A week had passed since the day I regressed, gained the ability to cultivate, and formed my dantian, and yet the Life and Death Doctor still had not arrived. The days stretched on, long and torturous, filled with the uneasy rhythm of my cautious attempts at adjusting to this time period.
Every morning, every movement, every word I spoke felt like a potential trap. I cultivated in secret, hiding in corners, retreating into empty rooms, always alert to the eyes of Geonu and the other servants, knowing even a single misstep could draw suspicion.
Adapting to this life was far harder than I had anticipated. Simple gestures, the mannerisms of servants, the tone of speech expected of me—all required careful attention. I had forgotten so many small things, and the more I forgot, the more mistakes I made.
A misstep in etiquette, a hesitation in speech, a small lapse in memory, and Geonu's sharp eyes would notice. Each time, my heart would skip a beat, my palms would sweat, and I would force myself to hide my inner panic, pretending as if nothing had happened.
Despite the difficulty, progress came. My internal energy—the qi I had absorbed into my dantian and converted into my own—had now accumulated to roughly a year's worth. A full year of energy coursed within me circulating, and I felt its latent potential stirring with every heartbeat.
'I had to make good use of my time while waiting for the Life and Death Doctor to arrive since I can't afford to waste a second,' I reminded myself, mentally scolding my own impatience. Each pulse of qi was a reminder of how fragile and precious this second chance truly was, while also being a reminder of my achievement of curing my incapability to cultivate.
This progress was absurdly fast. Normally, gathering even a single year's worth of qi would take months, perhaps years, for ordinary practitioners, yet here I was, moving at a pace that was nearly unnatural. I suspected the leftover qi from the qi herb I had consumed earlier was responsible.
'That herb had been a rare and valuable treasure, something martial artists and cultivators alike sought for increasing internal energy. That qi herb really was a miracle drug…' I thought, bitterness curling in my chest. It's frustrating that I wasted so much of it because of my own stupidity.
During my initial qi deviation, much of the herb's energy had been lost, squandered by my recklessness. Only a fraction remained in my body dormant, slowly being absorbed through careful cultivation. That remaining energy, although small compared to the herb's original potency, was still far more than an ordinary person could hope to gather in a year. After all the qi herb had originally contained about thirty years' worth of qi.
'If I had absorbed it properly, I could have gained at least twenty-five years' worth of internal energy'—a lifetime's advantage squandered. But the past could not be changed, even after regressing. Still… I managed to absorb one year's worth of qi. I should just focus on taking in whatever is left so I don't waste any more of it, I resolved, swallowing the bitter taste of regret.
Even with a year's worth of energy, the reality of my situation weighed heavily. I had only three months, perhaps even less, to reach the strength necessary to prevent the upcoming tragedy of 'That Day.' At my current pace, I was nowhere near that strength. The gap between my current abilities and what I needed seemed almost insurmountable.
My muscles, my body, my qi—they were improving, but it was like trying to fill an ocean with a small cup. Frustration gnawed at me. Even now, with a dantian formed, I could not relax for a single moment. 'No… I can't lose patience. Depending on my talent, I might still reach the bare minimum in time.'
Talent dictated cultivation, as it dictated success in any craft or profession. Of course hard work mattered, but in the end, the heavens, martial arts, and cultivation favored those with innate ability. If I was talented, perhaps I could reach the necessary strength before 'That Day.' But I doubted it would be so simple.
My meridians had been blocked before; I had never had the chance to see or show any natural talent. I couldn't even know whether I had any innate ability at all. 'How would I even know if I have any talent? I couldn't cultivate for years. It was only sheer luck that I even regressed…'
Doubts clouded my mind, uncertainty pressing down like a weight. Panic rose as I imagined failure, imagining everything collapsing, seeing my past mistakes replay in endless loops. The intense craving within me reacted to my panic, whispering faint, incomprehensible words, trying to pull me out of my spiraling thoughts.
It wanted to remove the bothersome panic from my mind, to clear my path. It attempted to twist my fear into motivation, but my panic was too deep to be easily quelled. 'What am I going to do if I'm not talented enough? Will effort even be enough to make up for it?!' The thought echoed, insistent and unrelenting.
