Waking up once again, Li Yun felt his stomach growl. The sound grated on his nerves, an unwelcome reminder of his mortal limitations. Frustration bubbled up within him, and before he could stop himself, he groaned loudly. "My lord! You never cease to need food, do you?" His own body was beginning to feel like an insatiable beast, constantly demanding sustenance despite his best efforts to ignore it.

  With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself up from the floor, his muscles stiff from prolonged stillness. He glanced at the grain pills sitting nearby, their dull sheen catching the faint morning light. Not bothering with decorum, he snatched up a handful and shoved them into his mouth, chewing mechanically. The taste was bland, but the relief was instant as the gnawing hunger receded. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. At least that was one problem temporarily dealt with.

  Now, onto more pressing matters.

  Pulling up the system shop, he scrolled through the available items, his gaze landing on the ☆☆☆ Body Refinement Manual – Forged Titan Physique (140 Star Shards). The description intrigued him: "A powerful technique that tempers the body, refining muscles, bones, and organs to withstand greater strain and store latent strength. Enhances durability and grants gradual physical transformation."

  It was exactly what he needed. He had no illusions about his own strength; his body was still leagues behind what he wanted it to be. His muscles lacked the tempered resilience required to withstand true hardship, and his bones, while strong, did not yet carry the weight of true cultivation. The fragility of mortality still clung to him, a shackle he refused to accept. He exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening over the interface, hovering just above the purchase button. This was an investment, a necessary step forward. No hesitation. With a resolute nod, he pressed the button, sealing his decision.

  Ding!

  "Congratulations, Host, for purchasing the Forged Titan Physique Manual! The knowledge will now be directly transferred to your mind."

  A sudden surge of information flooded his consciousness, an overwhelming tide of knowledge that crashed against the walls of his mind. He gasped, his vision blurring as intricate diagrams burned themselves into his memory, each line and stroke etched in searing clarity. Techniques unfolded before him, their complexity twisting like endless threads weaving together a grand tapestry of power. He saw the precise method to temper his bones, the rhythmic breathing patterns to harden his muscles, and the excruciating yet necessary conditioning that would push his body beyond mortal limitations. His jaw tightened, his fingers clenching into fists as his mind struggled to process the sheer magnitude of it all. It felt as if he had lived through years of rigorous training in an instant, the echoes of pain and endurance seeping into his soul. His body instinctively yearned to begin, his muscles twitching with a newfound understanding of what they could become. But he forced himself to remain still, pushing away the urgent need to act. There was still another task he had to complete first.

  Taking a deep breath, he settled into a meditative pose and entered the mind realm.

  —

  The moment he arrived, the little ball shot toward him, vibrating with barely contained excitement. It circled around him, pulsing in rhythmic bursts, as if it had been eagerly awaiting his return.

  "Yeah, yeah, I know. I kept you waiting again," Li Yun said, smirking as he reached out, brushing his fingers against its surface. The ball emitted a pleased hum in response. "I have to admit, it's nice to be welcomed so enthusiastically."

  He let out a breath, letting the weight of his thoughts settle. "This place... it's still a mystery to me," he admitted. "And this peak, the one I woke up on—it's too isolated. There’s something about it that doesn’t sit right with me."

  The little ball hovered closer, pulsing as though listening intently.

  "Before I came here, my life was... different. I wasn’t strong. I wasn’t special. Just another person, trying to get by." His voice grew quieter. "I had things I cared about, things I wanted. But no matter what, I always felt like I was running in circles. Like no matter how far I walked, I'd end up right where I started."

  The little ball trembled, then suddenly began to spin, gathering energy from the surrounding void. Light flared, illuminating the darkness, and the energy within it surged outward like a rushing tide. Li Yun gasped as his own body reacted—his dantian shuddered violently, rampant qi thrashing like an untamed beast. The little ball darted forward, weaving through his energy channels with precision. It was taming the chaos, guiding the wild qi into order, purifying his dantian as it moved. A sharp pain shot through him, but it was fleeting, replaced by an overwhelming sense of clarity.

  Then—

  Boom!

  A pulse of energy erupted from within him, a violent explosion of force that sent shockwaves rippling through his body. His entire being convulsed, veins bulging as the surging power tore through every fiber of his existence. It was not a clean transition—it was brutal, agonizing, as though molten fire had been poured into his bones, searing away his former limitations. His muscles twisted, contracting and expanding erratically as if being reforged under the hammer of a merciless blacksmith.

