First Try

He quickly cleaned up the mess on the floor, feeling the urgency to hide any evidence.

However, there was one matter he needed to addressed.

'This thing is too big,' he thought, looking at the sword in his hand. Carrying it would draw too much attention, practically inviting everyone to steal it from him. 

He needed to find a way to concealed it, but it also had to stay close to him. He feared losing all the strength he had gained if it wasn't close by. 

While considering his options, the sword started to vibrate, as if responding to his thoughts.

'What's going on?' he wondered, gripping it tightly, unwilling to let go. 

The blade started to shrink right before his eyes.

The guard and grip followed, becoming smaller and more compact until what was once a large sword was now a dagger that fit comfortably in his palm. 

The weapon felt way heavier despite shrinking, which puzzled him, but he could still manage its weight. 

Surprised but grateful for this change, he realized that the sword had somehow adjusted to his will. 'This new form will make it easier to hide,' he thought to himself.

Next, he wrapped the dagger in a piece of cloth and placed it in his robe's inner pocket, feeling its comforting presence against his chest. 

'Now it's time for me to focus'

Taking a deep breath, he decided it was time to start his new life as a cultivator. 

He remembered that his mother kept some cultivation books in her room. 

They were basic, but they would do for someone like him. 

But first, he checked on her condition to ensure she was okay. 

'Just rest, Mother. Don't worry. I'll grow stronger to protect you,' he promised to her sleeping face, gently touching her hair, hoping it would bring her some comfort.

After rummaging around, he found an old manual titled "Basic Breathing Exercises" " This was the standard book given to commoners. 

He sat down on the floor, the candlelight flickering over the pages as he studied them. His eyes scanned the illustrations, which demonstrated the proper techniques to draw energy into his body. 

The instructions were clear, with drawings and illustrations that made the general idea understandable even for those who couldn't read.

The book spoke of channels and dantians, points of power that could be unlocked through precise breathing patterns. 

Because what he had was the basic, this thing only focus on the Dantian Breathing. 

It's a practice that focuses on controlling the air in take, which was believed to contain subtle life force energy within it. 

With inward focus and intention, the practitioner draws vital breath into the lower dantian with each inhalation. 

This technique involves sending that said life force to the lower abdomen, located behind and below the navel, precisely at the exact center of the body, two inches below the belly button.

'I'll give this a try now,' 

Standing with his back straight and feet firmly rooted, he visualized a string running from the top of his head through his body to the ground between his feet. 

Placing his hands over the lower dantian, two fingers below his belly button, he focused inward. 

With each inhale, Fang Xuan drew the breath into his mouth. 

He continued this for more than 2 minutes, concentrating on cultivating and harnessing energy in the lower dantian, expecting some results. 

But all he felt was a bit of light-headedness. 

He wasn't sure if he was doing it right, but he didn't let that deter him. With each exhale, he imagined pushing out the stale energy and negative thoughts.

'What's going on? The book says I should feel warmth in my stomach, but the more I breathe in, the more it hurts. It's like the air is poisoning me,' he wondered, his discomfort growing with each passing second. 

Struggling to understand the painful feeling, Fang Xuan tried to slow his breathing. 

Each breath felt like a struggle against an unseen force, as if the air had turned against him. His chest tightened, and sweat formed on his brow. 

He fought to stay calm, but doubts crept in.

Had he misunderstood the instructions?

Or was there something wrong with his body ? 

Gasping for air, he stumbled back, clutching his chest in panic. Fear mixed with frustration as he struggled to control his breathing. Trying to calm down only made it worse. 

Finally, he stopped and collapsed to his knees.

'Something's wrong with my body,' he thought. 

He shouldn't feel like this from a simple breathing exercise. Even elderly and ordinary people could do it; it was supposed to be universally safe for humans.