*wrestling announcer voice* Ooh, tough luck on that meridian blockage, it looks like the Lesser Obfuscation of Wood is going to be saved by the bell--
Wait, what's that? IT'S GRANDPA JI WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!
Looks at post , and then back at muse.* sigh * Verywell
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Guang Li sat cross-legged on a rock, sweat dripping down his face. His gangly frame quivered like a sapling in a storm as he tried—once again—to purify his second meridian. The air around him was thick with the scent of burning incense and desperation. Lesser cultivators might have called it quits after the fourth backfire, but Guang was made of sterner—or perhaps denser—stuff.
"You've got this, Guang," he muttered to himself. "Focus. Channel your Qi like a flowing river…"
In truth, his Qi was less "flowing river" and more "leaking faucet." He could feel it spluttering through the tangled knot of his second meridian like an old man climbing stairs. And speaking of old men…
"FOCUS!" a voice boomed inside his skull, nearly knocking him off his perch. "You're worse than your father was at your age, and he was practically a Mortal with Qi. and a crippled one at that!"
Guang winced. "Grandpa Ji, I'm trying! Can you maybe not yell in my head?"
Grandpa Ji's spectral form materialized beside him, an irate, semi-transparent elder with a long beard that whipped about as if caught in a windstorm. His ethereal hands clutched a spectral folding chair. Where he'd gotten the folding chair, Guang had no idea.
"You've been 'trying' for three hours, and all you've accomplished is looking constipated. At this rate, you'll never get through your meridian, and I'll be stuck with a descendant who's more cabbage than cultivator!"
"Hey!" Guang protested. "I'm making progress! Slow and steady wins the—"
Before he could finish, a sharp jolt of Qi sputtered in his chest and ricocheted into his stomach. Guang's eyes bulged. "Oh no. Not again."
With a loud
BZZT, his Qi backlash exploded, sending him flying off the rock. He landed with an undignified
thud, flat on his back. The world spun. The incense sticks fell over, their smoke curling into ghostly shapes that cackled mockingly at him.
"That's it. I'm taking over," Grandpa Ji declared.
"No! I can do this!" Guang protested, flailing his arms as if to ward off the ghost. "I just need a little more time—"
"You're out of time, boy! This is an emergency!" Grandpa Ji raised his spectral chair high. His voice echoed like thunder: "WRATHFUL ANCESTOR INTERVENTION!"
"Wait, what are you—AAAAAH!"
With a battle cry that would've made a berserker proud, Grandpa Ji swung the spectral chair down,
directly into Guang's chest. Instead of pain, Guang felt a strange warmth flood his meridian. His Qi, previously as uncooperative as a stray cat, suddenly snapped into place and flowed smoothly. The blockage melting away like butter in a hot pan.
Guang bolted upright, eyes wide. "What just happened?!"
Grandpa Ji spun the chair around and sat on it backward, looking immensely pleased with himself. "Sometimes, a little violence is the answer."
"That… That's not how Qi cultivation works!" Guang stammered. "You can't just fix a meridian blockage by hitting it with a ghost chair!"
"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Grandpa Ji smirked, stroking his beard. "Back in my day, we called it 'tough love.' You kids these days have no grit."
Before Guang could argue further, another ghostly ancestor floated into view. This one was a regal-looking woman with an air of calm authority.
"Ji, must you always be so dramatic?" she sighed. "The boy is making progress. Let him learn at his own pace."
"Progress?" Grandpa Ji scoffed. "If we leave him alone, he'll spend the next decade fumbling around like a blind duck. Someone has to light a fire under him!"
The regal ghost turned to Guang. "Don't listen to him, dear. Just keep practicing. Cultivation is a journey, not a race."
Grandpa Ji muttered something about "soft parenting" under his breath, but Guang barely heard him. He was too busy marveling at the newfound clarity in his meridian. For the first time in his life, his Qi felt…manageable.
"Hey, it actually worked!" Guang exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face.
"Of course it worked," Grandpa Ji said, puffing out his chest. "And remember, if you ever get stuck again, I'll be here with my trusty chair."
Guang blinked at him. "You're going to solve all my cultivation problems by hitting me with ghost furniture?"
"Exactly." Grandpa Ji grinned, lifting the chair triumphantly. "Sometimes, the best lessons are the ones that hurt a little."
As the other ancestors groaned and rolled their spectral eyes, Guang couldn't help but chuckle weakly. Sure cultivation was difficult but at least he wasnt alone here.