“I greet the Immortal,” Jin cried out in a voice quavering with emotion. Despite only existing as a consciousness within the strange space of the black stone, his voice carried the same reverent tone as though he was physically kneeling on the ground.

No one answered him.

Jin maintained a respectful silence, but anxiety was beginning to take hold of him. The last time he found himself in this place, he fled at the sound of the mysterious voice speaking in the Immortal tongue. It was a natural reaction, but now he worried if he had inadvertently offended the owner of this space.

When several minutes had passed and he still didn’t hear an answer, nor see any sign acknowledging his presence, Jin mustered his courage and raised his voice again.

“Forgive this lowly one for causing offence,” he said humbly, hoping to appease the being inhabiting this space. “I was simply frightened by the majestic aura of your distinguished presence.”

Nothing.

The enduring silence seemed to condemn him. Jin felt the first prickling of panic creep into his mind. He wasn’t afraid of being trapped. He sensed that this space was open to him, allowing him to enter and leave its confines at will. He worried about something far more consequential.

This had been his one true chance to alter his fate! To come into contact with the hidden mysteries of the Immortal Path! An opportunity that would have been completely unthinkable even a month ago. If his previous timidity had already caused him to miss this chance, he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life.

If he even had much of a life to speak of.

Jin couldn’t even begin to imagine the merchant’s reaction if he returned and confessed that he had offended the great being inside the black stone…

Determination surged within him. He wouldn’t allow this opportunity to escape from him.

He mentally rose from his feet and declared in a resounding voice, “I am Jin Sou! I wish to learn about qi manipulation!”

The void stirred.

Before Jin could even gasp with shock, something materialised in front of him. It was a single strand of qi. It floated suspended in mid-air alongside a large golden ring.

The enigmatic owner of this place spoke again. It was a longer speech, continuing for several minutes. Unfortunately, just like before, Jin couldn’t understand a word.

A wave of relief that he hadn’t been dismissed washed over him. He fought back his instinct to drop on the ground and mentally kowtow. Even if he couldn’t decipher the meaning of the message, one thing was clear. He needed to comport himself with the dignity expected of an Immortal if he wanted to receive the corresponding guidance.

With that in mind, Jin humbly bowed his head as a sign of gratitude. It wasn't a servile gesture, but rather that of a student who appreciates their senior's guidance.

“I thank you for your teachings.”

The voice didn’t answer, but Jin didn’t mind the aloofness. Now that he knew he didn’t waste his chance, his spirits lifted once more.

The magnitude of the situation was not lost on him. He, a lowly slave, meditating on a filthy cot in one of the mine’s tunnels, was actually in the midst of receiving guidance from a magical treasure! It was something that probably never happened before in the mine’s centuries-long history.

The lonely strand of qi floated in the empty space. Jin studied it curiously. Even this was something new. Normally, he had limited awareness of the spiritual energies existing outside his meridian pathways.

He could tell when an environment was brimming with energy - the air in the camps where they learnt the severed mantra seemed to shimmer, so high was the concentration of qi there - but he couldn’t actually observe it.

The only qi he had direct access to was the one that manifested within his dantian during meditation, which he could then gradually manipulate and circulate through his meridians.

The sight of a solitary strand of qi existing independently in space was an entirely new experience for him.

With a gentle nudge of his mind, he reached out to it, and to his surprise, it seemed to have been waiting for him. Instantly, a connection was formed, and the small wisp of qi submitted itself to his command.

Controlling it was proving more difficult.

Jin despaired as the little wisp of qi darted all over the place like a frenzied hornet. He had thought to simply nudge it a little bit, seeing how it would behave, but what he had intended as a gentle prod, had sent the tiny ball of energy on a flying rampage.

It wasn’t moving on its own. Its every sudden turn and twist was a direct response to Jin's commands, but it seemed as if his requests were amplified a thousand times over. A simple instruction to turn slightly left would result in the wisp of qi abruptly careening with the impetus of a charging chariot.

Even the size of the space they were in was revealed, as at some point, the wisp of qi flew so far away, it ended up ricocheting off the boundary.

His past experiences with circulating spiritual energies proved to be entirely useless in this new situation. Unlike before, where qi was constrained by the channels it flowed through, the wisp of qi was now free-roaming. His usual methods of keeping it on track no longer applied.

Luckily, the qi still responded to the most basic command. Ordering it to stop was immediately effective, giving Jin ample opportunities to start from scratch, working towards a method of interacting with it that would allow him some control.

