The Wind Rises from the End of the Green Duckweed

He strained his eyes wide, yet the view before him remained a blur. The characters on the paper were indistinct, each one resembling a tadpole unable to swim; only by holding the paper less than five centimeters from his face could he make out the content.

With a soft sigh, Feng Qingmo placed the paper back onto the table.

Could it be that nearsightedness carries over through transmigration?

In his previous life, as someone with severe myopia, glasses were an absolute necessity. Without them, he couldn't distinguish men from women beyond two meters, or people from animals beyond five; he was effectively no different from a blind man.

Though his vision now was slightly better than in his past life, it was still limited.

He had been on his way to replace his glasses due to a worsening prescription when he was struck by a car while saving a child who had darted into traffic against a red light.

After the world went black and his consciousness sank into an endless void, he awoke to find himself in a strange world.

Why call it strange?

This body was clearly not his own; it was younger, stronger, and possessed exceptionally acute hearing.

He could easily hear various sounds from afar, and as they entered his ears, they were distinct and layered.

The rustling of leaves on the indoor plants as a breeze drifted in through the open window; the sounds of cleaning coming from the living room downstairs; the laughter of children and the barking of pets on the lawn outside; the gurgling of the fountain on the rockery...

Feng Qingmo closed his eyes slightly, and through the feedback provided by the wind, a scene as vivid as if seen with his own eyes formed in his mind.

Suddenly, his brow furrowed. He reached up to wipe his nose and the corner of his mouth, feeling something sticky. A glance at his hand revealed a bright, crimson smear—it was covered in blood!

Could it be that the internal hemorrhaging from being hit by a car also followed me here? Before his inner question could be answered, his focus shifted to his head and face, drawing his attention inward—

BOOM!

His entire consciousness and spirit arrived in a miraculous place.

This mysterious space was boundless, surrounded by thin, swirling mist. In the center of this haze sat a single, deep cyan droplet.

No, "droplet" wasn't quite accurate; to Feng Qingmo, it felt like something between a solid and a liquid, much like jelly.

The deep cyan sphere rotated slowly like a star, emitting wisps of pale cyan mist that caused the fog in the space to constantly expand.

"This is..."

As a flicker of familiarity stirred in Feng Qingmo's heart—a sense that he had seen this scene somewhere before—the droplet in the center of the space suddenly emitted a suction force, drawing his consciousness into it while simultaneously flooding his mind with memories.

He knew not how much time had passed, but Feng Qingmo, who had been sitting with his eyes tightly shut, suddenly snapped them open. He took several deep, ragged breaths before he could barely calm himself.

"This is... Swallowed Star!"

"Was that my consciousness sea just now? And those mists are spiritual energy..." Feng Qingmo easily mobilized the spiritual energy within his consciousness sea, enveloping the table in front of him. The entire solid wood table rose silently into the air, hovered a meter off the ground, and then slowly settled back down.

"You were certainly unlucky..." After merging with the remnants of the original owner's memories, Feng Qingmo couldn't help but lament the poor fellow's misfortune.

The original owner was also named Feng Qingmo, but unlike his own life as an orphan on Earth, this boy had both parents. His father, Feng Jiansong, was a junior War General martial artist, and his mother, Zuo Huifen, was a senior Warrior-level martial artist.

Under his parents' guidance, and having just turned nineteen a few days ago, Feng Qingmo had finally reached the physical standards of a martial artist. Feng Jiansong had then taught him the martial artist's "Genetic Energy Cultivation Method: Five Hearts Towards Heaven."

After trying for several days, he had finally sensed cosmic energy today. Upon absorbing it for the first time, his physical fitness had surged, which in turn triggered the automatic awakening of the spiritual energy in his consciousness sea. But the tragedy was—

Caught completely unprepared, he had been unable to withstand the massive eruption of spiritual energy during the awakening, and his soul had shattered!

Though his vision was blurry, a sweep of his spiritual energy revealed his condition in perfect detail—he was indeed bleeding from his seven orifices.

He walked into the bathroom to clean himself up.

Looking at the blurred reflection in the mirror, Feng Qingmo whispered to himself, "Since I have inherited your body, I shall fulfill your dreams for you!"

