Qi Gathering

There were no colors. No scenery. But he could feel the network of his meridians pulsing somewhat weakly, three minor channels specifically:

One traced along his back.

One coiled through his chest.

And one wound around his lower abdomen.

They were all sluggish. Dim. Like ancient canals barely touched by water in years, if not centuries.

At the center of them all sat a tiny point deep within his dantian, a void-like core nestled just below his navel. It was pitifully small. Barely holding a pinprick of pale mist within. His Qi.

He was at the Qi Gathering stage, and not even far into it. The truth was humbling. He thought he was ready to begin opening his main twelve meridians, but now that he saw reality with his own two eyes, he knew the old man was right.