Deep in the Valley, Cultivating with a Calm Heart

As dawn broke, I put away the jade slip and tucked it into my sleeve. The useless spirit stone was still pressed against my chest, its icy touch against my skin. I didn't spare it another glance, merely reaching out to turn the incense burner in the corner upside down, extinguishing the remaining ashes.

The wooden door creaked open, and the morning breeze blew in. I glanced back at the small hut. A few unfinished stone slabs were piled in the corner, and vines hung down from the roof, unrepaired from yesterday. I had no intention of returning.

Following the feeling I'd had while stargazing last night, I walked towards the west side of the valley. The earth underfoot was soft and damp, making no sound as I stepped on it. After less than a hundred paces, the air changed. The air I inhaled was no longer dry, but carried a hint of moisture, like the coolness of freshly drawn well water.

The System's voice chimed softly, "Three hundred paces ahead, earth veins converge, spiritual energy concentration triples."

I stopped, not rushing forward. My last mistake was due to being too eager. This time, I had to steady myself first. I found a flat stone and sat down, closing my eyes, focusing only on my breathing.

At first, my mind was a mess. I thought of the three rules I'd written down last night, and then the tearing sensation when I'd tried to break through the Yuzhen Pass. I forcefully suppressed these thoughts, fixing my gaze only on the breath entering and leaving my nostrils. One exhale, one inhale, slower, even slower.

Gradually, the noise in my ears faded. I could hear the sound of dripping water in the distance, each drop matching the rhythm of my heartbeat. My eyelids no longer felt heavy. I opened my eyes. The mist was still there, but it no longer blocked my path as it had before. I could make out the shadows of trees within a few yards ahead, with faint light filtering through the branches.

I continued forward. The ground began to slope, not steeply, but each step felt like crossing a boundary. The deeper I went, the heavier the air became, yet my body felt lighter. My Daoist Robe clung to me; I wasn't sweating, but my back felt slightly damp.

After walking for a while longer, the view suddenly opened up. A hollow appeared before me, surrounded by low hills. In the center, a thin stream emerged from a crack in the rocks, winding around a few green stones before flowing away silently. The ground was covered in a layer of light green moss, soft and yielding underfoot.

I chose a large stone directly opposite the stream's opening and sat down. The surface of the stone was flat, neither too high nor too low, perfect for naturally crossing my legs. I placed my hands on my knees, palms facing up, fingertips slightly curled.

Closing my eyes, I began to regulate my breathing. My Dantian was empty, not even a wisp of airflow could be grasped. This wasn't a bad thing. I knew I couldn't force anything now; I had to wait.

I relaxed my shoulders, letting my breath become shallow. I wasn't trying to absorb spiritual energy, but rather to become like a sponge, spread out and still. Time passed, and sweat began to bead on my forehead. It wasn't from heat, but from prolonged concentration.

Suddenly, the tip of my right index finger twitched. It wasn't a muscle spasm, but an external sensation. A thread of extremely fine airflow entered through my fingertips and climbed up along my meridians. It was slow, but steady.

I didn't move, nor did I try to pursue it. I simply watched it go. It passed through the Shousanli, then Quchi, and finally Jianjing, moving non-stop. When it circled around my back and approached the Mingmen Acupoint, another stream of energy surged from the soles of my feet, meeting it at the Weiyu.

As the two streams of energy met, my Dantian contracted sharply. It was like a sudden echo from the bottom of a well. Immediately, a point of golden light ignited within my abdomen. It wasn't a color, but a feeling—warm, stable, born from within.

I remained still. I didn't let it run too fast, nor did I block it. I let it circulate on its own. Starting from the Dantian, it rose along the Ren Meridian. The Tanzhong Acupoint felt a little blocked, so I paused and gently nudged it with my intention. Not pushing, not pulling, just a touch.

The cluster of purple dispersed. The airflow continued upward, passing through Tiantu, Lianquan, and reaching Chengjiang. Then it turned to the Du Meridian, starting from Yinjiao and moving backward. The Dazhui Acupoint felt a little cool, so I slowed its pace, letting it linger for a while. Once the temperature stabilized, it continued.

As it neared the Yuzhen Pass, my heartbeat quickened by half a beat. This was where it had exploded last time. I took a deep breath, telling myself: I won't force it this time.

As the airflow approached the pass, it was indeed obstructed. I could feel it hitting, like raindrops on tiles. But I didn't add any force. I simply guarded, like someone standing at a doorway, waiting for the guest to push it open themselves.

After three breaths, the obstruction loosened. The airflow didn't charge through, but seeped through, little by little, wisps at a time, like mist entering a forest. Passing the Yuzhen Pass, the entire Du Meridian suddenly opened. The Baihui Acupoint felt distended, as if sunlight was shining on the top of my head.

Finally, it reversed along the Du Meridian back to the Ren Meridian, returning to the Dantian. One cycle was complete, and I was drenched in sweat. My clothes clung to me, and my hair stuck to my forehead. Yet, my body didn't feel tired; instead, it felt as if a burden had been lifted.

I opened my eyes. The sky hadn't changed, but my surroundings had. The sound of the stream was clearer, and I could even hear the dewdrops rolling off the moss. I looked down at my hands; my fingertips glowed with a faint halo, not an overflow of spiritual power, but a sign of smooth circulation of blood and essence.

The System displayed a line of text: "Detected host's resonance with environment has increased, cultivation efficiency +40%."

I didn't respond. Not out of unhappiness, but because I didn't want to break this state. The cycle I had just completed was more substantial than my previous ten combined. I knew why. Before, I was practicing; now, the practice was guiding me.

I closed my eyes again, preparing to start another cycle. This time, I wanted to try without conscious guidance, relying entirely on my body's instincts.

As soon as I settled my mind, my earlobe suddenly twitched. A faint sound came from the woods to my left, like leaves rustling in the wind. But the wind today was coming from the right.

I didn't open my eyes. Nor did I mobilize my spiritual power. I simply diverted a sliver of my attention there. The sound didn't reappear. The stream continued to flow, and the birdsong was normal.

Perhaps it was just my imagination. Perhaps an animal had passed by.

I withdrew my thoughts, refocusing on my Dantian. That point of golden light was still there, brighter than before. I let it slowly rise, following the old path.

As the airflow passed the Zhongji Acupoint, the sound came again from the left. This time, it was the sound of a branch breaking, short and clear. It wasn't far, at most twenty paces.

I still didn't move. My breathing remained steady, and the energy within me continued to circulate. If it was truly danger, panicking now would be useless. If it was a misunderstanding, startling it would be detrimental.

As the airflow reached the Guanyuan Acupoint, the sound came for the third time. This time, it was the rustling of footsteps on dry leaves, slow, rhythmic, approaching this way.

I finally withdrew the last sliver of my intention. The energy within my body automatically retreated to the Dantian, sinking to the bottom. I slowly lowered my hands, palms flat against the stone.

My head was bowed, my eyes closed, but every pore on my body was open. I could feel the direction of the wind change, carrying a faint, musky scent mixed with the smell of grass and trees.

The thing was still fifteen paces away.

Ten paces.

Five paces.

It stopped.

I heard breathing, heavy and low, coming from directly in front of me.

I didn't look up. Nor did I dare to circulate my energy. Here, on this stone, I maintained the posture of meditation, like an immobile stone statue.

Its shadow fell upon the tips of my shoes.