"Within half a month?"
Zhao Wu's voice, calm at first, deepened with concern as he sat on the main seat of the Zhao Family council hall. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the carved armrest, betraying the unease stirring within him.
"Elder Wang, are you certain of this timeframe?" he asked slowly, his sharp eyes fixed on the old physician.
This matter was not trivial. It could decide the future of the entire Zhao Family. He needed absolute certainty—no assumptions, no errors.
"How dare you doubt my master's skills!"
Before Wang Kun could even respond, his personal disciple, a young man with a face flushed by pride, stepped forward. His voice, sharp with indignation, cut through the tense air.
"Shut up!"
Wang Kun's eyes glinted with brief amusement, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in silent satisfaction at his disciple's loyalty. But he quickly masked it, turning and barking sternly at the youth.
"Have you no eyes? Do you not know where you are, and who is seated here? This is not the place for your loose tongue!"
The rebuke echoed through the high-ceilinged hall. The disciple paled and retreated a step, bowing his head.
Turning back toward Zhao Wu, Wang Kun lowered his tone and gave a slight bow, his expression respectful but composed. "Family Head Zhao, my junior was rash and has offended you. I beg your pardon."
Zhao Wu inhaled deeply, forcing down the displeasure that threatened to rise. "It's fine," he muttered through clenched teeth.
He paused, then gestured with a wave of his hand. "Since I've received the answer I need, you may take your leave."
Wang Kun nodded without another word. With his disciple in tow, he turned and slowly exited the room, the heavy silence behind them thick with unspoken thoughts.
Once they were gone, a middle-aged elder finally broke the tension.
"Family Head, why did you tolerate such insolence from that Wang Kun…" he asked, barely restraining his fury as he stepped forward.
Zhao Wu raised a hand to stop him. "No harm."
He leaned back into his chair, his voice low and thoughtful. "Just a week ago, Wang Kun passed the entrance trial of the Wan Dan Sect. He's now officially a registered disciple."
A murmur rippled through the elders gathered in the room.
Zhao Wu's eyes narrowed. "And not only that—he has already mastered the refining method for Body Tempering Pills."
The elders fell completely silent, the gravity of this revelation sinking in.
"Our Zhao Family provides him with lodging, rare herbs, and resources. In exchange, he supplies us with Body Tempering Pills. As long as he continues this arrangement and does not hinder the family's growth... we must endure his arrogance."
He exhaled slowly, then added with finality, "Let him be."
At his words, the dissenting elder bowed his head in reluctant acknowledgment. The others followed suit. In the face of the Wan Dan Sect's influence, even a newly registered disciple like Wang Kun was a force too significant to antagonize lightly.
…
As the tension in the Zhao Family's council chamber faded into stillness, a new day quietly arrived.
The first soft hues of dawn spilled gently over Qingshi Town, bathing the Luo Family Ancestral Land in a tender, golden light.
Within a secluded courtyard surrounded by ancient stone walls and flowering osmanthus trees, Luo Changfeng—once hailed as the unshakable pillar of the Luo Clan—sat reclined in an old Taishi Chair.
The chair creaked faintly beneath his frail frame. The breeze carried the scent of early morning dew, mingling with the faint mustiness of age.
Though his eyelids drooped, veiling the fire within his eyes, a translucent panel hovered quietly in front of him—a testament to his strange second life.
[Name: Luo Changfeng!][Lifespan: 9 days+][Cultivation Level: Initial Realm of Bone Refinement+][Qi-Blood: 1350! (Safe and controllable level: 135!)][Cultivation Technique: Mortal's Finest – Fierce Tiger Force (Comprehension: 30%+)]
Luo Changfeng's murky gaze suddenly sharpened.
"So… the Qi-Blood I spent yesterday has already replenished?"
He blinked, then did a quick calculation in his mind. "More than thirty points of Qi-Blood recovered overnight?"
A trace of hope flickered within him. But he quickly frowned.
No, something was off.
He'd consumed thirty points of Qi-Blood yesterday afternoon. Now it was only early morning—the sun had not even fully risen.
Which meant… he had recovered thirty Qi-Blood in less than half a day.
His chest stirred with rising emotion.
"If this rate is consistent, then…"
He sat upright with effort, fingers gripping the armrest. His voice, barely a whisper, was tinged with incredulous excitement.
"Then I can temporarily set aside lifespan concerns… and focus on recovering my strength!"
To live in a body that teetered on the edge of death every waking moment was torture.
Even if he had the system, even if he had knowledge and experience—what use was it all, if he didn't have the power to move as he wished?
His dry lips curved into a faint smile, bitter and triumphant.
...
[To raise a minor realm, 100 Qi-Blood points will be expended. Proceed?][Yes!][No!]
As he stretched out his skeletal hand, the familiar prompt appeared before him again.
Without hesitation, Luo Changfeng pressed "Yes."
[Host's choice detected. Deducting 100 Qi-Blood points…][Host's cultivation level is advancing…]
As the cold mechanical voice echoed within his consciousness, a surge of heat bloomed from deep within his chest.
He gritted his teeth as the sensation spread through his veins like wildfire.
Scorching, but not painful.
Cleansing.
His blood, once sluggish and cold, roared with renewed vitality. A wave of strength washed over his frail limbs, filling the emptiness that had haunted him for so long.
The oppressive weight pressing on his shoulders lightened.
The decay that clung to his body—the faint rot that tainted his breath and skin—began to retreat.
Three minutes passed.
Luo Changfeng exhaled slowly, sweat dampening the collar of his robe. His eyes opened, clear and sharp.
"This… is the power of the Intermediate Stage of Bone Refinement?"
He rose from his chair slowly, as though expecting his legs to give out—but they didn't.
He took a step.
Then another.
His limbs trembled, but they obeyed. Not perfectly. Not like before. But enough.
He flexed his fingers—still like bark, still weathered by age—but no longer lifeless.
Strength returned.
Subtle. Partial. But real.
A laugh escaped his lips. Not loud. Not proud. But laced with a joy that came from clawing one step back from the brink.
"I can move freely again."
He clenched his fist. "I can even spar, if only briefly…"
The helplessness, the weariness, the slow crawl toward death—those shadows still lingered, but now, a light had pierced through.
For the first time in days, Luo Changfeng felt like himself again.
The embers of the fierce tiger had not gone out.
Not yet.
And now, they burned anew.