Cold darkness pressed against his senses.
For a brief moment, there was nothing—no sound, no light, no awareness of where he was or even who he was.
Then pain arrived.
A violent burning sensation spread through his entire body as though molten metal had been poured directly into his veins. His chest tightened painfully, each heartbeat heavy and irregular, while his throat felt as though invisible hands were crushing it shut.
His eyes snapped open.
Air entered his lungs in shallow, ragged breaths that barely eased the suffocating pressure. His body trembled uncontrollably as nausea twisted his stomach, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.
It felt wrong.
Not ordinary pain.
Not illness.
This felt like death itself clawing through his body.
His blurred vision struggled to focus while he forced himself upright. The room around him spun violently before gradually settling into view.
Silk curtains swayed lightly near an open window. Candlelight flickered against polished walls engraved with intricate patterns. A faint scent of sandalwood incense lingered in the air.
Luxurious.
Ancient.
Completely unfamiliar.
"…Where am I?"
Even speaking caused pain. His voice sounded hoarse and weak, barely louder than a whisper.
Before he could gather his thoughts, something suddenly crashed into his mind.
Memories.
Not his own.
The flood of information hit him without warning, overwhelming his senses so violently that he nearly collapsed back onto the bed.
A vast imperial palace.
Servants kneeling in endless rows.
Cultivators soaring across the skies.
Political schemes hidden beneath smiles and formal greetings.
A name emerged from the chaos.
Li Xuan.
Fourth Prince of the Great Li Empire.
His breathing slowed slightly as realization settled into his mind.
He had not survived.
He had died.
And somehow, he had awakened inside another person's body.
A world of cultivation.
Transmigration.
The thought should have sounded absurd, impossible even, yet the memories flooding through his mind felt too real to deny.
He closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to sort through the fragments of memory.
The owner of this body was indeed Li Xuan, the Fourth Prince of the Great Li Empire.
Then suddenly—
More memories surfaced.
Sharper this time.
A quiet evening.
Soft candlelight.
A servant pouring wine.
A trusting smile.
Then pain.
The exact same burning agony currently tearing through his body.
His pupils contracted.
"…Poison."
The word left his mouth quietly.
Instinctively, his gaze shifted toward the table beside the bed.
A delicate jade cup rested there, half-empty beneath the dim candlelight.
The moment he saw it, everything became clear.
This body had already died once.
The original Fourth Prince had been poisoned.
And if not for his arrival—
this corpse would already be cold.
A faint bitter smile appeared on his lips.
"So the Fourth Prince is dead already."
The room fell silent again.
Only his uneven breathing remained.
As the inherited memories gradually settled, a clearer understanding of Li Xuan's life began to form.
The Fourth Prince had been famous throughout the empire for his talent. Despite being only twenty years old, he had already stepped into the Cave Manor realm, far surpassing many cultivators of his generation.
A true genius.
But unlike the other princes, Li Xuan had never shown interest in competing for the throne.
He avoided court politics whenever possible and rarely involved himself in factional struggles. While the imperial court was filled with scheming nobles and ambitious princes fighting for influence, the Fourth Prince remained distant from all of it.
Too distant.
His mother had died when he was eight years old, leaving him without protection inside the palace. Without the support of a powerful maternal clan, he had grown up isolated from the center of power.
And yet despite everything—
he remained kind.
He trusted people too easily.
He treated servants well.
He avoided unnecessary conflict.
Inside a royal palace, those qualities were not virtues.
They were weaknesses.
"…Idiot."
The word escaped his lips naturally.
This world was built on power.
Cultivators fought against heaven itself to survive. Empires rose through conquest and collapsed through betrayal. Within the imperial family, every prince viewed the throne as something worth killing for.
And Li Xuan had tried to live kindly in the middle of that environment.
How could someone like that survive?
Another sharp wave of pain spread through his meridians, interrupting his thoughts.
The poison was still inside him.
It had not finished its work.
His fingers tightened against the bedsheets as he focused inward.
The original owner of this body had already died from the poison, but the remaining toxins still lingered throughout his veins and organs.
If he did nothing, he would simply die again.
A dry laugh escaped his throat.
"So I came back to life just to face death again?"
The irony almost amused him.
In his previous life, survival had depended on caution and ruthless decisions. He had learned long ago that trusting others too easily only led to failure.
Mercy was a luxury.
Hesitation was fatal.
He had survived because he understood that better than anyone else.
And now fate had placed him into the body of a prince who died precisely because he lacked that understanding.
"What a waste," he muttered quietly.
Suppressing the pain coursing through his body, he slowly forced himself out of bed.
The moment his feet touched the cold floor, weakness nearly caused him to collapse, but he steadied himself against the nearby table.
His eyes fell once more upon the jade cup.
At the untouched wine still resting inside it.
At the luxurious chamber surrounding him.
At the life that had ended here only moments ago.
"No one killed him because he lacked talent," he said softly.
The Fourth Prince had been gifted.
Strong.
Respected.
But talent alone meant nothing inside the palace.
"He died because he was too kind."
Silence lingered heavily in the room.
Then his expression gradually changed.
The confusion disappeared from his eyes.
The trembling in his hands stopped.
Something colder replaced it.
Something sharper.
"This life will be different."
His voice remained calm, almost emotionless.
"I won't make the same mistakes."
Outside the chamber, faint footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Slow.
Careful.
Someone was approaching.
Li Xuan lifted his gaze toward the closed doors, and a faint smile formed on his lips—not warm, not gentle, but calm in a way that carried hidden danger.
Whoever stood outside likely believed the Fourth Prince was still the same man as before.
Kind.
Trusting.
Easy to manipulate.
They were already too late.
"Come in," he said quietly.
"I'm awake."