“You’re early this time, Princess Inaris.”

I shrugged at Ling Ta. “I find myself motivated to improve my cultivation. You could say I was goaded into it.” I wasn’t so prideful as to pretend that my siblings’ words hadn’t needled me. Especially Al.

My Teacher smiled at that. “Ah, the enthusiasm of youth.”

By now, I knew him well enough to detect the sarcasm in his words. It wasn’t the tone, which remained completely deadpan, but the slight glint in his eyes.

So I didn’t answer, and only sat down on a mat in the center of the training courtyard. I glanced around. My guards stood a distance away, as before, and Aston had moved off and was doing warm-up exercises.

“Could I have some pillars?” I didn’t raise my voice, as it would be heard anyway.

One of the guards bowed. A moment later, earthen pillars shot out of the ground. They took on several forms, from straight cylinders to intricate knotwork and little trees.

I nodded in satisfaction. I’d come straight here after visiting my siblings, which meant it was just after noon. The sun burned down on us, its light flooding the courtyard. That gave me access to a lot of light qi, but the shadows cast by the pillars let me gather some darkness qi as well.

Then I closed my eyes and calmed my thoughts. That had gotten more difficult the longer I stayed in this world, thoughts of home trying to invade my private moments, when I didn’t distract myself with study or training. But I forced them away and focused on my plan. True to what I’d told Xiaodan, I’d decided that today, I would work on my foundation, not any techniques. I still hadn’t quite understood what I already knew.

For a while, I simply cultivated, trying to really get into the meditation. I didn’t even focus on cycling qi through my body, instead sensing the qi all around me. I could ‘see’ all of it, in a distant, imperfect way. Only the qi of light and darkness stood out sharply.

But as I sunk deeper into my cultivation, I realized there was no real border, no dividing line I could draw. All types of qi were, in the end, one and the same. I had known that before, but now I was reminded of it again.

Actually, it reminded me of what little I knew about quantum mechanics. Particles weren’t really here or there, there was only potential. They only took on certain states when you asked them about it, when the universe measured it. It helped to see qi in the same vein. I didn’t know how it ultimately related to matter, but it, too, wasn’t strictly defined. The closer I looked at qi, the more I came to understand it.

I wasn’t a physicist, but I found myself intuitively grasping what I sensed in a way that wasn’t restricted to ‘magic’. I could see how qi interacted with the material world around it, and I could tell how you would define its force as a function of distance. I developed an understanding of how light and darkness qi layered atop ‘pure’, affinity-free qi, that was really only an amalgamation of all its potential types. It was never really pure. The affinities present and their strength always restricted its potential, put a limit on what it could be, the distribution of its density, if I wanted to put it that way.

After a while, I applied my new understanding and pulled. I gathered qi with the familiar affinity of energy, electromagnetic force, and the notion of brightness and positive things, and breathed it in. I didn’t try to keep it to a single path, or control the speed of absorption, I simply let it in.

Then I saw the qi with the affinity of absence, of outer space and restrictions and the idea of shrouding gloom, and drew it in. I cleared it a path, and let it appear where it would.

I guided the qi through my body, pushed and pulled it through its pathways, my meridians, and always back to the core. I set its rotation, the qi spinning around each other, always both of them in concert, because they always needed each other to exist.

The qi in my core rose and rose, so I pushed down on it. I compacted the qi and stretched my dantian at the same time. Dimly, I sensed a barrier buckling, but it went gently, smoothed out of the way by the rising streams of qi. And always, I breathed new qi in, adding it to the cycle within my body.

I didn’t stop there. Time had ceased to matter. I simply cultivated, moved my qi, studied it, and added to it. I pushed some of it into my meridians themselves, shoring up their structure, sloshing away microscopic debris. That, I breathed out, before I let new qi flood in.

Finally, I came back to myself. I didn’t entirely withdraw my attention from the qi, but the sense of it faded into the background, letting me experience my surroundings without drawing my attention to anything specific. After a moment, I opened my eyes. There was no need to blink against the sunlight, instead, I welcomed it.

“Well done,” I heard my Mother’s voice from behind me.

I stiffened a bit, surprised at her presence. I hadn’t sensed her approach, and even after I stopped cultivating, it had snuck up on me. But the calm of my meditation still lingered. Smoothly, I stood up and turned around, bowing to her.

Mother wore the same dress she had the last time. The colors of twilight gave the white fabric an orange tint. Beside her, Ling Ta stood, arms crossed.

He gave me a nod. “You got into the late part of the third stage. Well into it, I’d say.”

I walked closer to them. “Thank you. I don’t feel much stronger.”

“Hmm.” Mother eyed me thoughtfully. “I’d say you are, just not in the obvious way.”

Beside her, my Teacher stiffened. He shot her a sideways glance, but didn’t comment.

I raised an eyebrow at Mother. “Oh?”

