The night after learning Rudra's name, I didn't sleep.
I sat alone in Ward 707 long after Riya had fallen asleep beside Mother's bed and Dr Liang had quietly left.
The rain outside had stopped.
The city lights reflected softly against the hospital window, but my attention remained fixed on only one thing—
the pendant in my hand.
Silver.
Ancient.
Warm.
For years, it had been nothing more than the last gift from Grandfather.
A strange old keepsake I wore because I couldn't bear to lose one more piece of family.
Now I knew better.
This pendant was not a memory.
It was an inheritance.
A key.
A weapon.
Maybe both.
I turned it slowly in my fingers.
The engraved symbols on its surface glowed faintly under the dim hospital light.
Not bright enough for ordinary eyes to notice.
But with the Omniscient Origin Eyes, every line looked alive.
Breathing.
Waiting.
I whispered into the silence,
"What exactly are you?"
As if answering me, the pendant pulsed.
Once.
Warmth spread through my palm and travelled up my arm like liquid fire.
The golden rings in my eyes activated automatically.
The world blurred.
No—
It deepened.
The hospital room faded into layers of golden light.
The pendant floated from my hand and hovered in front of me.
Ancient symbols rose into the air around it like stars circling a sun.
Then the voice returned.
The same ancient voice from the awakening.
Timeless.
Heavy.
Absolute.
"Origin lineage recognised."
I stood still.
No fear now.
Only focus.
The voice continued.
"Current vessel status: incomplete."
I frowned.
Incomplete?
The symbols around me spun faster.
"Body weak. Spiritual pathways blocked. Mortal vessel unstable."
That sounded insulting.
And accurate.
Years of overwork, stress, and surviving on coffee and instant noodles were apparently not ideal for becoming some mythical chosen heir.
I crossed my arms.
"So what now?"
The answer came instantly.
"Cultivation required."
The word hung in the air.
Cultivation.
I had expected it.
In stories, power always came with cultivation.
Breathing techniques.
Energy refinement.
Breaking human limits.
But hearing it here—
inside a hospital room, beside the sleeping bodies of my family—
made it feel real.
Dangerously real.
The voice continued.
"Without cultivation, the eyes will destroy the vessel."
My expression changed.
"What?"
The warmth behind my eyes suddenly turned painful.
A reminder.
A warning.
So that was the price.
The Omniscient Origin Eyes weren't a gift.
They were a burden my body could barely survive.
If I stayed weak—
They would eventually kill me.
Perfect.
Exactly the kind of luck I expected.
I sighed.
"Fine. Then teach me."
For a moment, silence.
Then—
light.
A flood of information exploded into my mind.
My knees nearly gave out.
Words.
Symbols.
Pathways.
Breathing patterns.
Ancient diagrams of the human body.
Meridians.
Energy nodes.
Spiritual circulation.
It was too much.
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to endure it.
At the centre of it all, one title burnt brighter than everything else.
Heavenly Origin Breathing Art
The first cultivation method of the Origin Lineage.
I could somehow understand it instinctively.
This technique wasn't about force.
It was about balance.
Breathing heaven into the body.
Refining chaos into order.
Using spiritual energy to strengthen flesh, mind, and soul.
Slowly transforming a mortal body into something capable of carrying divine power.
And apparently—
Without it, I would eventually go blind, insane, or dead.
Great.
Very motivating.
The voice spoke one final time.
"First cultivation must begin before sunrise."
"Failure increases ocular rejection risk."
Then everything vanished.
The hospital room returned.
I was standing exactly where I had been.
Pendant in hand.
Heart racing.
And somehow—
I now knew how to cultivate.
I stared at the clock.
3:17 AM.
Before sunrise.
No pressure.
I looked toward my family.
Five sleeping figures.
Five reasons I could not afford failure.
And Riya.
Curled up in the chair beside Mother's bed, still holding her hand even in sleep.
She trusted me.
They all did.
Even unconscious, somehow, I felt they did.
That settled it.
I stood.
Quietly.
Carefully.
I grabbed my jacket and headed for the rooftop.
If I were going to begin something that could either save my family or kill me—
I preferred the open sky.
The hospital rooftop was silent.
Cold wind moved across the space.
The city stretched endlessly beyond the edge, glowing beneath the fading darkness of night.
For the first time in years, I stood still.
No work calls.
No deliveries.
No hospital bills.
Just me.
And whatever came next.
I sat cross-legged near the rooftop wall.
The pendant rested in my palm.
I closed my eyes.
And followed the first instruction.
Breathe.
Slowly.
Deeply.
Not like normal breathing.
This was deliberate.
Controlled.
Pulling air not only into the lungs but also through the body itself.
At first, nothing happened.
Just silence.
Cold air.
Frustration.
Then—
Something shifted.
A warmth entered my chest.
Faint.
Tiny.
Like the first spark of fire in winter.
I focused.
The warmth grew.
It moved through invisible pathways I had never known existed.
Meridians.
The technique guided it naturally.
Through the chest.
Down the arms.
Across the spine.
Into the abdomen.
The lower dantian.
The spiritual core.
The warmth settled there.
And suddenly—
pain.
Sharp.
Violent.
I gasped.
It felt like my body was being torn apart from the inside.
Every blocked pathway resisted.
Years of neglect.
A completely mortal body trying to force open something ancient.
Sweat poured down my neck.
I nearly stopped.
Then I remembered Father's face.
Mother's hands.
Riya's voice asking if they were in danger.
And Rudra.
Smiling.
Waiting.
No.
I pushed harder.
The warmth became fire.
The fire became light.
Something inside me cracked.
Not bones.
Something deeper.
A seal.
A blockage.
Broken.
I opened my eyes.
The sunrise had begun.
Golden light stretched across the city skyline.
And for the first time—
I could feel it.
Spiritual energy.
Thin currents moving through the world like invisible rivers.
In the wind.
In the sunlight.
In the earth beneath the building.
Alive.
Everywhere.
The golden rings in my eyes glowed brighter.
The pendant pulsed.
A whisper echoed in my mind.
"First realm achieved."
"Mortal Realm — First Layer."
I sat there breathing heavily.
Tired.
Sweating.
But smiling.
For the first time since the accident—
I had taken a step forward.
Not surviving.
Not enduring.
Advancing.
Toward strength.
Towards answers.
Toward war.
A voice behind me broke the silence.
"Well…"
Smooth.
Familiar.
Dangerously amused.
I turned.
Standing near the rooftop door, leaning casually against the frame as she had always belonged there—
was the crimson woman.
Red dress.
Crimson eyes.
That same beautiful, dangerous smile.
She looked me up and down once.
Then smirked.
"My future husband learns fast."
I stared at her.
Still exhausted.
Still sweating.
Still trying to process my first successful cultivation breakthrough.
And somehow—
This woman was still the most dangerous thing in front of me.
I sighed.
"This again?"
She laughed.
Softly.
Like fire learning how to sing.
And just like that—
My peaceful sunrise was over.