Cold.
That was the first thing Yu Jingming felt—no, that wasn't right. The cold was secondary. Before that came the confusion, a thick fog wrapping around his consciousness like wet silk.Where was he?He tried to open his eyes but his lids felt heavy, weighted down by exhaustion that sank into his very bones. Pain throbbed through his skull, each pulse making him want to retreat back into the darkness. But something nagged at him. Something wrong.His last memory surfaced slowly, like a body rising from deep water.The light. That damned light.He'd been cultivating in the Tiandang mountains, pushing toward a breakthrough that would cement his position as the strongest Martial Sovereign. The energy had been building perfectly, his inner world expanding, the laws of heaven and earth bending to his will. Then—nothing. Just that piercing, unnatural light that tore through his defenses like they were made of rice paper.Ye Fan had died.The realization should have been impossible. Dead men didn't think. Yet here he was, thinking, feeling, existing in some form that made no sense. Unless...He forced his eyes open.The ceiling above him was wrong. Plain wood beams, cracked and aged, with cobwebs in the corners. His residence had vaulted ceilings with intricate array formations carved into every surface. This looked like a servant's quarters at best.Ye Fan sat up—and immediately regretted it. The room spun violently, and he clutched his head, gasping. His hands looked wrong too. Smaller. Different. The fingers were longer, more delicate than his own. And the skin tone was off."What..."His voice cracked, hoarse and unfamiliar. Higher pitched than it should be. Younger.Panic clawed at his chest, but he forced it down with the iron discipline of someone who'd spent thirty years mastering his mind and body. Panic solved nothing. He needed information.Yu Jingming—no, Ye Fan—stumbled to his feet and crossed the small room. There was a cracked mirror on the wall, its surface tarnished and spotted. He stared at his reflection.A stranger looked back.Jet black hair fell past his shoulders in an unkempt mess. His eyes were red. Not bloodshot, but genuinely red like freshly spilled blood. The face was young, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with sharp features that might have been handsome if not for the sickly pallor and sunken cheeks.This wasn't his body.Ye Fan touched his face with trembling fingers, watching the reflection mirror his movements. The body responded to his commands, moved when he wanted it to move. But it wasn't him. His white hair was gone. His blue eyes had vanished. Even his height felt wrong—this body stood at least three inches shorter than he'd been.Memories that weren't his began surfacing, fragmentary and disjointed. A name: Yu Jingming, third prince of the Tianshui Kingdom. A mother's face, kind but weak. Her death when he was eight. The casual cruelty of his half-siblings. A crippled cultivation base that refused to advance beyond the early stages of Spiritual Sea.And poison. Someone had poisoned him. The crown prince, probably. Yu Jinghao had always viewed him as a threat despite his weakness."Reincarnation," Ye Fan whispered, and the word felt like accepting reality.He'd heard theories about it, of course. Some of the ancient texts in his collection had mentioned the possibility, though always in vague terms. Souls passing through the cycle of rebirth, emerging in new bodies. He'd dismissed it as superstition.Apparently he'd been wrong.Ye Fan—he couldn't think of himself as Yu Jingming yet—walked back to the bed and sat down heavily. His legs felt weak, unused to bearing even his slight weight. This body was in terrible condition. The meridians were damaged, possibly poisoned as the memories suggested. Without treatment, Yu Jingming would never progress beyond the most basic cultivation levels.But Ye Fan wasn't Yu Jingming. He was the youngest person to ever achieve Rank 1 Alchemist status. He'd refined pills that could regrow severed limbs and extend lifespan by decades. Fixing damaged meridians should be child's play.Should be.He closed his eyes and turned his focus inward, examining his new body's spiritual pathways with the skill of someone who'd spent decades perfecting the art. What he found made him grimace.The damage was extensive but not irreparable. Someone had fed Yu Jingming a slow-acting poison called Meridian Frost—common enough that any competent alchemist could brew it, but effective at permanently crippling a cultivator's potential. The poison crystallized in the meridians, blocking the flow of spiritual energy and preventing advancement.Most people would be stuck with it forever. Meridian Frost was specifically designed to be difficult to detect and nearly impossible to cure without access to rare herbs and a skilled Rank 7 or higher alchemist.Ye Fan almost smiled. Nearly impossible for others, maybe.He knew at least three different pill formulas that could flush out Meridian Frost. The most basic one only required herbs that grew commonly in palace gardens. The difficult part would be acquiring a cauldron and the privacy to refine the pill without alerting whoever had poisoned him in the first place.A knock at the door interrupted his planning."Third Prince? Are you awake?"A young woman's voice, hesitant and worried. Ye Fan sorted through Yu Jingming's fragmentary memories until he found a matching face. Xiao Yue. One of the few servants who'd remained loyal to him even after his fall from grace."Come in," he called, making his voice as weak as his body felt.The door opened slowly. A girl of perhaps fifteen entered, carrying a tray with a bowl of thin congee and a cup of water. Her face lit up when she saw him sitting upright."Third Prince! You're awake! I was so worried. You've been unconscious for three days."Three days. That explained the weakness."Water first," he said, and she hurried over to hand him the cup.He drank slowly, letting the liquid soothe his parched throat. His mind was already working through the implications. Three days unconscious meant Yu Jingming's "accident" must have been severe enough to nearly kill him. The crown prince had probably expected him to die quietly in this forgotten corner of the palace.Bad luck for Yu Jinghao. He'd just given Ye Fan the perfect excuse for any "miraculous" recovery that followed."Xiao Yue," he said, testing out the name. "I need you to do something for me."She nodded eagerly. "Anything, Your Highness.""There's an herb garden on the east side of the palace. The one no one tends anymore. I need you to gather some plants for me. Can you do that without anyone noticing?"Her face showed confusion but also determination. "Yes, but... why would you need herbs, Your Highness?"Ye Fan smiled, and it felt strange on Yu Jingming's face. Too sharp. Too knowing. Too arrogant for a crippled prince who'd spent years being mocked and ignored."Because I'm tired of being weak," he said simply. "And I know how to fix that."The girl's eyes widened. For a moment she just stared at him, as if seeing something new in his face. Then she bowed deeply."I'll get them right away, Your Highness. Just tell me what you need."As she left with his list of herbs, Ye Fan lay back down on the hard bed. His body screamed with exhaustion, but his mind was clearer than it had been since waking.He was Ye Fan, the Third on the Heaven and Earth rankings. He'd stood at the peak of the martial and alchemical world. Death wouldn't stop him from reclaiming that position.And anyone who'd wronged Yu Jingming? They were about to discover what happened when they made an enemy of a Martial Sovereign who had nothing left to lose and everything to prove.The thought made him smile in the darkness. It was good to be alive again, even if the circumstances were less than ideal.Time to show this world what a reincarnated Sovereign could do.