Chapter 21: The First Step

Adrian asked, "So what do I do next?"

Cosmo remained silent for a moment before answering.

"Before you begin, there is something you must master first."

Adrian's brows furrowed slightly, but he remained attentive.

"You have already sensed Qi without a technology and understood its presence, and its flow within your body. However, sensing it is not enough—you must learn to control it, to guide it at will."

Adrian nodded. That much was obvious.

"Most cultivators use breathing techniques to control Qi," Cosmo continued. "They follow precise rhythmic patterns, allowing their breathing to naturally guide the flow of energy within them. This method is efficient, but also a crutch—they rely on the technique rather than their own ability to pull Qi directly."

Cosmo's voice became firmer. "What you will do is different."

Adrian's eyes narrowed.

"You will not use any breathing techniques. You will not rely on an external method to guide the flow of Qi. Instead, you will learn to pull Qi directly with your will."

A moment of silence stretched between them.

"…How much harder will it be?" Adrian asked.

"At least a hundred times more difficult."

Adrian exhaled slowly. That was no small number.

"But if you can do it," Cosmo continued, "you will develop a level of control that others can only dream of. It will be slow, painful, and frustrating—but once you succeed, you will never struggle to control Qi again."

Adrian was silent for a moment before nodding. "Alright. How do I start?"

Cosmo didn't hesitate. "Sit. Close your eyes. Feel the Qi in the air, in your body, in everything around you. Then… pull it."

That was all. No breathing rhythm. No technique. Just raw willpower.

Adrian sat cross-legged, his back straight, eyes closed. The air around him was calm, undisturbed, but within his mind, a storm brewed.

He reached out, trying to grasp the Qi in his surroundings. He could feel it—like mist drifting through the air, like unseen currents flowing beneath the surface. It was there, but it remained untouchable.

He furrowed his brows and focused harder. His mind latched onto the energy, commanding it to move. But it slipped away like water running through his fingers.

An hour passed. Then two.

By the end of the day, he had tried every possible approach he could think of. He had attempted to pull the Qi gently, then forcefully, then with pure willpower—but nothing worked.

His body remained motionless, his expression calm, but frustration gnawed at him from within.

Cosmo, however, gave no words of encouragement. No guidance.

This was something Adrian had to overcome on his own.

The next day began the same way.

Adrian started his practice at sunrise. He sat on the floor, closed his eyes, and tried to pull Qi toward him just by focusing his mind. For hours, nothing happened. By late afternoon, he wondered if he was missing something. He changed his posture, slowed his breathing, and tried again. Still, there was no clear sign that the Qi was responding.

As night fell, Adrian felt his stomach growl. He remembered the special pill he had in his pouch. With a slight shrug, he took one and ate it. It tasted a bit bitter, but it eased his hunger. Then he tried once more to sense the Qi, but the results were the same—no movement, no spark. Still, he refused to let frustration take over. He lay down to sleep, determined to try again the next day.

When morning came, Adrian woke up early and went straight back to training. He tried every idea he could think of: different positions, different ways of breathing, even standing for a while instead of sitting. Yet, he still felt nothing. By noon, he felt a small wave of frustration, but he kept it hidden. He took another pill for lunch and spent the afternoon repeating his attempts. As evening arrived, he realized the day had passed much like the first—no success at all.

Though his mind felt heavy, he reminded himself that giving up now would lead nowhere. He slept that night with a slight frown, but also a quiet resolve to keep trying.

On the third morning, Adrian decided to speak with Cosmo again. "Am I doing something wrong?" he asked, settling into his usual spot.

"No," Cosmo answered. "This path demands patience and trial. If it were simple, I wouldn't have bothered suggesting it to you. Keep going, and trust in your efforts."

Encouraged but still uncertain, Adrian spent the rest of the day repeating the same exercises. He cleared his mind, reached out to the Qi, and waited for any sign of progress. The hours crept by, mirroring the previous days, and once again, he ended the night with no clear improvement.

By the fourth day, Adrian had fallen into a steady routine: wake up, practice sensing Qi, eat a pill when hungry, practice more, and then sleep. Each day felt almost the same. On the fifth day, he realized he was growing more and more anxious. Was his talent not as good as he thought? Why wasn't he making any progress?

Despite these doubts, Adrian refused to give in. He kept telling himself that real cultivation wouldn't come easily. Even though he hadn't sensed the slightest flicker of Qi movement, he believed that each attempt brought him one tiny step closer to success. And so, at the end of the fifth day, he lay down once again, his mind filled with questions, but his heart still set on continuing.

When Adrian woke up on the sixth day, he knew he had to change something in his routine to keep frustration away. After his usual morning practice—which still showed no results—he took breaks by imagining all the places he wanted to visit someday. He pictured tall mountains, hidden valleys, and bustling cities full of unique foods. This daydreaming helped calm his mind before he returned to more hours of training. Despite his efforts, the Qi stayed out of reach, and night fell with no success.

On the seventh day, Adrian used the same strategy. Every time he felt his mind getting tense, he took a moment to think about future adventures. He wondered about tasting rare dishes in distant lands or meeting masters of different arts. These thoughts gave him enough hope to keep trying, but once again, he made no real progress. By night, he still couldn't move the Qi at all.

The next two days followed a similar pattern. Adrian spent his mornings and afternoons in focused practice, trying new angles and slight changes in posture. He took short breaks to let his mind rest and to remind himself why he was on this path. But nothing changed. The Qi remained silent, and he went to bed both nights feeling the same flicker of disappointment.

By the tenth day, the routine felt almost normal to him. He woke up, trained, took a pill when hungry, and allowed himself short moments to imagine the future. On the eleventh day, he felt a spike of frustration as he realized he still hadn't sensed any progress. Even so, he refused to let doubt take over. He pushed aside his worries and kept practicing.

Over the next three days, Adrian tried his best not to think about his lack of results. He repeated Cosmo's words in his mind: if it were easy, everyone would do it. That reminder helped him stay calm, even when he ended each day with the same outcome: no movement of Qi, just endless attempts and quiet resolve.

On the fifteenth day, Adrian began his training like usual, never expecting anything different. Yet, in the late afternoon, as he focused harder than ever before, he felt a small spark. It was a faint shift in the energy around him, just enough to prove he could guide it the tiniest bit. He didn't jump or shout, but inside, he felt a surge of relief and excitement. It wasn't a full breakthrough—he couldn't actually control the Qi yet—but it was a start. And for Adrian, that small success was more than enough to keep him going.

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