The space portal closed behind Yi Lian with a soft hum, leaving him in the heart of a rugged, untamed mountain range. Towering trees surrounded him, their branches weaving together to form a thick canopy that blocked out most of the sunlight. The air was heavy and damp, filled with the rustle of leaves and distant cries of beasts hidden deep in the wilderness. Unlike the peaceful village he had just left, this forest was ruled by raw survival and primal instincts.

The damp earth clung to his boots, and the distant growls of unseen creatures reverberated like a low warning through the trees. A strange sense of nostalgia washed over Yi Lian as he stood there, taking in the wild beauty around him. It reminded him of the trial he had barely survived, the memories still fresh in his mind. His body carried the scars of that experience—some visible, others hidden deep within.

But there was no time to dwell on the past. He scanned the area, wary of what might be lurking in the shadows. Eventually, he found a large tree with sturdy roots twisting out of the ground like protective arms. The cover felt rough and uneven, but it was the safest place he could find for now. He leaned against the bark with a sigh and pulled out the ancient book that had guided him so far.

The cover felt warm, almost alive, as if it were waiting for him. With a deep breath, Yi Lian opened it. The familiar scent of aged paper filled his nostrils. The text on the newly revealed page pulsed faintly with power.

"Even if you are the Guardian, only if you are worthy will the book reveal its knowledge."

His brow furrowed as he turned the page. His heart skipped a beat.

"To prove your will and worthiness, you must endure. Live without food for 108 days. Many believe they will die, but there is a way: meditate using the technique described on the following page. If you survive, you will pass. Alternatively, you may meditate for one full year with sustenance."

108 days without food? Yi Lian's chest tightened.

A fierce debate erupted in his mind.

"Was it worth risking death just to complete the process faster?"

The first option promised rapid results but could kill him. The second option was safer, but time-consuming. He remembered the dangers of the Void Cult and the suffering of the villagers. He clenched his fists.

"I can't sit here and contemplate forever. I have to do what's best, no matter the risk."

Determined, Yi Lian turned the page again. His eyes fell on a detailed description of Pranayama—the art of breath and energy control.

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It wasn't just about breathing. It was about how a single breath could change life itself.

Curious, he decided to experience it for himself. Following the instructions, he sat cross-legged at the base of the tree and began the practice.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

At first, it seemed almost too easy. His breath flowed smoothly, his mind calm. He focused solely on his breath, letting go of control, just observing. For a fleeting moment, confidence sparked within him. Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all.

But then the first hour passed.

The dull ache in his stomach grew sharper, gnawing at his insides like a hungry beast. His mind began to wander. Memories of freshly baked bread and steaming bowls of soup flashed before his eyes. His mouth watered.

He clenched his fists again, forcing himself back to his breath.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

Time blurred. The sun began to dip beyond the horizon. When Yi Lian opened his eyes, it was already evening. The warm, golden light bathed the world in an ethereal glow as the sun set behind the mountains.

In that moment, everything looked deeper—more vivid. The leaves shimmered, and the world seemed to breathe with him. A soft breeze brushed against his skin, carrying a strange warmth he hadn't known existed. It was fleeting, like an illusion, yet it left an indelible mark on his soul.

The ache in his stomach faded into the background. His focus sharpened, his senses growing clearer with each breath.

A smile spread across his face.

Without hesitation, he started the breathing exercise again, eager to reclaim that immersive feeling. But no matter how hard he tried, the sensation didn't return.

Frustration bubbled within him. It came once… so why isn't it happening again?

He paused, taking a break. His thoughts churned in search of an answer. What had been different the first time? What had allowed him to feel that moment of profound connection?

He sat in silence, reflecting. Had it been the way I focused? Was it something about my state of mind? Or… was it something I wasn't even aware of?

The more he thought, the clearer it became—he couldn't force it. The feeling had come not from effort, but from surrender. He had simply been present, without expectation or control.

Realization dawned like the first light of dawn.

"Each breath wasn't just a step toward survival—it was a glimpse into something deeper, a power hidden in the stillness of the world around me."

Yi Lian closed his eyes once again, this time not chasing the elusive feeling. He just breathed.The dull ache in his stomach was still there, but it no longer consumed him. It lingered in the background—a reminder of his body's limits—yet something had changed. He accepted the pain, and in that acceptance, he felt his breath within it. The ache and the breath became one, merging into something deeper, something unexplainable. For now, each breath was enough.

But deep within, something stirred—a ripple, faint but growing with every breath. It resonated in places he had never known existed, a subtle shift that could change everything. Unaware of the profound transformation this single breath would ignite, Yi Lian sat in stillness, his trial far from over. The breath that began in pain would one day reshape his very existence.