Fifty Billion Years as a Sun, Now I Cultivate Immortality

After burning as a cosmic furnace for fifty billion years, existence lost its meaning—until a black hole rebirth dropped me into a cultivation world as a helpless infant. No spiritual roots? I'll just grow my own. Complex spells? One glance and I've already optimized them. They say I'm too ruthless, but after eons of cosmic solitude, mortal sensibilities feel... quaint. All I wanted was a quiet life of cultivation, yet destiny has other plans. When you've witnessed galaxies die and been reborn with the memory of eternity, being 'ordinary' was never an option.