Chapter 7 Part 2: The Fated One

Sigrdrífa closed the book and pressed it back into her hands.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“But you are the only one so far who has a connection to this book.”

“…What do you mean?”

“I mean before you came, this book had been sitting in the library building for over a hundred years. No one ever borrowed it.” Sigrdrífa smiled.

“You are the first person to open it.”

Xuan Xi looked down at the old, brittle diary in her hands, and suddenly felt her eyes grow hot.

It wasn’t because she was moved—well, it was partly that.

But more than that, it was a feeling she couldn’t quite describe.

Something ancient had passed through the hundred and fifty years of time between them, from the hands of someone far away in the East, falling into her warm palm.

She didn’t know what that person looked like, whether he was sad or happy, or what he had experienced during his travels in the Eastern Dragon Domain.

But she knew one thing: he must have stood on the soil of the Eastern Dragon clan, seen mountains and rivers she had never seen, breathed the Eastern spiritual energy she had never breathed, and recorded it all word by word before bringing it back to the West.

A hundred and fifty years later, that record was handed to her by his great-great-granddaughter.

And she happened to be an Eastern Dragon stranded in the West.

Could there really be so many “coincidences” in the world? Xuan Xi didn’t know.

She just hugged the diary to her chest and looked up.

“Thank you, Sig.”

“Hm.”

Their eyes met in the air for a moment, then quickly parted.

“Let’s start training.” Sigrdrífa turned and walked toward the center of the training ground.

“Sit down first.”

“Sit down?”

“The first step of breathing is to calm the mind.” Sigrdrífa sat cross-legged on the ground, motioning for Xuan Xi to do the same.

“If the mind is not calm, the qi will not flow. That’s a direct quote from my great-great-grandfather’s diary.”

Xuan Xi sat down across from her, imitating her pose with legs crossed.

But she quickly discovered a problem.

The Western Dragon’s cross-legged sitting posture was different from the Eastern Dragon’s—Sigrdrífa’s sitting posture was more like a combat-ready stance for quick standing, with the center of gravity forward, the back too straight, her whole body like a drawn bow.

“I don’t think that’s right,” Xuan Xi said.

“Then how is it?”

Xuan Xi thought for a moment, recalling her impression from the diary, and adjusted her sitting posture.

She loosened her legs, leaned her back slightly backward, lowered her center of gravity, and naturally placed her hands on her knees, palms facing up.

“Something like… this?”

She wasn’t sure if she was doing it right, but when she closed her eyes and began to try to feel that faint warm current inside her, Sigrdrífa’s voice came from across from her.

“Breathe.”

“What?”

Sigrdrífa opened the diary and read aloud from the text: “‘When inhaling, imagine the spiritual energy entering through the Hundred Convergences at the crown, descending along the Central Meridian to the Dantian. When exhaling, imagine the turbid qi rising from the Dantian and exiting through the mouth and nose. Repeat this process.'”

Her pronunciation was still not quite standard, but she read slowly and earnestly. Xuan Xi closed her eyes and did as she said.

Inhale—imagine the spiritual energy entering through the Hundred Convergences at the crown.

Even though she didn’t know exactly where the “Hundred Convergences” was, she imagined a cool breath seeping in from the very center of her head, slowly descending along the central axis of her body.

Past the throat, past the chest, past the abdomen—stopping at a position below the navel. That position was probably the Dantian.

Exhale—turbid qi rising, exiting through the mouth and nose.

She let out a breath, feeling something heavy being carried out from the depths of her body.

Once, twice, three times… she lost count of how many times she did it.

That feeling was strange.

She was just sitting there breathing, but something was changing in her body—those warm currents that had been dormant for so long began to flow slowly, like water returning to a dried-up riverbed.

The flow was thin, very slow, but it was indeed moving. Her consciousness began to blur.

It was as if she were slowly sinking into water.

