That morning, the Lin family residence carried on as usual.
At least, in the eyes of everyone else.
Servants moved in and out of the kitchen with practiced steps.
The sound of pots clinking together drifted through the kitchen doors, mixing with the aroma of light broth filling the dining room.
Upstairs, Lin Xue’s bedroom was already noisy with the sound of a hair dryer and music playing from her phone.
Lady Su reviewed the day’s schedule while selecting a necklace that best matched her morning dress.
Everything looked normal.
Only one thing had changed.
The owner of the room at the end of the hallway was no longer the same Qingyu.
Qingyu had just awake.
This was the first time she had truly slept in this world since awakening inside Lin Qingyu’s body.
The mattress had been far too soft by her standards.
In Azura, cultivators rarely slept for long.
Even when resting, they slept on wooden platforms with thin bedding so their bodies would remain alert.
Here, her body needed proper sleep.
And after a full night of rest, she felt far more refreshed.
She raised her hand and moved her fingers.
Her joints were no longer as stiff as they had been yesterday.
The qi from the Fire Tuber and the touch of the Purple Dragon Stone had done their work, even if only a bit.
The cold that had once clung to her bones had also begun to fade.
The steady pulse beneath her ribs reassured her slightly.
“With enough rest, herbal remedies, and qi, this body should return to normal in around three weeks.
The meridians would take far longer to recover,” she thought.
From then on, she would train in secret, building her strength gradually.
This body had been destroyed little by little.
It would need to be restored the same way.
Qingyu sat at the edge of the bed.
Her feet touched the soft carpet.
The bedroom floor was nothing like the freezing stone floor of the storage room.
The contrast brought back memories of Lin Qingyu’s final nights in the storage room: endless cold, gnawing hunger, locked doors, and the sound of people leaving without once looking back.
Qingyu did not allow the memories to drown her.
Dwelling on those memories would help no one.
To Qingyu now, the best way to honor Lin Qingyu was to protect this body as carefully as possible.
She stood up.
Her legs no longer trembled like they had yesterday.
Not long after, a knock sounded at the door.
It was polite and evenly spaced.
“Miss Qingyu?
May I come in?” a mature woman’s voice asked from outside.
She recognized the voice from Qingyu’s memories, Auntie Yue.
Qingyu walked to the door and opened it.
The woman stood outside carrying a small tray with porridge, a boiled egg, and a glass of warm milk.
Her hair was tied neatly into a bun, and her face carried the weariness of age and years spent serving this household.
Auntie Yue’s eyes widened slightly when she saw Qingyu standing upright.
Only for a second, then she lowered her gaze politely once more.
“Good morning, Miss,” she said softly.
“I thought… perhaps you still needed to eat in your room.”
“Thank you, Auntie.”
Qingyu stepped aside, giving her room to enter.
Auntie Yue walked inside and placed the tray on the study desk.
Her eyes flicked quickly toward Qingyu’s face, then her posture and the way she stood.
The glance was subtle.
But Qingyu noticed all of it.
This woman was checking whether she had truly improved or was merely forcing herself to stand.
“Did you… sleep better than yesterday?” Auntie Yue asked quietly.
“Better,” Qingyu answered.
Truthful, but brief.
Auntie Yue nodded, though something still lingered in her gaze.
It was confusion mixed with hope.
As if she feared believing too quickly that the girl she had watched fade away for years had finally begun breathing properly again.
“Eat first, Miss.”
Qingyu picked up the spoon and stirred the porridge.
The texture was soft, but the aroma was warm.
The moment she tasted the first spoonful, she realized this porridge was different from the ones in Qingyu’s memories.
There was savory chicken broth, tiny pieces of carrot, and a little celery that made it far better than the bland porridge she had expected.
“Did you cook this yourself, Auntie?” she asked.
A flicker of surprise crossed the older woman’s face.
Qingyu usually ate in silence.
“Yes, Miss,” she answered.
“I thought… your body might not be ready for heavier food yet.”
“Thank you.
It tastes good,” Qingyu said honestly.
It was simply a small acknowledgment of someone’s effort, perhaps someone who had rarely been appreciated in this house.
For a short moment, Auntie Yue’s shoulders relaxed.
That simple sentence seemed to ease a burden she had carried for years.
“If Miss needs anything, just call for me,” she said.
“Lady Su said you shouldn’t walk around too much today.
She said Master will likely call often to check on your condition before—”
Before Father returns.
The sentence remained unfinished in the air.
Qingyu did not need to hear the rest.
“I understand,” she replied.
She paused a while before adding softly, “Thank you for taking care of me when… I can’t even remember everything clearly.”