  A sharp, piercing pain lanced through his core, spreading outward in jagged waves. His dantian felt like it was being ripped apart, shredded into unrecognizable fragments before being forcefully reassembled. He clenched his jaw so hard that he thought his teeth might crack, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. His mind reeled under the onslaught, flashes of white-hot agony threatening to consume him whole.

  And yet, through the torment, there was exhilaration—undeniable, raw, intoxicating. He could feel the difference. Every shattered barrier within him was being reconstructed into something stronger, something greater. His body was reforging itself anew, evolving past its former weaknesses. He was crossing the threshold, stepping beyond what he had once been, into something far more formidable. But the price for such power was undeniable, and he paid for it in suffering.

  Then, at last, the pain began to ebb, leaving behind a terrifying, electrifying stillness. He was different now. He could feel it. And nothing would ever be the same again.

  The little ball, however, was not done. It continued to draw in energy from the surrounding void, its glow intensifying to a near-blinding radiance. It pulsed rhythmically, each beat sending out ripples of pure power that distorted the space around it. Slowly, deliberately, it began to spin, its movements gaining speed with each passing moment. Then, something astonishing happened.

  Fragments of energy peeled away from the main entity, yet instead of dispersing into nothingness, they coalesced into smaller orbs—each one a new born sphere of light. One by one, they emerged, forming a halo around the little ball, their paths perfectly synchronized as though bound by an unseen force. The air trembled with their motion, an unspoken harmony reverberating through the mind realm.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Li Yun's breath caught in his throat as the scene unfolded before him. It was a cosmic birth, a miniature replication of the grand celestial bodies that dotted the universe. The little ball, now pulsing at the center, resembled a star—a nascent core of boundless energy drawing its children into perfect orbit. The smaller orbs moved with unwavering precision, their motion forming an intricate, mesmerizing dance. A system had been born, not of planets and suns, but of raw, cultivated energy.

  Awe flooded through Li Yun as he stretched his senses toward them. They were not mere illusions; they were real, each one a conduit of power feeding directly into his dantian. And with every completed revolution, a faint yet tangible stream of qi was siphoned into him, nourishing his cultivation like the gentle flow of an eternal river.

  He swallowed hard. "It looks like... the beginning of a solar system."

  Li Yun's eyes widened. "It looks like... a solar system," he murmured, stepping forward in awe. "Or the beginning of one."

  His curiosity got the better of him. Extending his senses, he reached toward the tiny orbiting spheres, trying to grasp their nature. As he focused, a deeper truth unfolded before him—each smaller orb acted as a conduit, drawing in ambient qi before releasing it in a precise stream toward his dantian. The moment they completed a full orbit around the Stellar Core, an almost imperceptible pulse rippled through the system, transferring refined energy into his body. It was as if an invisible cycle had been set in motion, an endless, self-sustaining mechanism of qi absorption that functioned independently of his will.

  He felt the energy accumulate within him, slow but steady, like the soft, ceaseless flow of a river carving its path through stone. The realization sent a shiver through him. This wasn’t just a minor boon—it was a revolutionary shift in cultivation. He had unknowingly created a system that gathered qi for him, a celestial cycle that would continue long after he stopped actively cultivating. The sheer potential of it sent his mind racing.

  His breathing quickened as the possibilities unfurled before him like a boundless sky. If he could nurture this, refine it, expand its influence—what heights could he reach? What if more orbs formed? What if they stabilized into larger celestial bodies, each one drawing in qi from an even greater range? The very thought sent a thrill through him. Could he push this system further? If planets could form, could they sustain something beyond just energy circulation? What if he could create something akin to the world he stood on now—a self-contained realm, a living cultivation ground where qi thrived, evolving on its own? What if he could foster life within it, cultivate beings that would generate even more qi, feeding back into his own dantian like an infinite cycle of growth? His heart pounded, a mix of exhilaration and terror rippling through his chest. Was he glimpsing the first step to something truly divine?

  This wasn’t just automatic qi gathering.

  This was the birth of something far greater—something beyond mere cultivation, beyond mortal comprehension. Li Yun’s breath hitched as the magnitude of his achievement truly sank in. This wasn’t just a new method of gathering qi, nor was it merely an advanced cultivation technique. No, what had manifested within his mind realm was the foundation of a self-sustaining, evolving system of celestial energy—a cosmic cycle that imitated the very mechanisms of creation itself.

  For a long moment, he stood frozen, his thoughts racing with both exhilaration and fear. Was this what his bloodline had been leading him toward all along? A power so immense, so utterly ground-breaking, that it could reshape the very way cultivation functioned? His heart pounded in his chest as realization after realization crashed into him like tidal waves. If word of this ever got out... if someone discovered that he had formed his own celestial system within his dantian, harnessing qi like the heavens themselves...

