Deep Meditation

Countless tiny motes of light slowly gathered from every direction.

But this time, Tang Wulin sensed a world of stillness and weight, touched by the coolness of the night.

He sat cross-legged beside the bluestone in the little garden, his awareness sinking little by little. The first thing he sensed was the scent of the soil, the faint breathing of plants in the night breeze, and the almost imperceptible yet unwavering rhythm of ants carrying their loads through cracks in the stone. Only then did he sense the familiar power within his own body.

His Soul Power had already reached rank ten.

He had confirmed that half a year ago.

Yet one rank ten was not necessarily the same as another.

Without a Soul Spirit, his Soul Power had stopped at the threshold, but it had always felt as though something held it beneath a hammer, suspended heavily without falling, unable to take that true step forward. Tonight, now that he finally had enough money and his first Soul Spirit was within reach, the stagnation that had barred his way for half a year seemed at last to be loosening, little by little.

Within his awareness, the Star-Sinking Hammer hovered silently.

It was still black, short, and heavy, as quiet as a star weighing down the farthest reaches of the night. Unlike before, however, the dark gold patterns around its body were clearer than usual. They resembled hairline cracks, or ancient dragon scales pressed deep within, flickering faintly with each breath.

Deeper still, the golden currents of heat continued to surge.

And farther beneath them, exceedingly fine blue-gold root patterns slowly faded from view, binding that scorching intensity tightly in the innermost depths.

Tang Wulin still could not understand any of it.

But he could feel that tonight, he was quieter and steadier than he had ever been during meditation.

It was as though the entire little garden, the whole night, and all the living breath within the soil were slowly drawing toward him, following some indescribable rhythm. Those breaths were neither powerful nor turbulent. They simply seeped into his body little by little, fine, dense, and unceasing, like starlight falling onto water.

In that stillness, his Soul Power grew more solid.

It was not a breakthrough.

It was a consolidation.

Like a hammer already forged, polished one last time by cold fire and the night wind, it had finally settled into exactly the right place.

And amid that stillness, Tang Wulin vaguely "saw" another scene.

Among the blades of grass, a small procession of ants crawled slowly and methodically along a crack in the stone.

They were neither powerful nor remarkable. A casually extended finger could crush them. Yet they carried scraps many times their own weight, one following another, silent and tenacious, without a single step falling out of order.

Tang Wulin's awareness stirred gently.

He could not explain why, but somehow he felt that these tiny creatures possessed a quality he knew well.

Weight.

Steadiness.

The strength to bear a burden.

And once they chose their direction, they would not stop.

That thought flashed past, and then his meditation sank deeper still.

The night slipped by little by little.

By the time he slowly awoke from that quiet, weighty state, the horizon had already turned gray-white.

"Linlin!"

"Wulin! Where are you?"

Lang Yue's anxious calls reached him clearly from the path outside the little garden.

Tang Wulin jolted, finally waking fully from his meditation.

Dew had soaked his trouser cuffs and the front of his shirt, and the morning breeze felt a little cold against his face. Yet he felt remarkably clear and unburdened, as though a stone that had weighed on his chest for ages had finally been set securely in place. Even his limbs felt an indescribable ease.

"Mom! I'm here—"

He hurriedly sprang up from beside the bluestone and ran out, answering as he went.

Perhaps it was his imagination, but Tang Wulin suddenly felt a little lighter again. It was not that his strength had diminished, but that the weight once pressing inside his bones had finally become one with him, no longer pulling against him.

He ran out of the little garden and immediately spotted Lang Yue's anxious face.

"You little rascal!" The moment Lang Yue saw him, she hurried over and grabbed his shoulders, looking him over with a trembling voice. "Why didn't you come back inside all night? You worried me half to death!"

Tang Wulin immediately felt guilty.

"Mom, I didn't mean to..." He obediently lowered his head. "I was too excited to sleep last night, so I came out for a walk. Then I sat in the garden for a while and thought I might meditate while I was there. Who knew... it would be morning already?"

Both angry and frightened, Lang Yue raised a hand and lightly tapped his forehead.

