Zhang Yan sat in the cavern, cross-legged and with his eyes closed, entering meditation.
He did not hurriedly attempt to activate the Xuan Guang nestled in his chest but instead immersed his heart and spirit within, slowly seeking the spiritual mechanism hidden within.
The vast Xuan Guang before him now resembled stagnant water, pooled and motionless, as if lumped together and refusing to stir even slightly.
Yet Zhang Yan remained unhurried. He understood that the effort to stir this Xuan Guang and awaken its spiritual nature required patience. The initial steps were the hardest—not because it couldn't move, but because the timing wasn't ripe, akin to adding kindling to boiling water or turning iron to liquid. It demanded steadfast resolve.
Days passed by one after another—four days were gone, and he remained motionless, like a sculpture.
