The heavy silence was interrupted by the sound of the gourd falling to the ground.

  The old woman froze, her face pale, as if she had seen a ghost. Her eyes, wrinkled by time, trembled with disbelief.

  Feng Lin, standing before her, observed the scene without emotion. He could see the deep wrinkles on her face, signs of years of toil and suffering. Unlike the others, she had never abandoned him, watching over him even when he was lost in unconsciousness.

  But at this moment, he had neither the strength nor the interest to dwell on that detail.

  He took a step forward.

  His body felt heavy, as if he were carrying invisible chains. His legs trembled under his own weight, and a dull pain climbed up his spine.

  Feng Lin clenched his teeth.

  — Pathetic...

  He had never felt such extreme weakness. Even an ordinary mortal would have more vigor than him at this moment. His Qi was almost nonexistent, and his muscles had been reduced to mere remnants of flesh.

  He attempted another step.

  This time, the pain was sharper. His bare feet against the cold ground made him feel like a stranger in his own body.

  The old woman wanted to step forward, but he raised his hand slightly, stopping her in her tracks.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  — No need.

  His voice was low but firm.

  He did not want help. He did not want pity.

  The old servant, still in shock at seeing him standing, slowly regained her composure. She watched Feng Lin, her eyes filled with concern but also relief.

  — Feng Lin... you are really standing... Her voice trembled slightly as she approached cautiously, as if afraid to break this fragile moment.

  Feng Lin looked at her without emotion, his eyes fixed on the ground as if trying to understand the world around him. He felt the discomfort of a body that betrayed him with every movement.

  — Tell me, he said in a weary voice, how many years have I spent in this state? How many years have I been asleep?

  He pretended not to know. He was perfectly aware of how long he had been unconscious, but he chose to ask the question.

  Not out of curiosity, but to test the old woman, to observe her reactions.

  The old servant hesitated, her face further etched by the weight of years. She placed a trembling hand over her heart, searching for the words.

  — You... you have been in a coma for fifteen long years, Master. The poison... Her voice faded for a moment, as if she struggled to recall the memory.

  — We thought... you would never return.

  A heavy silence settled between them. Feng Lin observed the old servant with calculated coldness, his eyes shining with a hidden glint. He was not interested in the pain or regrets of those around him, but he had clearly noted the fear in her eyes.

  Feng Lin, still leaning against the wall, slowly straightened himself. His cold, piercing gaze fell upon the old servant.

  — And the clan? he asked in a calm, almost emotionless voice. What is its state today?

  The old servant lowered her eyes, her face marked by deep sadness. She knew the news she was about to deliver would bring no comfort.

  — The clan... She hesitated for a moment, as if gathering her courage. The clan is still in the same state. Nothing has changed. In fact, things have only gotten worse.

  She sighed, visibly burdened.

  — It has been over five hundred years now since the clan has been in decline. The wealth is gone, the reputation is tarnished. There is no external support left.

  Feng Lin clenched his fists, a smoldering anger burning in his gaze. This body, though sick and poisoned, had potential. Before his betrayal, before his fall, he had been a prodigy, an heir destined for greatness.

  He knew that this body, in its youth, could have reached great heights. The talent was there, beneath the surface, before the poison ravaged it. He should have been one of the best, one of the strongest. But instead... he had ended up in a miserable body, dragged through the mud, at the bottom of the social ladder.

  — I reincarnated just to fall this low? he murmured, his voice filled with rage. This body was supposed to be the start of a new ascent, not the end of an old one. How could I have fallen so far?

  He turned his gaze, growing colder, toward the old servant. She knew he was referring to his own body, to his degraded state.

  Yet, he expected no pity.