Han Yu's eyes widened. His lips curled into a trembling smile.
"A fragment… a real fragment of solid Qi."
The pain in his chest was still sharp, his body exhausted, but his heart surged with elation. It was not yet a core, but it was proof. His method worked.
The mountain was steep, but he had taken his first true step onto its slope.
Han Yu's breathing was shallow, his body trembling, but his eyes locked firmly on the tiny speck of solid spirit Qi that floated at the center of his Dantian. It was so small it could have been mistaken for a grain of sand, yet to him it was more valuable than any treasure he had ever laid hands on.
That tiny fragment was proof. Proof that he had taken the right path, proof that his endless days of struggle had not been in vain, and proof that his method, though unorthodox, could indeed lead him toward success.
But the triumph in his heart was quickly restrained by caution.
