Cold. Freezing stone bit relentlessly into my bare, unprotected back, sending sharp jolts of physical agony through my newly formed, highly sensitive nerves. Shivering violently, my tiny, newly formed lungs burned with every agonizing gasp of the icy, damp air filling this godforsaken room. Screaming was my first instinct, but only a wet, pathetic gurgle escaped my lips, sounding more like a dying animal than a human infant. Limbs felt like heavy, uncooperative sacks of wet sand, flailing uselessly in the freezing gloom of this subterranean dungeon. Darkness pressed down from all sides of the chamber, thick with the heavy stench of ancient mildew, stagnant water, and dried iron blood. Trying to raise my hands to block out the biting chill proved completely impossible with my nonexistent motor skills. Reincarnation, it seemed, was not the grand, peaceful transition the ancient texts promised to those who achieved spiritual transcendence. Instead, I had been ripped from my peaceful death as an immortal physician and stuffed into this fragile, pathetic vessel. Memories of my past life flashed behind my eyelids—the stinging heat of betrayal, the cold sneers of the family who discarded me once my cultivation stalled, and the bitter taste of poison. History was already repeating itself in this new, unforgiving world where power was the only currency that mattered. Footsteps echoed against the wet basalt floor, slow, heavy, and deliberate. Each loud click of leather against the damp stone vibrated through my tiny skull like a physical hammer blow. Sudden, suffocating pressure filled the room, making it hard to draw even a single shallow breath as the gravity in the room seemed to double. Above me, a figure materialized from the gloom, blotting out the faint, flickering yellow light of the distant torches. Sharp, angular features carved from cold basalt defined his face, dominated by eyes of frozen, pitiless obsidian. Patriarch Li Shen stood there, looking down at me with the detached interest of a butcher examining a piece of meat on the slab. Residual memories from this infant body's brief moments of consciousness flickered in my mind, confirming his identity. He was the undisputed master of the Li cultivation clan, a man who viewed his own bloodline as nothing more than raw materials for his own ascension. Heavy, suffocating silence stretched between us as he assessed my tiny, shivering form. No comfort would come from this man, nor would any fatherly warmth ever touch his frozen heart. Drawing a long, pitted black iron blade from his waist, he let the dark metal hum with a faint, ominous vibration that shook the very air. Metal gleamed under the dim, flickering torchlight, catching the reflection of his cold, unblinking eyes. Lowering the flat of the cold blade, he pinned me directly to the freezing stone table, the weight pressing down on my fragile ribs. Panic flared in my chest, my tiny heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird desperate to escape its cage. "These meridians are completely dormant," Li Shen rumbled, his voice scraping against the stone walls like grinding tectonic plates. Fear spiked through my veins, cold as the frost forming on the stone beneath me. Everyone knew what happened to useless children in the Li clan. Weakness was a capital offense here, a sin that could not be forgiven under any circumstances. If I didn't prove my worth in the next few seconds, this black iron blade would pierce my heart and end my second life before it even began. Desperately, I activated my Apothecary's Heart. This unique spiritual trait was the only piece of my past life that had crossed the threshold of death with me, a divine gift of perception. Spiritual vision shifted instantly, expanding beyond the physical world into the realm of energy, veins, and flowing spirit. Tiny, invisible threads of golden light extended from my chest, bridging the gap between my body and the cold iron blade. They crawled up the cold metal, reaching past the hilt and sinking deep into Li Shen's calloused palm. Instantly, his internal landscape laid bare before my mind, a map of absolute ruin and decay. A chaotic, rotting mess of fractured energy channels met my spiritual awareness, glowing with a sickly, dark-purple hue. Deep-seated poison, dark and corrosive, was eating away at his core, threatening to collapse his entire cultivation base within a matter of months. He was dying, and he knew it. This powerful Patriarch was a hollow shell, desperately searching for a miracle to purge the toxic rot from his system. A high-tier fire-element pulse from a pure, untainted source was the only thing that could burn away this specific poison and save his life. "Such a waste of resources," Li Shen muttered, his jaw clenching as he rotated the blade, pressing the sharp tip directly against my sternum. Sharp steel bit into my soft skin, drawing a thin line of warm, red blood. Death stared me in the face, forcing me to make a terrifying choice. Doing nothing meant dying, but acting meant destroying my own physical foundation before it had even begun to form. Focusing every shred of my reincarnated soul, I targeted my own pristine, dormant baby pathways. Rupturing them was the only way to generate the massive burst of energy I needed to mimic a genius pulse. I gathered my latent soul force and slammed it directly into my own fragile meridians. Pain, absolute and blinding, shattered my mind into a thousand pieces. This tiny body convulsed on the stone table, but I forced my mouth shut to prevent a scream of agony from escaping. Screaming would betray my intelligence, showing a level of self-awareness no newborn should possess. Directing the chaotic, bleeding torrent of my own lifeforce, I forced the energy to vibrate at a high, rhythmic frequency. Crimson light flared brightly beneath my translucent baby skin, illuminating the dark stone walls. Intense heat radiated outward, instantly warming the freezing stone chamber. Sudden movement stopped the downward pressure of the blade. Li Shen froze, his dark eyes widening in sheer disbelief as the sudden wave of thermal energy washed over his hands. "What is this?" he whispered, his voice cracking with a sudden, desperate hunger. Internal bleeding threatened to choke me, but I held the illusion steady. I forced my newly ruptured pathways to pump the simulated fire-element pulse in a steady, powerful rhythm. His grip on the hilt loosened slightly, though he did not fully withdraw the weapon. He stared down at me, searching my chubby, flushed face for any sign of anomalies. Play the mindless infant, I screamed at myself through the pain. Do not let him see the immortal physician behind these eyes. Gurgling softly, I forced my tiny lips to curve into a bubbly, mindless smile. I blinked my wide, watery eyes up at him, flailing my stubby arms as if reaching for his cold face. Cruelty flickered in his eyes, slowly giving way to a calculating, predatory satisfaction. He didn't see a daughter; he saw his salvation, a perfect human pill waiting to be harvested. "A high-tier fire pulse," he murmured, his fingers trembling as he touched my burning forehead. "This is a perfect catalyst to cleanse my core." Success felt like ashes in my mouth. This gamble had worked, but I had severely damaged my own spiritual foundation to survive. Healing these ruptured pathways in secret would take months of careful manipulation. Terror lingered, cold and heavy, despite the fire burning in my veins. I was trapped in a nest of vipers, and my only defense was to play the innocent victim until I was strong enough to crush them. Slowly, Li Shen began to pull the heavy black iron blade away from my chest. Crimson light faded from my skin as I let the forced energy subside, gasping weakly for breath. As Li Shen withdraws his blade, a drop of his corrupted, dark-purple spiritual blood falls directly onto Bao's forehead, burning her skin and revealing a hidden, parasitic seal glowing beneath her flesh.

Chapter 1: A Cradle of Cold Steel