The morning sun bled softly through the wooden blinds, casting streaks of golden light across the stone floor of the academy dorm. Lucas slowly opened his eyes, his body still humming with residual Qi from last night's cultivation. His breathing was calm, his chest rising and falling slowly as he sat up on the edge of the bed. A quiet sigh escaped his lips.
He had spent the entire night refining the potent Yin energy he absorbed from Selene. It was potent—richer than he anticipated. It had surged through his meridians like a gentle storm, boosting his foundation significantly. But he had suppressed the breakthrough, locking it down and masking the change in his aura. Drawing too much attention to himself now would only complicate things.
He stood up quietly and walked to the window, pulling the curtain open just a little. Morning dew clung to the garden plants below, and in the distance, the soft murmurs of early cultivators filled the air. Some were already practicing forms, others running laps or meditating. The academy had come to life.
Behind him, the sound of snoring reached his ears.
He turned his head slightly, eyes landing on Garrett—curled into a ball with one leg hanging off the bed—and Cassian, mouth open, drooling on his pillow.
Lucas shook his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"So much Qi in this world, and these two idiots are wasting it by sleeping and dreaming of girls."
He walked past their beds quietly, heading to the small table by the far wall where he had stacked a few basic alchemy tools and some scrolls. As he passed Cassian's bed, the guy rolled over and muttered something about a girl named Melissa and peaches. Lucas scoffed under his breath.
"I swear... it's a miracle these guys have any cultivation progress at all."
He lit a small incense stick for focus, inhaling its earthy scent. As the smoke curled upward, his thoughts drifted to his past life. The sterile white lights of the city's skyline. The sharp hiss of the train. His sister's laughter as she sat beside him that day—just before everything changed.
"Is she alive?"
His fingers paused mid-motion over a scroll.
"Did her soul get tossed into some other timeline like mine? Or... is she gone?"
The thought punched a hole in his chest every time he let it linger too long. She was the only one he had in that life. His only family. His protector when things got rough. She was his reason for pushing forward even when everything seemed against them.
Now, he was in a world with endless Qi, ancient techniques, and the chance to build something he never had. But that gnawing emptiness still followed him—her absence like a wound that refused to heal.
"If you're out there, somewhere... I'll find you. No matter what it takes."
He clenched his fist slightly before relaxing it again.
He reminded himself that he had work to do. He was already ahead of most, but he had to keep moving. He couldn't get complacent. Power and influence didn't come from just talent—it came from ambition and control.
With the cultivation systems here being so primitive compared to the refined theories he had known in the future, he knew he had an edge. A huge one. He could recreate techniques, invent new systems of refinement, even influence alchemy and crafting arts. But only if he played the game right.
Too fast, and he'd be marked a threat. Too slow, and he'd lose momentum.
He looked back at his roommates and sighed again, not with irritation this time—but mild amusement.
"Sleep while you can, boys. The world doesn't wait forever."
Then, without another word, Lucas sat cross-legged on his bed once more and slipped back into meditation.
As Lucas settled into his meditation once more, his breathing deepened, and the world around him slowly dulled into a gentle blur. The Qi in the room swirled softly toward him, like moths drawn to a flame. He guided it with expert ease, circulating it through his meridians with precise, steady flow—soaking in every drop of energy the world had to offer. His mind was clear, his presence calm, yet beneath it all pulsed a burning ambition. He wasn't just cultivating for strength. He was building a future—one where he would stand above all.
Minutes passed. Then nearly half an hour.
He didn't open his eyes, but he felt it. The subtle shift in the atmosphere. A shuffle of cloth. A quiet movement behind him. One breath. Two breaths. Then he heard it—Garrett's exaggerated sigh as he plopped into a cross-legged position behind him, clearly mimicking Lucas but trying not to be obvious about it. A few moments later, Cassian followed, his footsteps lighter, quieter. He sat beside Garrett and adjusted his posture like someone who hadn't meditated in weeks but was trying to act serious.
Lucas could barely hide his amusement.
So they finally decided to stop being clowns and try cultivating…
He cracked an eye open, barely glancing at them over his shoulder. Both had their eyes closed, expressions unnaturally serious. It was painfully obvious they were imitating him.
He shook his head lightly and closed his eyes again. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. Let them follow. If they learned something from watching him, so be it. He wasn't going to spoon-feed anyone.
Time slipped by quietly until a gentle knock came at the door. Lucas sensed it before the knock even finished—her familiar presence brushing against the edges of his awareness.
The door opened softly, and there she was—Lira.
She stepped in gracefully, holding a covered tray in one hand and a small satchel in the other. Her long hair was tied back into a simple braid today, and her eyes sparkled with quiet warmth the moment she saw him.
"Good morning, Master," she greeted in that soft, respectful tone of hers.
Lucas stood up from his seated position, brushing off the hem of his robe as he walked toward her. His expression softened the moment he looked at her. Without a word, he reached out with his right hand and gently rubbed her hair. She leaned into his touch instinctively, her cheeks growing pink when he bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead.
"Good morning, love," he said in a low, affectionate voice.
The color in Lira's face deepened instantly, and her lips twitched into a shy, glowing smile. She lowered her eyes and clutched the tray a little tighter.
"I brought breakfast," she said, setting the tray down on a small table near the window. "And the few things we forgot to pack yesterday. They were still in the courtyard, so I made sure to grab them on my way here."
Lucas glanced at the tray—steamed dumplings, slices of golden fruit, warm tea, and a few sweet cakes. Lira never did anything halfway.
He turned back to her. "You're too good to me."
"I just want to take care of you…" she murmured, still smiling, though she kept her head slightly bowed.
Meanwhile, Garrett had cracked one eye open from his pretend meditation and nudged Cassian.
"Yo... that's the servant from yesterday" he whispered, voice low but not low enough.
Cassian nodded, eyes wide. "Damn, she's cute. He kissed her forehead, bro. That's not servant treatment…"
Lucas turned slightly, giving them both a slow, meaningful glance. They immediately straightened their backs and closed their eyes again—pretending to meditate once more.
He chuckled under his breath and returned his attention to Lira, who had started to pour him a cup of tea, in this moment, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Peace.