Liang Chen sat in the silence of his small apartment, the faint hum of the city beyond the windows a distant backdrop to his meditative state. The dim light of the room cast long shadows on the walls, the air heavy with the quiet tension of anticipation. His breathing was slow and deliberate, each exhale a release of the weight he carried.
The knowledge given by the Dream Reincarnation System swirled in his mind—complex diagrams, intricate flows of energy, and the exacting demands of the spiritual vein creation technique. It was a marvel of cultivation, a method birthed from countless eons of experimentation and refinement. Yet, for all its brilliance, the technique demanded perfection, and Liang Chen knew he could not afford a single misstep.
As his focus deepened, a subtle sensation brushed against the edge of his consciousness. It was faint, like the softest whisper carried on the wind, but it was there. Liang Chen's eyes opened slightly, his gaze sharpening as he allowed the sensation to take form.
It was clumsy and unrefined, lacking the grace and clarity of thought. Yet, beneath its awkwardness was an undeniable plea—a yearning that resonated with Liang Chen's soul. The presence was not a voice, nor did it carry words, but its meaning was clear: the plane wanted him to act.
A faint warmth settled over Liang Chen, a soothing wave that chased away his lingering doubts. It was as if the plane, weak and struggling as it was, sought to steady him, offering what little comfort it could provide.
"You're not just watching," Liang Chen murmured, his voice barely audible in the stillness. "You're asking for this, too."
The presence responded with a subtle pulse, like the hesitant squeeze of a child's hand. Liang Chen's chest tightened as the enormity of the moment struck him. The plane, in its fragile state, was reaching out to him—not as a master commanding a servant, but as a fledgling seeking guidance.
He closed his eyes again, letting the bond settle. The sensation lingered at the edge of his awareness, not intrusive but constant, like a small ember flickering in the darkness.
"Alright," he said softly, rising to his feet. His voice carried no hesitation, only resolve. "Let's begin."
Liang Chen made his way to a secluded clearing on the outskirts of the city. The area was unremarkable—an overgrown patch of land surrounded by sparse trees and wild underbrush. The air was cool and still, heavy with the dampness of recent rain. Above, the sky was a tapestry of muted gray clouds, their edges tinged with the faint glow of an impending sunset.
The clearing offered little in the way of natural energy, but it was isolated, far from the watchful eyes of the alliances and their followers. Liang Chen stood in the center, his gaze sweeping over the uneven ground.
"Not ideal," he muttered, "but it will have to do."
He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, centering himself. The method for creating a spiritual vein unfolded in his mind, each step as vivid as the lines of a carefully inked talisman. It began with his life force—the only source of energy he could draw from in this barren world.
Liang Chen raised his hands, the faintest shimmer of light gathering around his fingertips as he activated the technique. A warm, golden glow enveloped him, pulsating gently like the rhythm of a heartbeat. He guided the energy downward, weaving it into the patterns etched in his memory.
The process was grueling. Each thread of energy resisted his control, fighting against the barren environment as though defying the very idea of existence. Liang Chen's brow furrowed, sweat forming on his temples as he concentrated. His breath grew labored, his body trembling under the strain.
Then, he felt it—a subtle nudge, a stabilizing force.
The plane's will stirred, its presence soft but steady. It lacked precision, its actions clumsy and instinctual, but it helped nonetheless. Energy that had threatened to unravel steadied under its guidance, and the flow of life force became smoother, more harmonious.
"You're doing your part," Liang Chen whispered, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the strain. "Good."
The energy threads converged, sinking into the earth. For a moment, nothing happened. The clearing was silent, the air heavy with expectation. Then, a faint pulse of light emanated from the ground—a flicker of Qi so weak it barely registered, but it was there.
Liang Chen's breath caught. The spiritual vein had formed.
The thread of Qi was fragile, a flickering ember compared to the roaring rivers of energy Liang Chen had once commanded. Yet, it was a beginning—a spark of hope in a barren world. He knelt beside it, his hands hovering over the faint glow as he studied its delicate structure.
The plane's will surged faintly, its presence brightening as it fed on the vein's energy. Liang Chen felt the bond deepen, the subtle connection growing more defined. The air around him seemed to shift, as though the world itself had taken a shallow breath.
But the vein was too fragile to survive on its own. The barren environment threatened to drain it, leaving it to dissipate unless stabilized. Liang Chen retrieved a small set of tools from his bag—simple formation items he had salvaged and repurposed for this exact purpose.
He began arranging them around the vein, each placement precise and deliberate. The formation was basic, designed to anchor the Qi and prevent it from dispersing. It required careful alignment and meticulous calibration, but Liang Chen's hands were steady, his focus unyielding.
When the final piece was placed, he activated the formation. A faint hum filled the air as the components resonated, their energies converging to shield the vein. The thread of Qi steadied, its flicker becoming a gentle glow.
Liang Chen sat back on his heels, exhaling a slow, measured breath.
"One step at a time," he murmured.
Unbeknownst to Liang Chen, the ripple of Qi spread further than he anticipated. It was faint, nearly imperceptible, but to the keen senses of an Immortal cultivator, it was like the rustle of a leaf in a silent forest.
In a distant part of the world, the Neutral Alliance's Immortal cultivator sat in quiet meditation. Their eyes opened slowly, a flicker of curiosity passing over their serene expression.
"Interesting," they said softly, their voice barely above a whisper. "A flicker of Qi… here, of all places."
They rose gracefully, their movements deliberate as they focused on the faint disturbance. Their gaze turned distant, their thoughts guarded but intrigued.
"The world is stirring," they murmured. "Perhaps it's time to see why."
Back in the clearing, Liang Chen stood beside the spiritual vein, his gaze thoughtful. The plane's will lingered at the edge of his awareness, a quiet but steady presence. It was weak, yes, but it was growing, feeding on the energy of the vein like a newborn drawing sustenance from its first breath.
Yue Ling padded silently to his side, her golden eyes reflecting the faint light of the vein. She tilted her head slightly, her expression almost contemplative as she regarded the glowing thread of Qi.
Liang Chen reached down, his hand resting on her head as he allowed himself a moment of quiet satisfaction.
"This is just the beginning," he said softly. "But it's enough for now."
Yue Ling let out a soft bark, her tail curling around his leg as if in agreement.
The first step had been taken. The world would change, and Liang Chen would ensure that it changed on his terms.