Two weeks later.

Jon moved to the mountains with Han, posing as his apprentice woodcutter. This arrangement served as a clever disguise for Jon's true purpose: learning to properly flow his qi through his body.

After two full weeks of covert training, Jon's current progress in his qi cultivation stood at...

Zero.

A resounding, almost comically anticlimactic zero.

Jon slouched at his rickety wooden stall in the crowded marketplace, surrounded by neatly stacked bundles of firewood. "Two copper taels for a bundle," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of merchants and shoppers.

His eyes, rimmed with dark circles, scanned the bustling crowd without really seeing.

Old Man Han's relentless training regime consumed his thoughts. Every day, dawn to dusk, except on market day, Jon sat cross-legged, struggling to circulate his qi.

Han's words hung heavy in the air: 'Two to three years for the most promising. You? Three months.'

As Jon mechanically handed over a bundle of wood to a customer, his mind wandered to the revelation that had shocked both him and Han. He had somehow awakened to the second stage of cultivation. Foundation Establishment realm, leapfrogging the Qi Condensation stage entirely.

Foundation Establishment. The realm where qi ceased to be an external force and became an integral part of one's being.

It was the true beginning of a cultivator's journey, where the body underwent a fundamental transformation.

Bones densified, muscles toughened, and internal organs evolved to process qi as naturally as air. A Foundation Establishment cultivator could shatter rocks with a finger, outrun horses, and survive wounds that would fell ten ordinary men.

This realm marked the point where a cultivator irrevocably diverged from the path of mortals.

It was the bedrock upon which all future advancement would be built, the foundation that would determine the height of one's eventual achievements. And Jon had stumbled into it by sheer accident.

He absently rubbed his forehead, recalling Han's words about his unusual starting point. 'Foundation Establishment... explains how you survived that shattered dantian. Just a guess, mind you,' Han had mused, stroking his beard.

Every day, the same routine unfolded.

Jon would assume the meditation position, desperately trying to circulate his qi. And there Han would be, perched right in front of him, sipping tea with exaggerated slurps. The old man's eyes would narrow, scrutinizing Jon as if he were some baffling puzzle.

'Hmph,' Han would grunt, the sound cutting through the mountain's silence like a blade. Jon's concentration would waver, his brow furrowing in irritation.

The moment Jon's eyelids so much as fluttered, WHACK! Han's fan would tap his head. 'Focus, boy! A cultivator's mind should be as still as a mountain lake, yet as fluid as a rushing river.'

The tap didn't hurt, but it stung Jon's pride.

He'd clench his jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. What could he do? Challenge the old master to a duel? Ha! He'd end up as kindling for the next day's market.

So for two weeks, Jon stewed in his frustration, caught between Han's enigmatic grumbles and pseudo-profound sayings.

It was enough to make him wonder if cultivation was just an elaborate form of torture disguised as enlightenment.

A customer approached, snapping Jon back to reality.

As he handed over a bundle of wood, his muscles ached with a familiar, bone-deep weariness.

Han's idea of 'taking it seriously' meant pushing beyond all conceivable limits. Sleep was a luxury. Food, a distraction. Every waking moment was devoted to the maddening task of willing his qi to move.

"You look awful."

A familiar voice cut through the market's clamor. Jon glanced up to see Yulian standing before his stall, her eyebrow arched in curiosity.

Jon scoffed, the sound rough and low. "Nice to see you too, Yulian."

"Hmm." She leaned in, studying the dark circles under his eyes. "Is woodcutting really that hard? I thought someone like you would find it easy."

"It's... more challenging than you'd imagine," Jon replied, a wry smile tugging at his lips. He left it at that, his hands absently running over the grain of a nearby log.

Yulian studied him for a moment, her keen eyes taking in his slumped shoulders and the tension in his jaw. "You have a lot of fatigue," she observed, her tone matter-of-fact.

"You don't say," Jon drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Without missing a beat, Yulian reached into her bag and pulled out a small ceramic bottle. The intricate designs etched on its surface caught the sunlight, creating a dance of shadows across its smooth contours.

"Here," she said, holding out the bottle. "Drink this and take a breath."

Jon blinked, caught off guard by her sudden gesture.

"It's a tonic of ginseng, longan fruit, and snow lotus," Yulian explained, her voice taking on a hint of pride. "With spirit honey for sweetness. Ice-cold, too."

