The air in the Lin family inn was thick with unspoken reverence. The three great powers of Sunflower Town had just witnessed a man who seemed ordinary, yet radiated something they could not define.
Qiao Liang, ever the first to break silence, stepped forward.
"Senior John," he said with a respectful bow, "our town is far too small for your presence. If it pleases you, my manor would be honored to host you. We could prepare the finest courtyard, quiet and secure, befitting your status."
John waved a hand lazily, still chewing on a slice of fruit.
"Nah. Too stuffy. Ruins the experience."
Liang blinked. "Experience?"
"I came here to live a normal cultivation life," John explained, shrugging. "An inn's just fine. Besides, the food's better here."
Ruyin smirked faintly at that, though she hid it behind her sleeve.
The City Lord gave a small sigh, then turned to his son.
"Wen. From today onward, you'll stay here at the Lin inn. Learn what you can, quietly."
"Yes, Father," Wen said quickly, barely able to hide his excitement.
On the side, Fang Heshan tapped his cane and exhaled slowly.
"If only my grandchildren hadn't already entered sects… tch. Too late to plant seeds near the sun."
Ren Huailin's sharp gaze softened with a flicker of regret.
"Indeed. Fortune smiles on those who are present at the right time."
After more pleasantries and courteous words, the three lords finally excused themselves. "Affairs of the clan cannot wait," Heshan muttered. "But this matter…" His eyes darted toward John. "We'll return."
As they left, John stretched lazily in his chair. He flicked his fingers, almost absentmindedly.
A ripple unseen to mortal eyes surged outward, light as a sigh.
The three lords, already turning toward the door, staggered slightly. For an instant, their meridians roared as though molten rivers had burst free. Years—decades—of frustration at the edge of Foundation Establishment cracked like thin ice. Stagnant qi flowed again. Clogged dantian channels loosened.
Heshan's gnarled hand gripped his cane tight, veins trembling. This feeling… impossible!
Huailin's eagle-like gaze flickered with disbelief, but beneath it a wild joy surged. A single flick… and the barrier yields?
Even Qiao Liang, known for his composure, had to clench his jaw to keep from trembling. His entire body pulsed with vitality long forgotten.
None of them dared look back at John. None dared speak.
Their footsteps quickened, and once outside, they parted without another word—each rushing home like desperate men chasing a fleeting dream. By dawn, Sunflower Town would be silent of its leaders, all three deep in seclusion, hearts pounding with a single thought: freedom from the bottleneck.
Now, only John, the Lin family, and Wen remained in the inn.
John plopped down at a table and dropped a pile of bulging sacks.
"Madam Lin, could you whip something up with these? I bought too much junk at the market. Don't let it go to waste."
Ruyin chuckled softly, already peeking inside. "Half of these are rare herbs, Senior. Hardly 'junk.'"
"Eh. Tastes better cooked anyway."
As she bustled off to the kitchen, John rummaged through another bag and handed Xue a glittering hairpin, a silken scarf, and a bracelet that glowed faintly with stored qi.
"Here, kiddo. Don't lose 'em."
Xue squealed, twirling in delight, showing off her treasures. The inn once again felt warm and alive, laughter spilling into the evening.
When night fell, the courtyard was lit by lanterns. Lin Feng and Wen stood side by side, sweat dripping as they practiced the movement technique under John's lazy supervision.
"Your stance is too stiff, Wen. Loosen your shoulders," John called between yawns, crunching into an apple.
"Feng, stop trying to force the qi. Flow with it, don't choke it."
Both boys corrected themselves instantly. Their movements became smoother, more natural.
Wen darted forward, feet barely tapping the ground. Feng mirrored, each step springing like a frog yet gliding like water. Their qi surged in tandem, colliding and dispersing into sparks of pale light.
"Better," John muttered. "But you're both still thinking too much. If your body moves before your mind catches up, then you're getting somewhere."
The boys exchanged grins despite their exhaustion. They didn't fully understand his words, but the feeling in their movements told them he was right. Every correction John gave, no matter how casual, felt like a key unlocking a door they hadn't noticed.
Finally, John waved them over. "Alright, enough jumping around. Sit."
The two boys dropped beside him, still panting. Wen wiped his forehead, while Feng waited in silence, chest rising and falling.
John leaned back, eyes half-lidded, gazing at the stars. His voice was calm, but each word carried weight.
"You've been wondering what makes me strong."
The courtyard stilled. Even the evening breeze seemed to hush, waiting for his next words.
John's lips curled into the faintest of smiles.
"Listen closely. I'll tell you."