Breathing techniques are the essence of cultivation. They are the way cultivators obtain the energy they use to build their body, mind, and soul, and the means for which they use it to influence the physical world.

  There is nothing inherently special about breathing techniques. They are akin to fighting styles. Many have become refined practices, but even a gutter rat can obtain a formidable style through instinct, practice, and attention alone. So countless cultivators rise to the challenge of making techniques to pass to their descendents each year, often succeeding, albeit with mediocre results.

  My situation was no different. I had twelve meridians, and I could make a breathing technique to allow me to cultivate. It wouldn’t allow me to use offensive techniques, as techniques are created in the Inner Dantian, the second layer of a three layered organ, but the Qi would allow me to reinforce my body and use spirit jade and array chalk to use techniques. And that’s what I needed.

  That said, this was easier said than done.

  Meridians and the corresponding that bring Qi to the dantian are like water pipes. The water, Qi, enters the pipes through the meridians, then travels through the channels, the pipes, to the water reservoir, or the dantian, where it's purified and readied for distribution.

  The main difference is that Qi enters and exits through the same pipes, so you need a breathing technique that allows input of Qi in some pipes and release in others to prevent rupturing. And with twelve meridians that was difficult.

  But that wasn't all.

  The meridians weren't directly connected to the dantian. So while some pipes accepted water, I had to navigate it through fragmented pipe networks to get the Qi to my dantian. And if I connected them wrong or breathed wrong—my remaining channels would explode.

  No mortal would attempt something so reckless. But for an Immortal who cultivated with one thousand meridians with thousands of unique and shifting breathing forms a day, it would be relatively easy. I just had to make sure others couldn’t see it. Such a technique would be a sign of genius, and I wasn’t sure if that was something beneficial to flex yet. That's why I hadn't cultivated while sharing a room with Rex. But now that I was alone, it was time to begin

  Breathing in my new body felt foreign and painful—but also soothing. Before long, I had drifted into a trance, moving Qi back and forth between spirit channels, back and forth, back and forth, simple, smooth, practiced—slow and deliberate—building that channel memory.

  I didn't know how long that lasted, but it was at least twelve hours, judging by the shift from late afternoon to brisk morning, but it was rudely interrupted by a rather heavy-handed greeting.

  There were three pounding knocks and a woman screaming, “Kain!” at the top of her lungs.

  I tried to ignore her but she continued, screeching, “I know you're in there. I can see you through the damn window!”

  “In times of peril, practice patience,” I mumbled as I got up.

  “Kain!” she shrieked.

  “Calm yourself,” I demanded. “I've denied you nothing.”

  I opened the door and found a perplexed woman staring at me. She wore pink and black robes and an asymmetrical pixie cut, a common hairstyle for cultivators, as fighting with hair is a luxury of those with dominion over their body. She has a fiery countenance, a woman whose sharp determined eyes that make you forget what their other traits looked like. But I do remember thinking that her lips were attractive, as lips often are upon reflection. Those lips shifted from parted confusion to a deep scowl in rolling waves.

  Her name was Fera.

  “Can I help you?” I asked as she stared at me dumbly.

  She trembled and her body built up steam. “Two days! You've been here two days and you haven't so much as searched for me. I hate you.” She shoved a basket into my hands and pushed her way into my home, sitting on the bed and folding her arms.

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  I looked in the basket. Baked treats. Homemade.

  “And what happened to your face?” she asked. “And why don't you look self-conscious about it?”

  I looked in the mirror and saw there was a rugged scar and dimple on my cheek bone. It was hideous but had an appeal for powerful cultivators—at least to men looking up to a leader.

  She huffed at my expression. “Well? Aren't you going to say something?”

  I turned to her with exasperated eyes. “Do you seek answers, or do you wish to vent? Because I have neither the skill nor the resolve to handle both.”

  Fera narrowed her eyes on me. “Did that beating jar your head or something’?”

  “Clearly.”

  She tucked in her arms further and raised a sassy eyebrow. “Well allow me to reintroduce myself. My name’s Fera and I'm your life mate so get used to it. Now what do you have to eat? I'm starving.”

  I looked down at the basket. “Are these poisoned?”