The one Qingshan talked about. Jon thought.

As she spoke, a sweet, fragrant aroma wafted from the bottle, tantalizing Jon's senses. He took the ceramic container, surprise evident in his eyes. The cool surface pressed against his palm, a stark contrast to the day's heat.

"I... thank you, Yulian," Jon said, his voice softer than before. "That's... unexpected."

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

But as he held the bottle, a flicker of suspicion crossed his features. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Yulian, her expression unreadable beneath her usual composed demeanor.

"What do you want?" Jon asked, his voice low and guarded, the bottle still unopened in his hand.

Yulian's eyes widened slightly at Jon's suspicion, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. In one swift motion, she snatched the bottle from his hand, opened it, and took a long swig.

"There," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm not looking for anything, and I certainly wouldn't poison you. Though I'm flattered you think I'm that devious." Her lips curled into a teasing smirk. "I just genuinely pity you in this... state."

Jon couldn't help but laugh, the sound genuine this time. He realized that in the past two weeks, despite seeing her twice, Yulian hadn't pried into his affairs. It was a refreshing change, though he wasn't about to complain about it.

Yulian handed the bottle back to him, half of its contents gone. "You should try it. It might actually help."

Jon hesitated for a moment, then brought the bottle to his lips. The liquid was cool and sweet, with a complex blend of flavors that danced across his tongue. It reminded him of ginger ale, minus the bubbles, but with an added depth that he couldn't quite place.

As he swallowed, a coldness spread through his chest, radiating outward to his limbs. The fog of exhaustion that had clouded his mind began to lift, replaced by a surprising clarity.

"This is... good," Jon admitted, taking another sip. He could feel energy seeping back into his muscles, the weight of fatigue lifting from his shoulders.

Yulian watched him with satisfaction. "Told you. It's not just some snake oil remedy."

*****

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Jon found himself lingering in Yulian's company. Their conversation flowed easily, punctuated by moments of comfortable silence. It was a welcome respite from the grueling routine he'd fallen into.

But as the market began to wind down, reality crept back in. Jon gathered the remaining wood, his movements deliberate and measured. The anxiety of another session with Han settled in his gut like a heavy stone.

As he made his way up the mountain path, with Yulian behind him, his mind raced.

He'd been meticulously documenting everything he learned about qi circulation, every sensation, every minute detail. The engineer in him craved structure, yearned to make sense of this mystical energy that defied his previous understanding of the world.

He could feel the qi in his lower dantian, a warm, pulsing energy. But moving it to the middle and upper dantians, let alone through the meridians, remained frustratingly out of reach.

Tonight, though, Jon had a plan.

He'd noticed patterns in his training, correlations between his breath, heartbeat, and the subtle shifts in qi. It reminded him of fluid dynamics, the way energy flowed and transformed.

His new method involved visualizing his body as a complex system of interconnected channels.

He'd map out the meridians like a circuit diagram, treating qi as a form of electric current. By applying principles of conductivity and resistance, he hoped to find the optimal pathways for qi flow.

Jon had also observed that certain emotional states seemed to affect his qi. He planned to incorporate this, treating his mental state as a variable in the equation.

"Jon! Yulian! What a delightful surprise!"

A familiar voice cut through the evening air like a knife, causing Jon to wince.

He turned to see Liang Zhi, the blind young man he'd privately dubbed "the fraud," sauntering towards them with a wide grin. Despite the cloth covering his eyes, Liang Zhi moved with an ease that belied his lack of sight.

Beside him walked his sister Liang Mei, her steps measured and careful. Her eyes darted between her brother and the approaching pair, exasperation in her gaze.

"I'm sorry about my brother's shouting," Liang Mei said softly, bowing slightly. "He forgets himself sometimes."

Jon noticed the curious glances from passersby, some pausing in their evening routines to watch the interaction. He gritted his teeth, forcing a nod. "Liang Zhi, Liang Mei."

Yulian offered a small smile. "Good evening, both of you."

Liang Zhi's grin widened impossibly further. "Ah, the dulcet tones of Yulian! This evening just keeps getting better." He turned his head towards Jon, his unseeing eyes somehow finding their mark. "So, Jon, my friend! How was the market today? Sell much firewood? I bet you're becoming quite the merchant!"

