"I rember."
Seeing Fang Cheng bring it up, Lin Chuqiao adjusted the strands of hair around her ear and recalled:
"At that ti, we discussed how ditation schools around the world are diverse, but whether it’s Eastern Zen, Taoist introspection, or Western mindfulness ditation, transcendental ditation, or India’s yoga ditation, their core philosophies are very similar."
"All of them rely use thods like adjusting the breath and silently chanting a spell to forcibly cut off perception of the outside world, pursuing a state of ’ditation’ and ’stillness,’ ultimately allowing consciousness to sink into an ethereal realm."
She paused, sowhat puzzled, looking at Fang Cheng:
"Why did you suddenly bring this up?"
Fang Cheng did not answer directly, and instead spoke calmly:
"That’s right, the mainstream practice emphasizes ’stillness.’"
"Most schools employ a process of reduction, stripping the five senses layer by layer, eventually consolidating all thoughts, uniting the mind, and anchoring on a special target in the consciousness world."
"But this ti, I’d like to invite you to try a new thod, a more proactive cultivation technique."
"A new thod?"
Ye Zhiran adjusted his glasses, showing interest: "I’d be delighted to hear more."
"It’s very simple."
Fang Cheng’s tone beca sowhat subtle, as if guiding them into a special realm:
"Tonight, when you ditate, try altering the target you habitually anchor on in your consciousness."
"Don’t think of so illusory white light or a still lake, nor the vague, grand shadow in your subconscious."
He slightly tilted his head, his gaze seemingly penetrating through the body, reaching into the depths of their souls:
"Try visualizing first, silently reciting my na, and then let a sun, radiating golden light, gradually appear in your mind."
"The sun?"
Lin Chuqiao blinked, instinctively glancing at the setting sun outside the car window:
"Are you saying we should imagine you as the real sun?"
The remark sounded peculiar, carrying a hint of ambiguity and puzzlent.
Fang Cheng didn’t deny it; instead, a mysterious curve appeared at the corner of his mouth:
"You could understand it that way, but it’s not just an imagination; it’s a call at the spiritual level."
He slowed the car down, his gaze growing deep, his tone more distant:
"Compared to other ditation schools pursuing a ’stillness’ that is tranquil and unmoved like an ancient well, this cultivation thod is essentially a ’dynamic’ process."
"Imagine you’re in endless night and fog, lost, cold as ice."
"At that mont, a Great Sun rises slowly from the horizon, its golden rays piercing through the darkness like swords, shredding the fog."
"You’re no longer waiting in place; instead, you follow that light, running and moving towards where the sun rises."
"As the distance closes, you will feel warmth, feel life gradually reviving, light filling your vision, until... you are completely bathed in that overwhelming life force."
Fang Cheng gazed at the setting sun outside the window, the golden-red afterglow reflected in his eyes.
His voice was low and magnetic, as if painting an incredibly majestic picture.
"A call... dynamic..."
Ye Zhiran listened, his brows slightly furrowed.
As an experienced spiritual ability user, he clearly captured the unusual behind these words.
He pondered for a mont, then spoke:
"President, although in so ancient Esoteric Buddhism schools, there are indeed Magic Techniques to visualize the Self Buddha or Master for spiritual empowernt."
"But this usually requires years of devotion and extrely complex rituals, even needing the master’s personal blessing to establish a spiritual link."
"Now just imagining you as a conceptual ’sun’ without any dium, will it really be effective?"
"Whether it will be effective, only by trying will you know."
Fang Cheng didn’t elaborate much, just lightly smiled, giving them a aningful look through the rearview mirror:
"Perhaps, you’ll see so... unexpected scenery."
After saying this, silence descended once more in the car cabin.
Outside the window, the bustling silhouette of the city gradually blurred in the twilight.
The distant skyscrapers lit up with scattered lights, complenting the splendid sunset on the horizon.
In a trance, there was a strange texture of reality and illusion blending together.
Seeing Fang Cheng’s mysterious deanor, Lin Chuqiao couldn’t help but laugh softly, the initial hint of confusion transforming into curiosity:
"Alright, since it’s your command, I’ll give it a try. After all, it’s just ditation; even if it doesn’t work, there’s no loss."
"Indeed."
Ye Zhiran nodded.
Although doubts lingered in his mind, feeling it defied common sense, out of trust in Fang Cheng’s strength, he also decided to give it a try.
"Then tonight, I’ll try the thod you ntioned, President."
Fang Cheng smiled, his gaze shifted back to the front.
He hadn’t told the two that this was actually a crucial experint.
If successful, many unresolved problems would be easily solved.
The traffic on the highway thickened, with cars slowly moving across the river bridge.
In front, countless lights were already lit up.
After sending Lin Chuqiao and Ye Zhiran back to their residences, Fang Cheng drove towards Old Factory Street.
During the evening rush hour, the narrow streets of the old city were congested with all kinds of vehicles.
Electric scooters weaved nimbly through the gaps in the lines of cars like agile fish.
The sound of horns, shouts, and street vendors’ cries mixed together like a boiling pot of porridge.
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