Time marched on relentlessly. The closer 'That Day' approached, the more sharply my options presented themselves. I could run, abandon everyone again, leaving behind all my second chances, or I could face what was coming, risking death but confronting it head-on.
Either choice carried the possibility of waste, either would squander the precious second chance I had been given. 'No… I can't run away. If I do, it'll be just like before. I'll repeat all the regrets of my past life.'
Running away was not an option. From the beginning, my path had been chosen. I would fight, no matter my strength, no matter my doubts, I would fight till the end no matter how futile and dark my future could be. As this resolve settled in my mind, panic ebbed. The intense craving surged, amplifying my determination, fueling my emotions until they overflowed like a dam breaking.
A tired smirk crept across my face. 'My emotions… they're overflowing. This is the perfect chance to cultivate.'
Over the past few days, I had realized that the intense craving triggered my emotions, flooding my body in a way that harmonized perfectly with the cult's cultivation method. The Nine Suffering Expression Manual taught how emotions could accelerate cultivation. Stronger emotions meant faster growth, more energy converted, sharper focus of the body's potential, and hope brings out the strongest of emotion out of a person.
Perhaps, unconsciously, I had been using the craving, deliberately pushing myself down and letting despair rise, then channeling that into cultivation each time. Seeing this, I planned to harness it fully, to maximize my speed and save precious time.
'Alright… no use overthinking the future. I should focus on what I can do right now.'
I seated myself in the lotus position, preparing my body for cultivation, breathing in rhythm with the meditative method of the Nine Suffering Expression Manual. My muscles relaxed, my mind cleared, every cell anticipating the surge of energy about to enter my dantian. 'Alright… I'm done preparing. Let's use this opportunity to cultiva—'
Knock! Knock!
A sharp rap interrupted me before I could even begin. My concentration shattered, my heart skipped a beat. Normally, I could have ignored it, but this felt different. I had to know who it was, why they were knocking. Reluctantly, I rose, moving to the door with measured steps, trying not to appear flustered.
"Young lord, are you awake? I have something important to inform you."
"Yes, just wait a moment," I replied cautiously.l while also being in a hurry as with each second the opportunity to cultivate faded.
The voice belonged to an elderly woman, familiar yet distant after regression. I grasped the door handle and opened it to see her: an elderly woman with mostly gray hair, light wrinkles, and a servant's attire slightly finer than most. Her name was Bi Hwa Seol, one of the oldest and most trusted servants, once caretaker of my mother, and now responsible for overseeing me and my house finances.
"What is it you wish to inform me of, Miss Bi?" I asked politely, trying to maintain composure while hiding any odd behavior that they weren't accustomed to seeing from me.
"I am here to inform you that the Life and Death Doctor has arrived and is waiting in the courtyard." She said the news bluntly as if it wasn't all that important to know.
"WHAT?!" The words escaped before I could stop them. There was no time to waste; I had to greet the Life and Death Doctor immediately or risk disrespect. Without hesitation, I dashed past Bi Hwa Seol and several stunned servants, adrenaline and excitement pushing me forward.
I arrived in the courtyard, chest heaving, sweat dripping. "Oh! Young Master, you're already here! The Life and Death Doctor has just arrived," Geonu said, bowing slightly.
"Huff… Really? Then lead me to him," I panted.
Geonu guided me to the entrance of my own home, where an imposing figure waited: an old man with long white hair and beard, dressed in a physician's robe, carrying a staff and a medicinal bag. I quickly clasped my hands together, bowing slightly.
"I greet the Life and Death Doctor, Guyang So Hwang." I said with a formal tone filled with respect and familiarity.
"I greet the Eighth Young Lord, Jeonsa Grace," he replied. The greeting was polite, though I could not tell if it was genuine respect or mere courtesy.
He was the cult's greatest physician, one of the greatest healers in the world, the personal doctor of the cult leader, and a member of the Guyang Clan, one of the Seven Ghost Clans known for poison, medicine, and assassination.
