Adrian asked, "So what do I do ?"

  ained silent for a moment before answering.

  "Before you begin, there is something you must master first."

  Adrian's brows furrowed slightly, but he remaitentive.

  "You have already sensed Qi without a teology and uood its presence, and its flow within your body. However, sensing it is not enough—you must learn to trol it, to guide it at will."

  Adrian hat much was obvious.

  "Most cultivators use breathing teiques to trol Qi," o tinued. "They follow precise rhythmic patterns, allowing their breathing to naturally guide the flow of energy withihis method is effit, but also a crutch—they rely oeique rather than their own ability to pull Qi directly."

  o's voice became firmer. "What you will do is different."

  Adrian's eyes narrowed.

  "You will not use any breathing teiques. You will not rely on aernal method to guide the flow of Qi. Instead, you will learn to pull Qi directly with your will."

  A moment of sileretched between them.

  "…How much harder will it be?" Adrian asked.

  "At least a huimes more difficult."

  Adrian exhaled slowly. That was no small number.

  "But if you do it," o tinued, "you will develop a level of trol that others only dream of. It will be slow, painful, and frustrating—but once you succeed, you will ruggle to trol Qi again."

  Adrian was silent for a moment before nodding. "Alright. How do I start?"

  o didn't hesitate. "Sit. Close your eyes. Feel the Qi in the air, in your body, ihing around you. Then… pull it."

  That was all. No breathing rhythm. No teique. Just raw willpower.

  Adrian sat cross-legged, his back straight, eyes closed. The air around him was calm, undisturbed, but within his mind, a storm brewed.

  He reached out, trying to grasp the Qi in his surroundings. He could feel it—like mist drifting through the air, like unseen currents flowih the surface. It was there, but it remained untouchable.

  He furrowed his brows and focused harder. His mind tched onto the energy, anding it to move. But it slipped away like water running through his fingers.

  An hour passed. Then two.

  By the end of the day, he had tried every possible approach he could think of. He had attempted to pull the Qi gently, then forcefully, then with pure willpower—but nothing worked.

  His body remained motionless, his expression calm, but frustration g him from within.

  o, however, gave no words of encement. No guidance.

  This was something Adrian had to overe on his own.

  The day began the same way.

  Adrian started his practice at sunrise. He sat on the floor, closed his eyes, and tried to pull Qi toward him just by fog his mind. For hours, nothing happened. By te afternoon, he wondered if he was missing something. He ged his posture, slowed his breathing, and tried again. Still, there was no clear sign that the Qi was responding.

  As night fell, Adria his stomach growl. He remembered the special pill he had in his pouch. With a slight shrug, he took one and ate it. It tasted a bit bitter, but it eased his huheried once more to sehe Qi, but the results were the same—no movement, no spark. Still, he refused to let frustration take over. He y down to sleep, determiain the day.

  When m came, Adrian woke up early a straight back to training. He tried every idea he could think of: different positions, different ways of breathing, even standing for a while instead of sitting. Yet, he still felt nothing. By noon, he felt a small wave of frustration, but he kept it hiddeook another pill for lund spent the afternooing his attempts. As evening arrived, he realized the day had passed much like the first—no success at all.

  Though his mi heavy, he reminded himself that giving up now would lead nowhere. He slept that night with a slight frown, but also a quiet resolve to keep trying.

  Ohird m, Adrian decided to speak with o again. "Am I doing something wrong?" he asked, settling into his usual spot.

  "No," o answered. "This path demands patiend trial. If it were simple, I wouldn't have bothered suggesting it to you. Keep going, and trust in your efforts."

  Enced but still uain, Adriahe rest of the day repeating the same exercises. He cleared his mind, reached out to the Qi, and waited for any sign ress. The hours crept by, mirr the previous days, and once again, he ehe night with no clear improvement.

  By the fourth day, Adrian had fallen into a steady routine: wake up, practice sensing Qi, eat a pill when hungry, practice more, and then sleep. Each day felt almost the same. On the fifth day, he realized he was growing more and more anxious. Was his talent not as good as he thought? Why wasn't he making any progress?

  Despite these doubts, Adrian refused to give in. He kept telling himself that real cultivation wouldn't e easily. Even though he hadn't sehe slightest flicker of Qi movement, he believed that each attempt brought him oiny step closer to success. And so, at the end of the fifth day, he y down once again, his mind filled with questions, but his heart still set on tinuing.

  When Adrian woke up on the sixth day, he knew he had to ge something in his routio keep frustration away. After his usual m practice—which still showed s—he took breaks by imagining all the pces he wao visit someday. He pictured tall mountains, hidden valleys, and bustling cities full of unique foods. This daydreaming helped calm his mind before he returo more hours of training. Despite his efforts, the Qi stayed out of reach, and night fell with no success.

  On the seventh day, Adriahe same strategy. Every time he felt his miing tense, he took a moment to think about future adventures. He wondered about tasting rare dishes in distant nds or meeting masters of different arts. These thoughts gave him enough hope to keep trying, but once again, he made no real progress. By night, he still couldn't move the Qi at all.

  The wo days followed a simir pattern. Adria his ms and afternoons in focused practice, trying new angles and slight ges in posture. He took short breaks to let his mi and to remind himself why he was on this path. But nothing ged. The Qi remained silent, and he went to bed both nights feeling the same flicker of disappoi.

  By the tenth day, the routi almost normal to him. He woke up, traiook a pill when hungry, and allowed himself short moments to imagihe future. On the eleventh day, he felt a spike of frustration as he realized he still hadn't sensed any progress. Even so, he refused to let doubt take over. He pushed aside his worries a practig.

  Over the hree days, Adrian tried his best not to think about his ck of results. He repeated o's words in his mind: if it were easy, everyone would do it. That reminder helped him stay calm, even when he ended each day with the same oute: no movement of Qi, just endless attempts and quiet resolve.

  On the fifteenth day, Adrian began his training like usual, never expeg anything different. Yet, ie afternoon, as he focused harder than ever before, he felt a small spark. It was a faint shift in the energy around him, just enough to prove he could guide it the ti bit. He didn't jump or shout, but inside, he felt a surge of relief aement. It wasn't a full breakthrough—he couldn't actually trol the Qi yet—but it was a start. And for Adrian, that small success was more than enough to keep him going.

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