Soft footsteps approached from beyond the screen.
Lin Xuan sensed them before he fully registered the sound—not through strength, but through habit.
In his previous life, awareness had been survival. Even while injured, even while half-conscious, his mind had learned to catalog disturbances instinctively. Rhythm, weight, intent—those things didn't disappear just because his body had changed.
The steps halted just outside the door.
There was no knock.
Only a pause.
Then a voice—soft, measured, familiar in a way that tugged faintly at the edge of his thoughts.
"Young Master… are you awake?"
Lin Xuan opened his eyes.
The ceiling above him was still unfamiliar, but the voice wasn't.
"Come in," he said.
The door opened quietly.
A young woman stepped inside, her movements restrained and practiced. She wore the simple robes of a personal attendant—no embroidery, no clan insignia beyond the bare minimum. Her hair was tied back neatly, without ornament. She did not rush forward, nor did she linger near the threshold.
Her eyes flicked toward him—just long enough to confirm he was conscious.
Then she lowered her head slightly.
"Young Master Lin."
No panic.
No exaggerated relief.
Just acknowledgment.
Lin Xuan studied her.
Her name surfaced smoothly from the memories settling within him.
Qing'er.
She had been assigned to him years ago, back when he had still been considered a promising seedling of the Lin Clan. Back when expectations existed, and his courtyard had not yet been quietly relegated to the fringes of the estate.
Many attendants would have requested reassignment.
Some had.
She hadn't.
"I heard you collapsed earlier," Qing'er said evenly. "The physician examined you and said it was exhaustion. Are you feeling unwell now?"
Lin Xuan considered his response.
The truth—that he was inhabiting a broken body with damaged meridians and the soul of a man who had died violently in another world—was not something he planned to share.
"I'm fine," he said instead. "Just tired."
Qing'er nodded once, accepting the answer without hesitation or follow-up.
"I'll inform the main residence that you've awakened," she said. "Do you require anything?"
There it was.
Concern expressed through duty, not emotion.
Lin Xuan found that… reassuring.
"No," he replied. "Not yet."
She paused.
The hesitation was subtle—barely a heartbeat—but it did not escape his notice.
"Dinner will be served at the second bell," Qing'er added. "Shall I prepare the courtyard?"
Lin Xuan met her gaze.
"Tell them not to disturb me until then," he said. "I need time to rest."
Her eyes flickered briefly, as if weighing something.
Then she inclined her head.
"Yes, Young Master."
She turned to leave.
Just before stepping out, she stopped.
"If you feel unwell before then," she said quietly, still facing away, "I'll be nearby."
Then she left, closing the door gently behind her.
Lin Xuan exhaled.
No vows. No dramatic promises.
But that brief pause—spoken without expectation of acknowledgment—told him enough.
"She stayed," he thought.
Even after the talent verdict.
Even after resources dried up.
Even after this body's temper grew sharp and defensive.
That kind of loyalty was rare.
And worth remembering.
Once he was alone again, Lin Xuan let the memories settle fully.
This time, he did not resist them.
He observed.
Cataloged.
Assessed.
The previous Lin Xuan had not been incompetent.
He had simply been worn down—slowly, methodically.
Years of quiet dismissal had reshaped him into someone withdrawn and irritable. He avoided clan gatherings, not because he despised them, but because each one was a reminder of what he lacked. He snapped at servants out of frustration, not cruelty. He trained sporadically, without guidance, driven more by desperation than discipline.
And when progress failed to appear—
He stopped trying.
Lin Xuan clenched his fist.
"Neglect kills faster than hatred," he murmured.
The body had been abandoned long before it collapsed.
He shifted his attention inward and summoned the system panel again.
This time, it responded instantly.
[SYSTEM PANEL – HOST STATUS]
Name: Lin Xuan
Age: 19
Realm: Qi Refining Realm
Stage: Novice
Progress: 3%
Physical Condition:• Body Recovery: 41%• Meridians: Congenitally Damaged (Severe)• Bones: Inferior Grade• Musculature: Underdeveloped• Vitality: Low
Soul Strength: Above Average
Mental Fortitude: High
Combat Experience: Extreme (10% Unlocked – Passive)
Lin Xuan's gaze lingered on one line.
Body Recovery: 41%
"That explains it," he thought.
