"Focus, empty your head and feel the qi flowing inside of you. Do not think of anything else." Han's said, his voice, as well as all other sound, slowly disappearing into the background.
Jon closed his eyes, his breathing slow and steady. Han's hands rested lightly on his shoulder, a conduit for the old cultivator's guidance. At first, there was nothing but darkness and the sound of his own heartbeat.
Then, like a spark in the void, Jon felt it.
A warmth bloomed in his lower abdomen, pulsing gently. It spread outward, tendrils of energy seeping into his muscles and bones.
The sensation was unlike anything he'd experienced before - a living, breathing force within him. Quite different from all his other experiences with qi so far. This was closer, more... intimate.
As Han directed the flow, Jon felt the qi move through his body.
It traveled up his spine like a river, full of warmth and vitality. Each vertebra seemed to loosen and align, years of tension melting away in moments.
The energy branched out, flowing down his arms and into his fingertips. His hands tingled, as if he could reach out and grasp the very essence of the world.
The qi continued its journey, coursing through his legs and into his feet. Jon felt rooted to the earth, yet paradoxically light as air. His muscles relaxed and rejuvenated.
As the energy circulated, Jon's mind cleared.
The worries and fears that had plagued him - his mysterious arrival, his uncertain future - faded away like morning mist. In their place came a profound sense of peace and clarity.
Each breath brought a new wave of tranquility, washing away his troubles.
The qi flowed into his chest, and Jon's heartbeat slowed.
He felt as if he could count each individual beat, each one in perfect harmony with the energy coursing through him.
His lungs expanded, and he breathed deeper than he ever had before. The mountain air seemed to carry new life, filling him with vitality.
As the circulation continued, Jon's awareness deepened. Suddenly, he understood what Han had been trying to explain. His lower dantian wasn't just damaged—it was fundamentally altered.
A new sensation emerged, drawing his focus inexorably inward. At first, it was subtle - a gentle tug at the edges of his perception. But as he probed deeper, the pull intensified.
Jon's breath caught in his throat.
This wasn't the nurturing warmth he'd expected. Instead, he felt a yawning chasm at his core, vast and impossibly deep. The qi around it didn't flow - it spiraled, drawn into a vortex of energy that defied comprehension.
A chill ran down Jon's spine. This was his lower dantian, but it was nothing like what Han had described. It was... strange. The very nature of it sent shivers through his being.
A memory flashed in Jon's mind - a documentary about black holes he'd seen years ago. The parallel was striking, yet inadequate.
This was more intimate, more immediate. He wasn't observing from a safe distance; he was at the event horizon, teetering on the edge of something that defied the laws of nature as he understood them.
Jon's scientific mind raced, trying to categorize and explain what he was experiencing. But words and formulas fell short. This was beyond physics, beyond reason. It was like staring into the face of infinity itself.
The enormity of it all began to overwhelm him.
Jon felt small, insignificant in the face of the cosmic anomaly residing within him. Yet at the same time, he felt a connection to something vast and unknowable.
His heart raced, sweat beading on his brow. The more he tried to understand, to quantify, the more the concept slipped away from him. It was too much, too alien for his human mind to grasp.
Panic set in. This thing was inside him, a part of him.
The implications were too enormous to contemplate. What did it mean? What could it do? What could he do with such power?
The questions piled up, each more dizzying than the last. Jon's focus wavered, his mind reeling from the encounter with the incomprehensible. With a gasp, his eyes snapped open, breaking his meditative state.
His heart raced, and for a few seconds, the world around him was a blur. He blinked rapidly, his mind struggling to bridge the gap between the cosmic experience within and the physical reality without.
As his vision cleared, Jon realized something was off. The warm morning light he expected was gone, replaced by the soft glow of moonlight. Stars twinkled in the night sky above, and a cool breeze rustled through the leaves.
"What the..." Jon muttered, his brow furrowing in confusion. He glanced around, trying to make sense of the sudden change. It had felt like mere minutes since they'd started, yet clearly, hours had passed.
A memory stirred in Jon's mind - tales of cultivators in novels meditating for days on end. He'd always thought it was an exaggeration, but now... He shook his head, marveling at how easily time had slipped away.
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But the passage of time wasn't the most pressing issue. The memory of what he'd experienced in meditation came rushing back, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Gramps!" Jon called out, his voice urgent. He twisted around, searching for the old man in the darkness. "What was that? What did I just—"
His words cut off as his eyes finally found Han. The old cultivator sat perfectly still, his face illuminated by the moonlight. But gone was the usual calm, knowing expression. Instead, Han's eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape. For the first time since they'd met, the old man looked genuinely shocked.
He leaned forward, studying Jon with newfound intensity.
"Fascinating," Han murmured, his voice barely audible. "Truly fascinating. I've underestimated the depth of your condition..."
The old cultivator's hands clenched and unclenched, betraying his usual stoic demeanor. His gaze swept across the moonlit clearing, as if seeking answers from the ancient trees surrounding them.
"In my thousands of years as a cultivator," Han continued, his tone low and measured, "I've witnessed marvels beyond mortal comprehension. But this..." He shook his head, a hint of wonder creeping into his gruff voice. "This is something I never thought I'd encounter."
Jon nodded, his own heart pounding. The memory of that cosmic void within him lingered, both terrifying and awe-inspiring. "It's not normal, is it? Even for cultivators?"
Han snorted, a wry twist to his lips. "Normal? No, boy. This is far from normal."
Silence descended upon the clearing. The night breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying the scent of pine. Han's eyes grew distant, lost in contemplation. Then, with sudden clarity, he fixed Jon with a piercing stare.
"I will train you," Han declared. "You'll learn the basics of cultivation. I'll impart my knowledge, and we'll see just how far you can go."
