Exhale Long or Short, Inhale Slow or Quick: One Hundred and Eight Cycles of Breathing Clouds and Mist

"Pfft!"

A force pressed against Chen Cuo's belly, and he abruptly exhaled!

What was this supposed to be?

His eyes widened, his gaze darting about.

The Old Beggar laughed without explaining. The force in his hand changed, becoming a pull.

"Hiss—"

Chen Cuo involuntarily drew in a breath.

Exhale, inhale—one followed so closely on the other that he had no time even to speak.

In the next instant, the force in the Old Beggar's hand changed again, pressing down once more.

Chen Cuo let out another breath.

This time he exhaled for a long while, as though emptying every last bit of air from his chest and belly.

"Mm!" Chen Cuo struggled to speak, but the Old Beggar shifted his force again and made him inhale. The breath came fast and sharp; in an instant, his deflated chest and belly filled out again.

And so, guided by the Old Beggar, Chen Cuo breathed out and in, out and in, breath after breath—some long, some short, some quick, some slow.

Gradually, stars danced before his eyes, but a strange sensation arose in his belly. His mind cleared, and he understood.

This was a breathing technique. Was the Old Beggar really teaching me a cultivation method? But who taught like this? What would you even call it—learning through practice?

The Old Beggar looked into Chen Cuo's eyes and suddenly smiled. "My Lord, you truly have a gift. You understood so quickly. In this Breathing Technique, one exhalation and one inhalation make a cycle. It consists of Thirty-Six Condensed Cycles and Seventy-Two Scattered Cycles—one hundred and eight cycles in all. Legend has it that in Primordial Antiquity, great beings breathed clouds and mist; with a single breath, winds swept and clouds unfurled, and spring gave way to the Xia Dynasty! How much you remember depends on your fortune, my Lord!"

Chen Cuo was startled. Forgetting his questions about the teaching method, he gathered his thoughts and devoted himself to memorizing it.

Whatever the Old Beggar intended, he would remember it first and worry about the rest later.

Fortunately, before meeting the Old Beggar, he had swallowed a Clarity Pill. Not only were his thoughts clear, but his memory had sharpened considerably. As he concentrated, each exhalation and inhalation grew clearer to him.

The Old Beggar noticed, surprise flashing in his eyes, but continued what he was doing.

Chen Cuo had closed his eyes, giving himself wholly to the rhythm of the breaths. As time passed, his mind sank deeper into it, until everything outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the breaths flowing in and out.

With each breath, his mind grew steadier, and a faint warmth slowly arose in his lower belly.

Time passed.

When he breathed out for the last time, completing all one hundred and eight cycles, Chen Cuo woke with a start. An indescribable comfort spread through every limb and bone. His whole body felt as though it were soaking in a hot spring, warm and wonderfully heated.

He opened his eyes. In that instant, everything around him seemed bright and clear; even the tiniest details in the gaps between the tables and chairs and the corners of the doors and windows stood out distinctly.

Chen Cuo sprang to his feet, feeling almost as light as a swallow and strong enough to move mountains.

But once he stood still, those sensations faded.

There really was something to it! he thought with a sigh. He looked for the Old Beggar, wanting to ask him a few questions, but the room was empty. There was no sign of him.

What happened? He was guiding me through that last breath just now. How did he vanish the moment I turned around?

Chen Cuo summoned the guards from outside and questioned them.

After hearing him out, the guards exchanged glances, each seeming to have something to say but holding back.

Finding this strange, Chen Cuo pressed them.

Only then did one guard say, "We were ordered to stand watch, but we never saw any beggar."

Startled, Chen Cuo felt a chill in his heart and sent for Chen Hai.

Chen Hai said, "None of us saw a beggar. You said you were hungry, my Lord, and told us to prepare a late-night meal." He glanced at the grease stains on Chen Cuo's chest and the mess across the table. His eyes shifted slightly, puzzlement showing on his face.

He didn't remember the Old Beggar?

Unwilling to accept it, Chen Cuo questioned several more people. Only then did he realize that not one of them had the slightest impression of the Old Beggar, as though the man had never appeared at all.

Had I been dreaming?

