I sit in this drafty room with its blue-tiled roof, watching the nearly transparent glimmer circling my fingertip. This is no world-destroying divine power. In this age of high martial arts, it's as insignificant as morning dew. Yet I alone can see the faint, elusive “strings” floating over every object, every living thing, and every way a cultivation method works.
I call them [resonant frequencies].
I can see the weakest “point” in all things. If my cultivation isn't strong enough and I pluck one by force, my meridians might shatter. But if I choose the right moment, a single touch is enough to bring a towering building crashing down or make a peerless divine weapon break itself. This golden finger gives me no power. It gives me “leverage.”
