The Immortal Path Is Crowded

Consciousness returned in a strange way. It wasn’t a sudden awakening, but something more diffuse—like slowly emerging from the depths of a lake. Jin first felt the weight of his own body, then the silence, and finally a sharp, bitter scent that felt vaguely familiar: medicinal herbs.

He opened his eyes.

The light was dim, filtered through pale fabric curtains. For a brief second he tried to sit up on reflex, but his body didn’t respond. There was no immediate pain—only absolute resistance, as if every muscle had decided to ignore him entirely.

“...?”

Confusion hit him head-on. He tried to move his fingers. Nothing. He tried to turn his neck. Impossible.

A chill ran down his spine as he forced his gaze downward and finally saw it.

His torso, arms, and even part of his neck were covered in thin acupuncture needles, perfectly aligned and embedded at precise points. Some vibrated faintly, others were completely still, as if they were part of some strange ritual.

Jin’s mind went blank. Am I… alive?

He was lying on a polished wooden bed covered with clean cloth. Around him the room was simple but orderly: shelves lined with ceramic jars, bundles of drying herbs, jade containers with dark residue settled at the bottom. The air was saturated with that dense medicinal smell that seeps into your lungs and refuses to let go.

He tried to gather his memories: the platform, the external elder, Yan Mei, the woman… Han Yiling. After that, there was nothing.

A slow, clumsy thought crossed his mind. …I think I really overdid it this time.

A soft voice broke the silence.

“I see you’re finally awake.”

The words came with the faint rustle of fabric as one of the curtains surrounding the bed was carefully drawn aside, letting in a little more light and revealing the mature woman standing there.

Han Yiling.

She approached with calm steps, her robe immaculate, carrying the serene air of someone accustomed to having life and death decided beneath her hands. When she saw Jin’s face—eyes wide open, expression stiff from being unable to move even a single muscle—she paused briefly.

Then she elegantly covered her mouth and a faint smile curved her lips.

“...What an interesting expression,” she commented with amusement. “Relax. It’s not permanent.”

Jin wanted to protest. He wanted to say don’t look at me like that, explain what was happening, ask why he couldn’t move. But all he could do was keep staring at her with that helpless, awkward expression that only made things worse.

Han Yiling stepped closer to the bed.

“You’re in one of my personal medical halls,” she explained calmly. “A place very few ‘external’ disciples have the ‘honor’ of reaching.”

She leaned slightly and examined the needles embedded in his body as if inspecting a carefully completed piece of work.

“You were treated personally by me,” she added. “Considering the state you were in when you arrived… it was the least I could do.”

Her gaze slid to Jin’s injured arm, now covered with several additional needles.

“Your meridians were a complete mess,” she continued casually. “Especially in that arm. You used your own Qi in a rather… creative way. And very recklessly.”

Her smile didn’t fade.

“So for now, stay still,” she said gently, her tone leaving no room for argument. “If you try to move before it’s time, all you’ll accomplish is fainting again.”

Jin listened in enforced silence, his mind spinning at full speed. Personal medical hall…? Treated by a Golden Core cultivator…?

His thoughts, however, were anything but calm.

This… what kind of script is this?

One moment he had been fighting on a platform like in some cheap cultivation novel. The next, a Golden Core elder abducted him midair. Then a dangerous woman with a gentle smile knocked him unconscious. Now he had woken up immobilized, covered in needles, inside a personal medical hall.

Too many important characters. Too many strange flags. The pacing is completely messed up…

If this were a story, Jin wouldn’t even know whether he was inside a growth arc, a sect conspiracy plot… or one where the protagonist was about to be used as a chess piece.

Before he could continue mentally complaining about the invisible author of his life, hurried footsteps echoed outside.

The curtain was pulled open abruptly.

“So you’re finally awake!”

Yan Mei stepped inside with a deep frown, arms crossed and expression clearly irritated. Her gaze fell on Jin and immediately hardened.

“Do you have any idea how much you scared us?” she scolded without hesitation. “Passing out like that without warning—”

She stepped closer to the bed and looked him up and down with a critical eye.

“If you’re a man, you should’ve held on a bit longer,” she added mercilessly. “You tensed up like an enraged bull and then—bam—down you went.”

Jin could only stare at her, completely unmoving, wearing an expression of absolute helplessness.

It’s not like I wanted to pass out… I literally couldn’t anymore!

Yan Mei clicked her tongue.

“And now look at you,” she continued. “Full of holes and unable to move. Do you know how much extra work you caused us?”