The collapse earlier hadn't been random. The body had already been operating below its limit for years. Fatigue, Qi stagnation, malnutrition—everything had compounded.
The system hadn't healed him.
It had merely stabilized him.
He scrolled further.
[SYSTEM DIAGNOSTIC NOTE]
Current recovery rate is natural and slow.
External intervention recommended.
Lin Xuan nodded faintly.
"Which brings me to this."
He opened the inventory tab.
[INVENTORY]
• Low-Grade Body Recovery Pill ×1
• System Coin ×20
The pill hovered in a small projection, rotating slowly.
Even without consuming it, Lin Xuan felt a faint resonance—subtle, controlled.
He didn't touch it.
Instead, he summoned the item's details.
[ITEM DETAILS]
Name: Flawless Body Recovery Pill
Classification: Stage 1 Pill
Recommended Realm: Qi Refining Realm
Effect:• Accelerates bodily recovery• Repairs minor tissue and vitality damage• Stabilizes internal imbalance
Warning:Pills possess stages corresponding to cultivation realms.Consuming pills beyond recommended stage may cause internal damage or rejection.
Lin Xuan's eyes sharpened.
"So that's how this world works," he murmured.
Memories surfaced in response—fragmented knowledge from the previous Lin Xuan.
Pills were not simply stronger or weaker.
They were tiered by realm compatibility.
Stage 1 pills were most efficient for Qi Refining cultivators.
Stage 2 pills were refined for Foundation Establishment.
Stage 3 pills…
With each pill having 4 realms as Low Grade, Medium Grade High Grade and Flawless grade; denoting its efficiency... Though Flawless Grade is rare and something only very high tier alchemist can make with a low to medium probability.
"Too strong," Lin Xuan concluded.
For a Qi Refining cultivator, consuming a Stage 3 pill was not nourishment—it was poison. Overwhelming medicinal force would tear through fragile meridians like floodwater through cracked channels.
Depending on the pill's nature, the result could range from crippling to death.
"No wonder alchemists are respected," he thought.
This was not a world where power could simply be swallowed.
Everything had a cost.
He closed the inventory.
Not yet.
There was time before dinner.
Time to understand everything he had access to.
He returned to the system interface, navigating slowly, deliberately.
[QUEST INTERFACE]
Daily Quest:• Perform Light Physical Activity (30 minutes)→ Reward: 5 System Coins
Long-Term Quest:• Repair Damaged Meridians (Partial)→ Reward: ???→ Progress: 0%
Survival Quest (Hidden):• Remain Alive for 7 Days→ Reward: ???
The last quest caught his attention again.
Lin Xuan leaned back slightly.
"Hidden survival quest," he muttered.
The system did not add such conditions without reason.
The memories of the Lin Clan filled in the gaps.
Inner disciples competing for resources.
Branch families vying for influence.
A weak direct descendant was not merely an embarrassment.
He was an opportunity.
He opened the Cultivation Assistance tab again.
[CULTIVATION ASSISTANCE – BASIC]
• Breathing Rhythm Guidance – Active• Efficiency Analysis – Active• Optimized Qi Circulation – Locked(Requirement: Meridians ≥ Partial Repair)
"Repair first," he reaffirmed.
Only then would cultivation become meaningful.
His gaze drifted toward the window.
Beyond it lay the Lin Clan estate—terraced stone courtyards descending the mountain slope. Training grounds carved into rock. Residences positioned according to status.
Further memories filled in the wider world.
Lin Clan City, at the mountain's base.
High walls.
Markets bustling with merchants, wandering cultivators, and hired guards.
Beyond the city—
Forests rich in low-grade spirit beasts and medicinal herbs.
To the east, trade routes leading toward other righteous sect territories.
To the west, deeper wilderness—and rumors of demonic sect activity.
And threading through all of it—
The Heavenly Balance Trading Association.
Neutral.
Untouchable.
Auctions held monthly.
Branches everywhere.
A place where even sect elders lowered their voices.
Lin Xuan's eyes narrowed slightly.
"A future lever," he thought.
But not now.
Not with this body.
Not without stability.
He looked once more at the system panel.
At the recovery percentage.
At the unopened pill.
At the ticking clock until dinner.
By the time Qing'er returned, he would have finished assessing his situation.
And once he acted—
He would not waste a single move.
Lin Xuan closed his eyes.
Breathing slowly.
Steadily.
The system waited.
And so did the world.