Chapter 107: Jianghu

*JOLT!*

“Huff—! Huff—!”

Kyle shot upright, his body jerking violently as he sucked in deep, desperate breaths. His chest heaved, and his heart hammered against his ribs as though he had just escaped the jaws of death.

Which, considering what had happened, wasn’t too far from the truth.

“Fuck! Fuck!”

His eyes darted around wildly, searching for the familiar darkness of the forest. He expected to see towering trees, tangled roots, and the oppressive blackness that had haunted him throughout his desperate escape.

Instead, he found himself staring at a wooden ceiling.

For several seconds, he simply stared, his mind struggling to make sense of what he was seeing.

Then he looked down at his hands.

He turned them over, flexed his fingers, and pressed his palms against his chest. Beneath his skin, his heartbeat continued to thunder, steady and unmistakably real. He touched his face, his neck, and his arms, as though he needed to confirm every part of his body was still attached.

“Fuck… I’m alive.”

His voice came out hoarse.

He pressed a hand against his chest again.

“I’m alive. I fucking survived!”

Relief washed over him so intensely that he almost laughed. He had genuinely believed he was going to die in that godforsaken forest. He could still remember the blood soaking his clothes, the darkness swallowing his vision, and the horrible sensation of his body giving up on him.

Yet here he was, breathing.

Somehow, against all reasonable expectations, he had survived.

“Holy shit…”

Kyle leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to calm himself. His entire body was covered in sweat, and his skin felt abnormally warm. In fact, he was sweating so much that the moisture gathered along his forehead and trickled down his temples.

That was strange.

He distinctly remembered the freezing night air outside the forest. Even through his injuries, he had felt the cold creeping into his body as he stumbled across the plains.

Now, however, the room felt almost unbearably warm.

Only then did he finally begin paying attention to his surroundings.

He was lying on a narrow bed covered with a thin mattress and a coarse blanket. The room itself was modest, its walls constructed from weathered wooden planks that had darkened with age. Thick wooden beams supported the ceiling, while the windows were fitted with simple latticework rather than glass.

A small wooden table stood against one wall, accompanied by a couple of low stools. Near the opposite corner, a fireplace crackled vigorously, its orange flames illuminating the room and casting shifting shadows across the wooden surfaces.

The air carried the faint scent of burning firewood, medicinal herbs, and something bitter that reminded him of traditional medicine.

It wasn’t a modern hospital. It wasn’t even remotely close to something like a hospital.

“…Where am I?”

Kyle glanced down at himself.

His upper body was wrapped in layers of gauze and linen bandages. Several thick strips covered his shoulder, while additional dressings encircled his forearm and torso. Whoever had treated him had taken considerable care to bind his wounds properly.

He carefully touched one of the bandages, wincing when a dull ache spread through his shoulder.

“Ah, Still hurts.”

At least he wasn’t bleeding all over the place anymore that was an improvement for him.

“Looks like some kind soul really saved my ass from dying,” he muttered. “The System was right about me not dying here. For once, that bastard actually got something right.”

He paused and began examining the room more carefully.

The wooden architecture, the lattice windows, the low furniture, and the traditional fireplace all looked strangely familiar. He had encountered similar settings countless times while reading Chinese martial arts novels and manhua.

The furnishings weren’t particularly luxurious. There were no elaborate carvings, expensive decorations, or polished furnishings that would suggest the home belonged to some wealthy noble. Everything looked practical, modest, and somewhat old-fashioned.

It reminded him of an ordinary village house from an ancient Chinese setting.

And that realization brought an entirely different thought to mind.

“Hold on…”

Kyle slowly turned his head, examining the wooden beams and the traditional clothing folded on a nearby stool.

“Why does this place look so damn familiar? It’s practically straight out of those Chinese martial arts novels.”

He had read enough of them to recognize the general aesthetic. The wooden houses, the traditional furnishings, and the simple arrangement of the room all resembled the villages frequently depicted in stories about wandering swordsmen, powerful sects, and people who could split boulders with a single punch.

Of course, a similar-looking house didn’t prove anything.

He could have landed in a world with a completely different history that happened to possess comparable architecture.

Still…

“Am I in Jianghu?”

The question escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

Jianghu, the world of martial artists, wandering heroes, rival sects, and endless grudges.

If he had actually landed in such a world, his situation could become considerably more complicated.

On the one hand, a martial arts world might offer opportunities to learn incredible techniques and acquire resources unavailable on Earth.

On the other hand, he was an injured outsider with no knowledge of the local customs, no connections, and barely enough strength to walk across a room and if the stories he had read were even remotely accurate, offending the wrong person could get him killed faster than that Bloodfang Wolf had nearly managed.

“Great.”

Before Kyle could continue entertaining increasingly alarming possibilities, the door creaked open.

“Looks like you’re doing well, young man.”

A tall, elderly man stepped into the room.

He possessed a slender frame and stood nearly as tall as Kyle, despite his advanced age. His long grey beard flowed down his chest, and his mostly bald head reflected the warm firelight. Fine wrinkles lined his face, but his eyes remained clear and alert, carrying the calm, observant expression of someone who had spent many years dealing with other people’s troubles.

He wore a loose, traditional Chinese robe with wide sleeves, its muted colours suggesting practicality rather than wealth.

Kyle immediately formed an assumption.

‘He’s the doctor, I presume?’

The old man’s appearance certainly fit the part. More importantly, Kyle’s bandaged body offered compelling evidence that someone with medical knowledge had treated him.

“Thank you for saving me, Doctor.”

Remembering the traditional gestures he had seen in countless manhua and novels, Kyle carefully brought his hands together and bent forward in a deep kowtow.

Unfortunately, his enthusiasm exceeded his physical capabilities.

The movement pulled at the wounds across his torso, sending a sharp sting through his body.

‘Ah—fuck!’

He straightened with a grimace, regretting his decision almost immediately.

The elderly man stared at him for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle.

“There’s no need for such a grand gesture, young man. I merely did what any physician should do when presented with an injured person.”

He stroked his beard and glanced toward the doorway.

“The one who actually saved you was this young lady.”

Kyle followed his gaze.

A young woman had entered behind the elderly man, standing quietly near the doorway. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with smooth, fair skin and a slender, graceful figure. Her long black hair was gathered into a neat bun, with a few delicate strands framing her face. She had an oval face, delicate features, long eyelashes, and clear black eyes that reflected the warm glow of the fire.

Her simple traditional Chinese robes suited the understated surroundings, though their neat arrangement and elegant fit gave her an air of refinement.

She was, without question, exceptionally beautiful.

Kyle blinked.

Then he blinked again.

‘…Holy shit.’