Chapter 41

Paranoia

The library's silence enveloped Jon like a thick blanket, broken only by the occasional creak of old wood settling. Dust motes danced in the shafts of afternoon sunlight that filtered through the high windows, lending an almost ethereal quality to the scene. It might have been peaceful, if not for the storm raging in Jon's mind.

He sat motionless in a high-backed chair, staring blankly at the space between two towering bookshelves. The cultivation manual lay open on his lap, its pages a blur of incomprehensible symbols and diagrams.

"This is bad," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "This is so bad."

Jon forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to approach the situation logically. Okay, let's recap. Demon cultist acupuncture gone wrong, about five or six days ago. He ticked off the points on his fingers. Yet here I am, still breathing, still making terrible jokes. So... yay?

But the relief was short-lived as his mind raced through the possibilities. What if he was just an outlier? What if humans from his world were somehow different, and it just took longer for the whole 'agonizing qi overload' thing to kick in?

His hand unconsciously moved to his abdomen, remembering the pain he'd felt not long ago. It had been centered exactly where the book described the lower dantian. And then there was that morning when he'd woken up feeling like he could run a marathon and bench-press a car.

"An illusion of power," Jon murmured, his eyes locking onto those words in the book once more. He flipped it, scanning the text again, desperate to ensure he hadn't missed some crucial detail.

The surge of qi he'd experienced that very morning flashed through his mind. Was that the "illusion" the manual warned about? The last gasp before everything went to hell?

With a heavy sigh, Jon leaned back in the chair, which creaked ominously under his weight.

He glanced around the empty library, its vastness suddenly oppressive. Row upon row of books stared back at him, each one potentially holding the key to his survival... or just more ways to tell him how screwed he was.

He stood up, stretching muscles that had grown stiff from sitting too long. The movement sent another book tumbling from a nearby stack, landing with a dull thud that echoed through the library.

Jon picked it up, reading the title: "Romance Of The Five Kings Of Retribution."

As he replaced the book, a thought struck him. He'd been operating under the assumption that the manual was infallible. But what if it wasn't? What if, like so many things in this world, the truth was more complicated?

Alright, Jon, he said, straightening his shoulders. Time to stop panicking and start... well, panicking more productively. Step one: Find Yulian. Step two: Get some answers. Step three: Try not to explode in the meantime.

Jon burst into the library's main hall, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. "Yulian!"

Silence answered him.

"Oi! Yulian!"

Still nothing.

He took a deep breath, ready to bellow once more. "Yu-"

"If you scream my name again, I will murder you!" Yulian's voice cut through the air, sharp and irritated.

Jon's head snapped towards the sound, spotting a figure hunched over a desk in a distant corner. He strode over, weaving between towering bookshelves, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.

Yulian sat surrounded by a fortress of open books and scrolls, completely absorbed in her reading. Her mask was slightly askew, revealing a sliver of pale skin beneath. It was the first time Jon saw a flaw in it, but that did not matter right now.

Jon unceremoniously dropped into the chair opposite her. "I need your help."

Without looking up, Yulian flipped a page. "I am not done yet with my reading. Let us talk later."

Jon sighed, leaning forward. "It's urgent."

Yulian's eyes flickered up, the only visible part of her face narrowing in annoyance. "Someone better be dying."

"Well, I think I am dying."

This time, it was Yulian's turn to sigh. "Jon Li, now is not the time to be playi-"

Before she could finish, Jon reached across the table, grabbing her hands. The sudden contact made Yulian stiffen, her deep purple eyes widening behind her mask.

Jon leaned in, his gaze intense and unwavering. Even the shaft of sunlight cutting across his face couldn't make him blink. "I am not playing. I think... I think something's wrong with me."

Yulian seemed taken aback, her eyes darting between Jon's hands clasping hers and his worried expression. She struggled for a moment, clearly thrown off balance by the unexpected physical contact and the intensity of Jon's demeanor.

"W-what do you mean?" she finally managed, her usual composure slipping.

Jon pressed on, oblivious to her discomfort. "You said you touched my body earlier, that's how you found out I could cultivate, right?"

"D-don't put it that way," Yulian stammered, her gaze suddenly shifty. "I just analysed the presence of qi..."

"Yeah, right," Jon waved off the correction impatiently. "What did you find when you analysed it? What was the problem?"

Confusion clouded Yulian's visible features. "Problem? What do you mean?"

Jon's grip on her hands tightened unconsciously, causing Yulian to inhale sharply. He remained oblivious, focused solely on getting answers. "When you checked my qi, did you notice anything... unusual? Anything that might suggest I'm in danger?"

Yulian tried to regain her composure, speaking in the measured tones of a xianxia sage. "Jon Li, one's qi is as unique as the stars in the night sky. What seems unusual to one may be perfectly natural to another. Perhaps if you were to explain-"

Her voice faded as Jon's mind raced, trying to navigate this conversation without revealing too much. He'd already stepped into dangerous territory by lying to Yulian about his "master," and now he had to backpedal without raising more suspicions. He had to adapt.

