Whoosh—whoosh—
The strong, cold mountain wind beat against the fabric, creating a faint sound.
Inside the spacious tent, Zhao Douan sat cross-legged, his eyes closed, his hands forming a virtual embrace in front of him.
With each breath, two fine white streams flowed out of his nostrils and then retracted, appearing quite mysterious.
As he completed a full cycle of breathing, his inner Qi reached its peak, and he abruptly crossed his thumbs in his virtual embrace.
With him as the center, the air around him rippled outward, and then a hazy and indistinct "Golden Bell" slowly emerged, enveloping him.
After maintaining for a moment, it dissipated.
"Whoosh—"
Zhao Douan opened his eyes, the Green Lotus mark on his brow slowly faded, and a smile appeared on his lips:
"No wonder the Buddhist 'Golden Bell Shield' is a classic; it's truly difficult to learn, but I've finally grasped the basics."
