The Saiyan In The Cultivation World.

I didn't know what had happened, but when I opened my eyes, I found myself in my bed. The memory of that pain hit me like a tidal wave, and my body began trembling uncontrollably. I couldn't stay still no matter how much I tried.

"I found you passed out in the bath. Are you alright?" Lan Mei's voice broke through the fog of my thoughts, soft and calm as always.

I turned my head and glared at her. "Don't act like you weren't there."

Her eyes widened in surprise for a moment, clearly not expecting me to realize. She hesitated but didn't deny it. Instead, she stayed silent, as if gauging how much I truly knew.

I sighed and continued, my voice sharp with frustration. "I don't care about the secrets you're hiding but stop treating me like a child. Don't baby me."

Lan Mei tilted her head, her innocent expression betraying a mischievous glint. "Should I have brought you to bed when you fainted? I didn't mean to 'baby' you?"

My face darkened, her teasing clearly hitting its mark. She ignored my irritation and gently helped me to sit up. When I tried to stand, my legs gave out instantly, and I collapsed to the ground. My body still hadn't recovered from the intense strain of the cultivation process.

Lan Mei's amused expression softened as she picked me up and placed me in a wheelchair she had apparently prepared in advance.

"Listen closely," she said, her tone more serious now. "That cultivation art was left behind by your mother, and you're only the second person in history to cultivate it. The first was your father." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "This process will temper not just your body, but also your mind and soul. Pain, as much as you hate it, is part of the path. It will sharpen your will and strengthen your resolve. But too much pain… can break even the strongest mind."

I clenched my fists tightly, frustration boiling beneath the surface. "I didn't even break through to Level 1 Body Refinement," I muttered under my breath, bitterness lacing my voice.

Lan Mei placed a hand on my shoulder, her expression unreadable. "Then consider this a warning from the art itself," she said softly. "This path is not kind. If you falter, it will devour you. But if you endure, the rewards will be limitless."

Her words hung in the air, and for the first time, a sliver of fear crept into my heart. The road ahead was painful, and I had yet to even take the first step.

***

"Lianchen? Are you alright?" The Emperor's voice, tinged with panic, cut through the serene halls like a blade. He rushed to my side as soon as he noticed the wheelchair, his usually composed expression betraying a rare vulnerability. His eyes swept over me, widening further as he caught sight of the tremors that rippled through my body every so often.

"I'm fine, Father," I replied, my tone indifferent. "It's just pain." My words were calm, detached as if the agony coursing through me was no more than a passing inconvenience. Despite this, my gaze shifted from him to the man standing just behind him—the 3rd prince, one of my half-siblings.

Unlike the 1st prince, whose arrogance and scheming nature made him impossible to respect, the 3rd prince was a figure of distinction. Over 120 years old, he had devoted nearly all that time to cultivation, earning the title of elder within the Star Gazing Sect, the most prestigious sect in the empire.

I inclined my head toward him in acknowledgment—a rare gesture from me. I bore him no ill will, and that was more than I could say for most of my so-called family. The 3rd prince raised an eyebrow at my unexpected civility, but after a moment, he smiled, nodding back with a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

"Thank the heavens," my father exhaled, the relief in his voice palpable. "I feared the assassination attempts had already begun." His words, though sincere, drew an involuntary roll of my eyes.

My father might wear the crown, but his authority was far from absolute. The Empress alone wielded enough influence to challenge his decisions, and that wasn't even considering the labyrinthine web of power struggles within his harem, alliances forged more for political leverage than love. Even now, the throne was less a seat of power and more a precarious perch atop a mountain of shifting loyalties.

"I'm going on a stroll around the mansion," I said calmly, brushing off his concern. "We can talk later."

The Emperor nodded reluctantly, his brow furrowed with unspoken worries. Lan Mei stepped forward and bowed respectfully to the two of them before gripping the handles of my wheelchair. With practiced grace, she began pushing me away, her steps light yet firm.

The mansion grounds stretched before us in a blend of serene beauty and overwhelming opulence. The manicured gardens, sprawling courtyards, and intricately carved pavilions spoke to the empire's wealth and grandeur. Yet, as I observed the gilded surroundings, I felt none of the peace they were meant to inspire. Instead, my thoughts wandered, restless and sharp.