"Do you know how terrified I was when I woke up this morning and found your bed empty?"

Tang Wulin ducked his head and hurriedly admitted his mistake.

"Mom, I was wrong."

Lang Yue looked at her son's damp clothes and his little face, so clearly full of energy. In the end, the reproach on the tip of her tongue became only a soft sigh. She knew this child all too well. He had not meant to worry anyone; he had simply encountered something that made him too happy to sleep.

"Let's go home." She took Tang Wulin's hand, her voice still carrying a trace of lingering fear. "Come home and have breakfast first."

"Okay!" Tang Wulin nodded immediately, but after only two steps, he seemed to remember something, and his eyes suddenly lit up.

"Mom, when I meditated last night, it felt different from before."

"How was it different?" Lang Yue asked instinctively.

Tang Wulin thought for a moment, trying to find words his mother could understand.

"Well... I reached rank ten ages ago, but before, my Soul Power always felt stuck there. After last night, it seemed steadier." As he spoke, he could not help clenching his fist. "And the Star-Sinking Hammer feels different too. It's like... it's quieter, but heavier too."

"Tell your father when we get back," she said softly. "He and your teacher understand these things better than I do."

Tang Wulin nodded, but in his heart, he was already recalling the scenes he had seen during last night's meditation, over and over.

The Star-Sinking Hammer.

The night.

The grass.

And... the ants.

For some reason, those tiny, utterly unremarkable creatures stood out with extraordinary clarity in his mind.

By the time they arrived home, Tang Ziran was already up.

Seeing mother and son come through the door together, his worried expression visibly relaxed, but he soon put on a stern face again.

"If you go out at night again, tell us first."

Tang Wulin immediately nodded obediently.

"I understand, Dad."

His swift admission of fault made Tang Ziran swallow the few additional words he had intended to say.

Breakfast was already laid out on the table.

Steam still rose from the porridge, steamed flatbreads were stacked neatly on a plate, and pickled vegetables and fried eggs had also been brought out. Na'er sat at the table, but unlike usual, her eyes did not light up when Tang Wulin returned. Instead, she was rather quiet, as though she had not quite emerged from last night.

"Dad," Tang Wulin said as soon as he sat down, unable to hold back, "when I meditated last night, I think I completely stabilized my rank ten Soul Power."

Tang Ziran paused slightly.

"Stabilized it?"

"Yes." Tang Wulin nodded and described his experience meditating in the little garden as best he could. "I don't really know how to explain it. Before, after I stopped at rank ten, my Soul Power always felt like it was pressed beneath a hammer. But last night, it seemed... to truly become one with me."

As Tang Ziran listened, a thoughtful gleam appeared in his eyes.

He knew his son had reached rank ten long ago, and he knew that although Tang Wulin had not fused with a Soul Spirit over the past half year, he had never stopped cultivating. Now it seemed those six months of waiting had not been wasted. His Soul Spirit had yet to come, but his meditation, forging, and accumulated effort had clearly been compressing his foundation more firmly, layer by layer.

At that thought, Tang Ziran felt even more reassured.

When it came to the first Soul Spirit, the steadier the foundation, the better.

"In that case," he said slowly, "go to school today and get your recommendation letter and all the necessary paperwork taken care of. Tomorrow, I'll take you to the Spirit Pagoda."

"Really?" Tang Wulin immediately sat up straight.

"Really." Tang Ziran nodded. "We've saved enough money, and your Soul Power is stable. There's no reason to delay any longer."

"Long live Dad!"

Tang Wulin was so happy that he nearly jumped off his stool.

This time, even Lang Yue could not help smiling.

The couple had spent far, far too long counting down to this day in their hearts, while the child before them had spent three whole years waiting, enduring, and hammering out this path little by little.

Now that this moment had finally arrived, even the adults struggled to suppress the excitement they had long grown accustomed to restraining.

"Na'er, what's wrong?" Amid his happiness, Tang Wulin suddenly noticed that the little girl beside him was unusually quiet today. "Aren't you happy for your big brother?"

Na'er raised her head, a faint hint of distraction in her large purple eyes. But a moment later, she gave Tang Wulin a sweet smile.

