The Immortal Commoner: Sowing Chaos

Another day, another scratch on the wall. Chen Feng meticulously carved a new line into the damp stone, the sharp crystal scraping against the rough surface. Each mark was becoming a little ritual, a small defiance against the timeless void of the cave. He squinted at his handiwork, a chaotic series of uneven dashes, clustered and spaced out in a way that probably made no sense to anyone else.

Time? Weeks? Eons? He honestly had no clue. It was all just… blurs of light and dark, hunger pangs, and the repetitive crunch of fruit. "Maybe I should start naming the days?" he mused, scratching his chin, sending a cascade of dust motes dancing in the faint light filtering from… somewhere. "Monday, Tuesday, Still-Tuesday, Super-Tuesday… No, that's just confusing. Perhaps… Stone Day, Fruit Day, Echo Day… nah, too dramatic. Scratch Day? Wall Day? Okay, focus, Chen Feng, focus."

He trailed off, his gaze drifting downwards, past his fruit-stained tunic and landing with a mild jolt of surprise on his own torso. "Whoa there, buddy," he said to his… chest, poking himself gingerly. "You're looking a little… earthy." He plucked at his clothes. Dust and grime, a charming mix of cave floor and fruit juice residue, clung to him like a second, rather unpleasant, skin. He shuddered internally. "Right, a bath. Definitely bath time. Before I start growing mushrooms or something."

He cast his mind back through his hazy memories of cave exploration. Vague images of tunnels and chambers flickered in his mind. Then it clicked. A smaller cave he'd stumbled upon during one of his earlier, more directionless wanderings. A cave with a pond. Not a puddle, mind you, a proper pond. "Come to think of it, that water looked awfully… clean," Chen Feng pondered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, mentally charting a course towards the tunnel that hopefully led to watery salvation. "Cleaner than anything else around here, anyway. Cleaner than *me*, for sure."

He navigated the familiar tunnel, the crystal walls reflecting the dim light in fractured patterns. The air grew slightly cooler as he approached his destination, a subtle dampness clinging to the stone. And then, he was there. He arrived at the pond cave, pushing aside a curtain of hanging moss. And yes, the water was still there, serene and undisturbed, reflecting the faint light like a dark mirror. He cautiously approached the edge, peering into the depths. It looked impossibly clear, devoid of any murkiness that seemed to be the cave's default setting. He dipped a finger in tentatively, expecting the usual chill cave water.

"Whoa!" A jolt, not unpleasant, but definitely surprising, shot up his arm, making him retract his hand instantly. His eyes widened. What in the…? He stared at the pond, then at his finger, then back at the pond. "Cool," he murmured, testing the water again, this time a bit braver, dipping in up to his wrist. The tingling sensation returned, that strange, lively jolt, but now he leaned into it, curiosity overriding caution. "Literally cool, and figuratively… wow."

With a shrug that telegraphed a mixture of resignation and sudden recklessness, he plunged in. Clothes and all. The icy water enveloped him completely, stealing his breath for a startled moment. Shockingly cold at first, so cold it was almost painful, then… the sharp chill began to recede, replaced by a spreading wave of… soothing. Amazingly soothing. Like pressing into a deep muscle ache, but for his entire being. He floated for a moment, limbs spread out, letting the strange, vibrant chill wash over him, seep into him. It wasn't just cold; it felt… invigorating.

Like tiny needles, gentle and insistent, pricking his skin, waking him up from the inside out. His senses sharpened. He could hear the drip of water from the cave ceiling with unusual clarity, smell the faint earthy scent of the cave walls, even feel the subtle textures of his own clothes against his skin with heightened awareness. Chen Feng resurfaced, shaking the water from his hair like a wet dog, spraying droplets in an arc around him. He sputtered for a moment, then took a deep, cleansing breath. He felt… different. More alert. More… something. "Did I just accidentally stumble into some sort of natural spa?" he chuckled, wiping water from his eyes. "Though I'm pretty sure most spas don't involve full submersion in near-freezing water."

