I Ask for Immortality Through Teachings

Lu Chen sat in the woodshed, closed his eyes, adjusted his breath, and focused on guarding his Dantian. The Dantian is three inches below the navel and is the ancestral orifice of the human body. He didn't know what Zuqiao was, but he only knew that it would occasionally jump there, like something alive turning over under the mud. No talent, no mentorship. He only has a nameless exercise book, which says: When the mind is calm, Qi will grow. He sat down, not that he was not anxious, but because no one told him that he should be anxious. The road is not far from the people, and the people are far from the road. Cultivation is not about comparing who is faster, but about who can sit still. That little bit of warmth has taken root. Can't see it, but it's there.