Cultivation is Creation [World-Hopping & Plant-Based Xianxia]

Chapter 144 - 139: Rouqi & Rouqin?

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was that I still didn't have eyes to open. Or a body. Or, well, anything physical at all. I was just... floating there, a spiritual consciousness untethered from flesh.

"Well," I thought to Azure, "this is... different."

Usually, when I jumped between worlds, I woke up already nestled in a convenient corpse that had somehow recovered from a deadly injury, ready to start my new life. The whole "ghost floating around looking for a body" thing was definitely new.

"Perhaps it's because we used the Genesis Seed's fruit rather than the system," Azure suggested. "The mechanics of transition might be fundamentally different."

I nodded, or at least performed the spiritual equivalent of nodding since, you know, no actual head. "Makes sense. We can't assume anything works the same way here." I paused, considering. "Though I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed about the energy in this place."

The world around us felt... thin somehow. The ambient qi – if you could even call it that – was nothing like the primal force I'd sensed from the golden fruit. It was weaker, diluted, almost like someone had taken normal qi and watered it down until it was barely recognizable.

"The primal energy we sensed likely came from the Genesis Seed itself," Azure theorized. "It was probably just the power that enabled the world-walking, not a representation of this world's energy."

"Yeah, that tracks." I sighed, watching as a wispy tendril of the local energy drifted past. "Still, what is this stuff? It feels almost like qi but... not quite?"

Before Azure could respond, I noticed my surroundings properly for the first time. I was floating above what appeared to be a city, though 'city' might have been a generous term. The buildings were a hodgepodge of architectural styles, ranging from what looked like ancient Chinese influences to something more... industrial? Most were in various states of disrepair, with crumbling walls and patched roofs that spoke of long-term decay rather than sudden destruction.

The streets below were dimly lit by what looked like crystal lanterns, though many were cracked or flickering. The few people still out at this hour hurried along with their heads down, their clothes a mix of traditional robes and more practical working wear.

Everything had a worn, tired quality to it – like a painting that had been left in the sun too long, its colors slowly fading away.

"We should gather information," Azure suggested. "But be mindful of your soul essence consumption. Without a physical vessel, you're burning through it simply by existing here."

Right. That was definitely something to worry about later. For now, I drifted down toward what looked like the local equivalent of a pub. The wooden sign above the door was too faded to read, but the sounds of conversation and the smell of cheap alcohol were universal constants, apparently.

I passed through the wall – which, let me tell you, is a very weird sensation even when you're expecting it – and found myself in a room that could have been pulled straight from a wuxia novel's "local tavern" template. Round tables, wooden stools, the distinct aroma of whatever passed for baiju in this world... The only thing missing was the mysterious old expert drinking alone in the corner.

Instead, the clientele seemed to be mostly middle-aged men, their clothes suggesting various working-class professions. A group of what looked like dock workers occupied one corner, while what I guessed were craftsmen of some sort clustered around another table. The conversations overlapped, creating a steady murmur of voices discussing everything from daily complaints to...

"...telling you, it's getting worse," one particularly vocal man was saying, punctuating his words by slamming his cup down. His dirty face and calloused hands marked him as someone who worked with his hands, though the slight shimmer of energy around him suggested he had at least some cultivation. "My grandfather used to say that in his day, you could feel the rouqi thick in the air, like soup. Now? It's like trying to breathe through a wet cloth."

His companions nodded glumly. One of them, a thin man with a thick beard, leaned forward. "Ever since the Celestial Sovereign vanished, everything's been going downhill. My oldest just started training, and you know what the instructor told me? Said there hasn't been a breakthrough to Tier 3 in centuries. Centuries!"

That caught my attention. Tier 3? And what was this about a Celestial Sovereign?

"It's not just that," another man chimed in, this one wearing what looked like a merchant's robes, though they'd seen better days. "The stories say that back a few millennia ago, Tier 5 wasn't even considered impressive. Now? We're lucky if someone reaches Tier 2 before their hair turns gray."

"The rouqi's running out," the first speaker declared with the certainty of the thoroughly drunk. "Running out like water in a cracked jar. Soon there won't be any Rouqin left at all, mark my words. We'll all be nothing but mortals, scrambling in the dust."

I floated there, processing what I'd heard. Rouqi instead of qi, Rouqin instead of cultivators, and a world that seemed to be slowly dying. The implications were... troubling.

"Azure," I thought, "what do you make of this?"

"It appears this world is experiencing some form of energy decay," he replied. "Though whether this will result in complete entropy or perhaps a transition to a different type of civilization – like your Earth – is unclear."

I was about to respond when Azure's tone shifted to one of urgency. "Master, your soul essence is depleting faster than anticipated, it is now at 70%. We need to find you a vessel soon."

A quick internal check confirmed he was right. The simple act of existing in this world as a spiritual entity was consuming my energy at an alarming rate. I needed a body, and I needed one fast. Preferably a fresh corpse – I'd had enough experience with those to be comfortable with the arrangement.

The thought of possessing a living person made my non-existent stomach turn. It was one thing to inhabit an empty vessel, to give new purpose to a body whose original owner had already moved on. But to forcibly enter someone else's body? That felt... wrong. Even in a cultivation world where morality often took a back seat to power, there were lines I preferred not to cross.

"There are pragmatic concerns as well," Azure pointed out. "A living host would likely resist the possession, making the process more difficult and dangerous for both parties."

He had a point.

The streets were mostly empty at this hour, but I