The first thing Yi Lian felt upon waking was hunger—an unbearable emptiness gnawing at his stomach. His body, no longer accustomed to the comforts of a sect, demanded food. But there was one problem—he had no money.

Sighing, he sat up and stretched. He had spent so long contemplating grand ideals and the nature of existence that he had overlooked something as simple as sustenance. For the first time in this new life, he faced a problem that no cultivation technique or mystical power could solve.

Determined to find a solution, he stepped outside.

The morning sun bathed the village in a golden glow, its warmth settling over the land like a comforting embrace. The air carried the crisp scent of damp earth and freshly baked bread, mingling with the subtle aroma of burning wood from cooking fires. It was a scene untouched by the ambitions of cultivators, a world that thrived in its own quiet way.

As Yi Lian stepped out, a few villagers noticed him and immediately approached with kind smiles.

"Good morning, traveler! Did you sleep well?" an elderly man with a weathered face and kind eyes asked. His voice was warm, yet carried the weight of years spent working under the harsh sun.

Yi Lian nodded, but before he could respond, a group of children rushed forward, their eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Where did you come from?"

"Have you fought any monsters?"

"Tell us about your journey!"

Their voices overlapped in excitement, their energy boundless despite the early hour. Yi Lian hesitated. He wasn't used to this.

Enthusiasm. Warmth. Unfiltered joy.

It felt foreign. Even in his past life, people were always too busy with their own struggles to greet a stranger so openly. And when they did, it was usually out of self-interest. But these people—they had no reason to treat him this kindly. He had arrived only yesterday, yet they welcomed him as if he were one of their own.

For a moment, doubt crept into his mind—was there something they wanted from him? But as he looked at the eager faces of the children and the genuine hospitality in the villagers' eyes, he found no trace of deceit.

Still, if he remained silent any longer, they might mistake it for displeasure. Pushing aside his uncertainty, he decided to answer their questions.

At first, his words were careful, measured. But as he spoke, something unexpected happened—he started to enjoy their company.

"I've just begun my journey," he told them. "Before this, I lived with my master on a secluded mountain peak."

The children gasped in excitement. "A mountain peak?! What was it like?"

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Yi Lian described the breathtaking scenery—the endless sky, the floating clouds, the way the world seemed so distant from above. He spoke of how the wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of blooming lotuses. The children hung on every word, their imaginations painting vivid pictures.

Then, he told them about the mythical creatures from his past life's stories—Garuda, divine serpents, dragons, and phoenixes.

"The Garuda is a mighty bird, its wings large enough to block out the sun," Yi Lian said, his voice steady yet captivating. "And the dragons? They could summon storms with a single roar."

The children's eyes widened in awe, but nearby, a few older villagers stiffened, their faces paling.

"Such beasts exist?" one of them whispered in fear.

Realizing his words had unsettled them, Yi Lian quickly reassured them. "They no longer exist," he said. "They are only myths now."

The children groaned in disappointment, but before they could protest, an unmistakable growl rumbled from Yi Lian's stomach.

Silence.

Then—laughter.

The villagers chuckled, the children giggled, and Yi Lian felt his face heat up with embarrassment. He had been so engrossed in their conversation that he had completely forgotten why he had stepped outside in the first place.

One of the villagers, a middle-aged man with strong arms and a gentle smile, stepped forward with a grin. "Traveler, if you haven't eaten yet, come to my house. My wife just finished cooking, and we have more than enough food to share."

Yi Lian hesitated. In the cultivation world, nothing came without a price. Accepting favors meant owing someone something in return. But here… was it really that simple?

Seeing the genuine kindness in the man's eyes, Yi Lian nodded. "I would be grateful."

The man's home was modest, built from sturdy wood with a thatched roof. Inside, the scent of fresh rice and roasted meat filled the air. The man's wife, a kind-faced woman with soft features, greeted him warmly.

"Sit, sit," she said, gesturing toward a simple wooden table. "You're a guest, so eat as much as you like!"

Plates of steaming rice, fresh vegetables, and slow-cooked meat were set before him. The food was simple, but the warmth in their gestures made it feel richer than the finest meals he had ever eaten.

As Yi Lian ate, he listened to their stories—how the man worked in the fields, how his wife managed the household, how their children played without worry. Their lives were ordinary, yet full of meaning.

"You know," the man said, watching Yi Lian with a thoughtful expression, "you remind me of someone who passed through here years ago. A wandering scholar who left behind wisdom instead of debts. Are you a scholar too?"

Yi Lian paused, considering the question. He wasn't a scholar, nor a warrior, nor a common man. He was… searching.

"I'm just someone trying to understand the world," he finally said.

The man nodded as if he understood, even though Yi Lian himself wasn't sure if he did.

After the meal, Yi Lian thanked them and stepped outside, walking through the village with a newfound curiosity. He had seen the mortal realm from a distance, but never had he truly lived in it.

He observed how the villagers worked together—farmers tending to fields, blacksmiths forging tools, merchants bartering over fresh produce. Children ran through the streets, their laughter a stark contrast to the cold silence of the cultivation world.

These people had no cultivation, no mystical powers, yet they carried a joy, a liveliness that he had never seen before. What made them so full of life?

He watched as a young boy fell while chasing a chicken, only to laugh and get up again. A mother scolded her son for stealing fruit from a stall, but in the next moment, ruffled his hair with a smile. An old woman sat under a tree, humming a tune as she mended clothes.

They had no ambitions for power, no desire to dominate others. Yet, in their simplicity, they had something cultivators lacked—contentment.

For the first time, Yi Lian wondered… Had he spent his life chasing something that didn't matter?

He walked aimlessly, lost in thought, as the morning stretched into afternoon. For now, he was just a traveler, learning the world not through power, but through understanding.

And perhaps, that was the first step to something greater.