He's been in a coma for eight days...

Su Ji's consciousness struggled upward from boundless darkness. The first sense to return was smell.

A faint but lingering fragrance, like orchids in a mountain valley after rain, crept into his nostrils.

Next came touch.

The surface beneath him was soft.

So soft that it gave his body, which felt as though it had been crushed over and over, the illusion of being gently lifted.

The pillow, too, was soft, carrying the same orchid scent as the air—even stronger.

With tremendous effort, Su Ji pried open his eyelids, which felt as heavy as mountains.

What met his eyes was an intricately carved bed canopy draped in thin, moon-white gauze.

Turning his stiff neck, he looked around.

This was a finely furnished single bedroom. The tables, chairs, cabinets, and shelves were all made of wood that gave off a faint scent of sandalwood. Though Su Ji knew little about woodworking, he could tell from the natural, rippling grain of the wood that it was anything but cheap.

Only the wealthy or noble could afford furniture like this.

Su Ji blinked—his only movable part—and his mind began to race.

His last memory was of dragging his exhausted body forward, carrying the unconscious Su Jiu in his arms as he trudged toward the Chaotic Star Sea.

He didn't know how long he'd walked.

He didn't know if he'd even reached the fabled sea.

By the end, muscle memory alone had propelled him forward…

And then… nothing.

He must have collapsed from exhaustion.

So now he was… picked up by some absentminded—no, kind-hearted person?

Su Ji's heart skipped a beat. His first instinct wasn't relief—it was caution.

Where was Su Jiu?!

He called out to her in his mind.

Once.

Twice.

No response.

The sea of consciousness, where a small pink lamp always burned, was now empty and silent—a stillness that sent a chill through his heart.

Su Ji's heart clenched. A wave of panic swept through him.

He tried to sit up, but his body felt as though every tendon and bone had been stripped away. He couldn't even move a finger.

The wound through his chest had stopped bleeding, but it still throbbed with searing pain.

More critically, his dantian—the core of his cultivation—was a wreck.

He couldn't sense even a trace of spiritual energy.

Lying there, Su Ji's mind went blank.

His cultivation was gone. He was severely injured. And his junior sister was missing…

No. Stay calm!

He forced himself to focus.

This wasn't the wilderness, so whoever rescued him meant no harm—at least for now.

As for Su Jiu…

She had been in his arms when he lost consciousness.

No rescuer would leave her behind.

She was probably nearby.

Or maybe she'd woken up before being found and merged back into his body?

After all, strictly speaking, his injuries were worse than hers.

Had she entered some deep self-sealed state?

Just as Su Ji's thoughts spiraled—

"Creak—"

A faint footstep sounded outside.

Accompanying it was the crisp jingle of bells.

"Jingle… jingle…"

The sound was pleasant but jarring in the quiet room.

Instinctively, Su Ji shut his eyes and smoothed his breathing into a slow, steady rhythm.

Whether friend or foe, until he understood the situation, playing dead was the best choice.

The footsteps paused at the door.

The bell sound softened, reduced to nearly silent taps.

The footsteps resumed—closer, lighter.

Whoever it was seemed afraid to wake him.

"Creak—"

The door cracked open.

A cold breeze swept in, stirring the curling smoke from the incense burner on the table.

Su Ji caught the scent.

The same orchid fragrance from the pillow, mixed into the wind, wrapped around him.

It was the room's owner.

The footsteps stopped beside the bed.

He could feel a gaze falling on his face—curious.

He kept his breathing shallow. Still.

After perhaps ten breaths, a voice whispered into his ear:

"Hey…"

"Are you awake…"

"Are you awake… Hey…"

A woman.

Her voice was beautiful—crisp with a hint of sweetness—but the sneaky way she asked was oddly strange.

Su Ji continued to play dead.

Unwilling to give up, she moved closer.

He felt warm breath brush past his ear, bringing a soft, ticklish warmth.

The orchid scent grew clearer.

"Are you awake or not…"

"Are you awake yet…"

She asked again, even quieter, practically whispering into his ear.

Su Ji: "…"

Only one thought crossed his mind: she was probably beautiful.

He mentally cursed, but his body stayed rigid—even his eyelids didn't twitch.

"That shouldn't be…"

Seeming to give up, the woman muttered to herself in frustration.

"He's been unconscious for eight days…"

"Why isn't he waking up?"

Eight days?

Su Ji's heart stirred.

He'd been out that long?

Well, he was badly wounded.

Just as he expected her to leave—

Something cold touched his cheek.

A slightly cool finger… poked his cheek.

"Hiss…"

He almost flinched.

But really, it wasn't that tender. That poke happened to hit a wound on his face that hadn't fully healed. The sharp shock nearly made him break his act.

"Huh? No reaction?"

Finding it amusing, she poked him again.

Su Ji: "…"

"Let me try more…"

Her hand, unsatisfied with just his face, began to move down his neck, as if checking for other interesting spots.

Don't go too far!

Su Ji cursed inwardly but didn't dare move.

Endure!

Just when he braced himself to "sacrifice to the tiger," the roaming hand stopped at his chest.

Through the thin inner garment, he felt her searching for something.

"How strange…"

Her voice was thick with confusion.

"He's clearly human… so why does he have this faint trace of demonic aura…"