Persistent pain and overwhelming weakness were the first sensations that greeted Gù Tiannháo every morning in this new, old body. It was a constant reminder of his precarious situation, a physical fetter that bound him to the identity of the Gu Family's garbage. However, beneath the physical misery, Alex Chen's mind, now firmly anchored in this Xianxia reality, worked with cold clarity.
After the initial shock of reincarnation, he spent the next two days confined to bed, under the pretext of recovering from a "sudden indisposition" - the same indisposition that had probably claimed the life of the original Gù Tiannháo. No one seemed particularly concerned. An elderly, taciturn handmaid named Aunt Liu came three times a day to bring simple meals and strong-smelling herbal remedies, her interactions limited to grunts and empty looks. For her, and probably for most of her at Gu Mansion, he was just a burden, an inconvenient existence that refused to disappear discreetly.
This indifference, although initially disconcerting, became his shield. He allowed him time to process the avalanche of fragmented memories of the ancient Ti?nháo, to begin mapping the complex social web of the Gu Family, and to assess the extent of his own physical weakness without attracting unwanted attention.
The memories of the ancient Tianháo were a well of resentment, fear and humiliation. Years of contemplation on the part of his brothers, Gù Tianyu and Gù Tianfeng, the cold indifference of his father, Patriarch Gù Zhànlóng, and the pitiful or mockery of the servants and other members of the clan had shaped a broken young man, devoid of any self-esteem. He barely left his secluded courtyard, located on the outskirts of the main mansion complex, a silent testament to his marginalized status.
On the third day, feeling a slight improvement - perhaps due to herbal remedies or simply to her own power imposing herself on the fragile body - Ti?nháo decided it was time to explore. Confined to the room, he was blind and deaf to the intricacies of the mansion. I needed information, I needed to understand the ground before I could even think about taking the next step.
With effort, he got out of bed. His legs shook under the minimum weight, and said he was assailed. He took a deep breath, forcing almost non-existent IQ to circulate, more out of mental habit than out of real effect. He looked in a polished bronze mirror hanging from the wall. The face that faced him was young, almost painfully delicate, with large dark eyes that now contained a depth and a caution that did not belong to a sixteen-year-old boy, much less to the old Tianháo. The unhealthy paleness and thinness were evident, but there was an underlying beauty, an inheritance from her late mother that neglect and illness could not completely erase.
He wore the simple silk clothes that were folded over a chair - a basic garment for a young master, but of noticeably inferior quality to the garments he remembered (by the memories of Tiannháo) his brothers wore. Each movement was calculated, slow. He couldn't afford to stumble or show excessive weakness if he met someone.
He opened the heavy wooden door, which was creaked in protest. The fresh morning air, loaded with the scent of pine trees and the moisture of the night before, filled his lungs. He was in a small courtyard, surrounded by high, whitewashed walls. A lonely willow man cried in a corner, his leaves gently brushing against the stone floor. It was a quiet, almost funeral place, a perfect reflection of the former resident's isolation.
He hesitated for a moment on the threshold, his senses sharpened by necessity. The Gu Family complex was vast, a labyrinth of courtyards, corridors, gardens and halls. The memories of Tiannháo provided a basic map, but direct experience was essential. He needed to see with his own eyes, to hear with his own ears.
He went out into the courtyard, his footsteps silent on the stone slabs. The morning sun began to warm the air, but a coldness persisted, emanating not only from the shadow of the walls, but from the very atmosphere of the place. It was the coldness of indifference, of rigid hierarchy, of the constant struggle for power and recognition that permeated every stone of the Gu Mansion.
He walked slowly towards the gate leading out of his secluded courtyard. He kept his head down, imitating the submissive posture that the ancient Tianháo always adopted, but his eyes discreetly swept the surroundings, absorbing every detail. Servants rushed through the outer corridors, their heads down, avoiding eye contact. Some cast fleeting glances toward him, a mixture of curiosity and scorn barely disguised. No one greeted him. Nobody cared.
He remembered the hierarchies. Servants were the base, divided by tasks and antiquity. Above them were the external members of the clan and the administrators. Then came the members of the main lineage, classified by talent and proximity to the Patriarch. His brothers, Tianyu and Tianfeng, were near the top of the younger generation while he... he was at rock bottom, a tolerated anomaly.
As he approached a busier area, a small indoor garden used for basic training by younger disciples or servants with some aptitude heard arrogant voices. His body instinctively intended a Pavlovian reaction inherited from the ancient Tiannháo.
..."completely useless. I heard he got sick again. Maybe this time he finally does a favor to his family and disappears once and for all.
The voice belonged to Gù Wei, a distant cousin, known for his large mouth and for flattering Tianyu and Tianfeng.
