The sun slowly rose above the Cloudrise Mountains and painted golden light upon the morning mist. The peaks shone gently, as if faraway dragons who slept in the clouds.
A pale wisp of white aura rose from the eastern peak — weak but pure. It was from a small wooden cabin covered in dewy bamboo.
In the cabin, Li Tian sat cross-legged again.
His breathing was no longer measured or intentional, but natural now. When he inhaled, the air went into him as a gentle tide; when he exhaled, the world seemed to breathe along with him.
Three days had passed since he began practicing the Heavenly Dao Primordial Art.
Something had changed almost imperceptibly over the three days.
The bamboo in the garden had increased in height, their leaves a bit more vibrant. The little pond in front of his hut, once murky, now reflected the sky in crystal clarity. Even the spirit birds, who avoided people, now nested undisturbed nearby.
Li Tian did not entirely understand it, but he could feel that Heavenly Qi did not simply refine the body — it nourished the environment.
It was life itself, flowing through all things.
He raised his palm and watched as fine tendrils of silver mist danced around his fingers — not the coarse, disorganized energy of common cultivators, but lacy and luminous, like filaments of morning.
The whirling mist detached a small petal from the bamboo stalk near by and floated towards him. Rather than falling, it was suspended by his Qi.
Li Tian blinked.
It didn't require effort. He wasn't even trying it.
".Is this tillage still?" he breathed.
He closed his eyes, gently drawing out his Qi, and the petal began to spin. Its motion grew refined, in intangible rhythm flowing. A gentle smile touched his lips.
This wasn't a demonstration of the usage of brute strength — it was a dance of harmony.
The Heavenly Dao Primordial Art never forcing nature into compliance but in harmony with it.
The longer he meditated, the weaker pulses he felt in the world — forest breathing, heartbeat of the earth, wind whispering between trees.
As he focused, his awareness reached further — not through power, but through resonance.
A distant brook glimmered in his mind. Below its surface was the detritus of lost inner stones. He had not known they existed previously, but somehow he simply knew.
It was not treasure sense. It was intuition born of harmony.
He smiled to himself silently.
"Perhaps Heaven's way really does favor the quiet ones."
As morning passed, there were other disciples walking the mountain trails below, talking, laughing, practicing sword forms. He heard them faintly.
They were all attempting, striving to master Qi, testing their bodies to the limit.
He had been one of them once — impatient, envious, ready to do anything to reach the top.
Now, for the first time, he felt not a twinge of envy at all.
He no longer needed to seek the Dao. It was already within him, waiting to be actualized.
When the sun was high, he finally opened his eyes and looked into his reflection on the pond.
His face had not changed much, but his eyes were darker — clearer, like two mirrors reflecting heaven.
Li Tian spread out a hand and touched the water. It spread out in ripples, each ring shining softly with light before it vanished.
A soft voice within spoke to him:
"To walk with Heaven, do not struggle.
To grasp eternity, do not reach."
He smiled faintly.
Perhaps that was what cultivation was about.
Not seeking strength — but seeking unity.
And when the wind swayed the bamboo around him, the young farmer sat still, his heart tranquil, his spirit expansive, as the Azure Sky Continent moved silently beneath the sky.