"Look," he began, running a hand through his hair, "I think my master, the very strong cultivator who raised me and trained me, might have... done something to my body."

Yulian's eyes widened behind her mask, a mix of shock and curiosity evident. "What do you mean?"

Jon winced, realizing how suggestive that sounded. "Shit, my bad, it's not like that." He took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. "He did something with my dantian, the lower one. I felt pain there, as well as in the middle and upper ones yesterday morning, and I don't think it's a good sign."

Yulian leaned forward, her interest clearly piqued. "You... felt pain in the location of all your dantians? Are you saying you had a breakthrough?"

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Confusion clouded Jon's features. "What? No, I... I mean, I don't know about that." He sighed, frustration evident in his voice. Leaning even closer to Yulian, he lowered his voice. "Listen, I just need you to tell me if you noticed anything abnormal with my dantian last time you checked."

Yulian shook her head slightly. "I am not at the Meridian Gates stage yet. I cannot sense others' qi, only the ambient one and my own."

Jon's brow furrowed, his confusion deepening. It was like trying to play chess without knowing the rules. He ran a hand over his face as he let go of Yulian's hands, feeling the stress building up behind his eyes. "Okay," he said finally, "just talk to me like someone who knows nothing about cultivation, yeah? Tell me. How were you able to tell I have qi if you couldn't sense it in me?"

Yulian straightened, her usual expression back on her face, she cleared her throat and adopted the tone of a lecturer. "Very well. The cultivator's body is fundamentally different from that of ordinary individuals. When I examined you, I wasn't sensing qi directly, but rather observing its effects on your physiology."

Jon nodded, encouraging her to continue. His analytical mind latched onto every word, desperate for something concrete to work with.

"There are specific points on the body," Yulian explained, her fingers tracing invisible lines in the air, "where the presence of qi manifests in subtle ways. The tone of certain muscles, the pressure in specific veins, even the temperature of the skin can indicate the flow of qi."

Jon's eyebrows rose. "So it's like... qi acupuncture?"

Yulian tilted her head, considering. "That's... not entirely inaccurate. By pressing these points in a specific sequence, one can discern the presence and rough quantity of qi in a person's body."

"Huh," Jon mused.

Yulian continued. "The dantians, being focal points of qi, have the most pronounced effects. When I examined you, the response at these points was... unusual."

Jon leaned forward, his heart rate picking up. "Unusual how?"

"It was... stronger than I would expect for someone untrained in cultivation. But also..." she paused, searching for the right words, "unstable. Like a river swollen with spring melt, powerful but unpredictable."

Jon's mind whirled with the implications. He'd been hoping for reassurance, but this only confirmed his fears. His fingers drummed nervously on the table, a staccato rhythm that matched his racing thoughts.

"So," he said slowly, "you're saying my qi is like a flood about to break through a dam?"

Yulian shook her head. "I wouldn't go that far. It's unusual, yes, but not necessarily dangerous. Without more advanced techniques, I can't give you a definitive answer."

Jon slumped back in his chair, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. "Great," he muttered, so I might be a ticking qi bomb, or I might just be really, really good at cultivating. That narrows it down.

Yulian leaned forward, her voice softening slightly. "Jon Li, what aren't you telling me? Why are you so concerned about this?"

For a moment, Jon was tempted to spill everything. But the memory of Yulian's true purpose here held him back. He forced a weak smile. "Just worried about my health, you know? Can't be too careful in this world."

Yulian's eyes narrowed behind her mask as she studied Jon's anxious demeanor. "If you wish, I could give you some elixirs to regulate the flow of your qi?"

Jon's mind raced, weighing the potential benefits against the very real risks. The thought of consuming unknown substances in his current state made his stomach churn. For all he knew, a "super rare qi enhancing pill" could be the final push his body needed to go full supernova.

"Hmm, no thank you," he said, trying to keep his voice casual. Yulian didn't press the issue, but her silence felt loaded with unasked questions.

A thought struck Jon, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Yulian?"

"Yes?" she responded, her tone guarded.

Jon took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Do you know about any case of forced dantian opening where the person lived?"

Yulian's confusion was palpable "Is that what you think you have?"

Before Jon could formulate a response, she continued, "You would be dead years ago if your dantian had been forcibly opened. It's common knowledge."

"Yeah, I know that, but..." Jon hesitated, aware he was treading on dangerous ground. "Are there no records of anyone who might have survived that? One way or another?"

Yulian fell silent, her brow furrowing in thought. The quiet stretched between them, broken only by the distant chirping of birds outside.

Finally, she spoke. "Now that I think about it, there is one."

Jon's eyes widened, his heart racing. He leaned forward, barely breathing as he waited for Yulian to continue.

"The only individuals who could survive a forcibly opened dantian would be those born with the 'Heavenly Star Shattering Body'."

Jon's mind whirled. Could it be? Was his survival due to some cosmic plot armor? He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

But Yulian wasn't finished. "You do not have such a body, trust me. If you did, your skin would have patterns resembling clouds on it whenever you have intense feelings." Her eyes bored into him, curiosity evident in her gaze. "Has that ever happened to you?"

