The morning light seeped through the cracks of the cave walls, painting golden lines across the rough stone. The faint sound of wind outside mingled with the rhythmic drip of water, forming a strange harmony—nature's own heartbeat.
Su Ming sat cross-legged in silence. Around him lay scattered items—a broken jade slip, a rusty sword, a few spirit stones, and a half-burnt notebook. His red eyes reflected the flickering flame before him.
For the last three days, he had done nothing but think.
Not cultivate.
Not sleep.
Just think.
The meridians and acupoints act as conduits for Qi flow... comparable to neural pathways. Qi circulation speed is dependent on mental focus... which is, in turn, governed by synaptic rhythm.
He scribbled notes on a piece of parchment with an ink-soaked reed, muttering to himself.
If I can synchronize Qi flow frequency with the oscillation rate of neural signals... then theoretically, I could achieve continuous Qi amplification without meditation fatigue.
He sighed. "Theoretically," he muttered, "but this world doesn't care about theory."
A soft breeze brushed past his cheek, carrying with it the faint floral scent of the mountain valley.
In the distant training grounds, faint voices echoed—shouts, laughter, and the clash of disciples practicing Qi techniques. The outer disciples of Cloud Sword Sect were already training.
Su Ming stared at the cave entrance. He hadn't stepped outside since waking in this new world. The original owner of this body had lived here in isolation for years—a low-ranked disciple who couldn't even pass the sect's basic evaluation test. His Qi sense was weak, his meridians narrow, and his spiritual root... almost non-existent.
In this world, he recalled from inherited memories, spiritual roots determine one's future. The better the root, the faster the cultivation. The lowest ranks—like mine—can spend their entire lives stuck in the Qi Gathering Realm.
He chuckled softly. "So the heavens threw me into the weakest cultivator possible."
He picked up a small spirit stone—a dull gray crystal with faint energy glowing inside. When he focused, wisps of Qi began to leak from it, curling like smoke into his skin. The sensation was mild—warm, almost comforting.
If someone uses this energy with mindfulness, it has potential.
His eyes sharpened.
But if I combine science and cultivation... I could create something with infinite potential.
He closed his eyes and sank into meditation. The spiritual energy entered his body slowly, drifting through his pores and flowing through his meridians. Normally, cultivators guided it through breathing and visualization—but Su Ming approached it differently.
He visualized his body as a biological circuit. The meridians became wires. The Qi became current. His neurons became signal transmitters.
Then he applied logic.
If he could control the rate of neural firing, he could theoretically regulate Qi flow efficiency. He focused on the sensation within his skull—the faint pulse of thought. Slowly, he synchronized it with his breathing.
A low hum filled his mind.
The Qi that had previously scattered through his body began to move in rhythm—pulse by pulse, wave by wave.
There it is... the resonance.
A faint light appeared at his fingertips—a small thread of silver, flickering like static electricity. It lasted only an instant before fading.
Su Ming opened his eyes. Sweat dripped down his temples, his breathing ragged. Yet his lips curled into a faint smile.
"Heh. First prototype... successful."
He jotted down notes quickly, muttering under his breath. "Neural-Qi resonance achieved. Output frequency approximately fifty hertz... but stability is trash. Can't be maintained for long."
The humor in his tone was faint but genuine. He enjoyed this—the process of discovery, turning abstract theory into reality.
For a moment, he almost forgot he was no longer on Earth.
"Oi, cave rat! Still alive in there?"
A loud, mocking voice echoed from outside.
Su Ming blinked and sighed. He recognized the voice from the original owner's memories—Duang Fei, another outer disciple. Mediocre talent, slightly better resources, and an ego that outweighed both.
Su Ming rose to his feet, dusted his robes slightly, and stepped outside the cave for the first time.
The mountain air greeted him first—crisp, fragrant, and cold. Outside his cave stood three young men in gray robes, arms crossed with arrogant smiles on their faces.
Duang Fei spat on the ground. "I thought you'd starved to death in there. Guess trash lives longer than I expected."
Su Ming studied them silently. His expression remained calm and unreadable.
"Need something?" he asked evenly.
"Yeah," Duang Fei sneered. "Elder Lin's asking all disciples to contribute ten low-grade spirit stones for the sect's upcoming evaluation. But I figured I'd save you the trouble and take them now."
Su Ming tilted his head slightly. "You mean, you're robbing me?"
Duang Fei grinned. "Robbing? No, no—it's called 'helping a useless disciple reduce his burden.'"
Su Ming sighed. His tone stayed calm—even amused. "You know, in my world, people like you had a name."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"Statistical anomalies," he said dryly. "Short lifespans."
Duang Fei blinked, confused for a moment—then his face twisted in anger. "You little—"
Before he could finish, Su Ming raised his hand. A faint crackle of silver light sparked at his fingertips—unstable, but visible. The bullies froze.
Su Ming's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Leave."
The brief display of Qi—though weak—carried precision and cold intent. The men stepped back instinctively. Duang Fei clicked his tongue, spat again, and turned away.
"Don't get cocky, cave rat. A flicker of light won't save you when the evaluation starts."
When they were gone, Su Ming exhaled and sat on a rock, rubbing his forehead.
That was reckless. I used unstable resonance. The neural strain is too high... I can't maintain it yet.
Still, he couldn't help but smirk. "But it worked."
Back inside the cave, he resumed his work. Days passed in intense experimentation. Every waking moment became a test. He experimented with breathing rates, mental visualizations, and neural feedback timing.
