Night settled over Qingyang City. Moonlight poured across the tiled roofs of the Ye Family estate, bathing the courtyards in silver.
In a secluded garden, Ye Chen sat alone beneath a plum tree, a candle flickering beside him. The world around him was silent except for the soft rustle of wind.
Inside his mind, the Realm of Books floated once more—limitless shelves stretching beyond the void. One tome shimmered brighter than the rest:
"Way of the Sage: Step One – The Path of Self".
He reached toward it.
Warmth flowed through him, and verses appeared across its pages:
> "To know the self is to know the sky;
To know the sky is to shape the flow of qi."
Ye Chen exhaled slowly. So understanding one's nature aligns the heart with the world's rhythm…
He remembered countless motivational lines from his modern life—snippets of poetry, fragments of philosophy. Words that once inspired students and scholars now pulsed with power.
---
He opened his eyes and whispered:
> "Calm as still water, sharp as drawn steel;
The heart unmoved, yet the world revealed."
The candle flame trembled. A faint ring of air rippled outward.
Then, deep in his abdomen, something stirred—qi.
It was weak at first, like mist rising from dew, but it obeyed his will, circling once through his meridians. His body felt lighter, senses sharper.
> "So this is internal energy…" he murmured.
"No manual, no teacher—just comprehension."
He continued reciting softly, each phrase drawn from fragments of old poems and his own invention:
> "The wind speaks, the mountain listens;
My breath joins the song of heaven."
With every word, the qi grew clearer, denser, more refined. The candlelight brightened, then bent slightly toward him.
---
Hours passed before he opened his eyes again. The moon was high, and his breath came smooth and steady. A faint shimmer surrounded his skin.
Within the Book Realm, a new shelf appeared—empty, waiting.
> "A shelf… created by my own understanding."
"Then perhaps every truth I comprehend becomes part of this realm."
He smiled. This power doesn't just let me learn—it lets me create.
---
The next morning, servants whispered as Ye Chen walked through the courtyard. His eyes held calm focus, and a faint trace of qi lingered in his step.
At the training field, a group of disciples were practicing the Flowing Leaf Palm. Their instructor, Elder Ye Liang, noticed him and sneered.
> "The beast boy returns again? Come to clean the kennels?"
Ye Chen's voice was mild. "No. I came to learn."
Laughter spread among the disciples. Ye Liang crossed his arms.
> "You? You don't even have a meridian pulse strong enough for first-stage cultivation."
Ye Chen didn't reply. He simply watched the movement of the palm forms, every strike and counter flowing like waves.
Inside his mind, the Book Realm flickered. Dozens of books opened—Essence of Motion, Principles of Balance, Wind and Body in Harmony.
He absorbed their teachings in an instant. Then he stepped forward.
> Swish!
His palm swept gently through the air. The leaves on the nearby trees trembled—and then several drifted down, sliced cleanly in half.
The laughter died. Ye Liang's eyes widened. "You—!"
Ye Chen clasped his hands behind his back, tone calm and scholarly.
> "Knowledge is a blade sharper than steel. Even a fool can wield a sword; only understanding wields the Dao."
He turned away, leaving only silence behind him.
---
That night, the Book Realm expanded once more.
A new tome appeared, its title glowing softly:
> "Foundations of Qi: The Scholar's Path"
And from somewhere deep within the void, a whisper came:
> "He who reads the world shall rewrite it."
Ye Chen smiled faintly.
> "Then let me write my own legend."