Something flickered in Auntie Yue’s eyes.
Surprise, followed by a faint ache.
The old Qingyu had never spoken this openly.
She had spent too long living in fear of saying the wrong thing.
Auntie Yue nodded in response, then quietly excused herself and closed the door behind her.
Qingyu looked at the closed door for several seconds.
“I don’t need sympathy.
But I do need to know where I stand,” she thought calmly.
Auntie Yue could become useful.
People who still managed to care in a place like this usually saw far more than they admitted aloud.
Qingyu returned to eating without hurry.
Every spoonful was valuable energy for this body.
And perhaps for the steps she would take afterward.
Once she finished eating, she walked toward the window and opened the curtains.
From there, she could see the front yard and part of the estate gate.
Beyond the walls, the city streets were already growing busy.
Cars, motorcycles, buses, and people rushing toward their own destinations moved endlessly through the morning.
“This world feels… noisy and restless,” she thought.
In Azura, mornings usually began with temple bells, the cries of spirit birds, or the distant roar of waterfalls.
Here, mornings arrived with engines, horns, and the sound of humans chasing time itself.
A television voice drifted faintly from downstairs.
At first, the news anchor sounded calm and professional.
Then the tone became noticeably more animated.
“…Xie Group has once again announced a major expansion into the pharmaceutical and medical technology sectors.
Their youngest CEO, Xie Yan—nicknamed the Devil CEO by financial media due to his uncompromising negotiation style—”
Qingyu paused.
“Devil CEO?”
Lin Qingyu’s memories had never paid attention to that name before.
But something about the anchor’s tone caught her interest.
She stepped closer to the wall and listened more carefully.
Her brows furrowed.
Where was this voice coming from?
A moment later, the word television surfaced from Qingyu’s memories.
“…although he rarely appears publicly, his influence in the business world and, according to rumors, the underground world as well, cannot be underestimated.
Analysts predict that within five years, Xie Group may control nearly the entire eastern region’s medical logistics distribution network…”
The connections became clearer in her mind.
If dragons still existed in this world, they had merely changed forms.
They no longer ruled from hidden mountains or ancient sects.
Now they controlled transportation, trade routes, contracts, and the distribution of essential resources.
Qingyu quietly closed the curtains.
Behind a figure like Xie Yan, there would always be a larger network.
Her father’s businesses were tied to herbal medicine and logistics.
Other influential families were likely connected to similar networks.
Eventually, their interests would collide.
The Dragon Point beneath her chest pulsed faintly, and the Purple Dragon Stone felt warm beneath her clothes.
“Good,” she murmured.
“If the dragons of this world wear suits and ties, then I’ll learn their language.”
A knock sounded at the door again.
This time, without polite rhythm.
“Qingyu!” Lin Xue’s voice called from outside.
“Mom said you have to come downstairs.
We’re eating together.
Don’t make things awkward when Dad calls later!”
Qingyu looked at the door for a moment.
She had already eaten, but more food would not hurt.
Besides, going downstairs would give her a chance to observe the dynamics of this household directly.
She adjusted her hair before the mirror.
Then she opened the door.
Lin Xue stood outside wearing expensive silk pajamas, her face already flawless beneath light makeup even though it was still early morning.
A sweet perfume could be smelt from her.
The girl frowned the moment she saw Qingyu.
“You look a little… less pathetic today,” she commented.
“Thank you,” Qingyu replied expressionlessly.
Lin Xue froze for a second.
Her eyes widened a bit before she turned away.
“Just hurry up!”
She walked off faster than usual.
Qingyu followed behind her.
Morning light flooded the second-floor hallway through the large windows at the far end.
The walls were decorated with expensive paintings, family photographs, and carefully chosen ornaments.
In this world, they could create images that looked perfectly real, unlike ordinary paintings.
She also noticed something.
Not a single photo placed Lin Qingyu prominently.
Whenever she appeared at all, she was always somewhere near the edge of the frame, slightly excluded.
Even in family photos, she looked more like decoration than family.
Qingyu walked past them all without stopping.
The stairs inside the Lin residence were exactly the same as yesterday, the day before, and all the years before that.
But today, every step she took downward was something Lin Qingyu had never done with her head held high.
Below, Lady Su’s voice drifted from the dining room, gentle and perfectly controlled.
“Is Qingyu awake already?” she asked.
“She is,” Lin Xue answered lazily.
“She walks like someone who just learned how to live.”
Qingyu paused shortly on the final step.
The sentence was meant as an insult.
Yet strangely enough, Lin Xue was right.
She really was learning how to live in this world for the first time.
From now on, she would not lower her head again.