The first rays of dawn had only just started to pierce the canopy of the forest, casting long shadows over the ground.
The sky transitioned slowly from the deep darkness of night to the soft hues of twilight. Birds chirped, and the leaves rustled as the gentle morning breeze passed through.
Yet, amid this tranquil scene, Feng Liang sat cross-legged atop a sturdy tree branch, eyes closed, completely engrossed in his cultivation.
His body was motionless, as though carved from stone, but within, the Qi of the natural world surged like a great river.
It coursed through his meridians, nourishing and refining his physical body, strengthening his internal core. This was the essence of cultivation... merging the self with the world, bending the flow of Qi to one's will, and mastering the body in ways only the most gifted could.
However, Feng Liang was far beyond gifted. He was in a class of his own.