"Of course I'm happy," she said softly. "You're finally going to have your own Soul Spirit."

Tang Wulin had wanted to say more, but seeing that her smile was no different from usual, he assumed she was simply still sleepy and gave it no further thought.

After breakfast, he went to the academy as usual.

This time, he was not going to confirm whether he had reached rank ten. There had long been no reason to doubt that.

He was going to collect his official pre-graduation recommendation letter and obtain the documents the academy needed to issue before he could fuse with a Soul Spirit.

When Lin Ximeng heard that he would be going to the Spirit Pagoda tomorrow, she was clearly happy for him too.

"This day has finally come." She looked at the boy before her, who was visibly much steadier than he had been three years ago, her voice filled with undisguised gratification. "You were right not to rush into fusing with just any Soul Spirit over these past six months. The more firmly you lay your foundation, the less likely you are to regret it once you take that first step."

As she spoke, she handed him the stamped recommendation documents.

"I'll arrange your leave for tomorrow. Once you've fused with your Soul Spirit and returned, make sure you come show me right away."

"Thank you, Teacher Lin."

Tang Wulin accepted the documents with both hands, his eyes shining brilliantly.

When he left the Soul Master class, he was still in high spirits. It was not a superficial excitement, but a deeply grounded joy. It felt as though, after advancing one step at a time since his awakening day, he was finally about to touch the edge of those two words: "Soul Master."

Yet throughout that day, something remained off about Na'er.

When school ended, she waited for him at the gate as usual.

When he bought lollipops, she followed beside him as she always did. But on the way home, she spoke noticeably less than usual, and her gaze kept drifting unconsciously into the distance, as though she were thinking about something.

After dinner, Tang Wulin finally could not help asking.

"Na'er, why do you keep spacing out today?" He reached out and rubbed her silver hair, his voice instinctively softening. "Did someone at school upset you again?"

Na'er shook her head.

"No."

"Then why are you acting so strangely?"

She fell silent for a while, then suddenly raised her head and looked into Tang Wulin's eyes, her voice very soft.

"Big brother, after dinner... will you come walk by the sea with me?"

Tang Wulin was taken aback.

He had planned to go to Mang Tian's workshop that evening and make up some of the work he had missed today. But looking into Na'er's eyes, which rarely held such an earnest plea, he finally nodded.

"Okay."

Then he turned to look at Tang Ziran.

Tang Ziran had naturally heard her, and he could also tell that something was wrong with Na'er's mood today, so he simply smiled and nodded.

"Go ahead," he said. "But don't stay out too late. Come home early."

Though Aolai City was small, their home was not far from the sea.

After leaving the courtyard and walking for ten minutes or so, they could smell the salt in the sea breeze.

The beach here was not beautiful. It lacked the fine white sand of the places the city's wealthy people frequented; instead, it was mostly gravel, shells, and stone fragments polished bright by the waves. But for children who had grown up here, it was familiar enough, and dear enough.

Tonight's moonlight was as lovely as last night's.

The moon hung high above the sea, and starlight scattered across the sky like tiny flecks of silver. Wave after wave washed ashore, leaving the gravel beach gleaming. The cries of seabirds drifted from afar, only to be swiftly scattered into the night by the wind.

Na'er stood beside the sea, gazing up at the night sky.

The sea breeze stirred her silver hair, and moonlight fell across her profile, making her seem even quieter than usual.

"Big brother," she said softly, "there are so many stars tonight."

Standing beside her, Tang Wulin looked up too and could not help smiling.

"Yes," he said. "Maybe they've all come to congratulate me on finally getting a Soul Spirit."

He paused, then turned his head to look at her.

"Na'er, are you sad because you don't have a Martial Soul?"

Na'er gently shook her head.

"No."

She was silent for a few breaths before slowly turning toward him.

Her purple eyes reflected the moonlight and the shimmer of the sea, so quiet that they seemed capable of drawing a person wholly into them.

"Big brother," she said, looking at Tang Wulin, her voice suddenly so soft it seemed to drift away, "if one day... I left, would you miss me?"