashed before his eyes.

  He had been an ordinary man, content with his garden and his quiet existence. Now, he was thrust into a world of danger and deceit, his very survival hanging by a thread.

  “Why me?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want this.”

  But even as the words left his lips, he knew they were hollow. He had asked for this, in a way. Elder Han was as much him now as simple Han Wei, and Elder Han had sought power. He had reached for something greater, and it had cost him everything. And now, Han Wei was left to pick up the pieces.

  The next morning, Han Wei woke with a start, his body stiff and his mind foggy. He had fallen asleep still in the courtyard, his face streaked with dried tears. The grotto was bathed in the soft light of dawn and still glowing with the hints of spirituality from the gathering formation he had left active all night.

  The air was crisp and filled with the scent of dew. For a moment, he simply sat there, simply taking in the quiet beauty of what he had created.

  Then, something caught his eye. A sprout, no taller than half the length of his palm, had appeared near the base of one of the willow saplings. It was delicate, its leaves trembling in the morning breeze, but it was alive. Han Wei frowned, leaning closer. He hadn’t planted it. It shouldn’t have been there. It was far too early for volunteer plants to appear in a garden.

  As he studied the small unexpected growth, a thought began to form in his mind. The Whispering Willow Soul Blossoming Sutra was gentle, yes, but it was also persistent. It worked slowly, steadily, bolstering the material of his soul like the slow growth of a tree. And just as a tree grew stronger over time, so too could his foundation.

  Han Wei’s breath caught as the realization dawned on him. He couldn’t advance - not yet. The scars on his soul were too deep, too severe. But that didn’t mean he was powerless. He could still cultivate. He could still deepen his foundation, strengthen his soul, and still search for treasures.

  He wasn’t trapped, only delayed. And if he kept trying then one day he would advance again - just as long as he didn’t give up.

  The thought was like a spark in the darkness, igniting a fire within him. He scrambled to his feet, his exhaustion forgotten, and began to pace the grotto. His mind raced as he pieced together the implications.

  If he couldn’t yet move forward, he would dig deeper. He would refine his foundation until it was unshakable, until it was so firm that he would be able to step into the next realm regardless of his cultivation technique.

  “It’s not about how fast you climb,” he murmured, echoing a lesson from his past life. “It’s about how strong the ladder is.”

  Over the next few days, Han Wei threw himself into his cultivation with renewed vigor. His goal now was not advancing his realm, but on perfecting the one he was in. He alternated between soul and spiritual cultivation techniques determined to improve in all aspects.

  The pain was still there, a constant reminder of his limitations, but he no longer saw it as a burden. Instead, he embraced it, using it as a gauge for his progress. Each time he pushed through the pain, each time he felt his foundation grow a little stronger, he felt a sense of accomplishment that fueled his determination.

  As the days passed, Han Wei’s resolve only grew stronger. He began to see his situation not as a curse, but as an opportunity. The scars on his soul were a reminder of his past, but they were also a guide for his future. And with each passing day, that foundation grew a little stronger, a little more unshakable.

  One evening, as he sat beneath the willow tree, he felt a shift in his spiritual energy. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. The cracks in his foundation were gone as if they had never been. His foundation was as good as it was two hundred years ago when he was first in this realm.

  Han Wei smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes for the first time in days.

  He wasn’t yet satisfied - he would keep refining and deeping his foundation until he found a new path forward. But when the time came to advance, he knew that he would be ready.