The next morning.
For the first time in a while, Lumien managed to sleep through the morning without anyone interrupting him.
Usually, his family would check on him regularly, with his sister taking the lead. She would then drag him to training sessions and make him go through a variety of different exercises to improve his body condition.
When he finally woke up, his stomach grumbled loudly, demanding attention.
"Ah, I'm starving," he muttered. "At times like this, I really wish I had some instant noodles. They're so simple and tasty, way better than dragging myself all the way to the dining room."
He glanced toward the window and frowned. "What time is it, anyway?"
Pulling back the curtains, he squinted at the bright sunlight streaming in. The sun was already high in the sky, glaring down on him.
"Is it noon already? Did no one wake me up?" He fought back a yawn as he shuffled to the lavatory to answer nature's call. After rinsing his face and brushing his teeth, he opened the door to leave his room.
That's when he noticed it, a tray neatly placed on the floor, holding plates of food.
"Did they try to wake me up but leave the food here when I didn't answer?" he wondered aloud. "Usually, if I oversleep and don't respond, the servants would notify my family to check on me… oh, maybe Azalea told them about my nightmare and figured I'd sleep in today."
A small smile crept onto his face. "Hehe, having a caring sister is definitely one of the best things about being reincarnated."
With that, Lumien picked up the tray and brought it back into his room. Since his family and the servants were clearly leaving him alone for now, he decided he might as well stay in his room a little longer and enjoy the rare peace.
On the tray was his usual meal, prepared under strict guidance from a specialist due to his fragile health. Unlike the rich and indulgent dishes his family enjoyed, his food was plain and carefully portioned, tailored to suit his body's unique needs.
He sat cross-legged on the bed, placed the tray in front of him, and sighed as he uncovered the plates. Steamed vegetables, a small piece of lean meat, and a bowl of lightly seasoned broth greeted him. It wasn't the most appetizing meal, but it was something he had grown used to over the years.
"Healthy and bland," he muttered with a wry smile, stabbing a piece of carrot with his fork. "Story of my life."
"Fortunately, this will all come to an end soon," Lumien thought, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes. "God, I miss barbecue so much. The taste of tender meat sizzling on the grill, the smoky aroma… and don't even get me started on liquor." His mouth watered at the thought. "The day I can eat those again will be the day I stuff myself silly. I'll eat until I can't move!"
The vivid daydream made his usually bland meal taste a little better, almost like it wasn't the same food he'd been forced to eat for years.
As he finished his meal and pushed the tray aside, Lumien leaned back against his pillow, hands resting behind his head. His gaze drifted to the ceiling.
"It's been half an hour already," he mused. "But I don't feel any noticeable changes in my body. Could it be that to see real, qualitative improvements, my stats need to reach a certain threshold?"
He let out a sigh, a mix of frustration and acceptance. "Yeah, that's probably it. Even in games, you don't see much of a difference from raising a stat by just one point. It takes at least a few dozen points before you notice a real improvement."
Lumien chuckled softly to himself. "I guess I got ahead of myself. One point isn't going to work miracles overnight."
"I need to be more patient,"
"If only there were more quests available… that'd be great,"
Before his voice had even faded, a series of transparent screens materialized before his eyes, each displaying rows of text.
"What… what's the meaning of this?!"
...
Summer had come and gone, and now autumn was beginning to settle in. The once oppressive heat had faded, replaced by the crisp, cooler air of the season. In the Ofnir mansion, the change in weather had brought a flurry of activity. Servants bustled about, carrying stacks of packages and loading them carefully into several carriages parked in the courtyard.
Standing among them was the Ofnir family's Head Butler, Janton. With his deep-set eyes and distinctively twirling mustache. He watched the servants' every move with hawk-like focus, occasionally barking orders to keep them in line.
"Be careful with those boxes! These are gifts for the Lord Duke, and if anything happens to them, it'll be your heads gifted next!" Janton roared, his voice echoing across the courtyard. "Treat those packages as if they were newborn babies! Handle them with the utmost care!"
Up on the second floor of the mansion, Lumien sat by a large window, watching the commotion below. He was in one of his favorite places, the Ofnir family's private library. The cozy room was lined with rows of medium-sized bookshelves, each one packed with volumes on various subjects.
For Lumien, this library had become a sanctuary over the years. With his frail body limiting his physical activity, he had spent countless hours here, immersing himself in books. If he couldn't be strong, he had reasoned, then he would at least strive to be knowledgeable, like a scholar.
As a former college student and an avid web novel reader, reading had always been one of his greatest joys.
As he watched the scene outside, his gaze drifted back to the open book on the table. The distant chatter of the servants and the cool autumn breeze filtering through the slightly open window created a sense of calm, even amidst the bustle below.
Just then, the sound of steady, approaching footsteps broke the tranquil atmosphere of the library. Lumien turned his head slightly and saw a familiar figure, his sister, Azalea. As always, she was dressed in her training pants and a plain white shirt, with a sword hanging casually at her waist.
