That morning, Qingyu woke before the sun had fully risen.
The room was still dim.
The white curtains by the window allowed only a faint bluish light into the room.
For a few seconds, Qingyu remained lying still, quietly sensing the condition of her body.
For the first time since waking in this new body, she felt truly calm.
The sudden dizziness and the coldness that usually crept from her bones to her chest every morning… were gone.
She took a long breath.
This body was finally beginning to accept recovery.
She sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at her own hands for a long while.
The pale skin, the fragile frame, the lingering weakness… all of it still belonged to Lin Qingyu.
Yet for the first time since arriving in this world, she felt that this body was truly beginning to become hers.
Outside the room, the Lin residence was still quiet.
There were no sounds of servants moving about or activity from the kitchen yet.
The clock on the bedside table showed a little past five.
Still too early.
Qingyu rose and walked toward the window.
Cold air brushed against her face the moment she opened the glass slightly.
The sky was not fully bright yet.
A thin mist still hung above the rear garden.
Her eyes moved unconsciously toward the old storage shed near the side of the house.
It looked as silent as usual.
But Qingyu knew her life had changed there.
That was where she had first opened her eyes in Lin Qingyu’s body.
It was also where she had felt the remnants of despair, loneliness, and fear left behind in this girl’s body.
Her gaze softened faintly.
“Qingyu…” she murmured.
The name now felt both unfamiliar and close.
“We are getting healthier.”
She fell silent for a moment before speaking again in her heart.
Even if you never asked for it… I won’t leave this unfinished.
Not only because this body now belonged to her.
There was something in Lin Qingyu’s memories that remained too deeply rooted to ignore.
The fear every time she drank that tea.
The weakness that worsened little by little.
And the feeling that her life was slowly being stolen without anyone noticing.
Qingyu’s gaze darkened slightly.
Lady Su was most likely connected to the poison distributor.
But her instincts told her this matter was not as simple as a fight over family inheritance or ordinary household hatred.
Her thoughts returned to the man at the hospital yesterday.
The bruising pattern had not been random, which had become the signature symptom of this poison.
Even the doctors did not yet know what kind of toxin exposure had attacked the victims.
If this poison was unknown on Earth, perhaps it was because the poison did not originate from this world.
Old memories from Azura surfaced faintly in her mind.
Dimensional rifts, and people who crossed into other worlds to survive, or for other purposes.
Her father had once said something.
“If another world is ever discovered, the most dangerous thing will not be monsters or war.
It will be humans carrying old ambitions into a new place.”
Qingyu closed her eyes for a moment.
“Perhaps someone from that ‘clan’ reached Earth…”
There was no proof yet.
But more and more signs felt far too coincidental.
If it was true, she would have to be careful.
In the end, she let out a breath and left the room.
Fresh cold air greeted her as soon as she stepped out of the main house.
The grass in the garden was still covered in dew.
Sunlight began to appear faintly behind the tall trees, forming a thin golden line along the eastern sky.
Qingyu walked toward the greenhouse at an unhurried pace.
When she arrived, she opened the glass door.
The scent of damp soil immediately welcomed her.
The air inside was slightly warmer than outside.
She walked to the right side of the greenhouse, where the natural energy felt a little more stable than in the other areas.
Qingyu sat cross-legged and closed her eyes.
This time, she did not try to absorb a large amount of qi.
Lin Qingyu’s body was not ready for that yet.
Her focus was only one thing: refining the circulation.
She performed the most basic White Dragon technique, the only version still safe for her current body.
The air around her moved with the rhythm of her breathing.
Small leaves on the plant shelves trembled faintly.
Dewdrops at the tips of leaves shook almost imperceptibly.
Thin streams of qi flowed quietly through her meridians, gradually loosening the blockages inside them.
An hour passed without her noticing.
Then Qingyu realized something.
She was not tired at all.
Usually, this body would begin to feel heavy after thirty minutes of light training.
But this time, she felt no symptoms.
She slowly opened her eyes.
Her gaze was far clearer than it had been a few days ago.
“The cumulative effects are starting to work,” she murmured.
The amount of qi in her body had not increased much, but its flow was much cleaner.
The small blockages that had once felt rough were beginning to weaken.
“In a few more days, I can start light physical training.”
She stood and picked up the watering can near the shelf.
Water flowed gently over the surface of the soil.
Small leaves trembled as droplets touched them, reflecting the morning light that was growing brighter.
Qingyu observed the plants as she thought.
Earth was not truly dead.
Natural energy still existed in this world.
It was simply extremely thin and chaotic.
As if its pathways had once been cut off or sealed for a very long time.
And that was when she felt something move.
Qingyu stopped.
In the corner of the greenhouse near the back wall, the soil shifted slightly.
A few seconds later, the small silver snake emerged from a crack in the ground.