As we turned a corner, I spotted Zhou Yu in the courtyard, her blade flashing through the air with precision and grace. Her movements were fluid, each strike a testament to hours of relentless practice. A small puddle of sweat had formed beneath her feet, evidence of her dedication. I watched her in silence, remembering the legends of the 7 Sword Gods.

The 7 Sword Gods were not merely masters of the blade—they were myths, each one an unparalleled swordsman who had carved their place at the pinnacle of this world. The strongest of them, the 7th Sword God, was a man who had once been unremarkable, a mere mortal among many. Yet, through sheer enlightenment, he had transcended his limitations, becoming a figure of awe and inspiration.

As these thoughts swirled in my mind, Zhou Yu seemed to sense my gaze. She paused mid-swing, turning to meet my eyes. Her expression was intense, her gaze burning with the resolve of someone who refused to yield, no matter the odds.

"Little sister," I began, a faint blush creeping up my cheeks as a mischievous smile played on my lips. "You shouldn't look at me with such intensity. It's wrong. I doubt the family would approve of that… kind of relationship."

For a moment, Zhou Yu blinked, her innocence shielding her from the full weight of my implication. But as understanding dawned, her expression darkened like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon. Who, she seemed to be asking silently, was even thinking about that kind of relationship? And wasn't she the elder sibling here?

"Don't look so down," I teased, my voice dripping with mock pity. "That dark expression of yours speaks volumes about the heartbreak awaiting you. Poor thing. I can already imagine the pain you'll feel when another woman steals me away."

Her grip on her sword tightened, her knuckles whitening as the tension radiated from her in waves. I could almost see the murderous intent swirling in her eyes, though she held herself back admirably.

"Get. Out." Her words were clipped, each syllable laced with barely contained fury. Whatever peace she had cultivated during her training had been thoroughly destroyed, leaving only raw, simmering anger.

"Lan Mei, let's leave her be," I said with an exaggerated sigh, waving my hand as if dismissing the matter entirely. "She must want to vent her frustration on her training. A good venting session is vital for the soul, don't you think?"

Lan Mei stifled a soft laugh, though her expression remained as composed as ever. She bowed politely toward Zhou Yu before continuing to push me away. Behind us, Zhou Yu stood frozen, her sword trembling in her grip as she glared daggers at my retreating form. I imagined her thoughts were now a chaotic storm of rage and exasperation.

"Your words can be rather sharp, Young Master," Lan Mei remarked softly, her tone carrying a hint of amusement.

***

"Lan Mei, I want to start experimenting with herbs. Go and buy some for me, I'll pass the time while healing," I said calmly, leaning back in my wheelchair. 

Lan Mei hesitated for a moment, her brows knitting slightly as she considered my request. "Of course, Young Master," she replied, bowing respectfully before turning to leave. However, I wasn't naive enough to believe she'd personally go to the market. As expected, she left the room to find someone else to handle the task, there was no chance she would feel comfortable leaving me completely alone. Her protective nature was both endearing and, at times, mildly inconvenient.

Once the door clicked shut, I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile. Finally, some solitude.

'I need to start working on making money,' I thought, turning my gaze to the ceiling as memories of my past life began to surface. If I could recall enough, I could revolutionize this world's economy—or at the very least, carve out a comfortable niche for myself. My mind raced through fragmented images of the culinary delights I'd once known.

Cakes, for example. I vaguely remembered the ingredients: flour, eggs… was that all? My memory was fuzzy, but the idea of introducing cakes to this world was tempting.

Wait. Chocolate. The thought struck me like lightning. If I could recreate chocolate, it would be a game-changer. From what I recalled, I'd need cocoa beans, though in my hazy recollection, they were oddly similar to coffee beans, and sugar. As for ice cream, that required milk and sugar. Simplicity itself.

"This will be easy," I murmured to myself, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. The prospect of wealth and influence was tantalizing, but why limit myself to just food? Perfumes were another untapped market, and fashion in this world had been stagnant for millennia. With a few tweaks, I could spark a cultural revolution.

My thoughts whirled with possibilities, each one more ambitious than the last. I could envision fragrances that would captivate royalty, fabrics that would redefine elegance, and desserts that would leave even the most refined palates yearning for more. The challenge wasn't in creating these things, it was in doing so without drawing too much attention to myself too quickly. I wanted to avoid fighting until I was of age...