He discovered that his Qi efficiency increased drastically when he treated the Dantian—not as a "spiritual core," but as a bio-reactor storing spiritual energy in a continuous loop with the brain.
He called this theoretical model the Neural Core Conjecture.
If I can stabilize the resonance between the Dantian and brainstem, then perhaps I can form a "Neural Core"—a cognitive core like the Golden Core realm, but the core will form in the brain rather than the Dantian.
It sounded insane, even to Su Ming. But insanity was simply another word for discovery before it was proven.
One evening, while sketching diagrams on the stone floor, a soft knock echoed at the cave entrance.
"Senior Brother Su Ming? Are you... here?"
The voice was gentle and feminine.
Su Ming frowned at the unexpected visitor. Very few people ever came to see him.
When he turned, his gaze met a girl standing at the cave entrance—about his age, wearing the same gray outer-sect robe. Her long black hair was tied neatly with a silver ribbon. Her eyes were bright yet cautious, her face round and expressive. She stood about 1.7 meters tall, her figure catching his attention despite himself.
"Ah, you must be from the Resource Collection Pavilion," he said calmly. "Here to collect my contribution?"
She blinked. "N-no... I'm Mei Lin. Elder Lin sent me to check if you're still cultivating. You... missed the last two gatherings." Her words carried a hint of awkwardness.
Su Ming nodded absently, not looking up as he continued writing notes. "Understandable. Tell Elder Lin that I'm alive and busy creating godhood."
"Creating what?" she asked, confused.
He smiled faintly. "Never mind. What's your cultivation level, Miss Mei?"
"...uh... third stage of Qi Refinement."
"Hmm. Median neural frequency of roughly ninety hertz, then," he murmured to himself. "Do you feel exhausted when circulating Qi for more than ten minutes?"
"I—what?"
"Never mind," he said. "Just curious."
She watched him sketch strange patterns on the floor—spirals, circles, and dots connected by lines. "Are those formations?"
"No," he replied absently. "Schematics of human consciousness."
She blinked again, clearly unsure whether to laugh or leave. Yet something about his calm demeanor made her stay.
Finally, she smiled awkwardly. "You're... different."
"I've heard worse," he replied dryly.
Mei Lin was at a loss for words.
Before leaving, she hesitated. "You know, Elder Lin said you had potential. You just... lacked focus."
Su Ming chuckled softly. "Tell your Elder not to worry. I've found focus now—too much of it, probably."
When she left, the faint scent of mountain herbs lingered in the air. Su Ming stared at the doorway for a moment, then shook his head with a small smile.
Attractive and smart. But... research comes first.
Women would only slow his progress.
He returned to his notes.
Weeks passed like falling leaves.
He no longer counted days—only iterations. The cave became both his laboratory and sanctuary. Every night, the faint glow of Qi surrounded him like a veil.
He learned that by combining deep breathing with rhythmic thought processes and mental fluidity, he could accelerate Qi movement exponentially. His spiritual energy became purer, more responsive to his thoughts.
He named this method Cognitive Breathing—the first layer of the Cognitive Dao he had envisioned.
Unlike traditional techniques, it didn't rely on external energy manipulation but internal signal synchronization.
One night, while experimenting at peak resonance, something extraordinary happened.
The Qi within his Dantian condensed sharply. His consciousness expanded—not just inward, but outward. He could feel every vibration in the air, every heartbeat of the forest beyond the cave.
The connection between brain and Qi solidified.
Thought and energy became one.
A small sphere of silver light flickered within his mind's eye—not in the Dantian, but in the center of his brain, pulsing gently with each heartbeat.
The Neural Core... it's forming.
Su Ming didn't cheer or shout. He simply sat there, trembling slightly, overwhelmed by quiet excitement.
He understood now—the path he was walking wasn't just cultivation. It was evolution itself.
As Su Ming's strength grew, so did his understanding of the world beyond Cloud Sword Sect.
The Tian Ling Continent was divided into countless sects and empires. Cloud Sword Sect was one of the mid-tier factions—a vast land ruled by great cultivators in the Harmonization Realm and Nascent Soul Realm.
Here, cultivation was divided into realms:
Qi Refinement
Foundation Building
Golden Core
Nascent Soul
Harmonization
Void Ascension
Mahayana
Transcendence
Each realm represented a new level of existence—both physical and spiritual. Yet every cultivator pursued these steps blindly, following ancient texts and myths.
Su Ming saw it differently. To him, cultivation was a series of system upgrades—each stage a self-optimization toward a higher form of life.
They refine Qi. I refine cognition.
As the silver light within Su Ming's mind grew brighter, he opened his eyes. The cave walls were covered with his diagrams—spirals, waveforms, energy routes—the madness of genius carved into stone.
He reached for his notebook and wrote slowly, deliberately:
"Cognitive Cultivation — Layer One complete.
Efficiency improvement: 320%.
Emotional control: stable.
Neural fatigue: negligible."
He smiled faintly. "Not bad for a week's work."
Just then, his stomach growled. He glanced at the cold remains of dried herbs and sighed. "Note to self: remember food next time."
Outside the cave, the sunset bled across the horizon, painting the mountains gold and crimson. The wind carried faint echoes of disciples training and laughing below.
Su Ming leaned against the cave wall, gazing upward at the rising stars.
"A world of Qi and Dao... ruled by power alone," he murmured. "Let's see how it handles science."
His red eyes flickered with light.
"This time, I'll ascend—not by faith, but by understanding."