Yī

I wake up to the feeling of the sun hitting my face, and as is my custom as a habitual procrastinator I try to turn away to steal a few more minutes of sleep.

As I twist about in my blanket, still partially dozing, I can't help the feeling of something being amiss. I figure it can wait for later as right now the simple joy of curling in my bed is dulling any and all concerns that are sure to make themselves known once the time to roll out of bed came. Considering the amount of light coming in through the windows, I'd wager I have about fifteen minutes before the caretakers come to rouse me and the rest of the children for breakfast. Might as well make the best of what little time I have left curled up in my blanket.

Wait…

What?

Caretakers?

Rest of the children?

I'm an adult. I don't have caretakers. I live alone in my apartment

Except that wasn't true.

I'm a child. I have older people that take care of me. I share my bedroom with some other children, with a whole lot more in the rest of the building.

My name is Ma Hongjun? Right? Well I am used to being call Jun, so no duality there. At this point, I'm not sure if that should be disconcerting or not.

While I am confronting clear memories of living in what I now realize to be an orphanage for as long as I can remember myself, a significant part of my mind is repeatedly attempting to assert that none of that makes any sense at all. That this is some weird dream at best, or maybe a brain seizure. Heck, a child isn't even capable of handling this level of confusion without bawling their eyes out.

The damnedest part is that while my mind is trying to assure me that I am an adult by drawing memories to contradict my current perception, the resultant images are only increasing my confusion. I have some strong impressions of memories, experiences and who I was, but with little to none actual concrete, solid specifics. I can't even remember my name!

Starting to feel lightheaded, I realize that I've been hyperventilating for a few minutes now. I make myself stop examining my mental state and begin to take slow, forceful breaths to try to calm myself and avoid blacking out, the last thing I need right now is to draw attention to myself. What I need is to stop, take stock, and reach some equilibrium. To that end I swing my feet off the bed, get up and start wobbling towards what one set of memories -not now!- tells me should be a door to a plain bathroom with toilets and sinks equipped with mirrors and stools.

Pushing the door open and stepping on a stool (and wasn't that a foreign concept), I reach for the faucet to wash my face when a familiar stranger greets me in the mirror.

Chubby face. Red hair. Emerald eyes. About three years old.

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Transmigation.

I've been trying to come to terms with whatever it is that happened to me for most of the day as I've gone through the motions that seemed to be the norm to me, or who I was, or the body I inhabited, or however you want to put it. Sigh.

After the shock I received in the bathroom, I trudged back to my bed and waited for one of the minders to arrive to rouse the rest of my roommates and ensure we took care of our hygiene needs and got dressed to face the day. We plodded down to breakfast where the cuisine, along with the paper sliding doors, clued me in that I was in some Asian country, possibly China.

After eating, we were divided by age for morning classes. My class was composed of what you'd expect of education for three-year-olds, mostly reciting words, letters and correcting pronunciation with a lot of colorful pictures and a very slow pacing to account for the sparse attention span that age usually showed with plenty of games in between. Thankfully, it seemed that the prior rudimentary understanding the three-year-old part of my current self, combined with the mindset of my adult self, elevated my mastery of the language to the point it seemed I practically absorbed everything our teacher said and showed us.

But just like the common proverbial saying, which says "When Something Good Happens, Something Bad Always Follows." I was now realising that this may have a grain of truth as imagine my surprise, no, my astonishment when the teacher started talking about spirit ranks and spirit rings. 

It's official... I'm in Doulou Dalu verse...

And no wonder my name sounded familiar, I reincarnated as the fatty chicken...

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It took me a month.

A frustrating and stressful month filled with anxiety and doubt.

Before I had any success, I was constantly fretting about my capability to use Spirit Energy, either because of the method which brought into this world or the presumed existence of some part of the population that simply wasn't capable of using Spirit Energy and myself belonging to that group. If that were true I'd be completely helpless, bound to the whims of chance. I think I'm the only person impartial enough on the damn continent qualified to mess with canon.

It took me some time to get the hang of meditation, especially while lying down and trying not to fall asleep. I used every minute that could be excused for this endeavor, either under my tree or faking sleep. Eventually, I think I've gotten pretty handy at centering myself and reaching a sort of Zen-like state. I may have completely misinterpreted what meditation was supposed to be about, but fortunately, my method eventually served its purpose.

In the end, the primary key to cracking the issue was looking for something new. I came from a cold and dull world, constrained by regular old laws of physics, where Spirit Energy is not a thing. I had to look inside, to feel out for something new, a new sensation or sense that I've never experienced before. I think I'd have probably been much faster to succeed by beginning the search on the day of my awakening before I had any chance to get accustomed to my new reality.

When I first started making progress I could barely feel it, like something at the corner of my vision, always fleeting. The sensation would be lost entirely at the slightest bit of distraction or lack of focus. As time went on, I slowly started to get a better grasp of what it was I was looking for, constantly trying and failing. Every minuscule success spurred me onwards with greater determination.

And it all culminated in this one moment.

I can feel it!

Like a dam breaking in my mind because I suddenly noticed that the feeling is suffusing my entire body. It's not some great frothing mass, just a gentle creek flowing around my frame. Nevertheless, I find it to be very reassuring.

I break from my meditation to find myself lying in my bed, curfew having past about an hour ago. I'm exhilarated and barely hold myself from cheering loudly, not wanting to wake my roommates, and settle for a stifled giggle.

Unfortunately, this almost entirely solidifies my reincarnation hypothesis. Spirit Energy is ethereal, a whole new sense. I can no more explain it to a person who has never experienced it than I could explain the color red to someone blind from birth. It was, simply put, out of this world. My original world at least. I can't help but grimace and feel a pang of loss for a life I can't even remember.

Anyway, this was it, my first step towards achieving independence and conquering the terrors this world was ready to unleash. In this place where might makes right, I will be the sovereign of my own fate. Still, I can't stop now, to settle for knowing it's there. To stand a chance I must master my Spirit Energy. I need to sleep, breathe, eat and think Spirit Energy.

Gathering myself, I smoothly enter a meditative state again, and I'm genuinely thrilled by how infinitesimally easier it is to find my Spirit Energy on the second time. I realize meditation is probably not even necessary anymore, which makes plenty of sense considering the most I've seen cultivators do before performing spirit techniques is tensing up. I try to grab hold of my Spirit Energy then awkwardly move it around, my reward is a slight increase in the speed of it circulating through my body. Emboldened, I continue the exercise for a few minutes. While doing so, I try and concentrate my Spirit Energy to various points to different degrees of success, finding it easiest to pool it in my head where the Spirit Energy already felt strongest.

About twenty minutes in, I start feeling a bit light headed. A cursory inspection reveals that my Spirit Energy has thinned noticeably from my trial-run. Choosing to push through and continue with the exercise for five more minutes rewards me with dizziness and a slight ache in my head. Deciding not to overdo it any more than I already have, unfortunately I may have been too late as I immediately had a black out.