Its slender body shimmered softly beneath the morning sunlight.
Its scales looked cleaner than an ordinary snake’s, almost like thin metal in a pale silver color.
Something was held in its mouth.
Qingyu did not move.
Her gaze narrowed faintly as the snake approached her.
The little snake looked livelier than before.
Even its movements looked steadier now, as though the energy in the greenhouse had begun to affect it.
The silver snake stopped near Qingyu’s feet.
Then it placed the object it carried onto the ground.
An ordinary snake might have brought a random stone or twig.
But the moment Qingyu saw the object, her expression shifted faintly.
It was a root, long and slender.
Its color was a dull gray, almost like an ordinary wild root.
But on its surface were pale green fibers that moved ever so faintly beneath the skin of the root.
And most importantly, the root was pulsing.
The pulse was extremely weak, almost impossible for an ordinary person to sense.
But to Qingyu, it was as clear as a tiny heartbeat.
She immediately knelt.
The moment her finger touched the root, a faint cold sensation spread toward the tips of her meridians.
Qingyu’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Resonance Root…” she whispered.
In Azura, this plant was considered a grade-four material because of its unique nature.
It had little value for healing or poison.
However, its ability to resonate with and absorb qi waves made it extremely rare.
The plant only grew in places touched by natural qi, even if the qi flow was thin or damaged.
Qingyu closed her eyes briefly while still touching the root.
The vibration she felt was not coming from the greenhouse.
She slowly opened her eyes and raised her head toward the back wall of the greenhouse.
“This root was exposed to qi from outside.”
The silver snake hissed softly.
Qingyu released a small thread of qi from her fingertip.
A faint vibration immediately emerged from the root.
And the direction of the resonance came from far away.
Not from around the Lin residence.
Something out there was still releasing qi into this world.
Qingyu remained silent for a long time.
“So Earth is not lacking qi…” she thought calmly.
“Its qi is merely being held back.”
Like a great river blocked by stones for years.
Natural energy still existed.
But its pathways had been severed.
She looked at the root for a while longer.
If qi pathways truly still existed, then the possibility of other spiritual materials appearing was much greater than she had expected.
And that meant…
Someone else might have discovered them first.
The thought made her gaze darken slightly.
Qingyu picked up a small clay pot and carefully planted the Resonance Root inside.
She guided a little qi into the soil.
A few seconds later, the root pulsed again.
More clearly than before.
A tiny pale green leaf moved faintly, as though sensing something familiar.
To an ordinary person, the root might look like a strange plant with no value.
But to Qingyu, the small thing before her was far more important than a spiritual material.
It was a clue.
A clue that Earth might not be truly cut off from the cultivation world.
Inside the main house, Lady Su stood before the mirror in her bedroom.
She was putting on her earrings for the third time that morning.
The dress she wore was perfect.
Her hair was arranged neatly, without a single strand out of place.
Her face remained calm.
But her thoughts were in chaos.
Qingyu was no longer lying weakly in bed.
The tea had been stopped.
And worse, Qingyu was changing too quickly.
Lady Su did not know how the girl had recovered.
The doctors had found nothing.
Father Lin had begun paying attention to her again.
And most disturbing of all…
Qingyu’s gaze was different now.
She no longer looked like a girl who was always afraid.
Her eyes were no longer empty.
She was far calmer, almost like a different person.
“No…” she whispered, barely audible.
“This is too fast.”
She was not truly afraid of Qingyu.
What she feared was time no longer being on her side.
At Xie Corporation, the morning atmosphere was far colder.
Xie Yan sat behind his desk, reading a digital report from Black Mask Devil’s private laboratory.
The result remained the same.
Unknown poison.
There was no matching composition in any medical or international criminal database.
The substance seemed to have appeared from a place that had never been recorded.
Xie Yan closed the thin screen in front of him.
Assistant Qiang stood silently beside the desk.
“Still no match?” Xie Yan asked.
“None, Young Master Xie.”
Xie Yan tapped the table lightly with his finger.
His gaze was calm, but his brows furrowed slightly.
“We’re facing something different this time…”
For some reason, he felt that all of this was only the beginning.
Not just the poison case.
And not the work of an ordinary illegal organization either.
Something larger was moving behind the scenes.
And his instincts were rarely wrong.
After finishing her practice, Qingyu stood in front of the greenhouse and looked at the rising sun.
Golden light covered the rear garden of the Lin residence.
Inside the small pot beside her, the Resonance Root remained still, without any eye-catching glow.
But Qingyu knew it was still pulsing, listening to and sensing the qi around it.
The morning breeze moved gently through the leaves inside the greenhouse.
Qingyu looked up at the sky for a long time.
And for the first time since arriving in this world…
She felt as if Earth was speaking to her.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, she was beginning to hear it.