“I sensed the way you submerged into the qi. There was something … odd. A few patterns I haven’t quite seen before.” Mother cocked her head. “You progressed quite quickly, but your handling of qi changed. Especially the way you drew it in. This is more than a normal moment of enlightenment.”

I frowned thoughtfully. Somehow, I think I know what she means. I did see qi differently. Still do.

“Let me try something.” I turned around and focused on the closest earthen pillar.

Closing my eyes, I sensed the qi around me, focusing on the object. Slowly, I started my breathing pattern. Then I mentally reached out to the qi gathered around and through the pillar. It was strange, heavy and cumbersome. Unlike light or darkness qi, it didn’t yield to my grasp.

But I didn’t let that stop me. I looked deeper, focusing on the qi, on the way it belonged to the same qi everywhere, only taking on its own distinct flavor. I could see how it related to the qi around it, including the light from the sun and the darkness of the shade it cast. But I dug deeper yet again, until I saw the make-up of earth qi, or at least the qi attached to this part of the earth.

Laboriously, I drew it closer, coaxing and prodding it to me. When it arrived, I took it in. My lungs didn’t want to accept it, my breath stuttering until I smoothed it out. My meridians hindered it, letting it clog them, their shape bearing down. But I exerted my will and drew it forward, into my dantian. Here, I made my light and darkness move aside, making a bit of room for the earth qi.

Outside, someone made noise, but I ignored it. It took constant concentration to maintain the bit of earth qi in my core. I pushed it out, the meridians struggling under the unfamiliar load even more, but I persevered. Finally, it reached my hand, and I pushed it out completely, shaping it into a formless substance around it.

When I opened my eyes, my right hand was coated in hardened earth. The Stone Fist technique. Let’s see. It was the only earth technique I knew, a simple one I’d stumbled across in one of the books I’d read. With a light step, I crossed the meters to the nearest pillar. Then I punched it.

Stone flew in all directions. I shook some remaining clumps from my hand and flexed it, but I didn’t even feel bruised. The pillar had a large crater inside it. I could have done the same just with my enhanced strength, but it had been a bit easier like this.

“Well, that settles it,” Mother said, coming to a stop beside me. She smiled in obvious satisfaction. “You have a special ability.”

Ling Ta trailed after her. “Impressive, truly. You have a blessed daughter, Your Majesty.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “A special ability, huh?” I could use an OP cheat!

Mother snorted. “Don’t look so smug. We haven’t determined how strong it’s going to be yet.”

I sighed, but nodded in agreement. “Well, I don’t think it’s really about controlling qi. I could use earth qi, but it was a struggle all the way. I don’t see that getting better, either — my cultivation just isn’t suited to it.”

“That’s my assessment as well,” Mother agreed. “The capacity to manipulate qi not of your affinity is extraordinarily rare and needs experience you lack. I think what you have is an improved understanding. An intuition about the truth of qi, or perhaps abstract concepts. It allows you the understanding necessary to use qi of a particular affinity, even one you have no bond to, but it would need an effort of will to overcome the natural antagonism towards foreign qi.”

“An improved intuition?” I asked.

“Yes. Not only were you able to do this, you knew that you could. That’s telling. And it rests on your understanding of what you sensed.”

“So, my superpower is ‘getting it’.” I chuckled. “Honestly, that sounds right. I can’t wait to see how it will help me with my studies. But what are these abilities?”

Mother started walking from the courtyard, and I fell into step beside her. After a moment, she replied in English, “For us, it’s like a bloodline thing, coupled with our soul journeys. But there are other ways to get such a unique ability.”

“So it’s common?”

“No.” She chuckled. “Far from it. Only a few even among our family have one. When we do, it usually shows up shortly after our soul journey. But don’t let it get to your head. Yours is nice — honestly, I’m almost jealous — but you shouldn’t overestimate it. I’ve read of others that are plain unbelievable.”

“Like what?”

“Imagine if your ability extended further. Instead of understanding things and thus using some foreign qi with strict limitations, someone can simply use it all. They don’t have an affinity because all affinities are theirs, and cultivating any strengthens their control over all. Think about what that could mean in combat.”

I whistled. “Okay, that would be a real cheat. So, my ability is above average, but not at the peak of what’s possible?”

“That’s a good assessment.”

She sped up, but I hurried to keep pace with her, staying close. Now that she’d shown up, this was my chance to talk to her. “So, what’s yours?”

Mother glanced at me and smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I pouted. But after she gave no reaction, I dropped it. Just another thing to figure out. I bet it helps her with ruling. So I switched tracks. “Are these abilities related to the genius memory thing?”

She slowed down a bit. “Probably. Neither of those is well understood, despite what some scholars claim. And speaking of memory, I think we’ll need to see about a change in your status. But that can wait for a bit.”

Why I am I not getting a good feeling about this?

But by this point, we’d reached the entrance to the palace. Everyone who passed us scattered and went to their knees. I stopped talking, simply following Mother as she strode along.