  He swallowed hard. This was no mere breakthrough—this was a revelation. A blessing wrapped in the skin of a curse, for power of this magnitude was bound to attract the attention of forces far beyond his ability to resist. To create a world, to shape and nurture it, to cultivate life itself—was he not treading the path of gods?

  His fingers clenched into fists, a cold sweat breaking out along his back. The weight of what he had achieved was staggering. If he pushed forward, if he continued to refine this system... what would he become? And more terrifyingly—would he even have a choice?

  This was the birth of something far greater—something that could redefine cultivation itself. But with such immense potential came an equally terrifying truth: it might also be the birth of his greatest peril. If the wrong eyes caught wind of what he had done, he would not be seen as a genius, but as a threat—an anomaly that needed to be erased.

  A slow grin spread across his lips, tinged with both exhilaration and unease. "This... this changes everything," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking it too loudly might summon unseen forces into motion.

  He thought for a moment, then looked at the little ball, watching the smaller orbs swirl around it in their celestial dance. "You deserve a name, don’t you? You’ve been with me from the start, guiding me, protecting me, growing alongside me." His voice softened, the weight of their shared journey settling in his chest. "How about... Stellar Core? You're the heart of this system, the anchor that holds everything together."

  As soon as he spoke the name, the little ball pulsed, a deep resonance echoing through the mind realm. The smaller orbs vibrated in unison, their movements becoming more synchronized, as if acknowledging their newfound identity. Li Yun felt a strange warmth in his chest, an unspoken connection solidifying between him and the entity before him.

  "Yeah," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "That fits."

  The newly named Stellar Core vibrated in apparent approval, the smaller spheres pulsing in response, as if celebrating their new identity.

  Satisfied, Li Yun let himself drift back into reality.

  —

  The moment his consciousness returned to his body, he stiffened. The air felt different. His limbs were lighter, his breathing easier. But something else was off.

  Glancing outside, he noticed the position of the sun. It was lower than it should have been—no, not lower. Time had passed.

  A lot of time.

  He pulled up the system interface.

  Time Elapsed: 10 Days.

  Li Yun nearly choked on air. "Ten days?! I was in there for ten whole days?!"

  His pulse spiked, a rush of alarm tightening his chest. Had anything happened while he was gone? The thought sent a prickle of unease down his spine. But as his fingers curled against the wooden floor, he realized something odd—his body didn’t feel weak. He should have been sluggish, his muscles atrophied from neglect, his stomach hollow with starvation. Yet, he felt... whole. Strong, even. The lingering effects of his breakthrough and the Stellar Core’s influence had sustained him. He wasn’t immortal, but his body had undeniably changed.

  He exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. "Well... that’s something."

  Despite everything, he didn’t leave his cabin that day. He needed time—to process, to recalibrate, to understand the transformation within him. The weight of the past ten days still clung to him, an unseen pressure pressing against his mind. When he finally stepped outside, the crisp mountain air filled his lungs, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and pine. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting long golden streaks through the gaps in the canopy. The world outside was quiet, untouched, as if waiting for him to return to it.

  Each step toward the waterfall was deliberate, his bare feet pressing into the cool grass, the sensation grounding him in the present. The distant roar of rushing water grew louder, a steady rhythm that seemed to echo the pulsing energy within him. He moved through the dense foliage, brushing aside low-hanging branches, his senses sharpening with each passing moment. The air grew cooler as he neared, the fine mist from the waterfall clinging to his skin before he had even reached the clearing.

  When he finally stood before it, the sight stole his breath. The cascade of water crashed down from a towering cliff, its force carving into the rock below, sending up a shimmering veil of mist. The pool at its base was a deep, cerulean blue, its surface rippling with every droplet that fell from above. Without hesitation, Li Yun stepped forward, shedding his outer robe and stepping into the frigid water. The moment it surged around him, a shudder wracked his body—not from the cold, but from the sheer relief of being anchored in something tangible.

  He tilted his head back, letting the water pour over him, washing away the remnants of exhaustion and uncertainty. The sensation was both cleansing and invigorating, the icy embrace shocking his nerves awake. He lingered there, standing beneath the relentless downpour, allowing himself to simply exist. The roar of the falls drowned out everything—the thoughts spiraling in his mind, the weight of his revelations, the lingering traces of fear and exhilaration tangled within him. For now, in this moment, he was just Li Yun, a man beneath the sky, standing in the cold embrace of nature’s unyielding force.

  When he returned, he collapsed onto his bed, letting exhaustion claim him once more.

  And outside, the world continued to turn.

  And so did the one inside. Faster than the one outside.