Everything around her was receding—the sound of rain, the wind, the noise from distant training grounds, even the sound of her own breathing.

She forgot the time, forgot where she was, forgot that someone was sitting across from her.

“Xuan Xi.”

A voice came from far away.

“Xuan Xi, open your eyes.”

She slowly opened her eyes.

Sigrdrífa’s face was right in front of her, so close that she could see her own reflection in those amethyst pupils.

“You went into a state of samadhi,” Sigrdrífa said, her voice slightly softer than usual.

“For a full hour.”

Xuan Xi blinked and realized the surrounding twilight was much deeper than before.

The sunset had already shifted from golden yellow to orange-red.

“An hour?” She couldn’t believe it. “It felt… like only a few minutes.”

“The Eastern Dragon breathing technique is said to have this effect.” Sigrdrífa moved back half an inch, widening the distance between them.

“Your sense of time becomes different.”

Xuan Xi looked down at her hands.

There was no obvious change.

No glowing, no increase in power—even the Destiny Mark on her body was still quiet and still.

But something had changed.

She couldn’t say what, but she could feel it—the warm currents that had been scattered and disorderly inside her were now circulating slowly along a fixed path, like a channel that had just been dredged.

The flow wasn’t strong, but it had a direction.

“How do you feel?” Sigrdrífa asked.

“Strange,” Xuan Xi answered honestly.

“I can’t describe it.”

“Then we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Sigrdrífa stood up, brushed the dust off her training uniform, then bent down to pick up the diary from the ground and handed it back to Xuan Xi.

“Practice every day,” she said.

“Once in the morning and once in the evening. To start, don’t go too long—fifteen minutes is enough. Once you can maintain a stable state of samadhi, gradually increase the time.”

“How do you know all this?”

“It’s written in the diary.”

“You’ve read it?”

“I’ve read it.” Sigrdrífa didn’t deny it.

“Many times.”

She didn’t say why she had read it so many times, but Xuan Xi felt she could probably guess the answer.

She was looking for a method to teach her.

From the very beginning, that was it.

Sigrdrífa von Edelstein was not someone who did things “by chance.”

Everything she did, she had thought through before doing it.

“Sig.” Xuan Xi stood up, holding the diary to her chest.

“Hm.”

Xuan Xi looked at her. “Thank you, Sig.”

The two of them stood in the twilight on the training ground for a long time.

Until the sun slowly sank beneath the clouds, and the last ray of orange-red light fell on the edge of the Floating Peak.

The distant sky began to turn indigo, and the first star was faintly visible through a gap in the clouds.

“Tomorrow at two o’clock. I’ll come find you.” Sigrdrífa spoke first.

After saying that, she turned and walked away, as usual, without looking back.

Xuan Xi watched that silver-white figure gradually melt into the twilight. She suddenly looked down at the diary in her arms.

She opened the cover and saw a line of text.

“Dragon Calendar 372, Spring. Departed from the Western Dragon Domain, crossed the sea to seek the Eastern Dragon clan. This journey will take years. I know not when I shall return.”

A hundred and fifty years ago, a person set out from the West, sailing eastward, just to find a race that existed only in legend.

He didn’t know if he could find them, didn’t know how long it would take, didn’t even know if he would ever return—but he went anyway.

Fortunately, a hundred and fifty years later, his diary had returned to the hands of a real Eastern Dragon.

And the person who passed on this diary was none other than that man’s great-great-granddaughter.

Xuan Xi closed the diary and pressed it against her chest.

She turned and walked toward the direction of the Dormitory Building.

The handkerchief in her pocket swayed gently with her steps.

The diary in her arms pressed close to her chest, and she could feel its warmth and weight.

She walked along the main road of the academy.

When she passed by the bulletin board, she saw the notice that read “The Freshman Class Placement Exam will be held this week.” But her gaze only lingered on it for a moment.

After all, the current her was no longer the weak Eastern Dragon who had just enrolled.