While she continued scolding him without pause, Han Yiling simply watched from the side of the hall. She rested one hand lightly on the edge of a nearby table, her eyes shining with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, as if she were watching a rather entertaining play.

The slight curve of her lips made one thing clear: she found the interaction very interesting.

Han Yiling gently raised a hand. It wasn’t a harsh or authoritative gesture, but it was enough.

“Yan Mei,” she said lightly, still wearing that gentle smile. “Let him breathe a little.”

Yan Mei stopped mid-scolding. She clicked her tongue again, clearly dissatisfied, but stepped back anyway.

“Hmph… Only because Sister Han Yiling says so.”

Han Yiling turned back toward Jin and approached the bed with unhurried steps, the soft scent of medicinal herbs growing stronger around her.

“Don’t make that face,” she said with a low, elegant laugh. “You’re not being tortured.”

Jin stared at her wide-eyed, immobilized and covered in needles, which made that statement… rather unconvincing.

She delicately gestured toward his body.

“Those needles are connected to the spiritual matrix of this medical hall,” she explained. “They continuously extract healing Qi and inject it into your meridians in a controlled manner. They don’t just repair muscles and bones… they also stabilize internal damage and overstressed meridians.”

Jin blinked slowly. Constant… Qi?

“Even so,” Han Yiling continued, her tone turning slightly more serious, “what you did was excessive. You forced layers of Qi your body still cannot sustain. Even with this treatment, you’ll need at least a full month to recover completely.”

A month.

Jin’s mind froze for an instant before reacting with surprise that nearly showed in his eyes.

Only one month…?

To be honest, he had expected something far worse. He had assumed his arm would be useless for months, that his meridians would remain unstable, that his cultivation would spiral into chaos for the entire year. He had even mentally prepared himself to fall irreparably behind while everyone else advanced.

A month… that’s ridiculously short.

A wave of silent relief washed over him.

Han Yiling tilted her head slightly while observing his expression.

“I can see you understand now,” she said with a faint smile. “You’re lucky… and you have a body far more resilient than what should be normal for your level.”

Yan Mei snorted from the side.

“Lucky, my foot. If it weren’t for all this, I’d be crying over losing half a year of cultivation.”

Jin could only think one thing while lying there motionless and full of needles.

…This plot is definitely getting weird.

Han Yiling watched him for a few more seconds before gently shaking her head.

“Don’t worry so much,” she said calmly. “You’ll understand everything later. Right now, thinking too much won’t do you any good.”

She straightened gracefully and took a step back.

“The rest of the treatment will be handled by the medical hall’s matrix and the assisting disciples. As long as you don’t try to move like some tragic hero, you should be fine.”

Jin wanted to reply, but his body remained about as cooperative as a statue.

Han Yiling smiled with clear amusement and turned to leave. However, just before exiting, she paused and glanced over her shoulder at Yan Mei.

“Oh, Yan Mei… when he recovers in a month, don’t be so hard on him.”

Yan Mei frowned in surprise.

Han Yiling tilted her head and smiled mischievously.

“He has quite a cute face. It would be a shame to always see it injured.”

Before Yan Mei could respond, Han Yiling let out a delicate laugh and left the hall as if she hadn’t said anything unusual.

The curtains closed behind her and silence filled the room once more.

Yan Mei stood still for a few seconds before slowly turning her head toward Jin.

Jin, immobilized, could only stare back.

…This can’t be good.

Yan Mei remained beside the bed for a moment, arms crossed and brow furrowed. Her expression shifted from irritation to something more complicated before she finally puffed her cheeks slightly in annoyance.

“Hmph…”

Jin tried to speak. Tried anything—a harder blink, the slightest movement of his fingers, a pleading look. Nothing worked.

Yan Mei glanced at him sideways, clearly aware he had questions, and deliberately ignored them.

“Rest,” she said curtly. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

She turned and walked toward the exit of the medical hall. Just before pulling the curtain aside, she paused for a moment and clicked her tongue.

“Seriously… what a troublesome guy.”

Then she left.

The curtains closed softly, leaving Jin completely alone.

The scent of medicinal herbs grew stronger as the faint hum of the medical matrix filled the air. Healing Qi continued flowing through his body via the needles, cold and steady.

Jin stared at the ceiling without moving.

“He has a cute face that would be a shame to see injured”…?

Han Yiling’s words echoed in his mind with unsettling clarity.

Why did that sound more like a warning than a joke…?

He didn’t know what kind of plot was unfolding around him.

But one thing was clear.

For the first time since arriving in this world… he was genuinely worried.