Xuanyan sat beside the waterfall base, legs crossed and maintaining an upright posture, with steady, even breathing. Mist swirled gently around him, clinging to stone and skin alike, while the constant cascade of water muffled quieter sounds. This creates a calm, almost deceptive sense of peace, blending the mountain's natural rhythm.
To an ordinary observer, he would have appeared fully immersed in meditation, his body still, defences lowered. His spiritual circulation flowed in a calm, disciplined loop, qi regulated to a stable rhythm that betrayed no urgency.
His awareness continues to extend outward, wide and delicate, overlapping the terrain in multiple layers. Each shift in air, every fluctuation of qi not originating from the mountain, and any presence daring enough to impose its rhythm on the land was quietly observed and organised.
Xuanyan had known for some time now that he was not alone.
