Consciousness returned in a strange way.
It wasn't a sudden awakening, but something more diffuse—like slowly emerging from the depths of a lake. Jin first felt the weight of his own body… then the silence… and finally a sharp, bitter scent that felt vaguely familiar.
Medicinal herbs.
He opened his eyes.
The light was dim, filtered through pale fabric curtains. For a brief second, he tried to sit up on reflex, but his body didn't respond. There was no immediate pain—only absolute resistance, as if every muscle had decided to ignore him entirely.
"...?"
Confusion hit him head-on.
He tried to move his fingers. Nothing. He tried to turn his neck. Impossible.
A chill ran down his spine.
With effort, he lowered his gaze… and saw it.
His torso, arms, and even part of his neck were covered in thin acupuncture needles, perfectly aligned and embedded at precise points. Some vibrated faintly; others were completely still, as if they were part of some strange ritual.
Jin's mind went blank.
Am I… alive?
He was lying on a kind of polished wooden bed, covered with clean cloth. Around him, the room was simple but orderly: shelves lined with ceramic jars, bundles of drying herbs, jade containers with dark residue settled at the bottom. The air was saturated with that dense medicinal smell that seeps into your lungs and refuses to let go.
He tried to gather his memories.
The platform.
The external elder.
Yan Mei.
The woman… Han Yiling.
And then… nothing.
A thought crossed his mind—slow, clumsy, but clear:
…I think I really overdid it this time.
A soft voice broke the silence.
"I see you're finally awake."
The sound came with the faint rustle of fabric. One of the curtains surrounding the bed was carefully drawn aside, letting in a little more light… and revealing the figure of the mature woman.
Han Yiling.
She approached with calm steps, her robe immaculate, carrying the serene air of someone accustomed to having life and death decided beneath her hands. When she saw Jin's face—his eyes wide open, fixed in place, his expression stiff from being unable to move a single muscle—she paused for a moment.
Then she elegantly covered her mouth.
A faint smile curved her lips.
"...What an interesting expression," she commented with amusement. "Relax. It's not permanent."
Jin wanted to protest. He wanted to say don't look at me like that, explain what's happening, why can't I move?
But all he could do was keep staring at her, wearing that helpless, awkward expression that only made things worse.
Han Yiling stepped closer to the bed.
"You're in one of my personal medical halls," she explained calmly. "A place very few 'external' disciples have the 'honor' of reaching."
She leaned slightly, examining the needles embedded in his body as if inspecting a carefully completed piece of work.
"You were treated personally by me," she added. "Considering the state you were in when you arrived… it was the least I could do."
Her gaze slid to Jin's injured arm, now covered with several additional needles.
"Your meridians were a complete mess," she continued casually. "Especially in that arm. You used your own Qi in a rather… creative way. And very recklessly."
Her smile didn't fade.
"So for now, stay still," she said gently, in a tone that allowed no argument. "If you try to move before it's time, all you'll accomplish is fainting again."
Jin listened in enforced silence, his mind spinning at full speed.
Personal medical hall…?
Treated by a Golden Core cultivator…?
His mind, however, was anything but calm.
This…
What kind of script is this?
One moment he was fighting on a platform like in some cheap cultivation novel. The next, a Golden Core elder abducted him midair. Then a dangerous woman with a gentle smile knocked him unconscious. And now he woke up immobilized, covered in needles, inside a personal medical hall.
Too many important characters.
Too many strange flags.
The pacing is completely messed up…
If this were a story, Jin wouldn't know whether he was in a growth arc, a sect conspiracy plot… or one where the protagonist was about to be used as a chess piece.
Before he could continue mentally complaining about the invisible author of his life, he heard hurried footsteps.
The curtain was pulled open abruptly.
"So you're finally awake!"
Yan Mei entered with a deep frown, arms crossed, her expression clearly irritated. Her gaze fell on Jin… and hardened.
"Do you have any idea how much you scared us?" she scolded immediately. "Passing out like that, without warning—"
She stepped closer to the bed, looking him up and down with a critical eye.
"If you're a man, you should've held on a bit longer," she added mercilessly. "You tensed up like an enraged bull and then—bam—down you went."
Jin could only stare at her, unmoving, with an expression of absolute helplessness that did nothing to help his case.
It's not like I wanted to pass out…
I literally couldn't anymore!
Yan Mei clicked her tongue.
"And now look at you," she continued. "Full of holes, unable to move. Do you know how much extra work you caused us?"
While she continued scolding him without pause, Han Yiling observed the scene from the side of the hall.
She didn't intervene.
She simply rested one hand on the edge of a nearby table, her eyes shining with a mix of amusement and curiosity, as if she were watching a rather entertaining play.
The slight curve of her lips made one thing clear.
She found the interaction… very interesting.
