The evening in Geneva lay still as a vast lake. Streetlights reflected against the hotel's glass, casting the shadow of Duong Minh seated cross-legged upon the floor. He had just emerged from deep meditation when he sensed a faint tremor—so slight it might have gone unnoticed, yet refined, identical to the ripple of Spiritual Energy that arises when a cultivator of high attainment appears.
He opened his eyes.
The balcony door had not stirred in the wind, yet the white curtain shifted softly. The air in the room seemed to lower itself, as though bowing before a presence.
A voice, deep and resonant as a temple bell struck at dusk, spoke from behind him.
"Am I disturbing you, Duong Minh?"
He turned.
Master Tinh Khong, the tranquil Zen monk of the Eastern Institute, stood only a few steps away. His ash-gray robe fell in quiet folds, his gaze deep as the bottom of an ancient well. He did not look like a man who had entered through a door; rather, like someone who had long been there, simply waiting for Duong Minh's mind to awaken before revealing himself.
"Master… how did you come here?" Duong Minh rose, faintly unsettled.
Master Tinh Khong studied him for a moment, then moved to sit upon the cushion opposite with natural ease.
"I have come because there is something I have kept in my heart for a very long time. And also because you are about to enter the Path of Dao examination. There are things that, if left unsaid now, would become regret later."
The atmosphere shifted at once. Duong Minh felt something significant poised to unfold.
Master Tinh Khong rested his hands upon his knees and looked directly at him.
"You have likely heard that your father, Duong Anh Hai, once healed through qigong."
Duong Minh held his breath. A sensation old and buried stirred within him.
"In truth… it was I who guided him onto that path."
Duong Minh froze.
For an instant, space seemed to solidify. He heard his heartbeat clearly—slow, heavy, deliberate.
"Master… what do you mean?"
His voice trembled, stirred by a pain long buried and now unearthed.
"In those years, I was merely a wandering monk in the northern mountains. I met your father during a free clinic in a poor village. I saw in him something rare: a heart chakra open from birth, though only by a narrow slit. That allowed him to feel the suffering of others more deeply—and more painfully—than most."
Master Tinh Khong's gaze darkened.
"A person like that, without proper guidance, will trade himself away to heal others. And your father did exactly that."
Duong Minh felt his throat dry. His hand tightened instinctively.
Master Tinh Khong continued.
"I taught him a few foundational qigong methods: listening to a patient's breath, perceiving the human aura field, regulating mind-intent through breathing. But I did not expect him to progress faster than anyone I had known. He healed others, yet did not shield himself."
A rare tremor entered the monk's voice.
"I should have stopped him from using the 'aura synchronization' method he devised. It allowed him to diagnose illness swiftly and accurately—perhaps more than any other method. For him, that was enough. He cared only about saving lives quickly, neglecting his own safety."
Duong Minh lowered his head, jaw clenched. His heart ached as though pierced.
His father had died of cancer. Yet perhaps cancer was only the name medicine gave to something deeper.
Master Tinh Khong placed a steadying hand upon his shoulder.
"That is why I have come to ask you something. When you step into the Path of Dao examination, who do you intend to be?"
He looked into Duong Minh's eyes.
"A man who seeks the Path of Dao. Or an Intellect Cultivator who merely uses Spiritual Energy as a tool?"
Duong Minh drew a long breath.
"What do you mean?"
"I offer you a choice. If you wish to follow the Path of Dao, I will assist you: open your chakras, clear the Ren and Du meridians, guide the Fire Serpent's ascent, and teach you how to draw heaven-and-earth Spiritual Energy into your body without harming your true self."
He paused, gaze unwavering.
"But if you do not wish to follow that path, I will teach you to control Spiritual Energy through pure consciousness alone. You need not open your chakras; you may regard Spiritual Energy as a stream of data. That suits your foundation as an Intellect Cultivator. You could become a new form of cultivator—one who does not depend upon the body to wield energy."
He inhaled slowly.
"You may choose. I will not compel you."
The room fell silent. Even the faint sounds of traffic seemed to vanish.
Duong Minh closed his eyes. In that brief stillness, his father's image appeared—gentle smile, sitting beside a patient's bed, hands trembling from exhaustion.
Then he saw himself battling Phap Vien, Spiritual Energy swirling like waves. He saw himself within the Digital Ocean, guiding machines as though linking minds. He saw a road opening between two worlds.
When he opened his eyes, they were resolute.
"Master, I choose both paths."
Master Tinh Khong looked at him for a very long time.
At last he exhaled, like wind moving through pine trees.
"Dual cultivation, Duong Minh. Do you understand how dangerous that is?"
"I do." His voice did not waver.
"In history, there have been geniuses who walked both paths. They opened spiritual awareness and intellectual consciousness simultaneously. But when Spiritual Energy rebounded too fiercely into the mind, and the mind expanded into the Digital Ocean, their sense of self shattered. They were found… in states no longer human."
He touched his chest lightly.
"That road is not for the unsteady."
"I will not turn back."
Then, more softly yet more deeply:
"My father chose to save others with his life. I do not claim to be as noble. But I wish to go further than he did. Far enough to discover a way to save others without sacrificing oneself."
He met Master Tinh Khong's gaze.
"That is why I choose dual cultivation. If the two systems can harmonize, perhaps there is a third path—one my father never had the chance to find."
For a fleeting moment, the monk's eyes softened.
"If you are resolved, then from this moment I will withhold nothing. I will teach you all that I know."
He rose, robe shifting lightly.
"Tonight, I will instruct you in the first practice of stillness. Tomorrow, I will open your root. In three days, you will enter the Path of Dao examination as someone neither the Eastern Institute nor the Western Institute can define."
He turned, then paused.
"And Duong Minh—do not resent your father. He chose that road because his heart was larger than the body that bore it."
Duong Minh bowed his head.
"I have never resented him. I only regret that I did not understand him sooner."
Master Tinh Khong smiled faintly, a rare expression from a man who had witnessed the rise and fall of many paths.
"Then let the path you walk from this day forward repay what was left unfinished."
Night deepened. The lamp dimmed, Spiritual Energy in the air gathering like threads of silver smoke. Duong Minh sat once more in meditation.
Beside him, Master Tinh Khong extended two fingers toward the empty space before Duong Minh's lower abdomen—the site of the first chakra.
Let us begin.