Despite the thin sheen of sweat glistening on her face, it did nothing to diminish her beauty. If anything, it added to her allure, giving her a kind of radiating beauty.
Lumien reached into his pocket and pulled out a zebra-patterned handkerchief. As Azalea walked over and sat beside him, the faint scent of her sweat and her natural body fragrance immediately assaulted his senses.
Damn it!
Feeling self-conscious, he quickly crossed his legs to hide the changes her presence had stirred in him before handing her the handkerchief.
Azalea's lips curved into a warm smile at the gesture. "How thoughtful of you!" she said, her tone genuinely pleased.
But just as she reached out to take it, her hand stopped midair. A mischievous smirk spread across her face as she retracted her hand and leaned in closer to Lumien. Her voice took on an exaggerated, melodramatic tone as she whined, "Ah~ My hands are so tired from all that sword practice. I don't think I can even lift a handkerchief to wipe my face."
"My sweet, caring little brother, would you be so kind as to help your poor, exhausted big sister?"
Her beaming smile left Lumien both exasperated and speechless.
"Hmm?" Azalea pressed, still maintaining her smile.
"Alright, fine," Lumien sighed in defeat.
As he leaned closer, handkerchief in hand, an unwelcome thought crept into his mind. He didn't know if this would lead to trouble, but after that eventful night when he had experienced his first wet dream, he couldn't help but see his sister in a different light.
Things had only gotten more complicated since then. Every night, he had to awkwardly ask her to do embarrassing poses under the pretense of needing references for his drawings. The surprising part wasn't just how easily she agreed, it was how much effort she put into it. Azalea often improvised the poses or even took the initiative, playfully suggesting ideas before he could speak.
Of course, to maintain the excuse, Lumien had no choice but to draw her in the poses she struck. While his artistic skills were far from exceptional, his years of being confined by illness had left him with little else to do but practice quiet hobbies like sketching. It was enough to make his attempts passable.
Shaking himself free of the spiraling thoughts, Lumien refocused and gently pressed the handkerchief to her face. As if on cue, Azalea instinctively closed her eyes, tilting her head slightly to make it easier for him.
At this close distance, Lumien's heart skipped a beat as he found himself studying her features in detail. Her eyebrows, fine and delicately arched, seemed to flutter ever so slightly. Was she nervous? But why would she be? Her flushed cheeks glowed faintly, likely from the intensity of her training. Then there was her perfectly shaped nose, balanced and elegant, and her lips—small, pink, and undeniably cute.
Gulp!
Lumien swallowed hard, unable to control the reaction.
"What's wrong? Why did you stop?" Azalea's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Without missing a beat, he threw the handkerchief lightly at her face. "Wipe it yourself," he said, trying to mask his embarrassment.
Azalea opened her eyes and clicked her tongue. "Che, why are you so harsh toward your sister?"
"Harsh?" Lumien raised an eyebrow. "You want real harsh? Then move away, you reek of sweat!"
The words were barely out of his mouth when he felt a sharp slap on the back of his head.
"Ow! What was that for?" he yelped, rubbing the sore spot indignantly.
"That's for calling me stinky!" Azalea retorted with a glare. "There's an unspoken rule among men: you never call out a lady, even if she stinks."
Lumien scowled. "I've never heard of that rule before."
"That's because you're still a boy, my silly little brother!" Azalea quipped, smirking triumphantly.
As they playfully bantered, Azalea suddenly grew more serious. "By the way… you look healthier now, don't you?"
"Do I?" Lumien feigned surprise, though he could feel her gaze studying him closely.
"Yes," she said, nodding thoughtfully. "Before, your skin was deathly pale, and your eyes… they had this emptiness, like you'd resigned yourself to fate and wouldn't even mind if you died. That's why I've been so protective of you. I was always afraid you'd do something reckless." She paused, her expression softening. "But now… now your features have brightened. And there's something new in your eyes... hope."
Lumien froze, caught off guard by her words.
What she said wasn't wrong. In fact, it perfectly described him, both the person he used to be and the person he was becoming.
Geez, does she always pay this much attention to me? Is that really why she never leaves me alone? Because she was afraid I might commit suicide?
"So, what do you feel? Are you feeling any better?"
Snapping out of his trance, Lumien gave the question some thought before replying, "I think I am. Over the past two weeks, I've felt lighter, like my body isn't dragging me down as much. My breathing doesn't give out as easily, and my head… it doesn't throb with migraines like before. I feel…" He paused, searching for the right word. "I feel reborn!"
"Reborn?! Isn't that a bit exaggerated? Could it be the medicine? No, that doesn't make sense. You've been taking the same medicines all this time, and they've never helped before. So what is it? Are they finally working, or is something else going on?"
She leaned in closer, her eyebrows furrowed. "Tell me everything you've done in the past two weeks!"