Some time later, the little wisp of qi seemed pacified. It circled around Jin in a jerky, unsteady orbit, moving with all the grace of a butterfly suffering from morbid obesity.

It was as much of an improvement as he could hope to achieve in this session. Controlling the wisp of qi didn’t just come down to attenuating his commands to the point where he was barely thinking them at all.

It seemed to utilise a muscle that he had never trained before. By this point, he was exhausted, with a headache creeping in - an unprecedented sensation during a meditative trance.

Still, looking at the laboriously floating ball of qi, Jin felt a surge of pride and accomplishment. This was a skill he had never attempted before, and one he had never even heard of until now. It was knowledge that only the Immortal cultivators possessed, part of the true teachings jealously protected by the Sect!

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He even had a suspicion about the true purpose of this exercise. He knew that True Immortals, cultivators who had awakened their Immortal Sigil, were able to manifest their qi outside their bodies and wield it in mystical arts, granting them incredible powers. What he was doing now was likely an essential part of that process.

Fighting exhaustion, Jin ordered the wisp of qi to follow along the golden ring which floated in the centre of the space he was in.

His control was still too lacking to trace it accurately. The qi moved in a haphazard, snaking pattern, as if it was a drunkard stumbling across wooden posts in a darkened alley. Nevertheless, his improvement was undeniable.

He was all but ready to exit the space of the black stone, but he wanted to test out just one thing.

Studying the golden ring, Jin had discovered that it was not a perfect circle. It looked as if there were two tiny beads lodged inside it. The way they glowed with a soft light, made him think of his own meridians.

With an idea blooming in his mind, Jin set out to send the wisp of qi into one of these meridian-like beads. It took some trying, both the ball of qi and the target on the ring were small, but he finally succeeded.

With a gentle hum, the wisp of energy slinked into the glowing bead and started to weave around the loop.

Jin watched it curiously, gratified that his guess proved correct.

It really looks like an extremely simplified meridian pathway…

Abruptly, the space within the black stone started to stir again. The loop with the wisp of qi disappeared, replaced by a far more complicated structure.

It was a golden diagram. Some of it was formed of straight lines and geometric shapes, like rosetting triangles and concentric circles, while other segments were oddly twisted, making one think of vines growing from under the fallen tree.

The number of meridian-like nodes increased threefold. They lit up one by one, as the emotionless voice rang out again, elucidating something in words that were outside of Jin’s understanding.

Staring at the diagram left him with a sense of wonder. Rather than being daunted by its complexity, he felt a renewed eagerness to delve deeper into its secrets.

Still, he couldn’t fight his exhaustion any longer. His eyes lingered longingly on the golden structure that seemed to lay bare all the secrets of cultivation, but the throbbing headache he was experiencing was growing too intense to ignore.

Finally, he tore his eyes from the diagram and addressed the existence lurking in the black stone. “Thank you for your guidance. I will return,” he said, mentally bowing his head in gratitude. Even if he couldn’t understand the words, the preciousness of the opportunity he had been granted was clear in his heart.

In the next moment, he was back in his room.

When he opened his eyes, he discovered Hao and Bizu watching him with suspicion.

Seeing that Jin had woken up from his trance, the snot nosed boy stirred and opened his mouth to speak, but Hao beat him to the punch. “Did you succeed in grasping the meaning you were searching for?” he asked in a carefully neutral tone.

Jin looked back at him, momentarily unsure of what the boy was talking about. Only a moment later he remembered the excuse he had used to shift their attention from the black stone in his hand.

“Yes, I got it…” he muttered, somewhat unconvincingly. What felt like a dull ache when he meditated, transformed into a full-blown migraine now that he had woken up.

The headache made it doubly difficult to shift his focus from the alluring image of the golden diagram in his mind and concentrate on the conversation at hand.

He frowned, trying to collect his thoughts. “Its meaning is walk, it is the twentieth syllable of our mantra, it comes after—“

“What were you doing with you hand?” Bizu interjected abruptly. Hao groaned and looked away, but didn’t otherwise do anything to stop him.

Jin flinched, taken aback by the unexpected question. At first, he was going to dismiss it. He was already doing them a great favour by sharing his own insights. If he had revealed himself to be hiding something, then they should’ve been smart enough to respect it, and act as if they hadn’t noticed.