  “No, dummy.” She opened my cabinets. “They're a gift. And you don't eat the gifts you’re… Wait, seriously? Nothing?” She turned to me furiously. “Don't you dare tell me you've been doxie tipping?”

  It was already hard to keep my composure around this obnoxious fiend, and being interrogated on whether I was eating at strip clubs deteriorated the little patience I had left.

  “Do you take me for a leper? I would never expose myself to such filth.”

  She stared at me with wide eyes.

  “Woah, that impact really jacked up your head.”

  “It did.”

  Her lips curved into a playful grin. “But I like it. It's kinda hot.” She then looked in the cabinets again and frowned. Two seconds later, she was eating a roll she snuck from the basket and was kicking her legs on my counter, examining me like a fascinating specimen. “So what? People feedin’ you or something?”

  Her eyes flickered with a glassy sheen as she eyed my body with Divine Eyes. “Wait… don't tell me you've been cultivating?”

  I traced my functional meridian chains with my index finger.

  A slow grin crept in her lips. “Look at you, bein’ all defiant and such.” She took another bite and didn't finish the chewing before saying, “If you keep this up, I'll actually wanna date you.”

  , I thought. Then I sighed and said:

  “Can you remind me what we do together in these periods of relaxation?”

  She shrugged. “I dunno. Just chill? I mostly just talk and you listen. Though you're kinda messin’ that up. Beyond that, we have unruly amounts of sex.”

  I frowned, and she giggled.

  “Wow. You actually think I'm serious. At this point it'll be a challenge to get you to remember me.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “This amnesia doesn't bother you?”

  “Of course it does,” she said. “You're like a completely different person. Definitely not my life mate. But still. I'm not exactly opposed to this shift. Just wish you'd remember me.”

  “I can't tell if you're serious.”

  She shrugged and laughed. “I don't know either. I think I'm just in shock.”

  I sighed and sat down on the floor again.

  “Well, you can feel free to talk. Maybe I'll remember.”

  She shrugged and lay on my bed. “Where to begin. Well, Lika was a total bitch today. Though, I suppose you don't know who she is, so I'll describe her. She has these big lips that really stand out when she's being a bitch and saying bitchy things.”

  Each word stabbed into my brain.

  “Now don't get me wrong,” she said. “I'm not a big fan of that word. But this woman… God. If she didn't spread her legs for bodyguards, she would've taken a sword to the spinal column a long time ago. Like take today for example. She walked up to me before the bell and said, “It’s incredible that you can make the same robes everyone else wears look… exotic.” Then I shit you not, five minutes later, Stenna walked in the lecture hall with her robes tied to show a little thigh and Lika walked up to me like we were best friends and said, “Wow. When did Steena become a slut?” Then two minutes later, Steena walked up to say hi to me and Lika started complimenting her outfit all genuine like. And all this happened in like seven minutes. So yeah, while I'm a fan of throwing around insults, I really don’t have a choice. Calling her anything else would be like calling a bird a wing flapper simply ‘cause some people hate the word bird. You know?”

  I took a deep, long breath and thought,

  “Tell me, Fera,” I said. “Are you clowning with me about these discussions?”

  Fera rolled onto her stomach and cradled her chin with both her hands.

  “No~pe. Not really.” She then rolled on her back and stared at me upside down, hair splaying downward. “It's kinda why we bonded. The loner and the yapper—kinda meant to be. Right? Not good for the long hitch, but it's something.”

  “I see…” I took a deep breath in frustration. She slightly reacted to this, spinning back around and then scrambling for her purse.

  “Oh yeah… here,” she said.

  Fera pulled out a pill and when I smelled it, my eyes widened. “Is this a rinka pill?”

  “No idea why'd you'd know that… but yeah.”

  “Yeah? You say that so casually.”

  “That’s ‘cause it's casual.”

  I stared at her.

  “What? Stop looking at me. Fera blushed and looked away. “I know it's a lot, but it's the least I can do. I mean, I do owe you.” She glanced at my dantian and then away ruefully.

  My mind spun. “Wait… are you the reason I suffered a tribune?”

  She looked at the ground somberly.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What happened?”