I called him Doctor Guyang because this was not the first time he had come to see me; once a month he would examine my condition and attempt to treat it, and over the years, we had grown familiar with each other. Calling him simply Doctor Guyang was easier and still respectful.
'Finally… Doctor Guyang is here. I was growing tired of waiting.' My internal injuries still throbbed, fragile reminders of my previous mistakes, though I had grown used to the pain over the week.
After greetings, Doctor Guyang spoke, slightly annoyed. "I heard you did something incredibly foolish and severely injured yourself."
"Ha-ha… Yes, I did," I replied, trying to sound lighthearted and guilty.
"So how are you already awake? With injuries like yours, you shouldn't have woken for at least a month." He said with a tone filled with suspicion, doubts and... expectations.
This was very surprising, I never once heard him talk with expectations from me, merely speaking if required to and saw me as nothing but a monthly chore. But that didn't mean this sudden change wasn't unwelcomed as receiving expectations can be both fulfilling and burdensome that someone actually expects something of me but I tend to lean on the positive side.
But it wasn't time focus on that because I wasn't expecting or was ready to answer Doctor Guyang question, especially since I can tell that my sudden awakening from regression wasn't something supposed to happen since I was supposed to be in a coma for a whole month straight and he would be gone after treatint me before I could even wake up and greet him.
"Well… let's head inside first. We can talk there," I said, hoping to buy time for a plausible excuse for my sudden awakening. And the reveal of the truth—that I had regained the ability to cultivate—was impossible to prove and showcase out in the open.
Once inside, Geonu moved to prepare green tea, but I upon noticing was terrified and quickly stopped him. I ordered another servant to handle it; Doctor Guyang was particular, and any mistake or disrespect from Geonu's cooking skills could result in refusal to treat me. Soon, green tea was served. He sipped, resting from his journey. I, meanwhile, scrambled for an excuse that could hide my secret. 'Oh no… what am I going to do? I can't think of anything that would fool him!'
"Eighth Young Lord, I must ask how are you awake? In cases like yours, people usually fall into a coma or even… worse." He said with a tone that demand answers immediately.
"I-I honestly don't know why I'm awake," I stammered appearing extremely nervous and suspicious. This was the best I could come up with as saying something else would have made even more questions that are harder to answer.
"You don't know? Hmm…" Doctor Guyang fell silent, deep in thought. My heart pounded as I waited for his judgment. Was my excuse flimsy? Could he see through it?
Finally, he spoke with a slightly doubtful expression. "Then, if that is the case, allow me to read your pulse."
"Read my pulse?" I asked, startled.
"If you won't tell me, or if you truly don't know, I will simply find out myself." He showed no concern for whether I was lying; he was here to do his work. Even if I had confessed my regression, he would never have believed it and would consider it the rambling of a insane child.
I extended my wrist, the usual spot for pulse reading. Doctor Guyang took it in his fingers and began. Almost immediately, I felt a foreign energy enter my body, uncomfortable and almost jarring. This wasn't the first time he read my pulse; he came once a month, ostensibly on my father's orders, but I suspected more. The eccentric physician of the Guyang Clan, a black sheep, more focused on medicine than poison, could sense more than most.
But this was different. I had never felt such qi before. 'Is it because I can cultivate now? Am I sensing Doctor Guyang's qi entering and moving throughout my body?' I realized then why martial artists disliked pulse readings; another person's qi could analyze your meridians, disrupt your dantian, or worse. But I trusted him. He was a doctor who had morals, values, and live by their code of treating the ill, it's in their nature to heal than to harm. I endured the uncomfortable experience, suppressing fear of suddenly being betrayed.
"HUH?!" After a moment, Doctor Guyang abruptly stopped. His eyes widened as if witnessing the impossible. He had discovered my newly formed dantian. I continued pretending ignorance to make my excuse believable.
"What is it? Is something wro—" I said with a pretending tone of worry and confusion, trying to enhance and solidify my act of obliviousness to the situation.
"How is this possible?! How could such a thing happen?! This should be impossible!" Doctor Guyang exclaimed. The disbelief in his voice was absolute.
He had uncovered something no one had thought possible even him, something I had been waiting a week to have revealed.
"How did you form your dantian?!"