When Madara heard the old man's eerie voice, he abruptly stopped in his tracks and looked in the direction of the sound emanating from the ancient skeleton in front of him. He muttered to himself in disbelief, "I thought only novels had scenarios like this; I never expected to encounter it myself." As he scrutinized the skeleton, he noticed a sinister black mist emerging from the red crystal embedded in its chest. After a few seconds, Madara heard the old man's haunting voice again. By this point, he had realized that the unsettling voice was coming from the red crystal itself.

"Boy, do you want to become a powerful cultivator?"

When Madara heard this, he replied, "Who wouldn't want to?"

The old man responded, "Do you want me to teach you? But there’s one condition..."

Just as the old man was about to elaborate, Madara abruptly cut him off, revealing his familiarity with such situations.

"Isn't it odd that this is our very first conversation, yet you’re already offering to teach me?"

Inside the red crystal, the old man’s brow furrowed in surprise and irritation as he listened to the little boy's unexpected response.

"Do you think I came here looking for someone to teach me? I came here to train and gain battle experience." He raised his left hand and pointed to the sleeping Bloodfang bats suspended high above in the dark cave.

"And who are you to offer advice? First of all, I don’t even know you. There’s a saying: 'Don’t talk to strangers,'" he added sharply.

Hearing this, the old man chuckled with a touch of irritation. "Hahaha, kid, with your tone and the way you speak, it seems like you know everything. You have no idea how I ended up in this predicament."

"And you have quite the inflated opinion of yourself. Don’t you realize you look like a wild boy with no identity in that ragged outfit of yours?"

When Madara heard this, he replied while staring intently at the red crystal, which remained emotionless. "You’re right; I do have a high opinion of myself because it’s all I have. I couldn’t care less about how others perceive my appearance. You don’t know how I ended up in this situation either."

The old man's gaze fixed on Madara's dark, penetrating eyes as he spoke, intrigued by their apparent profound emptiness upon prolonged observation.

"And what if you were strong in your prime? Didn’t you also start out weak when you first embarked on your path as a cultivator?" Madara added.

The old man replied, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and skepticism, "Kid, I respect your boldness, but your attitude will change once you become a true cultivator and confront opponents far stronger than yourself."

"You’re right. I will indeed face those more powerful than me. That’s why some people harass and bully others—they are powerful or have influential connections. I don’t fully understand their motives, but when the weak become strong, you can’t blame them for seeking revenge. Just like now, you’re belittling me because I’m currently weak and trying to convince me to make you my master. Is that correct?"

When the old man heard this, he thoughtfully stroked his white beard and asked, "Then why did you choose to become a cultivator in the first place?"

