Darkness.
Cold. Heavy. Crushing.
Then—light.
Ryan's eyes flew open, his breath ragged, lungs clawing for air as if he'd been underwater for hours. A sharp sting coursed through his chest. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar—wooden beams carved with strange, curling symbols. The air smelled faintly of incense and medicinal herbs.
His fingers twitched. He groaned.
"Jane…" he croaked, voice hoarse and dry. "Maggi… Eleanor…"
Nothing. No alarms. No rumble of collapsing stone or beasts.
Only silence.
Panic surged in his gut. He tried to sit up, but his body screamed in protest. Every muscle felt torn. His ribs felt cracked, his limbs heavy, bandaged, bruised.
The body is unfamiliar.
But the pain was real.
Shit… this hurts.
Footsteps echoed softly outside the room.
And then—she stepped in.
A tall woman, regal and composed, glided into the chamber. Her presence filled the space with an almost oppressive aura. Long black hair flowed down her back like silk, except for a distinct silver streak at her left temple. Her skin was pale—almost too perfect—porcelain smooth, untouched by time or sunlight. Her black eyes were cold, deep, and unreadable. She wore a dark robe embroidered with intricate silver runes, and around her neck, a silver pendant glinted softly under the dim lantern light.
She didn't speak. She didn't need to.
Ryan froze.
"…Mom?"
His voice was barely a whisper.
The resemblance was undeniable—everything from her sharp jawline to her high cheekbones. She looked exactly like Lyara Ashworth—his mother from Earth.
But… different.
More elegant. More ancient and dangerous.
As the thoughts raced through his mind.
She crossed the room in three swift steps, kneeling beside the bed.
"Ryan, you're awake," she breathed, and for the first time in either of his lives, he heard real fear in that voice as she brushed damp strands of hair from his forehead.
Ryan's mind was in chaos…
Just as Ryan was going to say something.
Ryan felt as if he was struck by lightning, completely dumbfounded as though pressure was being applied to his acupuncture points.
They weren't his. Not originally. But they belonged to the boy whose body he now occupied.
Ryan Ashworth, sixteen years old.
A prodigy among the younger generation in the Stone Veil Town.
First stage of the Dantian Formation Realm.
Stone Veil Town, Varkhan Family's disciple— though he bore another surname.
His mother—Lyara Ashworth, the second elder of the family—feared and respected in equal measure. Cold, beautiful, untouchable. A woman who never bowed to the patriarch or his politics.
His father...in his memories, there was no such person to begin with.
In the process of merging with this segment of foreign memories, Ryan found the reason why the original owner of the body was severely injured and bedridden.
This morning, the fifth elder's youngest son—Kelric Varkhan, aged twenty—had deliberately insulted Ryan's mother, calling her vile, despicable names: "whore" and "bitch."
Unable to bear the insult to the woman he loved more than anything, Ryan had challenged Kelric to a duel in a fit of rage.
But how could Ryan, in the first stage of the Dantian Formation Realm, possibly defeat Kelric, who stood in the second stage?
He couldn't.
He had been immediately severely injured and left on the verge of death.
Just as Ryan of this body inhaled his last breath of air, Ryan from Earth took over this Ryan's entire being... including his body and memories.
After completely merging with the foreign memories, Ryan exhaled shakily.
So that's how I got here.
"Madam, the Patriarch sent some medicine over."
A voice sounded from the side of his ear, making Ryan turn his head to look up towards the source of the voice.
A servant girl hurriedly entered the room and handed over the small and exquisite case in her hands to Lyara Ashworth.
A medicinal fragrance drifted in the air immediately as the small case was opened.
Ryan, come; take this medicinal pill. Mother will treat your injuries."
Lyara took out a dark-looking medicinal pill from the case and guided it to the front of Ryan's mouth.
Taking a deep breath, Ryan opened his mouth and swallowed the pill.
The pill dissolved upon entering his mouth and turned into a warm current as it entered his body.
Subsequently, Ryan noticed that Lyara had placed her hand on his chest...
A stream of ice-cold current passed into his body, dissolving the warm current from the pill and treating his injuries.
An hour later, Lyara finished up.
Ryan noticed that half of the aching pain in his body had disappeared, lacking any strain whatsoever.
He was startled.
Was what he took just now some sort of elixir of life??
Meanwhile, Ryan noticed that Lyara's face was pale, as beads of cold sweat dripped from her forehead. She expended too much Origin Energy in treating his injuries.
"Mom, are you alright?"
Ryan's heart felt warm.
His words were gentle—genuine
Lyara gave a faint smile and shook her head. "Mother is fine. I just need to rest for a while."
For the sake of her son, expending this little bit of Origin Energy was nothing.
Half an hour later, the servant girl entered the room and lightly said, "Madam, the Patriarch sent someone to inquire if you would release young master Kelric now? The Patriarch and Fifth Elder are still waiting in the Punishment Hall."
"Release him? Go tell the person the Patriarch sent, that I will deal with this matter myself!"
The gentle and amiable expression on Lyara's face was completely gone, replaced by an icy, cold expression, causing the room to feel as if the temperature had gone down slightly.
Ryan's heart stirred.
Never did he think that this woman, who was as beautiful as a flower, would be so protective...
"Mom, what was that pill you gave me earlier? I feel like my injuries are nearly healed."
Ryan got up from bed, lightly stretching his body.
"Silly child, that was an 'Eighth Grade Vital Rejuvenation Pill'," Lyara lightly smiled.
Eighth Grade Vital Rejuvenation Pill.
Ryan sifted through the foreign memories in his mind...
It turned out that even within Stone Veil Town's Varkhan Family, there were only two of these Eighth Grade Vital Rejuvenation Pills. Now, one had been used on him, a disciple with another surname.
He looked at her again, this time with something deeper than gratitude.
Respect.