There was no smile on Han's face, but his eyes gleamed with an intensity Jon had never seen before. The old man's excitement was palpable, filling the air with an electric charge.
"You'll teach me?" Jon asked, leaning forward. "After what I felt... I need to understand it. I was hoping you'd offer."
After their exchange, Jon and Han nodded at each other, the weight of their new relationship settling between them. The night air seemed to pause, as if acknowledging the moment.
Jon cleared his throat. "So... I'm your disciple now?"
Han grunted an affirmation, his expression unchanged.
"Just like that?" Jon pressed, his brow furrowing.
Han raised a bushy eyebrow. "Why would there be more than that?"
Jon shifted on the grass, leaves crunching beneath him. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. "I don't know, Gramps. I thought it would be a little more... you know?"
"No, I don't," Han replied flatly, crossing his arms.
Jon sighed, gesturing vaguely with his hands. "In the novels I read back in my world, there's always... I don't know, a cup of wine? Or the disciple bows or something? Just more solemn and official, not like 'be my student' and me saying 'sure.' You know?"
Han stared at Jon for a long moment, his face impassive in the moonlight. Then he snorted, shaking his head. "Boy, if you want to kowtow and pour me wine, I won't stop you. But I've taken you as my disciple. That's all there is to it."
Jon opened his mouth, then closed it, looking sheepish. "Right," he said finally, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I guess that's that, then."
As the amusement of their impromptu ceremony faded, Han's eyes narrowed with curiosity. "So, you have novels about cultivators in your home world?"
Jon nodded, leaning back on his hands. The cool grass tickled his palms. "Yeah, we call them xianxia novels. They're pretty popular."
Han grunted, encouraging Jon to continue.
"It's wild, Gramps. All this," Jon gestured broadly at the moonlit clearing and the forest beyond, "is just fiction where I'm from. Cultivation, qi, immortal realms - it's all made up. People read about it for fun."
The old cultivator's bushy eyebrows rose. "Interesting. Samuel never mentioned that."
Jon opened his mouth to respond, but Han suddenly held up a hand, his body tensing. The night seemed to grow still, the usual chorus of crickets falling silent.
"People are coming," Han said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jon's ears perked up, catching the soft crunch of approaching footsteps. A rhythmic tapping accompanied them. He turned to Han, eyebrows raised in question.
"Wait," Han murmured. "They're not dangerous."
Jon nodded, heart quickening as two figures emerged from the forest shadows. He recognized them instantly – the blind young man and the little girl from the village.
Han crossed his arms, face impassive in the moonlight. The mountain fell silent, save for a gentle breeze rustling the leaves.
The young man stepped forward, a carefree smile spreading across his face. He placed his fist against his palm and bowed slightly. "Good evening to you, Thunder King and Wanderer," he said, voice lilting with an undercurrent of mirth.
Jon blinked, caught off guard.
He glanced at Han, searching for a reaction, but the old cultivator's expression remained unchanged. Thunder King? Wanderer? Which was which? Jon's brow furrowed in confusion.
The little girl stood slightly behind the young man, eyes darting between Han and Jon, clearly bewildered.
The young man gently poked her side, whispering urgently, "Mei, bow to the Thunder King!"
Mei's eyes widened, and she hastily bent forward in an exaggerated bow, nearly toppling over in her enthusiasm.
Jon couldn't help but smile at the scene, his earlier tension melting away. The young man's presence seemed to fill the space with an infectious energy, despite – or perhaps because of – his blindness. He stood tall, utterly at ease in the presence of Han, as if greeting ancient cultivators was an everyday occurrence.
"And to whom do we owe the pleasure of this late-night visit?" Han asked, his gruff voice tinged with curiosity.
The young man's smile widened, and he spread his arms in a theatrical gesture. "Why, to fate itself, of course! The stars aligned, the wind whispered, and here we are."
Jon raised an eyebrow, both amused and intrigued by the newcomer's eccentric demeanor. The little girl tugged on the young man's sleeve, clearly unsure of what to make of the situation.
Han snorted, but Jon noticed the corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly. "I see fate has a sense of humor," the old cultivator muttered.
The young man's smile widened at Han's remark. "Ah, but isn't laughter the best medicine, Thunder King? Even for fate itself!"
Han's eyes narrowed. "Why are you here? And how do you know of me?"
The young man bowed again, more dramatically this time. "Forgive my rudeness! I am Liang Zhi, and this," he gestured to the little girl, "is my younger sister, Liang Mei."
"Liang...?" Han muttered, his brow furrowing.
Liang Zhi's voice suddenly boomed across the space, startling a nearby owl into flight. "Yes! We are from the Liang Clan of Celestial Phoenix Province, the last two survivors!"
His enthusiasm was jarring, given the tragic nature of his words.
Mei buried her face in her hands, clearly mortified. Jon blinked rapidly, trying to process the young man's bizarre demeanor.
Han studied Liang Zhi for a long moment. "I recall hearing of the patriarch's eldest son losing his sight during training. They said he had visions of the future."
"Correct!" Liang Zhi beamed. "Though I didn't see my clan's fall soon enough. Haha. Hahaha!" He laughed as if sharing an inside joke, causing Jon and Mei to exchange bewildered glances. Han merely scoffed, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"So, you know me. How?" Han pressed.
Liang Zhi's unseeing eyes seemed to sparkle. "I saw you in my visions, Elder!"
Han pondered this, then asked, "And why did you call this young man 'Wanderer'?"
Jon leaned forward, equally curious about the strange title.
Liang Zhi's voice softened, taking on an almost reverent tone. "Ah, because he will one day be known by that name. In the future I've glimpsed." he took a pause, his gaze, or the feeling of it, landed on jon, a knowing smile playing on his lips "The wanderer."