As soon as this thought took hold, the deep cyan droplet in his consciousness sea jolted, and some lingering resentment seemed to vanish into thin air in an instant!

"Mo'er, your dad is almost home, get ready for dinner..."

A gentle yet resonant voice drifted up from downstairs—it was his mother, Zuo Huifen.

"Alright... Mom!"

Having been an orphan in his past life, Feng Qingmo had never enjoyed the warmth of a family. Now, having transmigrated and perhaps due to the fusion of the original owner's memories, he accepted these parents from the bottom of his heart.

The original owner had previously used his special hearing to identify obstacles and terrain, allowing him to walk almost like a normal person.

But now, having awakened his spiritual energy, he naturally projected it as he walked. Combined with the hearing-based spatial awareness already etched into his body's memory, he felt as though he had total mastery over the surrounding space, possessing an extraordinary sense of knowing everything like the back of his hand.

When he reached the first floor, Zuo Huifen had already set dinner on the table. At that moment, footsteps echoed at the villa's entrance.

"Your dad is home," Zuo Huifen said, her smile widening. She turned toward Feng Jiansong, who had just walked in. "Song-ge, you're back. Go wash your hands, dinner is ready..."

"Right." Feng Jiansong nodded with a smile.

Once he had washed his hands, the family of three sat around the dining table, chatting as they ate.

"Mo'er, how has your cultivation of the Five Hearts Towards Heaven been these past few days?" Feng Jiansong, who only had his left arm, picked up some food with his chopsticks and asked with a hint of anticipation, "Have you sensed the cosmic energy yet?"

Zuo Huifen also looked over with concern. Feng Qingmo had been practicing the Five Hearts Towards Heaven for several days but had yet to sense any cosmic energy.

Feng Qingmo smiled. "I was planning to tell you both after dinner. Dad, Mom, just a moment ago, I sensed the cosmic energy and completed my first session of cultivation..."

"That's wonderful!" Zuo Huifen cheered, exchanging a look of delight with Feng Jiansong, who was also beaming. "Today is truly a good day. Song-ge, we must celebrate... I'll go get the wine!"

"Haha, good!" Feng Jiansong set down his chopsticks and nodded repeatedly.

Soon, Zuo Huifen returned with a bottle of wine and three glasses. She filled them, and the fragrance of the liquor immediately filled the air.

"We're happy today, Mo'er, you have a glass too!" Zuo Huifen placed a glass by Feng Jiansong's left hand and set another in front of Feng Qingmo.

"Come, cheers!" Zuo Huifen was the first to raise her glass.

The three glasses clinked together above the dining table with a crisp 'ding'.

After downing the fine wine in one gulp, Zuo Huifen set her glass down and gazed at Feng Qingmo with a complex look in her eyes: "Mo'er, only by sensing cosmic energy and completing your first cultivation can you truly be called a martial artist, but..."

She glanced at her husband's empty right sleeve, a flash of heartache crossing her eyes: "Sometimes I wish you would never sense cosmic energy, so that you could always stay safely within the base city..."

Feng Jiansong reached out with his left hand and gently patted his wife's hand, his voice gentle: "Don't say silly things. While that would be safe, it is hardly the life Mo'er should be pursuing..."

"But Mo'er's eyesight..." Zuo Huifen started, then trailed off.

"Although Mo'er has a visual impairment, his hearing is more than enough to compensate for it..."

He comforted Zuo Huifen, then turned his head to look at Feng Qingmo with burning intensity: "Mo'er, Dad is very happy that you have sensed cosmic energy and become a true martial artist, but this is only the first step. There is still the martial artist combat assessment ahead..."

Feng Qingmo nodded.

"You are currently only a junior warrior; beyond that, there are intermediate warriors, senior warriors, warlords, war gods... and those who transcend war gods!"

Feng Jiansong paused for a moment before continuing: "Do you remember what I told you about the origin of your name?"

Feng Qingmo nodded: "The wind rises from the end of the duckweed!"

"That's right! The wind rises from the end of the duckweed, and waves form from the slightest ripple. Your mother and I hope that you will one day become a raging storm and a surging tide, traversing the heavens and earth without fear..."