13 Sealing (2/2)

Of course, this technique had obvious drawbacks. Using the stored qi would drain your soul, hindering your qi generation. But the potential growth was limitless.

I gently drew out the top layer of the sphere, making sure I had enough qi to fuel the process. After an hour of repetition, I finally sealed it shut.

I lay back in my cot, satisfied with my progress. Rays of light streaked through my window, and I knew that morning had arrived, but I was tired from my cultivation.

Mother brought me out to the bench and tried to teach me some more language. I couldn't focus and kept dozing off.

She didn't want to pressure me when I was obviously tired, so she brought me to father's study.

His study was back to how I remembered it. A sense of satisfaction filled me when I saw him writing at his desk, as if nothing had ever changed.

Mother lay me down on the small bed, and I pretended to nap. Instead, I did some light meditation. I wasn't mentally exhausted, so I could at least manage that.

It had taken months to pass what I thought at first was a small conceptual barrier.

I began to appreciate how much help Sirius had given me with the first page. Finding your soul was probably as challenging as forming it was, but I had been given a head start.

Now I could approach the latter half of the second page. This was what gave it the name ”Soul Expansion.”

It was a delicate, repetitive technique which grew the soul. I had to allow the qi inside my soul to propagate until it filled to the brim.

When it filled, it would keep creating more qi, stretching the container. If I wasn't careful, this could cause my soul to shatter.

Instead, I had to siphon off a small amount of qi and apply it to the outer layer of my soul. This would thicken it and allow it to expand more.

If I made the layer too thick, it would expand too slowly. If I made the layer too thin, it would expand too quickly, and my soul might burst.

For now, it seemed safer to apply a thick layer and monitor the growth. I drained off some my qi and imagined that I was applying coats of paint.

I marvelled at how a paintbrush formed out of delicate strands of qi at a single thought. Perhaps it was because I was so familiar with brushes.

I had done a fair bit of painting in the schooldays of my past life. I was incredibly motivated back then, in part because of my amazing teacher.

He had a wonderful way with words, able to fill you with confidence with a simple appraisal of your piece. When I left school, I no longer felt his support, and my passion faded into nothing.

Leaving that ability by the side of the road had fuelled my misery and discontent with the world.

”Maybe I could give it another shot,” I thought to myself.

The simple act of painting qi onto my soul was relaxing. A sense of fulfilment grew with each layer. More qi was required to dry the 'paint', but I had about half the tank left to spare.

Before I knew it, I had painted five coats. My soul had doubled in thickness, and I decided to leave it there.

I brought myself back to reality. I had finished cultivating for now, and just had to let my soul grow. I had some of the day left but… I deserved a break.