This problem disturbed me. Of course, I wanted to cultivate because I was attracted to the mystical powers of cultivators, but I also wanted to become someone special.

But what did that really mean? Did I have to forge my own path, relying on no-one else? No. As incredible as that sounded, it was unrealistic.

I may have read countless cultivation stories in my past life, but I could only guess how this world worked. I had to make use of other people's wisdom.

I would not allow the Soul Becoming World Technique to define me. I would use it to help me, but I would mould it to my own will. And I had already made a start.

I had to learn from everything available to me. But I couldn't read a book or ask a teacher. I had to learn from what little I was exposed to, and what I had already experienced.

It was easiest to start with my past life. I had been an athlete for some time, and I knew that I only improved by pushing myself to the limit.

However, I pushed myself without rest, damaging my body permanently. My knees were weak, my heels were shattered, and my back was a feather away from snapping.

As much as I hated it, I had to take a break from cultivation, at least until my body recovered.

What else could I do in the meantime? My past experiences were helpful, but I needed something more.

I couldn't speak or read. But I could observe and feel. What could I learn from my surroundings, and who could I learn from?

I didn't know much about my home. However, I did know that it had a specific nursery room, with some distance between it and my father's study. That would make it quite a large house, at least for my past life's standards.

Father also worked from his study, which could mean he had a somewhat secure job position. At the very least, my family was not poor. At best, we could be nobility.

Assuming that, it was reasonable to believe that I would have a good upbringing, and a get a decent shot at cultivation. Perhaps father was also a cultivator?

He sent a strange heat through his fingers before, so it was worth checking. Perhaps I could learn something from him. I had to wait until morning to check.

I lay there in my cot, waiting for the time to pass. It was boring. Excruciatingly so. Life without cultivation was dull, especially for an infant.

I couldn't stand the boredom anymore. There had to be something meaningful I could do. I decided to do some light meditation, just to observe the waves of qi flowing through my body.

As I meditated, I became aware of the passage of qi. How it flowed not only through my veins, but my muscle fibres, my nerves and my bones. With qi guiding me, my bodily awareness increased.

Time seemed to disappear as I followed the complex map of my body. Each pathway split into countless others and was connected to many more. It was easy to get lost, but the pulses of qi kept me grounded.

As I explored, the ripples were speeding up. Going down a pathway seemed to clear it, and qi would follow faster in my wake. The frequency of the pulses increased as well, the steady dripping sound winding to a patter.

I had been circling around my core, not going farther than a few centimetres away from my solar plexus. I finally felt that I had reached were I began, and the instant I touched my first path, I felt an eruption of pleasure.

It was nowhere near as intense as the first time I had experienced it and it came without any pain. But it was still all consuming, and I was brought back to reality, floating on a cloud of euphoria.

I was somewhat brought out of my trance by my door opening. Mother walked through, and seeing me in such a dazed state again, she picked me up and headed out of the nursery.

She was calmer this time and walked with a steady pace. I could see a bit better, white walls inter-spaced with wood pillars, built at right angles to enclose an area.

The light reflecting off the walls dappled like daylight through trees. This area seemed to have access to the outside world. The daylight made me realise that I must have been meditating the whole night.

Mother opened the door to father's study and laid me down on a small bed which wasn't there before. Once again father came over, placed his fingers on my chest and I felt heat pour into me.

This time the heat flowed straight to my core and bounced back. He went back to his desk and brought the glowing crystal over with gloved hands, placing it on my chest.

The glow intensified, and it seemed to be more like a shining light. It illuminated the expression of wonder and surprise on father's face.

I had suspected something the last time this happened, but now I knew for sure. The wave of pleasure signalled a breakthrough. If the last breakthrough was a major one, this was minor.

Mother fed me, stroking my head, while father talked to her in a commanding, somewhat excited tone, showing her the stone. Mother nodded along, somewhat disinterested.

After father finished talking, mother left me on the bed. Father was writing, but seemed distracted, occasionally pausing to cast a fleeting glance in my direction.

The stone seemed to be an indicator for cultivation level at least, but it might have other functions. It was strange that they tested me when I was born, why would you need to know the cultivation level of a baby?

I cast my mind back to my meditation session. There was much I could learn from simply observing my body; the breakthrough was evidence of that. But for now, I wanted to observe father.

He was definitely interested in cultivation, but how strong was he? How could I tell? I knew that I could sense my own qi escaping my body, perhaps I could sense his?

I focused on my hands and could immediately feel my qi. More was leaking now than the last time I checked. I shifted my focus to father. Nothing. I couldn't see or feel anything.

So, I couldn't just focus on him. I racked my brains and remembered Sirius. When we were in his soul space, I could actually see his qi. But how could I do that in this study?

Sirius had forced me into his soul space, and I had no idea how to force myself into father's. And that would only work if he had one.

"There's got to be a simpler way," I thought.

Maybe I couldn't feel his qi, but what if I could see it? From all that I've read in my past life, channelling qi into your eyes alters your sight, and it couldn't hurt to try.

I began to meditate, heading back to my soul, then racing up. Whether I went through veins or nerves, the pulses followed me. I was clearing the way, unblocking channels as I went.

It was fast if I didn't take any winding side-paths, and I found my way to my eyes. Nothing seemed to happen, so I tried to pull the qi up through the channel behind me.

It started slow, like a raindrop trickling down a window, but as more drops followed, a stream began to form. When the flow reached my eyes, it was powerful, and I felt a burning pain.

The pain ripped me from my meditation and when I opened my eyes, I was met with a shocking sight. Surrounding father was a raging golden inferno.