Instead, a different idea flashed through his mind - one that could serve to solidify his earlier excuse.

He brought out his hand from under the blanket and showed them the cut on his palm. “The meaning is walk, but its true essence is struggle.” He declared in a grave voice. “It conveys the courage to step on the Immortal Path, the willingness to face the tribulations that follow, the pain that cuts deep.”

When he saw the awestruck expression on the boys’ faces, he struggled to suppress a grin from rising on his lips.

Hao stared at his missing finger, muttering the words of the cultivation mantra under his breath. Even Bizu was momentarily impressed, but a doubtful look soon appeared on his face. “But you barely feel anything when you’re meditating. How could this help?”

“Then cut deeper,” Jin answered in a flat tone. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t mind even if he was setting the snot-nosed boy on a completely absurd path.

Bizu shot him a suspicious look, but the calm authority in Jin’s gaze seemed to convince him. Still, he wouldn’t do something as desperate as deliberately hurt his hands. Instead, he forcefully pinched a fold of flesh on his thigh and began chanting the cultivation mantra.

Jin smiled and allowed himself to relax. His gaze drifted around the room, when it abruptly froze on a small wooden figurine of a praying monk.

It was the first meeting gift he had received from the blue-robed Immortal who had interrogated him after the “discipline”.

The carving was whittled from light brown wood and stood at the height of his hand. The monk was portrayed in a lotus position, with a pained expression on his face. While it was competently crafted, it was hardly unique - figurines akin to this one could be easily procured from the Upper Pit.

Up to now, Jin had been completely clueless about the significance or intention hiding behind the odd gift. None - was what he had surmised earlier. Now he had a different idea.

Slowly, Jin's fingers curled around the small wooden figurine. What he was about to do was monstrously dangerous. Memories of the terror he had endured at the hands of the blue-robed youth flooded his consciousness, causing his heart to race and his mouth to go dry.

And yet, the temptation was too great.

Now that he had guessed at the figurine’s secret, there was no turning back. He could hold off his curiosity for a day or even a week, but so long as he continued to desire the secrets of the Immortal Path, the day would come when he’d take the plunge.

So why wait?

Walk.

With a sudden jerk, Jin slashed his palm again, allowing his blood to flow freely. He clasped his bloodied hand around the praying monk, staining the figurine red.

His eyes were already shut, his qi accumulating in his right hand meridian.

Jin waited, watching as its radiance gradually expanded, illuminating the normally vacant void surrounding it. He couldn't say if he hoped his theory would prove correct or if he dreaded it.

In the emptiness surrounding his hand meridian, something twinkled.

Jin’s mind went blank. He continued to circulate his qi and watched as the connection between him and the wooden monk was beginning to take form.

There was no excitement in his mind. Only grim and cold terror. He felt as if he was trapped in a nightmare, where an ominous force pulled him in, compelling him to open a door, behind which only something unspeakable could lurk.

Helpless to do otherwise, he sent out a single wisp of qi through the connection.

Nothing happened.

The strand of qi he had sent out vanished into the additional meridian near his hand without any trace.

He waited for any hints of change, but there really was no response. With mounting apprehension, he sent out another strand.

Nothing. The little wisp disappeared as if it had never existed.

This was something he hadn’t expected. Still, somewhat mollified that the wooden monk didn’t seem to pose any immediate danger, Jin tried again, this time sending a larger amount of qi.

Finally, there was a response. The little meridian started to pulse with a dim light, like a flickering candlelight struggling to stay lit.

And then, it started to pull.

Jin was struck by horror as the little meridian sprang to life and began consuming his own qi. He couldn’t stop it. Within a heartbeat, half of the qi he had accumulated in his hand was gone, devoured through the connection with the little meridian. Its hunger grew, and the pull on his qi became stronger with every passing moment.

The mounting terror shattered Jin's trance, jolting him back to reality. With a sudden movement, he flung the wooden figurine across the room as if it was a burning coal.

His breaths came in ragged gasps. The qi in his meridians tittered on the brink of rampage, unable to calm down after a foreign force almost supplanted Jin’s control of it.

The commotion roused Hao and Bizu from their trance, but Jin ignored their questions.

He struggled to his feet and cautiously made his way over to the corner where the figurine had landed. A faint tapping noise, similar to the scratching of a rat inside a wall at night, filled the room.

He approached the figurine and froze, his eyes widening in shock.

The blood soaked monk was dancing.