The Cursed Power

Xianwu slowly opened his eyes, the familiar feeling of weariness weighing heavily upon him. His vision adjusted to the dimly lit room, the flickering light of a lantern casting gentle shadows on the walls. He found himself in a bed, the linen soft against his skin. As he tried to sit up, he noticed two figures nearby, sitting on chairs beside the bed.

Lan Hua had fallen asleep, her head resting gently on her arm, her expression softened in her slumber. Xianwu couldn't help but take a moment to look at her, realizing for the first time that he found her quite beautiful. Her normally stern expression was replaced by a peaceful one, her hair framing her face in a way that made her look almost ethereal.

Before his thoughts could go further, Yun Wei, who had been keeping watch, noticed Xianwu stirring. His eyes widened, and he quickly moved forward. "Xianwu! You're awake!" he exclaimed, his voice barely above a whisper as to not wake Lan Hua.

Xianwu blinked, the memory of what had happened slowly returning. "Yun Wei..." he murmured, his voice hoarse. He tried to sit up again, but Yun Wei put a hand on his shoulder, gently keeping him down. "Take it easy," Yun Wei said. "You've been through quite an ordeal. I'll get the physician."

Yun Wei hurried out of the room, leaving Xianwu with his thoughts. He remembered the darkness, the voice that had spoken to him, the searing pain as the mark was placed upon him. The sensation of being utterly powerless, as if his very existence was being torn apart. Who was that voice? What did it mean by their battle lasting for aeons? Xianwu frowned, confusion and anger swirling within him. He couldn't afford to show weakness, not now. He had to find answers.

A few moments later, Yun Wei returned, accompanied by the physician, an elderly man with a calm demeanor and wise eyes. He nodded at Xianwu, his gaze appraising as he approached the bed. "It is good to see you awake, young man," he said, setting down his bag and beginning his examination. He checked Xianwu's pulse, his brow furrowing slightly as he focused on Xianwu's forehead, where the mark had appeared.

"What... what happened to me?" Xianwu asked, his voice still strained.

The physician sighed, his expression turning grave. "The mark you bear, it is no ordinary scar. It is a seal, one that affects the very essence of your cultivation. It has opened your meridians far beyond their normal capacity, allowing you to draw in and store an immense amount of Qi. This has made you far more powerful than any cultivator at your current level."

Yun Wei glanced at Xianwu, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "That sounds... like a good thing," he said cautiously.

The physician shook his head. "It is not without its dangers. The amount of Qi you can now handle is indeed incredible, but the strain it puts on your body is immense. Your meridians are overloaded, and while this gives you great power, it also makes your Qi system unstable. The more you use this power, the more unstable it will become. Eventually, if you continue down this path, you will lose control over your own Qi. It will either cause an internal explosion or result in the complete breakdown of your physical body."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Yun Wei's eyes widened in shock, and even Lan Hua stirred, her eyes fluttering open as the gravity of the physician's words sunk in. She looked at Xianwu, her face pale. "What... what are you saying?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The physician met her gaze, then looked back at Xianwu. "I estimate you have five, perhaps ten years left to live if you continue cultivating in this manner."

Xianwu's expression remained unreadable, his gaze locked on the ceiling. The news washed over him like a cold wave, but he didn't flinch. Five to ten years. It wasn't much time, but it was enough—enough to find answers, enough to pursue his goals.

Lan Hua's voice trembled as she spoke again, "Is... is there no way to stop it?"

The physician hesitated, then said softly, "There is one way. If you give up cultivation altogether, the instability in your Qi system would subside. The seal would no longer be a threat to your life."

The room fell silent again, the weight of the suggestion hanging heavily between them. Giving up cultivation was akin to giving up one's very purpose, a fate that was no better than death for a cultivator. Everyone in the room knew that.

Yun Wei looked at Xianwu, his eyes searching his friend's face. "Xianwu... you don't have to go down this path. There must be another way," he said, his voice filled with a mix of hope and desperation.

Xianwu finally turned his head to look at Yun Wei, his eyes cold and resolute. "No," he said simply. "I won't stop. I cannot stop. There are things I must do, answers I need to find." He paused, his gaze shifting to the physician. "Thank you for your honesty, but I will not give up cultivation."

Lan Hua's eyes glistened with emotion, her worry evident. "Xianwu... you don't have to do this alone. Whatever happens, we're here for you. We will help you find a way."

Xianwu offered a faint smile, but his eyes held no warmth. "I appreciate your concern, Lan Hua. But this is my burden to bear." He closed his eyes, the image of the shadowy figure flashing in his mind. "There is something... something I need to understand. I won't rest until I find out who that voice belongs to, and what it wants with me."

The physician stood, gathering his things. "I will leave you to rest now," he said. "But remember my warning, young man. There is a price for power, and the cost may be more than you are willing to pay." He nodded at Yun Wei and Lan Hua before leaving the room, the door closing softly behind him.

Yun Wei sat back in his chair, his expression conflicted. "Five to ten years... that's not much time, Xianwu. We have to find a way to change this. There has to be something we can do."

Lan Hua nodded, her determination clear. "We won't let this be the end, Xianwu. We'll find a solution, no matter what."

Xianwu remained silent, his gaze distant. He knew their concern was genuine, and he appreciated it. But the path he walked was one of solitude, and the burden of the mark was his alone to carry. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it without fear—even if it meant walking towards his own destruction.