Han Yiling gently raised a hand.
It wasn't a harsh or authoritative gesture—but it was enough.
"Yan Mei," she said lightly, still wearing that gentle smile that never left her face. "Let him breathe a little."
Yan Mei stopped mid-scolding. She clicked her tongue again, clearly dissatisfied, but stepped back.
"Hmph…" she muttered. "Only because Sister Han Yiling says so."
Han Yiling then turned to Jin. Her steps were unhurried as she approached the bed, the soft scent of medicinal herbs growing stronger around her.
"Don't make that face," she said with a low, elegant laugh. "You're not being tortured."
Jin stared at her wide-eyed, immobilized and covered in needles, which made the statement… rather unconvincing.
She delicately gestured toward his body.
"Those needles are connected to the spiritual matrix of this medical hall," she explained. "They continuously extract healing Qi and inject it into your meridians in a controlled manner. They don't just repair muscles and bones… they also stabilize internal damage and overstressed meridians."
Jin blinked slowly.
Constant… Qi?
"Even so," Han Yiling continued, her tone growing a bit more serious, "what you did was excessive. You forced layers of Qi your body still cannot sustain. Even with this treatment, you'll need at least a full month to recover completely."
A month.
Jin's mind froze for an instant… then reacted with surprise that nearly showed in his eyes.
Only one month…?
To be honest with himself, Jin had expected something far worse. He had assumed his right arm would be useless for months, that his meridians would remain unstable, that his cultivation would become chaotic for the entire year. He had even mentally prepared himself to fall irreparably behind while everyone else advanced.
A month… that's ridiculously short.
Inside, a wave of silent relief washed over him.
Han Yiling tilted her head slightly, observing his expression closely.
"I can see you understand now," she said with a faint smile. "You're lucky… and you have a body far more resilient than what should be normal for your level."
Yan Mei snorted from the side.
"Lucky, my foot," she said. "If it weren't for all this, I'd be crying over losing half a year of cultivation."
Jin could only think one thing as he lay there, motionless and full of needles.
…This plot is definitely getting weird.
Han Yiling held Jin's gaze for a few more seconds. Seeing the clear confusion in his eyes—a mix of pain, surprise, and far too many unanswered questions—she gently shook her head.
"Don't worry so much," she said calmly. "You'll understand everything later. Right now, thinking too much won't do you any good."
She straightened gracefully and took a small step back, as if her part was already done.
"The rest of the treatment will be handled by the medical hall's matrix and the assisting disciples," she added. "As long as you don't try to move like some tragic hero, you should be fine."
Jin wanted to reply, but his body remained about as cooperative as a statue.
Han Yiling smiled, amused by the situation, and turned to leave. However, just as she was about to draw one of the curtains and exit the hall, she stopped.
She turned her head slightly and glanced at Yan Mei over her shoulder.
"Oh, Yan Mei," she said softly. "When he recovers in a month… don't be so hard on him."
Yan Mei frowned, surprised.
Han Yiling tilted her head and smiled with a hint of mischief.
"He has quite a cute face," she commented casually. "It would be a shame to always see it injured."
Before Yan Mei could reply, Han Yiling let out a delicate, almost musical laugh and continued toward the exit as if she hadn't said anything at all.
The curtains closed behind her.
Silence filled the hall once more.
Yan Mei stood still for a few seconds… then slowly turned her head toward Jin.
Jin, immobilized, could only stare back.
…This can't be good, he thought.
Yan Mei remained by the bed for a few more seconds, arms crossed, brow furrowed. Her expression quickly shifted from irritation to something more complicated… and finally, she puffed out her cheeks slightly.
She made a small pout, clearly annoyed.
"Hmph…"
Jin tried to speak. Tried anything. A harder blink, the slightest movement of his fingers, a pleading look. Nothing worked.
Yan Mei glanced at him sideways, as if perfectly aware that he was full of questions… and deliberately chose to ignore every single one.
"Rest," she said at last, her voice curt. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
She turned away without offering a single explanation. She walked toward the exit of the medical hall and, just before pulling the curtain aside, paused for a moment. Hesitated. Then clicked her tongue.
"Seriously… what a troublesome guy," she muttered.
And left.
The curtains closed softly, leaving Jin completely alone.
The scent of medicinal herbs grew stronger. The constant, nearly imperceptible hum of the medical matrix filled the air, and healing Qi continued to flow through his body via the needles—cold and steady.
Jin stared at the ceiling, unmoving.
…"He has a cute face that would be a shame to see injured"…?
Han Yiling's words echoed in his mind with unsettling clarity.
"Why did that sound more like a warning than a joke…?" he thought, a knot forming in his stomach.
He didn't know what kind of plot was unfolding around him.
But one thing was clear.
For the first time since arriving in this world…
he was genuinely worried.