Lin Qing woke up to the sound of sweeping.
The rhythmic swish of a broom came from outside his room, accompanied by the faint scent of incense and burnt dust. The air was cool, heavy with the smell of damp stone and smoke. For a moment, he lay there staring at the cracked ceiling, wondering if the nightmare had ended.
It hadn't.
The faint red glow of the cavern torches reminded him exactly where he was — deep inside a demonic sect that thought he was their chosen messiah.
He sat up slowly, hair sticking out in every direction, and sighed. "Still not noodles and rent money. Great."
The door creaked open, and Acolyte Chun poked his head in. The boy's eyes were bright, his grin even brighter. "The Heir awakens! The heavens must have shifted!"
Lin Qing rubbed his face. "Tell the heavens to shift back. Preferably to a world with coffee."
Chun ignored him and bustled in with a tray. "Breakfast, Heir. Porridge with no visible insects, and tea that may not poison you!"
Lin Qing stared at the gray sludge in the bowl. "You say that like it's a miracle."
Chun smiled proudly. "It is."
After forcing down a few cautious spoonfuls, Lin Qing set the bowl aside. His body still ached from the previous day — or rather, from his previous death. But as he stretched, something else drew his attention. A faint warmth pulsed in his lower abdomen. Not pain, not sickness. Something alive.
He pressed a hand to his stomach. "Chun, do you feel… heat inside you when you breathe?"
Chun's broom nearly clattered to the floor. "The Heir feels the inner flame already?! That's qi!"
"Qi," Lin Qing repeated, tasting the word like it was a half-remembered dream. "As in… energy, magic, life force?"
Chun nodded so fast his hair bounced. "Exactly! The foundation of all cultivation! Only those who open their meridians can feel it!"
"Meridians," Lin Qing muttered. "So that's what those diagrams in xianxia novels were about."
Chun tilted his head. "Novels?"
"Never mind. So, what do I do with it?"
"You circulate it," Chun said with reverence, as if describing a sacred ritual. "Draw it through your meridians with breath and will. That's how cultivators strengthen their bodies and souls. It is the path to power."
"Uh-huh," Lin Qing said. "And if I do it wrong?"
"Your organs explode," Chun said cheerfully. "But only sometimes."
Lin Qing stared at him. "…Comforting."
He took a slow breath. The warmth stirred, faint but obedient, like a thread of light moving under his skin.Inhale. Hold. Exhale.It followed the rhythm naturally — from his abdomen up the spine, spreading through his chest and arms before settling again.
The air in the room shifted. The brazier's flame leaned toward him.
Chun's jaw dropped. "The Heir has already begun his first circulation!"
"Or I'm having a stroke," Lin Qing said dryly. But he could feel it — a pulse of something real, something alive. His heartbeat slowed. The air felt clearer, sharper.
He focused again, drawing the warmth upward. It slid along his ribs, through his shoulders, down his arms. The flame bent further, its glow deepening to gold for just a second before returning to red.
Chun gasped. "That's the Mortal Vein Realm! The very first stage of cultivation! Once your meridians harden, you'll advance to Qi Awakening!"
"Hold on," Lin Qing said. "Mortal Vein, Qi Awakening… How many of these things are there?"
Chun held up his fingers and began counting enthusiastically. "Mortal Vein, Qi Awakening, Meridian Forging, Core Bloom, Soul Ascension, Spirit Condensation, Heavenly Gate, and Immortal Foundation!"
Lin Qing blinked. "That's… eight. You people really like stairs."
"They are sacred steps to immortality!"
"Right. Well, I'll settle for step one: not dying."
He took another slow breath. The qi followed his focus again, smoother this time, like water finding a channel.It wasn't dramatic — no thunder, no glowing aura — just calm. Grounded. Real.
He let the energy loop once more, then exhaled. The flame bowed politely.
Chun's voice trembled with awe. "You completed a small cycle."
"A small cycle," Lin Qing repeated. "And how many small cycles make a big one?"
"Nine," Chun said reverently. "That's when the meridian stabilizes."
Lin Qing nodded slowly. "Nine it is."
He tried again. This time, he guided the flow more deliberately, picturing the path the energy should take.In through the nose. Down the chest. Around the spine. Back to the center.
Each rotation smoothed something in him — not just physically, but mentally. Like rinsing static out of his thoughts.
He opened his eyes. The brazier's flame had leaned toward him again.
"I think," he said, "I just invented breathing."
"No," Chun said in awe. "You discovered cultivation."
Lin Qing chuckled. "If all it takes to become a cultivator is controlled breathing, then my yoga instructor back on Earth was a genius."
"Earth?" Chun asked, puzzled.
"Never mind. Long story."
Footsteps echoed down the tunnel. Elder Hei appeared at the doorway, bone mask gleaming faintly in the firelight.
"The Heir is awake," Elder Hei said, voice calm and precise. "Good. The Saintess requests your presence at dusk. The elders wish to witness your miracle again."
Lin Qing blinked. "Miracle?"
"The Heaven Piercing Fist of Eternal Suffering," Elder Hei said. "The disciples await your guidance."
Ah, yes. That. The technique he had completely made up.
"Of course," Lin Qing said smoothly, smiling like a man who had never panicked in his life. "It shall be demonstrated."
Elder Hei bowed. "Excellent. The northern cavern will be prepared."
When the elder left, Chun looked like he was about to explode with excitement. "We're teaching a divine fist!"
Lin Qing collapsed onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling. "I don't even know how to make a regular fist without embarrassing myself."
"You will figure it out," Chun said confidently. "The Heir always does."
Lin Qing groaned. "If I die, bury me under a noodle shop."
He closed his eyes again, forcing himself to focus. The warmth in his belly pulsed, soft and steady. He needed to understand this power — enough to fake being a genius before the entire sect. Maybe even enough to survive.
He took another slow breath, guiding the qi through him one more time. The cycle completed smoothly.No explosions. No vomited blood. Progress.
A small smile touched his lips. "Alright," he whispered. "If breathing makes me stronger, then by sunset I'll be a legend."
The brazier flickered once, as if agreeing.