Jon's fleeting hope deflated like a punctured balloon. "No," he said, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice.

A heavy silence fell between them, filled with unasked questions and half-formed theories. Outside, a gust of wind rustled through the trees, sending a few stray leaves skittering across the library's high windows.

Jon slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. Well, there goes my 'chosen one' theory, he thought, a hint of his usual sarcasm creeping back into his voice. I was hoping for a get-out-of-qi-explosion-free card.

Yulian tilted her head, studying him with renewed interest. "Jon Li, your questions are... specific." Her voice lowered, taking on a cautious tone. "Are you certain there isn't more you wish to tell me?"

Jon met her gaze, acutely aware of the delicate balance he was trying to maintain. He couldn't tell her everything, but he needed help. The question was, how much could he reveal without putting himself at risk?

"Let's just say," he began slowly, choosing his words with care, "that I have reason to believe my... situation... isn't exactly normal. Even by cultivation standards."

A distant rumble of thunder punctuated his words, as if the heavens themselves were acknowledging the weight of his admission. The air in the library seemed to grow thicker for some reason.

The sudden peal of the thunder made Jon flinch, his nerves already frayed from their intense conversation. Yulian glanced out the window, her mask catching the dim light. "I did not think it would rain today. How strange," she mused, her voice barely audible over the growing rumble outside.

Gathering her books and scrolls, Yulian stood. "I have to go make some elixirs. I wanted to talk to you a bit more, ask you some questions, but it seems you are not in a good mental state."

Jon couldn't help but laugh, a short, bitter sound. "You don't say. Well, thank you for your consideration."

Yulian scoffed, turning to leave. As she did, Jon couldn't resist one last jab. "By the way, your mask is falling off a bit. I can see some of your real skin."

The glare Yulian shot him could have curdled milk. She adjusted her mask with a sharp tug before striding out, leaving Jon alone with his thoughts and the growing storm outside.

The library suddenly felt cavernous and oppressive. Jon's eyes darted from shelf to shelf, desperation driving him to seek answers. He pulled book after book, the hours slipping by unnoticed as rain lashed against the windows. The soft glow of the oil lamps he lit up cast long shadows across the room, creating an eerie dance of light and darkness.

Probably six hours, and three hefty tomes later, Jon's eyes burned, and his head throbbed. He'd found nothing concrete, just vague theories and contradictory information. Frustration gnawed at him. Should he just ignore it? Pretend everything was fine?

He reluctantly closed the last book.

He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Well, that was spectacularly unhelpful," he muttered to himself, his voice echoing slightly in the empty library.

Standing up, he stretched, his joints popping in protest after sitting for so long. The rain outside had intensified, drumming steadily against the high windows. Jon glanced at the darkening sky, realizing how late it had gotten.

"Guess I'll have to continue this wild goose chase tomorrow," he grumbled, gathering the books to put them back. As he made his way to the exit, the smell of old parchment and dust gave way to the fresh, earthy scent of rain.

Jon paused at the library's entrance, eyeing the downpour with disdain. "Great. Just great." Taking a deep breath, he stepped out into the deluge, immediately regretting not having an umbrella.

He started to run, his feet splashing through rapidly forming puddles. The cold rain soaked through his clothes, plastering them to his skin. Despite the discomfort, Jon couldn't help but feel a small thrill at the sensation. It was grounding, real, a stark contrast to the mystical theories he'd been drowning in all day.

As he ran, his mind wandered back to his conversation with Yulian and the unsettling revelations about his condition. How convenient, he thought bitterly, that I'm only feeling off now that I know something might be wrong. Talk about the power of suggestion.

The irony wasn't lost on him. He'd been fine - well, as fine as someone with a forcibly opened dantian could be - until Jianyu had pointed out the impossibility of his survival. Now here he was, running through the rain, half expecting to spontaneously combust from qi overload.

Jon shook his head, trying to clear the paranoid thoughts. That's when the first wave of dizziness hit him, causing him to stumble. He slowed his pace, confusion and a tinge of fear creeping in.

"What the-" he gasped, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. This wasn't normal. This wasn't just in his head. Something was very, very wrong.

His heart began to race, pounding against his ribs with alarming intensity. Each step became a monumental effort, his limbs feeling like they were encased in lead. Cold sweat broke out across his skin, mixing with the rain that continued to pour down.

"Is this a joke?" Jon wheezed, his vision blurring around the edges. The world tilted alarmingly, and he felt his knees give way. As he collapsed to the muddy ground, his mind raced. This wasn't psychosomatic. This was real, and it was terrifying.

Through the haze of his fading consciousness, Jon saw a figure approaching. The silhouette was achingly familiar – the stooped posture, the long beard swaying in the wind.

"It's... that old man..." Jon mumbled, his tongue feeling thick and uncooperative.

As darkness closed in around him, the last thing Jon registered was the feel of the cold, wet earth against his cheek and the sound of hurried footsteps splashing through puddles. Then, like a candle being snuffed out, his world went black.