To master an element, we had to deepen our understanding of it—how it was created, how its structure worked, what its strengths were, and what its weaknesses were. That was the essence. The more complete the understanding, the more complete the control.
This was why elements were considered superior to Qi—not overall, but within their own fields. Even if someone compressed Qi to extreme degrees to generate heat, it would never surpass fire produced using real elemental sources like iron or wood. Qi was absolute, while elements were relative. Qi wasn't weaker; elements were simply more specialized and practical in their own domains.
I started with the easier ones—the elements I already knew from the periodic table. Not all of them were present here, but many were: titanium, magnesium, cobalt, and so on.
This gave me a massive advantage. I already knew the atomic structure of titanium—22 protons, 26 neutrons for Titanium-48. Looks like the studying I did on Earth was more useful than I expected.
I felt genuinely excited to learn these elements. They weren't only useful for arrays but also techniques. Using hard metal-type elements to strengthen earth-type techniques gave me far more flexibility compared to relying solely on Qi. That was how I created ice techniques before—I crafted an H₂O molecule using Qi, then removed heat until it solidified into ice.
From my speculation, Qi naturally sat at absolute zero. That meant I could theoretically cool water until it reached that temperature, creating the strongest possible ice. Theoretically.
I mastered all the periodic-table elements present in this level. But they were only the beginning. The real challenge was the elements I didn't recognize.
I knew around 123 elements—118 from the periodic table and a few more created by fusing them. But here, there were more than a thousand different elements. Had they really created so many new ones? It didn't make sense. Creating new elements got harder every step—you eventually reached a point where adding anything new required an entirely new idea or technique.
Earth had only discovered 118, and their research into nebulae to find new elements had barely started. Finding more would've taken years.
It was suspicious—but I couldn't do anything about it. I didn't know how easy or difficult it was to discover new elements in this world. I didn't know if people traded elemental formulas. I didn't know anything.
Thinking about it was pointless. Even if I guessed correctly, it would only be luck. Just luck.
I exhaled—long, slow, steady. My emotions were shifting strangely, and breathing helped calm me down.
I was changing. And that wasn't good. I wasn't the type to overthink things. Why would I? I never bent myself to fit circumstances, and I had always reminded myself to stay true to who I was.
Wait. Things weren't even that dire. Why was I getting worked up?
Heh… someone trying to manipulate me wouldn't get anything out of it.
Wait—why was I thinking about manipulation?
Someone manipulating me… wanting me to think someone was manipulating me?
Wait—wasn't that exactly what someone manipulating me would want?
No. Stop.
What was I even thinking—?
Someone—
"Stop."
My own voice snapped me out of it. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
I looked around.
Feng Xinyi… was gone.
This was messed up. The task was supposed to be mastering elements. How had things shifted so suddenly?
I realized something else—I had changed too much in just a few minutes. My emotions were spiraling uncontrollably.
This is an illusion, I thought.
My surroundings blurred. Colors twisted. When things settled, I stood in a field.
A farm.
I looked down at myself. My clothes were different—and not just my clothes. My entire body was different. It felt like I had been placed into someone else's body.
I calmed myself. Checked my state carefully.
My cultivation was gone. Completely.
This had to be a test. The real test. The element mastery was probably just the start.
"Hello, Wu Hao, why are you looking so pale?"
A man approached me with a concerned face.
Damn. I couldn't even hide my emotions properly in this body. I couldn't control them at all—this body reacted too strongly.
I forced my voice to sound normal. "I'm fine. Just not feeling well today."
He nodded understandingly. "I know you've been working hard for the child that's about to be born, but don't overexert yourself." He paused, then smiled warmly. "How will your kid react if he sees his father collapsing from overwork?"
My kid?
Was this really an illusion? It had to be. But it felt too real.
From the brief memories surfacing in my mind, I was in the body of someone named Wu Hao. His wife was about to give birth. The more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable I became.
I hated being here.
That emotion… wasn't mine.
Yes. This wasn't me. This emotion belonged to Wu Hao.
But why did he hate being here?
Was it because I stole his body?
No—that wasn't it. The hatred wasn't directed at me.
It came from the topic of the baby.
Because Wu Hao… hated the baby.
The realization hit a moment before the pain began.
Memories—his memories—crashed into my head. My skull throbbed violently. Veins bulged across my forehead. It was too much. I couldn't endure the wave of foreign thoughts, and everything went black.
…
I woke up lying in a small room, a woman staring down at me with a worried expression.
I knew her instantly. Wu Xinyi—Wu Hao's wife.
I had gained all of Wu Hao's memories. The overload had knocked me unconscious.
Now I understood why Wu Hao reacted so violently to the talk of the baby.
It wasn't hatred of the old man.
It wasn't anger toward his wife.
The truth was simple.
The baby wasn't his.
He didn't resent Wu Xinyi. He wasn't heartless. He didn't believe she betrayed him. In fact, nobody knew how she had become pregnant. It happened suddenly, inexplicably. The entire village hated her for it.
Except Wu Hao.
When he was young, he was gentle and soft-hearted, taken advantage of constantly. And every time, someone stood up for him—Wu Xinyi, the daughter of the village head.
She was the only one who ever helped him.