Six months later: zero improvement.

The seasons slip through your fingers like sand.

Spring’s chill fades into summer’s heavy heat, which sharpens into autumn’s brittle winds. Day after day, you sweep mossy paths, haul water, scrub courtyards until your hands crack and bleed.

You follow the old manual Lu Qingyi gave you—breathing exercises, lifting weights, endless runs, strange poses meant to awaken the flow of Qi.

At night, you sit cross-legged on your creaky bed, lungs burning as you chase the golden thread the manual promises. But no matter how you strain, all you summon are headaches and frustration.

Meiyu, meanwhile, soars. In six months, she’s grown taller, stronger, her once-scrawny frame filling out with power. Every time you see her, the gap between you shrinks. Once, she barely reached your collarbone. Now, she stands eye-to-eye with you—and soon, you know, she’ll tower above you like the Red Bamboo Sect’s other immortal fairies.

Imagining Meiyu—who once giggled in your arms—transforming into a muscle-bound titan fills you with a strange, twisting feeling: awe, fear, self-loathing.

That girl is destined for the heavenly path.

And you? You’re just a mortal, earthbound and small.

The manual’s warning haunts you: “Innate talent. Without it, the heavenly path is as distant as the stars.”

Maybe no amount of effort will ever be enough.

You slam the manual shut, bitterness gnawing at you. Is this all you are? A delusional, prideful man clinging to the skirt of your childhood friend?

But then, quick footsteps come from outside the hut, and the door creaks open.

Meiyu bursts in, her cheek flushed, grinning. Her pink robe is damp from training. Without a word, she throws her arms around you, kissing you fiercely. Her warmth, her scent, the fierce joy in her touch—all of it burns the bitterness away.

In the past, you used to be the one stealing kisses from her. Now, she takes the initiative, becoming bolder the stronger she gets.

“Whatcha doing?” Meiyu says, breathless.

“Same thing as always.” You gesture to the manual with a sigh.

“You’re still on that? I told you, all you have to do is—”

“Breathe in the Qi, feel it swirl in my dantian, keep feeding it. I know. But it’s impossible! It’s like trying to catch a fart with my hands!”

Meiyu’s smile softens. She leans closer, her damp body pressing against yours. Her scent reminds you of home.

“You’re trying too hard again,” she says. “Qi isn’t something you wrestle into submission. It’s like... listening for a heartbeat. Quiet. Patient. It’s already there. You just have to stop fighting yourself long enough to hear it.”

You snort. “Easy for you to say. You probably found your core by tripping over your feet.”

“Maybe.” She grins. “But if I can do it, you definitely can.”

Without warning, she grabs your wrist and pulls your hand beneath her robe, pressing it against her bare stomach.

Your fingers sink into warm, damp skin. Her body hums with life—lean muscle wrapped in heat and breath. You feel the subtle hardness of her abdomen, the rise and fall of her breathing.

“Can you feel it?” Meiyu asks.

“Um... your abs got bigger?”

“Not that, silly!” She giggles. “My dantian. It should feel like... a tiny sun spinning down here, a dance of Yin and Yang. Maybe if you feel my core, it’ll be easier to find yours.”

You close your eyes, trying to focus. But all you can feel... is Meiyu. Her warmth, her firm muscles, her scent, enveloping yours.

“Do you feel it? The spiraling heat?” she asks.

“It’s hard to feel the difference when your whole body’s hot,” you mumble, nuzzling into her damp collar, taking in the sweet-sour odor.

Meiyu laughs softly. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep trying! You’ll feel it soon enough. And then, we’ll train together—every moment, every day.”

You chuckle dryly. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Not at all!” she says, kissing you again before settling beside you on the narrow bed.

With her in your arms, your hand drifts lower, from her firm stomach toward...

“No!” Meiyu exclaims, stopping you with her grip. “Not yet, Rensu. I’m... I’m not ready. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you say, pressing your forehead against hers, meeting her wide brown eyes. “No rush. Not about this.”

Meiyu giggles, wriggling closer into your embrace.

You feel her firm body—her breasts, hips, thighs, and... something else. Something prickly.

You don’t dwell on it.

She’s still your sweet, silly Meiyu.

Despite her transformation into an immortal before your eyes, she’s still yours.

You smile and close your eyes, drifting off with her warm, damp body pressed against you.

By morning, you still don’t feel her “tiny sun.” Not even a flicker.

When dawn slips into your hut, Meiyu yawns, stretches, and kisses your nose.

“I need to change for training!” she says, already halfway out the door. “Catch you later... hus-band!” she teases, drawing out the word just to see you squirm.

Even after everything—the hugs, the kisses—you and Meiyu never quite cross that final line.

You watch her run off, laughing under your breath, then sigh and get ready for another long, thankless day.