Chapter 3 — Ash and Breath
The village woke slowly.
Ye Wuchen had already been awake for two hours.
Inside the small storage shed behind Grandma Yu's house, he sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, palms resting lightly on his knees.
Breath in.
Four counts.
Pause.
Breath out.
The air here was thinner than the Upper Realm had ever been. Mortal qi did not rush toward him. It did not kneel. It did not recognize him.
It drifted.
And so he adapted.
His meridians trembled with each cycle. Fine fractures along his internal channels burned sharply when qi brushed past them.
He did not force it and listened.
The river beyond the houses flowed in steady rhythm. He aligned his breathing to it.
Wuchen decided to go with the flow.
---
A knock came at the shed door.
"Wuchen?" Grandma Yu's voice called.
"Yes, Grandma." Ye Wuchen answered.
The door creaked open.
Grandma Yu stepped inside, carrying a wooden bowl.
"You didn't sleep much," she said, setting the bowl down beside him.
"I rested sufficiently," Ye Wuchen replied.
Grandma Yu snorted.
"You speak like an old scholar."
She pushed the bowl toward him.
"Eat. You won't cultivate on an empty stomach."
He lifted the bowl carefully.
The porridge was simple.
Warm.
Ordinary.
He ate without complaint.
Grandma Yu watched him.
"Zhang Rui's been pacing since dawn," she said. "He says his qi feels different."
"It should," Ye Wuchen answered calmly.
"You aren't worried?" Grandma Yu asked.
"About what?" Ye Wuchen replied
"That he might blame you if something goes wrong." Grandma Yu sigh
Ye Wuchen set the empty bowl down.
"If something goes wrong, it will not be because of correction."
Grandma Yu frowned slightly.
"You talk like everything can be corrected."
Ye Wuchen replied quietly, "Most things can."
She studied him longer than before.
Then she shook her head.
"You're strange, Wuchen."
---
By midday, several villagers had gathered near Grandma Yu's courtyard.
Curiosity was stronger than fear now.
Chen, the broad-shouldered farmer, spoke first.
"Wuchen, you really understand cultivation?"
"I understand breathing," Ye Wuchen replied.
Chen scratched his head.
"That's not the same thing."
"It is," Ye Wuchen said evenly.
A teenage boy stepped forward nervously.
"My name is Liang," the boy said quickly. "Can I cultivate?"
Ye Wuchen turned slightly toward the boy.
"Extend your hand, Liang."
Liang did so eagerly.
Ye Wuchen placed two fingers lightly against the boy's wrist.
Pulse steady.
Meridians thin but clean.
"You can cultivate," Ye Wuchen said.
Liang's voice lifted with excitement.
"Really?"
"Yes," Ye Wuchen answered. "But do not attempt full circulation immediately."
Chen laughed.
"That's what got me coughing blood."
Ye Wuchen turned toward Chen.
"You inhaled deeply before stabilizing your lower dantian."
Chen blinked.
"How do you know that?"
"You still tighten your abdomen when you speak about it," Ye Wuchen replied calmly.
A few villagers chuckled.
Chen rubbed his stomach sheepishly.
Zhang Rui stepped into the courtyard then.
His tone was controlled.
"Wuchen."
"Yes?" Ye Wuchen replied.
"My qi stabilized last night," Zhang Rui said.
"That is expected," Ye Wuchen answered.
Zhang Rui hesitated.
"It felt… smoother."
"Because you did not force it." Ye Wuchen said
Zhang Rui folded his arms.
"You talk like you've trained disciples."
"I have not," Ye Wuchen said.
Zhang Rui narrowed his eyes.
"Then where did you learn?"
Ye Wuchen paused.
"By observing mistakes."
---
Grandma Yu clapped her hands loudly.
"Enough talking. If he's staying here, he works."
She shoved a basket of dried herbs toward Ye Wuchen.
"Show them what you were telling me."
Ye Wuchen knelt and began sorting the herbs by touch.