Shhh, speak low. What if someone listens? answered another voice, more cautious.
Who? That rubbish? Even if he listened, what could he do? Crying for Aunt Liu? Gù Wei laughed, an unpleasant sound that echoed in the garden.
Tiannháo stopped behind an ornamental mite, hidden from view. His heart beat a little faster, not in fear, but in a cold, calculating anger. He recognized the dynamics. Gù Wei and his companion were the smaller type of vulture that circulated the real predators, pecking at the leftovers and intimidating the even weaker ones. The ancient Tiannháo would have fled or shrunk, but Alex Chen was not the ancient Tiannháo.
He considered his options. Confront them? No way. He could barely stand up, let alone fight. Ignore them and move on? It was the surest path, but also the path of continuous submission. He needed to establish, even subtly, that something had changed.
He waited for them to finish their conversation and walk away a little. Then he emerged from the bush, walking deliberately towards them, still with his head down, but with a steady rhythm that did not show the weakness he felt.
As he passed them, Gù Wei, as expected, tried to block him with a smile of mockery.
Now, if you are not our esteemed Third Young Master. I thought I heard you were on the verge of death. What a pity it has improved.
Tiannháo stopped. Slowly, he raised his head. Instead of the fear or helpless anger that Gù Wei expected, his dark eyes were calm, almost empty, but with a depth that made Wei's smile waver for a moment.
Cousin Wei, Tiannháo's voice was low, somewhat hoarse due to lack of use, but clear. Thank you for your concern for my health. However, I suggest that you focus more on your own cultivation. I have heard that the Green Cloud Sect examination is near. It would be a shame if the Gu Family had another disappointment this year.
The reference was veiled, but clear. Gù Wei had failed miserably in the previous year's exam, becoming a laughing stock for a while. The mention reached a nerve.
Wei's face turned red. You... your worthless garbage! Who do you think it is to talk to me like that?
Tiannháo did not retreat. He just kept his gaze calm, almost analytical. I am Gù Ti?nháo, Third Young Master of the Gu Family. What about you? The simple question carried an unexpected weight. He was not asserting himself arrogantly, but with a simple, almost indifferent fact that undermined Wei's attempt at humiliation.
Before Gù Wei could explode in fury or retaliate physically - something Tiannháo knew he couldn't stand - he continued, his voice still low. Excuse me, cousin. I have matters to deal with. And with a deliberate slowness that was almost an insult, he circumvented Gù Wei and continued on his way, leaving his older cousin stunned and furious, but strangely hesitant to attack.
Tiannháo did not look back. His heart was hammering against his ribs, adrenaline momentarily masking his weakness. It was a calculated risk. He showed no physical strength, but an unexpected mental strength, a refusal to play the game of humiliation in the usual way. He had used Wei's own status and his past failure against him, a simple but effective psychological tactic in that context.
He knew that this would not solve his problems. Gù Wei would probably hold a grudge. But he had planted a seed of doubt. He had shown that small audience of two that the "garbage" might not be so predictable anymore.
He continued his exploration, moving through the areas allowed to him, observing the training sites, the library (whose access was probably restricted to him), the meeting halls at a distance. Every detail was stored, analyzed. Hostility was palpable, indifference was a wall, and the need for strength was overwhelming.
He returned to his secluded courtyard before noon, exhausted, but with a clearer mind. The exploration confirmed his worst suspicions about his status and the attitude of the family. It also reinforced the urgency of his situation. He needed to fix that body. I needed to find a way to cultivate, really. Without it, his intelligence and cunning could only take him to a certain extent.
He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the throbbing pain in the blocked meridians. They were like dry rivers full of debris. The energy of the world, the Qi, was all around him, abundant, but his body could not absorb it or use it efficiently. It was a flesh-and-blood prison.
He closed his eyes, determination hardening in his chest. That meeting with Gù Wei was just the beginning. There would be more challenges, more dangers. He needed an advantage, an asset. Something that could level the playing field, or rather that could catapult it beyond all of them.
His mind scoured the confused memories of the ancient Tianháo, searching for anything, any clue, any forgotten object that might have a hidden value. His mother... she had come from somewhere unknown... had she given him anything before he died?
A nebulous image emerged. A small, dark, smooth object that he had stored in an old box along with other worthless trinkets from his childhood. The ancient Tiannháo considered him only a strange stone, a memory of a mother whose face he could barely remember.
a strange stone. In a Xianxia world, strange stones were sometimes more than they looked like.
A new focus has emerged in his eyes. He stood up, ignoring the pain, and began to search the modest room, looking for an old, forgotten box. Maybe, just maybe, his luck was about to change.