Some hours later, an unknown force carried Qing Chen's soul through the void, dragging him toward the Chen household. The sensation was suffocating—like being submerged in a whirlpool of spiritual energy, his consciousness spiraling down until he was abruptly flung into the cold, lifeless body of Chen Ying.
A violent tremor coursed through his new form as he gasped silently, his soul fusing with flesh that had already begun to wither from death's embrace. A deep, numbing cold spread through his limbs. His heart remained still. His meridians, fragile and damaged, barely clung to what little essence remained in the vessel.
Meanwhile, outside the chamber, the Chen household was steeped in mourning. Incense burned in slow, delicate swirls, filling the halls with a somber fragrance. The once-lively estate was now draped in white mourning cloths, and hushed whispers of grief spread like the wind.
Inside the hall where Chen Ying's body lay, a heavy silence pressed down. His corpse had been examined and now rested on an altar, draped in a pristine white cloth—untouched, as if in slumber.
Yan Mei sat on the floor nearby, her posture rigid, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Her bridal hanfu, now crumpled and stained, remained unchanged from the ill-fated ceremony. Refusing to heed her family's insistence that she leave, she had chosen to remain and mourn.
She stared at the shrouded body before her, her chest tightening with unspoken sorrow. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached out—but hesitated. The man she was meant to wed, the man whom the world scorned for his inability to cultivate, was now nothing more than a lifeless husk.
Yet, something in the air shifted. A ripple in the spiritual energy.
A flicker.
Unseen to all, beneath the white cloth, a faint warmth stirred in Chen Ying's body. Qing Chen's soul had arrived.
Qing Chen found himself standing in an unfamiliar space, his sharp eyes scanning the eerie landscape. A dense fog curled around his feet, and the air was thick with a sinister aura. The world around him felt both infinite and suffocating.
"What's this place?" he murmured, his voice echoing strangely. His gaze shifted to the distance, where twisted black vines slithered toward him like living serpents. His body reacted instinctively—he flipped backward, barely avoiding their grasp. Landing gracefully, he steadied himself, golden spiritual energy flickering around his fingertips.
He observed the environment carefully. The once-pristine river of the Sea of Consciousness had turned black, thick with vengeful energy that radiated decay and malice. The sky above was fractured, resembling shattered glass, and a heavy pressure bore down on him.
"Sea of Consciousness...?" Qing Chen muttered, realization dawning on him. "The spiritual energy here is fading—the owner of this body is dying."
A fading human apparition caught his attention. The translucent figure flickered weakly, its form barely holding together. Qing Chen's brows furrowed as he took a step closer. He saw the black veins crawling up the person's neck, their once-lustrous hair now dulled. Even in such a wretched state, this person possessed a fragile beauty.
"Poison...!" His sharp eyes focused on the black vines piercing the figure's chest at the heart's location. His stomach twisted slightly—this was no ordinary poisoning. The corruption had reached the soul itself.
Chen Ying's spirit struggled, his form trembling as dark blood trickled from his lips. He extended a trembling hand toward Qing Chen, his once-bright eyes clouded with sorrow. The pressure of Qing Chen's spiritual energy was overwhelming for his weakened soul, but he endured it.
"This person... is a high-level cultivator," Chen Ying thought, his vision blurring. "He could avenge me... He could take care of Yan Mei..."
His thoughts were heavy, filled with an unbearable sadness. Tears welled in his eyes as he made his decision. The bitter truth was clear—he had never belonged in this world, and his body, cursed with the Jade Yin Lotus Constitution, was never meant to survive.
"Master... Avenge me... Take care of Yan Mei... I give this body to you..." Chen Ying whispered, his voice barely audible, laced with finality. His fingers moved in a practiced motion, chanting a spell of Soul Transmission—one of the few techniques he had learned despite being unable to cultivate.
Qing Chen's eyes widened in alarm. "Wait! Who's Yan Mei? What's your name?!"
Before he could finish, Chen Ying's soul shattered like fragile glass, dispersing into the corrupted Sea of Consciousness.
Qing Chen clenched his jaw. "Damn it!" He slashed his hand through the air, slicing through an approaching black vine with a burst of golden energy. He exhaled sharply, his mind racing. "There's a mix of resentment and poison energy here… Just who was this person?"
Realizing that the body would not last much longer, Qing Chen sat down in a meditative position. He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing as he activated the Soul Resonance Refinement Technique. The moment he began, an excruciating pain pierced through his core. His spiritual soul was being bombarded by a torrent of memories—Chen Ying's past life colliding with his own.
"Ugh…!" Qing Chen gritted his teeth as visions flashed before him. Childhood memories of loneliness. The cold rejection of his family. The weight of a fate he could never change. Pain, grief, and betrayal coalesced in his mind, weaving into his own consciousness like vines wrapping around his soul.
"Jade Yin Lotus Constitution… in the body of a man?" Qing Chen muttered, realization hitting him. "No wonder he was sick… No wonder he was engaged to Yan Mei. The Jade Yin Lotus was meant for a woman, yet he was forced to endure it. This body should have never survived this long…"
He took a deep breath, his golden energy flaring. "But there's nothing to fear. From now on, Chen Ying will be the first to cultivate a Celestial Yin-Yang Lotus Constitution!"
With a burst of power, the black vines recoiled and disintegrated. The sky within the Sea of Consciousness began to mend, its shattered fragments glowing with newfound vitality. The corrupted river shimmered, its obsidian hue gradually fading as pure energy flowed back into it.
Qing Chen raised his hand, summoning a shimmering golden pill. "This will temporarily suppress the poison… But I'll need specific herbs to refine the Nine Revolution Purification Pill. That'll cleanse the resentment and completely expel the poison." His fingers tightened around the pill. "Until then, I'll rely on soul purification pills to maintain this body's stability."
He swallowed the pill, allowing its energy to seep into his newly inherited form. The poison energy began to dissolve, piece by piece. His heart, once blackened, pulsed with new life, its beat growing stronger. His organs, which had started to decay, regained their vitality. The meridians, corroded and damaged beyond repair, slowly began to heal, golden light threading through them like veins of divine energy.
Qing Chen exhaled sharply, sweat beading on his forehead. The process was agonizingly slow, but progress was being made. He pressed his hand against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his restored heartbeat.
His eyes glowed with a steely resolve. "Now… I need to find out who poisoned this child… and make them pay."