"These leaves," he said clearly, "were dried too long in direct sun."
Grandma Yu crossed her arms.
"And?"
"Their essence weakened." Yen Wuchen continued
Chen leaned closer.
"How can you tell?"
"The edges crumble too easily," Ye Wuchen explained. "Properly dried leaves retain slight elasticity."
He adjusted the small clay stove nearby.
"Heat must be gentle," Ye Wuchen continued. "Direct flame destroys medicinal core."
Grandma Yu watched carefully.
The scent shifted slowly from bitter to rich.
Her eyes widened.
"That's stronger," she admitted.
"Yes," Ye Wuchen replied. "Because it was not rushed."
Zhang Rui stepped forward.
"Can that help cultivation?"
"It can stabilize minor internal damage," Ye Wuchen answered. "It will not grant breakthroughs."
Zhang Rui's jaw tightened.
"I plan to attempt third-stage Qi Refinement soon."
"Then you should not rush," Ye Wuchen said.
Zhang Rui's voice sharpened slightly.
"You think I'm not ready?"
"I think," Ye Wuchen replied calmly, "you are impatient."
Silence followed.
Zhang Rui did not strike this time.
Instead, he said quietly, "What would you change?"
"Breathing pattern," Ye Wuchen said. "And timing."
Zhang Rui studied him for a long moment.
Then he nodded once.
---
That evening, Zhang Rui began his breakthrough attempt.
He sat cross-legged in his courtyard, sweat forming quickly along his brow.
Villagers gathered at a distance.
Grandma Yu stood near Ye Wuchen.
"He won't listen fully," she whispered.
"He will," Ye Wuchen replied.
Zhang Rui's qi surged upward.
Too fast.
Ye Wuchen stepped forward.
"Zhang Rui," he said clearly.
"Don't interfere," Zhang Rui growled.
"I am not," Ye Wuchen said. "Slow your inhalation."
Zhang Rui's breathing became ragged.
Qi compressed dangerously behind his sternum.
Grandma Yu gasped.
"He's going to rupture something!"
"Again," Ye Wuchen instructed steadily. "Inhale on the river's fourth beat."
Zhang Rui's vision blurred.
He coughed once.
A trace of blood touched his lip.
Fear flickered across his face.
Ye Wuchen's voice did not change.
"Listen."
Zhang Rui hesitated.
Then he followed.
Inhale.
Pause.
Exhale.
The violent pressure lessened.
Qi aligned gradually.
The breakthrough did not occur—
But the collapse did not either.
Zhang Rui slumped forward, breathing heavily.
After several moments, he looked up at Ye Wuchen.
"You were right," Zhang Rui admitted quietly.
"Yes," Ye Wuchen said.
Zhang Rui let out a tired laugh.
"You don't even look pleased."
"It is not a competition," Ye Wuchen replied.
Zhang Rui studied him carefully.
"What are you, really?"
Ye Wuchen answered calmly, "Someone beginning again."
---
Later that night, Ye Wuchen sat alone by the river.
The sky above the mountains was clear.
The water flowed without urgency.
Grandma Yu approached quietly.
"You could have let him fail," she said.
"Yes," Ye Wuchen replied.
"Why didn't you?"
He considered her question carefully.
Because once, someone stepped forward without hesitation.
Because once, someone chose him when she did not have to.
Because correction is not cruelty.
"He is part of the village," Ye Wuchen said softly. "The river does not choose which stones to flow around."
Grandma Yu did not fully understand.
But she nodded anyway.
"You're strange, Wuchen," she repeated.
"Yes."
He returned to his breathing.
The seal inside his spiritual sea remained heavy.
Silent.
Unmoving.
He did not touch it.
He did not test it.
He let the mortal qi thread circulate slowly.
Pain burned through his damaged meridians.
He endured it.
Here—
He was Ye Wuchen.
Not sovereign.
Not guardian.
Just a man beside a river.
And for now—
That was enough.