Proof and a Glimmer of Light

After dinner, Lu Qinghe didn't go to the door for a smoke. He paced twice around the room, then stopped. "Now?"

Lu Yuan nodded. "The backyard."

Lin Xiu leaned against the kitchen doorframe, twisting the edge of her apron between her fingers. She didn't follow them out.

Dusk hung heavy over the backyard. Lu Qinghe positioned himself beside the chopping block, his movements stiff. "What do I do?"

"Cross your legs. Don't put your hands on your knees." Lu Yuan looked up at him. "Rest your wrists on your legs, palms up, and relax."

Lu Qinghe did as he was told, his back ramrod straight.

"Don't tense up." Lu Yuan pressed a small finger beneath his right shoulder blade. "Relax here."

Only after several tries did the muscles reluctantly obey.

"Breathe." Lu Yuan's voice was steady. "In, let it sink into your belly. Pause, then breathe out slowly. In... pause... out..."

The heavy breathing gradually slowed. The yard fell silent.

"Feel that mass of Soul Power in your belly," Lu Yuan said. "Don't move it. Just breathe with its rhythm."

Lu Qinghe frowned. This method was too strange. Soul Power depended on "feeling" rather than ramming into the barrier? His mind wandered.

"Dad." Lu Yuan noticed at once.

Lu Qinghe's Adam's apple bobbed, and he focused again.

Darkness had fallen completely. Dim yellow light spilled from the house, outlining father and son. Lin Xiu quietly came to take a look, then went back inside.

After a long while, Lu Qinghe suddenly gave a surprised "Huh?"

He opened his eyes, a little bewildered. "That mass of heat... moved up a little on its own?"

"That's normal," Lu Yuan said. "Now imagine a small vortex two inches below your chest. You don't have to clear it away. Just hold the thought of something spinning."

Lu Qinghe tried hard to picture it. Whenever he put force into the thought, it turned into a "blockage." After several attempts, sweat appeared on his forehead.

"No rush," Lu Yuan said. "Just get a feel for it today. Remember to breathe and relax. Practice for half an hour every day, and leave your Soul Power alone for the first three days."

"What about the 'vortex'?"

"We'll talk about that after three days."

Lu Qinghe stood, staggering as his legs went numb. He had spent all that time cultivating, only to end up tired without gaining any Soul Power. The little spark in his heart flickered.

Lu Yuan crouched on the ground, using a twig to scratch something out by the light.

"Little Yuan." Lu Qinghe couldn't hold back. "This method... can it really work?"

Lu Yuan didn't look up. "Does your right shoulder still hurt?"

Lu Qinghe paused, then moved his shoulder. "Seems... not?"

"Mm." Lu Yuan made a note in the dirt. "Let's go inside. We'll continue tomorrow."

The second and third days were exactly the same.

After dinner, the backyard, half an hour. It was terribly dull. Lu Qinghe felt like a fool. The warmth of his Soul Power turned slowly, while the level nineteen barrier didn't budge.

On the third evening, he couldn't take it anymore.

"What's the use of just breathing?" He opened his eyes, growing agitated. "My Soul Power hasn't moved at all!"

Lu Yuan was scratching out notes in the dirt. "Dad, you cultivated every day for more than ten years. Did your Soul Power move?"

Lu Qinghe was struck speechless.

"No," Lu Yuan answered for him. "And it hurt, and your chest felt stuffy. What about now?"

"...It doesn't hurt anymore. And it doesn't feel stuffy."

"That's progress." Lu Yuan lowered his head and continued writing. "Your body got used to doing it wrong. Now we're correcting it. Correcting something is harder than building it from scratch, so we have to take it slowly."

He spoke calmly and reasonably. For some reason, Lu Qinghe's agitation eased a little.

All right, take it slowly.

On the fourth day, they added the thought of a "vortex." It was even harder. Too much force in the thought made his Soul Power sluggish; too little, and he felt nothing. Lu Qinghe strained until the veins on his forehead throbbed.

The fifth day and the sixth day were no different.

Their progress was minuscule. The bottleneck was like a lump of iron, welded fast.

Lin Xiu could no longer hide her worry.

On the sixth evening, while Lu Qinghe soaked his feet, she spoke softly. "Little Yuan's father... why don't you give it up?"

Lu Qinghe said nothing.

"Little Yuan means well." Lin Xiu lowered her voice further. "But you've worn yourself out these past few days. That method... it looks awfully mysterious to me." Her eyes reddened a little. "Let's accept our fate. Raising Little Yuan well is better than anything else. Stop putting yourself through this."

Lu Qinghe stared at the water sloshing in the basin. He suddenly remembered the diagram of Soul Power circulation his son had drawn. It had been so complex and clear.

Where did this child learn that?

And there was that look in his eyes. Not like a child's, but like an accountant's, frighteningly calm.

He lifted his dripping feet and set them on the footcloth.

"One more day," he said hoarsely.

Lin Xiu sighed, picked up the basin, and went out.

On the evening of the seventh day, nothing was different.

The light of the setting sun faded. Lu Qinghe sat down, closed his eyes, and breathed steadily. Six days of repetition had become a habit. The warm current of Soul Power circulated slowly as he gently placed the thought of "spinning" before the bottleneck node.

Very gently, like a feather.

There had been no response for the past six days. Today would probably be the same. Forget it. I won't practice tomorrow...

The thought had barely formed.

Suddenly.

The instant the warm current of Soul Power touched the thought of "spinning," it trembled ever so slightly.

A pull drew it inward.

Like water passing through a small vortex, it was gently swept around half a turn, and then-

It flowed the tiniest bit faster.

As the Soul Power current, drawn together and accelerated, passed through the bottleneck node that had remained unmoved for fifteen years, there came a sound so faint it was almost inaudible...

"Crack."

Like the first fissure opening in frozen earth.

Lu Qinghe's whole body went rigid.

He opened his eyes.

The light was dim. He stared into the air, pupils dilated, breath suspended.

His right hand began to tremble. The shaking spread from his fingers to his wrist and forearm. He raised the callused hand and looked at it in the dim light.

It was shaking badly.

Lin Xiu called from inside, worry in her voice. "Little Yuan's father? What's wrong?"

Lu Qinghe didn't answer. He slowly turned to look at Lu Yuan beside the vegetable beds.

The child had his back to the light, and his face was indistinct. Only his eyes shone startlingly bright in the dusk.

Lu Qinghe opened his mouth, a hoarse rasp coming from his throat. After a long while, he finally forced out a broken, trembling sentence:

"Just... just now..."

Lu Yuan came over, crouched down, and tilted his face up.

"Did you feel it?"

Lu Qinghe nodded emphatically, bobbing his head urgently and rapidly. He wanted to speak of that crack, of that pull, of fifteen years... Every word stuck in his throat, turning into hurried gasps and the scalding wetness welling up in his eyes.

He raised a trembling hand and rubbed his face hard.

Lu Yuan said nothing. He reached out a small hand and gently pressed the back of his father's rough hand.

Then he turned to the densely packed symbols in the dirt and neatly scratched the mark for the seventh day beneath them.

Beside it, he added two characters.

"Initial proof."

The night breeze swept through the backyard, carrying a chill. Scattered lights came on in the distant town.

This glimmer, struggling to emerge from the most barren soil, finally illuminated the beginning of that long and rugged, yet truly existing road.