Jon shifted the bundles on his back, his jaw clenching. "It was fine."

"Just fine?" Liang Zhi pressed, leaning in conspiratorially. "Surely there must be more to tell. Any interesting customers? Perhaps a hidden cultivator disguised as a humble farmer?"

Mei tugged gently at her brother's sleeve. "Zhi, maybe we shouldn't pry—"

"Nonsense, Mei!" Liang Zhi waved off her concern. "I'm sure Jon here has all sorts of fascinating tales. Don't you, Jon?"

Jon exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. "Look, I need to get going. It's been a long day, and I—"

"But the night is young!" Liang Zhi interrupted, spreading his arms wide.

The motion caused his loose sleeves to billow, revealing glimpses of intricate tattoos on his forearms. "Surely you can spare a few moments for old friends? I've been working on a new divination technique. How about a quick reading? I could tell you what the future holds for your... woodcutting career."

Jon's eyebrows furrowed as he shrugged off Liang Zhi's reaching hand. "Old friends? Dude, we've known each other for like, two weeks."

Liang Zhi's face lit up with unbridled enthusiasm. "Well, you've known me for two weeks, I've known you for years!"

A heavy sigh escaped Jon's lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "There we go again," he muttered, his voice tinged with exasperation.

Yulian's eyes darted between Jon and Liang Zhi, her usual composure giving way to confusion. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice low and cautious.

Jon turned to Yulian, resigned. "This young fraud here," he said, gesturing nonchalantly at Liang Zhi, "claims he can see the future. And in that future, apparently, he and I are like, best buds."

Liang Zhi's grin widened, if that was even possible. "Sworn brothers, actually," he corrected, raising a finger. He seemed to look into the distance as his mind drifted. "Though, that doesn't happen until... I think a few years from now."

"Right," Jon drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The weight of the firewood on his back seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment.

Liang Mei stood silently, her eyes downcast, a faint blush coloring her cheeks at her brother's antics. Jon's gaze softened slightly as he looked at her.

"Good night, Mei," he said, his tone gentler. "And... my sympathies for having to deal with him." He jerked his thumb towards Liang Zhi.

Mei's eyes widened slightly, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Thank you," she murmured, barely audible.

Jon turned to leave, his muscles aching for the climb ahead. But before he could take a step, Liang Zhi's hand shot out, gripping his shoulder with surprising strength.

"Not now," Liang Zhi said, his voice suddenly losing its carefree lilt. "A major event is about to begin."

Jon's jaw clenched, his patience finally snapping. He shrugged Liang Zhi's hand off his shoulder with a forceful motion. "Take your hands off me," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not in the mood for your games, Zhi. I'm actually quite angry right now."

Instead of backing away, Liang Zhi's smile only widened, a gleam of excitement visible beneath his blindfold. "How convenient," he said, his tone light and almost gleeful. "I'm about to give you the opportunity to channel that anger onto someone's face."

Yulian stepped closer to Jon, her brow furrowed with concern. "Jon, perhaps we should—"

Mei reached out tentatively towards her brother. "Zhi, I think we've bothered them enough—"

Their words were cut short as confusion rippled through the group. Jon and Yulian exchanged puzzled glances, while Mei's hand froze midair. Even Liang Zhi's perpetual grin faltered for a moment.

The evening air, previously filled with the usual sounds of Zhilan winding down for the night, suddenly seemed to hold its breath. In that tense silence, a scream pierced the air – high-pitched, terrified, and unmistakably female.

Jon's head snapped towards the sound, his body instinctively tensing. Yulian's hand flew to her concealed dagger, her eyes scanning the darkening street. Mei gasped, shrinking back behind her brother.

Liang Zhi, however, seemed to come alive. He cocked his head, listening intently, then pointed down the street. "It's coming this way," he announced, his voice thrumming with an almost inappropriate excitement.

The scream came again, closer this time. The sound of running footsteps accompanied it, growing louder with each passing second. Around them, doors slammed shut as curious onlookers retreated to the safety of their homes.

Jon's anger at Liang Zhi momentarily forgotten. Yulian flanked him, her posture coiled and ready for action.

"Zhi," Mei whispered, clutching her brother's arm. "What's happening?"

Liang Zhi's grin returned full force. "The event I mentioned," he said, turning his blindfolded gaze towards Jon. "The very first step towards your legend!"