Madara replied, his voice steady, "Because it’s the only way to survive and protect the people I care about in this world." His words carried a deep sense of loss as he recalled the tragic fate of his sister Xiao Yun and his fellow villagers, who had sought a peaceful existence only for that peace to be fleeting.

~~~Unbeknownst to the old man, while he was diligently honing his basic sword skills in the past, he had also pondered the possibility of abandoning the path of cultivation in favor of a tranquil life. However, he was deeply troubled by the thought of his future children choosing to become cultivators. If they inadvertently revealed their bloodline abilities (Sharingan) to others, it could attract dangerous attention, particularly from those who might seek to capture them, especially if they were female, and exploit them as breeding stock.

Madara understood that if he stopped his cultivation, he would be unable to safeguard his future children or loved ones due to his weakened state. The thought of such a dire and bleak future weighed heavily on him, causing him great distress.~~~

In explaining why he chose to follow the path of cultivation, Madara chose not to delve into further details.

Due to the way Madara spoke with a mature and composed demeanor, the old man felt as though he was engaging with an experienced adult rather than a young boy. This made it difficult for him to persuade Madara, leading him to mutter to himself with a hint of surprise, "He’s not an ordinary child, as I had anticipated."

When the old man inside the red crystal fell silent, Madara turned and began to walk back slowly, retracing his steps with deliberate calmness. As the old man watched the young boy gradually retreat from view, a sly smirk spread across his face. His eyes shifted to a deep, glowing red, and he murmured to himself with a touch of dark amusement, "You’ll return here and beg me to be your master for sure."

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After leaving the cave, Madara scoured the surrounding landscape for a flat, suitable area to build a house near the cave. After a few minutes of careful searching, he discovered an ideal spot. Without hesitation, he bent down at the chosen location, placing his right hand on the ground with purpose, and uttered, "Release." As he spoke, vibrant, fast-moving tree roots surged beneath the soil, weaving their way to the designated area where he intended to construct his house. Within moments, the structure materialized, rising up with an almost magical efficiency. Once inside, he immediately hung his calendar on one of the sturdy wooden walls, marking the beginning of his new setup.

Afterward, Madara settled into a cross-legged position, preparing for the healing technique he needed for his training. As he meditated with focused intent, he journeyed into his inner realm. Floating through this space, he observed a dramatic transformation: the once empty, black void had evolved into a vivid landscape. Silver spiritual roots and lightning-like tendrils now sprawled throughout the realm, their intricate patterns shimmering against the dark background. At the tips of these roots and strikes, vibrant hues of red, green, and yellow radiated with a captivating glow, infusing the realm with a mystical and otherworldly ambiance.

---Inner World" or "Inner Realm: This space is a personal, spiritual domain within the cultivator's body or mind, where they can store and retrieve important memories, techniques, and sometimes even treasures or artifacts. It is typically located within the dantian, which is a vital energy center in the body. ---

As Madara floated through his inner realm, he spotted an elegant building and drew closer to discover it was a grand library set amidst towering ancient trees. A path of softly glowing lanterns casting a warm, inviting light led to its majestic entrance. The library's architecture was a beautiful fusion of ancient Chinese and Japanese styles, featuring weathered stone and dark, rich wood intricately adorned with detailed carvings.

Upon entering, he was greeted by a breathtaking sight: towering bookshelves filled with ancient scrolls and ornate tomes that reached up to a magnificent vaulted ceiling, painted with a sprawling constellation of stars. The space was bathed in the gentle glow of paper lanterns, which illuminated the room’s plush carpets and traditional Tatami mats. To his right, a serene pond, its clear waters adorned with delicate lotus flowers and gracefully swimming koi fish, enhanced the tranquil atmosphere. The resemblance to the pond in the university garden on Earth brought a nostalgic smile to Madara’s face. The air was imbued with a mystical energy, creating an atmosphere perfect for deep study and meditation.

He was amazed by the sight before him. As he approached the bookshelves, he saw that the top shelf was labeled with the characters "Taijutsu (body techniques/arts)" in Chinese. The next shelf was marked "Genjutsu (Illusionary Techniques)," and the shelves were neatly organized with various other categories.

This impressive level of organization caught Madara by surprise. When he had first ventured into his inner realm to acquire basic techniques, the space had been far less organized, and there was no library-like structure to assist him. The transformation left him pondering, "Is this a result of my dedication to cultivation?"

Although he wasn’t entirely sure why these changes had occurred or if they were indeed a result of his efforts, he couldn’t help but smile, pleased that his training and cultivation had yielded results. He walked to the right, searching for the bookshelves dedicated to healing techniques. After taking a few steps, he arrived at the shelves filled with volumes on healing methods.

As he carefully examined each book, he soon found the technique he was seeking, which was perfect for beginners learning healing techniques. It was the Mystical Palm Technique (Shōsen Jutsu).

---Mystical Palm Technique (Shōsen Jutsu): Basic yet highly effective medical ninjutsu that allows the user to accelerate the body's natural healing process. By concentrating chakra (qi) to their hands, medical-nin can create a green healing aura that can mend wounds, heal injuries, and even perform complex surgeries.---

Once he obtained the book, he made his way to the tranquil pond he had seen earlier. Upon arriving, he settled down on the wooden floor, facing the serene water, and crossed his legs. The soft rustle of the leaves and the gentle ripple of the pond created a peaceful atmosphere as he carefully read the contents of the book. As he delved deeper into the text, silver qi began to manifest itself, forming intricate images that illustrated the technique's procedure. After several hours of focused reading and intense comprehension, he gracefully stood up from his spot, feeling a sense of accomplishment, and returned the book to its original place on the shelf.

After emerging from his inner realm, Madara retrieved his wooden sword from his storage ring. He firmly grasped the hilt with his right hand, channeling a shimmering silver sword qi along its length. With a swift, deliberate motion, he drew the blade across his left palm, infusing the cut with the potent qi. Once the wound was made, he quickly returned the wooden sword to his storage ring and directed his right hand towards the bleeding injury.

As he concentrated, a soft green glow emanated from his right hand, bathing the wound in its healing light. Madara began to count softly to himself, "One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi." Minutes passed, and the wound on his left palm gradually closed up, though a prominent scar remained. Observing the process, he noted, "It takes nearly 1800 seconds, or about 30 minutes, to heal such a wound. This technique will be essential for my training."

As Madara continued his intense training...

...

A twelve-year-old girl with a dirt-streaked face, tangled hair, and grimy, tattered clothes was diligently digging into the hard earth with a rusty pickaxe. She paid no attention to her frail frame, the heavy chains binding her hands and feet, or the sweat trickling down her brow, focusing solely on finding what she was searching for. Her efforts were rewarded when she uncovered a gleaming spiritual stone. With a burst of joy, she quickly tucked the precious stone under her right armpit, glancing around warily to ensure no one was watching.

Once she was certain she was alone, she hurried to the exchange point to trade the stone for a small loaf of bread, barely large enough for one person. The bread was unremarkable in appearance, its ingredients unknown, but the girl was indifferent to its quality. With the loaf in hand, she walked over to where her mother was also toiling in the dirt. Her mother’s appearance mirrored her own—emaciated, filthy, and shackled by chains.

Approaching her mother, she carefully split the loaf and handed half of it to her. Her mother, who had been working tirelessly, stopped and looked at her daughter with a gentle gaze. She took the bread, ate it slowly, and softly caressed her daughter’s dirty cheek. With a heavy heart, she murmured to herself, "You're all I have left. I don't know how I could bear it if you were gone." Li Mei said this while watching her daughter, Li Lu, eat the bread with a determined look in her eyes.