"This is…"

Grey's words trailed off as his breath was taken away by the sight before him. The underground cavern was far more magnificent than anything he had imagined. The walls shimmered faintly with crystalline veins that reflected dim golden light, while the ceiling arched like the heavens themselves, lined with countless luminous crystals that hung like inverted stars. It was beautiful, breathtaking even, yet beneath that beauty lingered something else, a silent weight that pressed upon his chest, an unseen force that made the very air feel heavy.

A cold, unseen energy drifted toward him, seeping through his skin and into his meridians. It flowed of its own accord, as though it possessed will and intent, circling through his body and brushing against his cultivation base. Instinctively, Grey steadied his breathing, but before he could analyze the strange current, a sharp gust of wind swept across his cheek.

The wind was icy, so cold it bit into his skin like fine needles. It came so suddenly that Grey's body stiffened in surprise. He turned sharply, his gaze darting across the vast cavern, but there was no movement, no ripple of air, no opening from which such a wind could have come. The cavern was sealed, silent, and yet the echo of that fleeting breeze lingered, whispering through the silence like the breath of a hidden being.

Grey's eyes narrowed. The thin white mist that drifted through the air caught his attention next. It wasn't dense enough to obstruct vision, he could still see clearly without invoking his Dragon Eyes, but it carried an odd vitality, like a faint pulse that beat in rhythm with the cavern itself.

The cavern stretched endlessly in all directions, a sprawling underground world adorned with glittering stalactites. Crystals of all shapes and sizes hung above him, glowing faintly with spiritual light. Grey guessed that the legendary Golden Syrup must be formed from the condensation of these crystals when it rained above ground.

Finding a large, flat area beneath one particularly enormous crystal, Grey sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began to cultivate. Even in stillness, he could sense that the mist held an influence over his body. His spirit sea stirred ever so slightly, and his breathing unconsciously adjusted to the rhythm of the air.

It was then that he realized, the mist was not dead. It was alive.

And the occasional cold wind that brushed his skin… it was part of that life.

Time trickled by in silence. The cavern knew no day or night, only the faint shimmer of crystals and the ceaseless whisper of the mist. Grey continued his meditation, but gradually, his focus shifted. The wind, its pattern, its movement, its intent, began to draw his attention completely. Each time it passed, he opened his senses to it, trying to trace its origin. But no matter how hard he tried, he found nothing.

The wind came only twice a day: once in the early morning, and once in the evening. Every time it arrived, it blew for a precise span of time, thirty-seven minutes at dawn, thirty minutes and three breaths at dusk. The rhythm was exact, unwavering, as if dictated by the laws of nature itself.

Days slipped by, then weeks. Grey lost count of time. He no longer cultivated in the traditional sense, his heart and mind were completely absorbed in observing the wind. With every passing day, he felt its presence more deeply, as though it were whispering something he couldn't yet comprehend.

Unknowingly, Grey was attempting to comprehend the Dao of Wind.

On the sixteenth day, as the first gust brushed past his cheek, something within him stirred. His eyes opened slowly, gleaming with faint light.

"The wind…" he murmured, his voice low and uncertain. "What is the wind?"

He felt as though he had grasped something, but that very feeling dissolved the next instant, leaving him even more bewildered. Understanding seemed close, yet infinitely distant. The more he reached for it, the more elusive it became.

For two days, Grey sat unmoving, lost in contemplation. His thoughts sank deep, wandering through memories, sensations, and questions that had no answer.

Then, without warning, the cavern trembled.

The crystals overhead shuddered, their golden light deepening until it burned with a dark luster. Grey's eyes snapped open, realization dawning. It must have rained above ground—the Golden Syrup was forming.

He rose, took out a wine gourd, and placed it beneath the largest crystal. One by one, drops of shimmering golden liquid began to fall, glowing faintly as they struck the gourd's mouth. Each drop carried immense vitality and spiritual energy. Grey quickly placed several more gourds, ensuring none of it went to waste.

As the gourds filled slowly with the precious liquid, Grey returned to his meditation. His mind drifted once more toward the unseen current in the cavern. The faint breeze brushed past him again, gentle, cold, and alive.

Without realizing it, Grey's breathing aligned with its rhythm. His body opened instinctively, drawing in the dense spiritual air that permeated the cavern. His consciousness expanded, merging faintly with the pulse of the wind and the mist.

In that moment, Grey's mind was silent. There was no cultivation technique, no deliberate thought, only perception. And within that stillness, the wind seemed to whisper again… a language of the world itself, waiting to be understood.

Grey frowned when he realized that he was getting nothing out of trying to comprehend the wind. This frustrated him that he woke up from his deep state of comprehension and noticed that the Golden Syrups had stopped forming.

Because he was busy trying to comprehend the wind, he did not notice that the Golden Syrup had stopped forming over two hours ago.

But that did not stop Grey from standing up with a slight frown on his face. The evening wind had blown past, and he couldn't witness another one until the next day. But after getting the Golden Syrup, Grey no longer had any reason to stay Underground.

In silence, Grey quickly moved and picked up all the gourds that were scattered under the crystals. He checked their contents and found that most only have few drops and the one that had the largest crystal under had over twenty drops.

When he put everything inside one small gourd, he found that it only filled half the gourd.

In cold silence, Grey sat down back and patiently waited for the wind to appear. The next day, the wind blew at the exact time he was expecting, and started to immerse himself in the feeling.

But before he could even grab unto that sliver of understanding, the wind was gone. The thirty seven minutes had gone by. Disgruntled, Grey patiently waited for the evening wind to come. The moment it arrived, Grey fully immersed himself in the feeling once again. But before he could grab unto that small understanding he had, the wind stopped.

This made Grey feel strange. The next day went by quickly and Grey continued to immerse himself in comprehending the Dao Of Wind.

But he found out that the feeling of understanding was slowly leaving him. This made Grey feel somewhat sad and dumbfounded. Slowly, a month's time rolled over, but Grey could feel that small epiphany he had of the wind begin to fade away.

"This will not do! I have to understand the wind." Grey said in a low and hoarse voice. The middle-aged man's appearance he was wearing had a disgruntled look on his face.

Immediately, he pushed off and ran towards the tunnel. Grey did not notice, but his speed was faster. The wind that resisted him going at his full speed began to give way to his full speed. Soon, Grey reached his full speed and surpassed it. But he didn't notice, his mind was fully immersed in comprehending the wind.

He was so focused on that feeling he had with the wind that he didn't hear footsteps reverberating in the narrow tunnels until it was too late.

**☺️😉**

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