The thought arose, but Chen Cuo immediately shook his head and dismissed it.

If he had fallen asleep, he could only have entered the Dream Marsh. How could he have dreamed?

For a moment, Chen Cuo was torn between shock and doubt. Noticing Chen Hai's gaze, he looked down at his chest and saw the grease stains, then raised his eyes to the mess on the table. At last he was certain: the Old Beggar had come, but no one else remembered him! The whole thing felt deeply uncanny.

Thinking back, I really was reckless. Between what Chen Jiao said and the Evil Ghost's threat, I was so desperate I'd have eaten anything put before me. When that beggar pinned me in place just now, I couldn't move a muscle. It was dangerous, even if it ended well. A fall into the pit should make me wiser; I must be careful from now on.

At that thought, he lowered his head again and looked at his clothes, unsure whether to laugh or cry. Ruining an outfit was a small matter, though. What mattered was what sort of method he had been given.

I don't even know the name of this Nameless Breathing Technique, much less what it does. It's a product with no name, no provenance, and no promised effects. As for breathing clouds and mist and making spring turn to the Xia Dynasty—that's nothing but an empty claim. If it were truly so powerful, how could he teach it so casually? And the contents are so simple. Wasn't he afraid I'd pass it around? I muddled through it once already; who knows if there are hidden dangers? Besides, both the beggar and Daoist Zhou said secretly learning a method was improper. Am I supposed to put it away and never touch it again?

At that thought, he gave a wry smile. When I first saw the Old Beggar and couldn't find him again, I searched everywhere. Now that I've finally met him, I'm wavering instead. I've got a cultivation method and I'm still hesitating. The human heart is hard to fathom—even my own. But whether I practice it or not, I have to write it down first!

With his mind made up, he dismissed everyone, returned to his room, lay down on the bed, and entered the Dream Marsh.

Once inside, the pill's effects had not yet worn off, though they were beginning to weaken. The Nameless Breathing Technique, which his body had learned directly, was already growing a little hazy in his memory.

Chen Cuo took a deep breath. After weighing the matter for a long while, he finally projected a sheet of white paper in the dream and briskly wrote everything down while he still remembered it clearly.

Besides the pattern of breaths, he made a point of noting how long each inhalation and exhalation took, and even how much force each required.

Without the pill, there's no way I could have recorded it without a single mistake. The Clarity Pill will be tremendously useful in the future. Whenever something important comes up, I should swallow one first!

When he finished the final stroke, Chen Cuo blew the ink dry and picked up the page. He studied the Nameless Breathing Technique written on it for a long time, then gritted his teeth.

At this point, how many choices do I have? If I keep picking and choosing, I may lose my life. Enough said. I'm doing it!

That night, he practiced the breathing cycles again until late.

The next morning, Chen Cuo woke feeling full of energy. While washing up, he let his attention slip for a moment and actually left a slight dent in the copper basin with his fingers.

It worked this well? Already?

Startled and delighted, he felt much less doubtful about the Nameless Breathing Technique. What he lacked most was time. If it could quickly increase his strength, that was exactly what he wanted! How could he afford to worry about so much else?

Besides strength, I need to make use of whatever can keep me safe nearby.

With that in mind, Chen Cuo ate breakfast and had Chen Hai make preparations. Then he took a carriage out of the city, telling others he was going to find a temple and pray to Buddha.

When the news reached the Prince's Residence, Chen Cuo's Mother was busy dealing with the aftermath of the theft. She frowned. "He certainly has time to enjoy himself, while his household is in danger."

Chen He, standing nearby, said, "My Lord has worked hard these past few days gathering recognition. Now that trouble has struck the residence, perhaps he means well by praying to Buddha for our safety."

Chen Cuo's Mother shook her head and sighed. Then something occurred to her. "Mr. Zhou said the Second Young Master's essay had earned him a little recognition. What was that essay like? Tell me."

Chen He shook his head and demurred. "What would someone like me know about literary matters? Why not invite Gentleman Zhang? He's learned and knows many people. You can ask him."

Chen Cuo's Mother agreed. "Very well. I also need to ask him soon about the matter I had him investigate."