The door to the room opened with a soft criiic.

  An old man walked in at an unhurried pace. He wore simple, muted robes—clean, but worn from long use. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, his back slightly hunched, and his expression calm, the kind belonging to someone who had seen far too much to be easily surprised. Everything about him screamed veteran physician.

  He took a couple more steps forward…

  and then he looked up.

  He saw Jin sitting on the bed.

  The old man froze.

  Literally.

  His eyes widened, his body jerked slightly, and he nearly jumped backward, as if he had just seen a corpse sit up and greet him.

  “—Wha—!?”

  Jin, who hadn’t expected that reaction, opened his eyes in surprise.

  What the hell is wrong with this old man…?

  Has he never seen someone this handsome before or what?

  For several awkward seconds, neither of them spoke. The old man stared at him as if he were witnessing a miracle… or a nightmare. Jin watched him with one eyebrow slightly raised, growing more confused by the second.

  Deciding the silence had gone on long enough, Jin cleared his throat.

  “Ahem…”

  The old man flinched again.

  “Hello, sir,” Jin continued politely, though clearly disoriented. “Could you… please… tell me what’s going on and where I am?”

  The old man blinked several times, as if he needed to confirm he wasn’t dreaming. Then he moved forward slowly, approaching the bed with cautious steps, as though Jin might disintegrate at any moment.

  “You…” he murmured. “You should be unconscious. For at least… a week.”

  Jin sighed quietly.

  Great.

  Looks like waking up early wasn’t part of the plan.

  The old man reacted abruptly.

  Without offering any explanation, he took another step forward and grabbed Jin’s wrist with a speed completely at odds with his calm appearance.

  “Hey!” Jin exclaimed, startled. “Sir, at least give me some warning—”

  But before he could say anything else, a stream of Qi flowed from the old man’s hand and entered his body.

  Jin fell silent immediately.

  It wasn’t violent or invasive Qi, but it was clear, stable, and refined—something only someone with solid foundations could possess.

  …Foundation Establishment, he thought instantly.

  He didn’t need more than that brief contact to be sure. He had felt something very similar before.

  The image of Senior Sister Mei crossed his mind.

  She was at the same stage… though her Qi was completely different. Hers was dominant, sharp, like a drawn sword that inspired respect even without intent. Compared to that, this old man’s Qi was gentler, more restrained.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Even so, he was undeniably someone at the Foundation Establishment stage.

  Meanwhile, the old man frowned more deeply with every passing second. His Qi traveled through Jin’s meridians, inspecting them with extreme care, stopping again and again at certain points, as if he couldn’t believe what he was finding.

  “This…” he murmured. “Your meridians…”

  Jin swallowed.

  So this is where they tell me I’m crippled now, huh?

  The old man withdrew his Qi slightly, then injected it again, checking the same spot once more, as if he suspected his senses were playing tricks on him.

  “Impossible…” he whispered.

  Jin couldn’t help but ask,

  “Is… is it very bad?”

  The old man slowly raised his gaze, his eyes filled with a strange mix of shock, confusion, and something bordering on disbelief.

  “No,” he said. “That’s what’s most perplexing.”

  He tightened his grip on Jin’s wrist.

  “Your body…” he said gravely. “It has almost completely recovered.”

  Jin’s heart skipped a beat.

  …Huh?

  The old man finally released his wrist and took a small step back, still frowning, as if he were reorganizing everything he knew about the world.

  “Listen carefully,” he said at last, clearing his throat. “Aside from the physical pain you’re feeling, your body has already recovered almost entirely.”

  Jin blinked.

  “Almost…?”

  “Yes. At this rate,” the old man continued, looking him up and down, “the wound on your abdomen will disappear completely in a single day. Even without additional intervention.”

  That genuinely shocked Jin.

  Before he could respond, the old man began muttering to himself, pacing in small circles.

  “Abnormal regenerative capacity… tissues reconstructed without rejection… contaminated meridians yet still stable… this makes no sense… not even with high-grade pills…”

  Jin listened… and understood absolutely none of it.

  He cautiously raised a hand.

  “Ahem… sir.”

  The old man looked at him.

  “So,” Jin said seriously, “does that mean I’m fine?”

  “Correct.”

  Jin sighed in relief—only to frown a moment later.

  “Then… why do I look like a mummy?”

  He glanced at his bandaged arms, his torso, even part of his neck.

  “And something even more important,” he added with genuine concern. “What did you use to treat me so quickly? You didn’t use expensive resources, did you?”

  The old man raised an eyebrow.

  “Because I’ll say this upfront,” Jin continued. “I’m poor. Very poor. Extremely poor. Outer disciple with no backing. I can’t afford anything expensive—not now, not in the next… let’s say… hundred years.”

  Silence fell instantly.

  The old man stood completely still, staring at him as if he had just seen a spiritual beast speak.

  “…”

  “Sir?” Jin asked awkwardly. “You still with me?”

  The old man blinked once.

  Then again.

  Finally, he took a deep breath.

  “What kind of young man…” he murmured, pressing a hand to his forehead, “talks like this after returning from the brink of death?”

  He looked Jin up and down, as if trying to confirm he wasn’t hallucinating.

  “Others would wake up crying, thanking the heavens or asking about their fate,” he continued. “You… worry about debts.”

  Jin shrugged naturally.

  “Debts kill more cultivators than demons, sir.”

  The old man was left speechless.

  For the third time since entering the room, he was completely stunned.

  He remained silent for a few more seconds, observing Jin as if trying to accept an uncomfortable truth about the world.

  Finally, he let out a deep sigh.

  A long sigh, heavy with resignation.

  “Calm down,” he said at last, waving a hand. “Aside from emergency treatment and some medicinal herbs…”

  He paused and glanced at Jin sideways.

  “Which were not expensive at all.”

  Jin froze.

  “Really?” he asked cautiously. “Normal level? No legendary pills made from phoenix tears or ancient dragon blood?”

  “Where in the hell would we even get something like that?” the old man replied dryly.

  Jin released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

  “Thank the heavens…”

  “So you don’t need to worry about paying back spirit stones,” the old man continued. “No one is charging you anything.”

  That was enough to almost make Jin smile.

  “Ah, then everything’s fine. In that case, sir, I also wanted to ask—”

  “No.”

  The old man turned away before Jin could finish the sentence.

  Without looking back, he walked toward the door with quick, decisive steps.

  Jin instinctively reached out a hand.

  “Huh? But I just wanted to ask where I—”

  The door opened.

  “Rest,” the old man said from the doorway, clearly determined not to hear another word. “Someone will come later to explain the rest.”

  And without giving him any chance to respond, he left the room and closed the door behind him.

  Silence returned.

  Jin sat on the bed, blinking.

  “…What a personality,” he muttered.

  Then he carefully lay back, staring at the ceiling.

  “Definitely,” he added with a crooked smile, “he preferred to flee rather than follow my train of thought.”

  The room settled into calm once more, while Jin— for the first time since the fight—could rest without feeling like he was about to die at any moment.