"What should I do?"
"Am I really going to wait for death here, holed up in the Luo Family's ancestral land?"
A throbbing ache settled in Luo Changfeng's temples as his thoughts spiraled deeper into despair. He leaned against the high-backed Taishi chair, its age-worn surface creaking beneath his slight movements. His bones felt like dry wood—brittle, hollow. Though his transmigration had only just happened, the weight of a dying body already pressed down on his spirit like a leaden shroud.
He hadn't needed a physician to confirm it. His breath was short, his limbs weak, and his once-dignified presence had shriveled like a flower in drought.
"I don't know how long I have left," he murmured, his voice hoarse and thin. "But judging from this husk of a body… I'd be lucky to last a month."
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a soft, bitter sigh.
The so-called Elixir of Miracle Cure—the stuff of legends said to extend life, rejuvenate the spirit, and restore vitality—was nothing more than a fantasy for someone in his position. He might carry the title of "Ancestor," but in reality, he was merely the relic of a minor clan's fading glory. Even the lowest-grade spiritual medicines were beyond his reach, let alone those mythical treasures from the pages of ancient cultivation texts.
"Before transmigrating, I thought I wanted this," he muttered wryly to himself, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. "To cross into another world, wield power, defy the heavens…"
"But now that it's real… all I feel is regret."
In his previous life, he might've had a long, uneventful existence ahead—decades of peaceful living, perhaps. Now, he was staring death in the face from a sickbed in a crumbling world, inhabiting the dying shell of a man who had outlived his prime by far too long.
…
The room was dim and silent, lit only by the faint sliver of afternoon light that slipped through the wooden shutters.
Luo Changfeng exhaled, a sigh tinged with bitterness and resignation. As he pushed against the chair's arms, attempting to stand and get a sense of his surroundings, something shimmered before his eyes.
A soft hum, like wind brushing silk, echoed in his ears.
Then, without warning, a translucent interface materialized in midair, floating just beyond his reach.
[Name: Luo Changfeng!](ps: Ancestor of the Luo Family, one of the four great families of Qingshi Town!)
[Lifespan: 7 days+](ps: Remaining time!)
[Cultivation: Initial Realm of Bone Refinement+](ps: Each realm is divided into Initial Realm, Intermediate Stage, Refining Stage, and Perfection!)(Note: Host's peak cultivation was Bone Refinement – Perfection; due to severe depletion of vitality and blood, realm has regressed to Initial Realm!)
[Qi-Blood Value: 1350](ps: This is the Luo Clan's total Qi-Blood value. Safe and usable amount: 135. Excessive use may lead to instability and backlash!)
[Cultivation Technique: Mortal's Finest – Fierce Tiger Strength (Comprehension: 30%+)](ps: Technique ranks from lowest to highest: Trivial, Mortal, Yellow, Profound, Earth, Sky!)
Luo Changfeng blinked.
His heart gave a startled lurch.
"A system?!"
This time, he didn't just imagine it. His Golden Finger—his transmigrator's gift—had arrived.
And yet…
"I thought I had at least ten or twenty days left," he muttered, eyes narrowing on the blinking line: Lifespan: 7 days+. "Seven days? I'm already on borrowed time?"
His breath grew uneven. Panic briefly surged before it was tempered by years of calm reasoning—memories not his own, but inherited from the soul of the old Ancestor. Still, the sensation of death's shadow drawing close wrapped around him like a cold wind.
Then another line caught his eye.
"Qi-Blood Value… 1350. Family total. Safe range: 135."
His brows furrowed.
"Can I… use this Qi-Blood to enhance myself?" he murmured, eyes trailing toward the small [+] icons that floated beside various attributes.
His heart began to pound—not in weakness this time, but with a flicker of hope.
He raised a trembling finger toward the [+] beside Lifespan.
Ding!
A fresh window popped up.
[To increase lifespan by 1 day, 10 Qi-Blood points are required.][Proceed?]
[Yes] – [No]
"So… ten points for one day?" he mused.
"With 135 available points, I can extend my life by… thirteen days, at most."
He frowned.
"That's not enough. Not nearly enough."
The tradeoff was too steep for too little gain. With less than two weeks tacked onto an already-crumbling body, he'd just be delaying the inevitable. Unless…
His gaze shifted toward the [+] beside Cultivation.
He tapped it.
[To upgrade a minor realm, 100 Qi-Blood points are required. Proceed?][Yes] – [No]
"One hundred points for one minor realm…"
"That's almost everything I've got in the safe zone. But if I can push myself into the Intermediate Stage of Bone Refinement…"
His eyes gleamed faintly.
"…I might be able to regain some strength. And if I reach the Organ Refinement Realm, even life extension becomes possible—ten, twenty years, maybe more."
His mind whirled with calculations.
"Should I upgrade my cultivation and buy three extra days with the remaining thirty-five points?"
"Or extend my lifespan now, and wait?"
A question rose in his heart.
"If I use this Qi-Blood… can it be replenished? And if so, how long would it take?"
He stared at the hovering panel, as if expecting an answer.
But no response came.
The system remained still, impassive.
No tooltips. No guidance.
No mercy.
"…So I'll have to test it myself."
He clenched his jaw.
"All right then. Let's begin with three days."
He reached out with his right hand—shaking, skeletal—and pressed the button that would siphon the Luo Clan's vitality for his own survival.
Qingshi Town – Luo Family Ancestral Land
Outside the courtyard of the Ancestor's residence, dusk had begun to settle, painting the sky with streaks of amber and gray.
Luo Ping, current Patriarch of the Luo Family, stepped quickly through the gate and made his way toward his own home. His expression was unreadable, caught somewhere between anxiety and forced calm.
As he entered his courtyard, he suddenly stumbled.
A wave of dizziness surged over him—sharp and unexpected.
He caught himself against a wooden column, his breath hitching.
The sensation passed as quickly as it came, leaving only a thin sheen of sweat on his brow.
"…Strange," he muttered.
Shrugging off the episode, he entered his study, where a young man waited with a teapot already steaming.
"My son—my son…"
He had barely crossed the threshold when he spoke.
Luo Chuan, dressed in pristine white robes, looked up calmly from his seat. His face was fair and refined, almost delicate, but his eyes carried a quiet sharpness that belied his youthful features.
"Father, you're the head of the Luo Family," he said, voice smooth and measured. "What kind of impression are you leaving, storming in like a frightened rabbit?"
He poured a cup of tea, precise and deliberate, then gestured toward the empty seat.
"Come. Sit. Breathe. Then speak."
Luo Ping obeyed instinctively, lowering himself into the armchair across from his son. He gulped down the tea in a single motion, then exhaled sharply.
"I did as you instructed," he said in a low voice, setting the cup down with a soft clink. "I threw the problem to Elder Changfeng's feet, exactly as you said."
Luo Chuan raised a brow.
"And?"
"The Ancestor… he was different today."
Luo Ping leaned forward slightly, voice dropping further. "He didn't just nod and wave us off like before. He actually asked for my opinion. He looked me in the eye and demanded my thoughts."
He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly unsettled.
"I couldn't say much—I didn't dare. I simply parroted both sides, played it safe."
Luo Chuan's expression tightened slightly.
"He asked for your opinion…?"
"Yes."
For a brief moment, the flicker of unease passed across the young man's face.
He turned his gaze toward the courtyard window, where the sun's final rays spilled across the floor.
"The Ancestor," he said quietly, "may not be as close to death as we thought."
Luo Ping looked startled.
"You think…"
"I think," Luo Chuan said, eyes narrowing, "we need to reassess everything."