He splashed his face repeatedly, the water beading and rolling off his skin in an unusual way, as if it was repelling him instead of clinging to him. He blinked, staring at his wet hand, the water shimmering in the dim light. Then, a thought struck him with the force of a minor cave-in. "Cultivation world, right? Qi, spirit energy, all that jazz." He wrung out his sodden shirt, water pooling on the cave floor, his mind racing, connecting the dots he hadn't even realized were there. "And I'm the talentless herb gatherer who fell into a hole because… well, because of gravity and bad luck, mostly."

But even a talentless herb gatherer knew a few things. Living in a world powered by cultivation, constantly hearing whispers of legendary techniques and miraculous elixirs, some basic knowledge seeped in even if you were stubbornly un-talented. Everyone knew a little about Qi, the fundamental energy of cultivation. He'd heard tales, seen glimpses in the hurried movements of cultivators in town, sensed a faint energy in the herbs he picked… and suddenly, the pond made a lot more sense. Like a half-formed equation clicking into place.

"Wait a minute," he murmured, staring at the still water, his reflection wavering back at him – a slightly cleaner, dripping version of his former self. "That invigorating feeling… the way the water feels… this isn't just any pond, is it?" He reached out again, slower this time, swirling his hand in the water, watching the ripples spread. The cool, vibrant energy pulsed around his fingers, stronger now that he was actively paying attention. It wasn't just cold; it felt… alive.

"This… this is Qi, isn't it? Pure Qi." His eyes widened, slowly at first, then rapidly, mirroring the expanding ripples in the pond. "A Qi pond! No freakin' way!" A strangled laugh escaped his lips, a mixture of disbelief and giddy excitement. He started pacing the edge of the pond, splashing water everywhere in his enthusiasm, heedless of the droplets soaking into his already damp clothes. "Seriously? Me? Mr. No-Talent-McHerb-Picker stumbles into a Qi pond? In a random cave? Talk about improbable."

"Okay, okay, Chen Feng, calm down," he told himself, holding up his hands as if to physically restrain his excitement. He took a deep breath, which was surprisingly easier now, smoother, filled with… well, Qi maybe? The air around the pond certainly felt different. "What even *is* a Qi pond exactly?" he pondered, scratching his head again, even though it was still dripping wet. "Time for a Chen Feng explanation session, starring yours truly. And maybe some imaginary audience members. Let's call them… Kevin and Debra."

"Right," he began, adopting a lecturing tone and gesturing towards the empty cave. "A Qi pond. Basically, imagine spirit energy, Qi, right? Normally it's kinda spread out, like… butter scraped over too much bread. Hard to get a good bite, you know?" He paused for dramatic effect, imagining Kevin and Debra nodding sagely. "You can feel it a little in certain places, in nature, maybe in some herbs… but it's diluted, weak sauce."

"But sometimes," he continued, gesturing wildly with his dripping hands, sending arcs of water into the air that shimmered briefly before splashing back down, "sometimes in special places, spirit energy… clumps up. It gathers together like… like ants at a picnic, but instead of ants and crumbs, it's pure, unadulterated Qi. And instead of a picnic blanket, it's… uh… this pond!" He finished with a flourish, pointing at the water with dramatic emphasis. "Think of it like… the picnic blanket *is* made of crumbs! Or, Qi-crumbs, if you will. Okay, terrible analogy. Debra, don't judge."

He shook his head, momentarily lost in the absurdity of explaining Qi ponds to imaginary people. "Focus, Chen Feng. Right. Qi Pond. Hotspot. Energy concentrate. Got it?" He gave himself a thumbs up. "So, a Qi pond is basically a hotspot for spirit energy. It's like finding a fountain of youth, except instead of just making you younger, it can… you know… maybe help you not be completely useless in a cultivation world?" A surge of hope, fragile but persistent, flickered in his chest. He looked at the pond, then at his reflection, a hopeful glint replacing the usual weary resignation in his eye. "Maybe? Please?" He mumbled the last word almost as a prayer, directed at the shimmering, Qi-infused water. Maybe, just maybe, his luck was finally about to change.