Guanlan Peak, in a Quiet Chamber on the third floor.
The crane-beak incense burner spouted a thin, long stream of white smoke, which swirled into a misty cloud.
Accompanied by the sound of breathing exercises, it was as if an invisible hand kneaded the cloud, breaking it apart into wispy threads.
"Senior Brother Jiang! I can't take it anymore..."
On the wooden couch, Li Ruohan's cheeks were flushed. Her cultivation breathing was somewhat ragged as she asked in a delicate voice:
"Should I go faster now, or slower?"
Across from her, Jiang Yi pondered for a moment before replying succinctly:
"When your qi descends to your chest, sink it downward and accelerate. When it rises past your face, ease up and slow down.
Junior Sister, you might as well follow my rhythm. Listen to my count. One, rise! Two, fall, then rise again..."
Jiang Yi precisely controlled the tempo of her qi circulation, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the surface of the couch.
