Chapter 422: The First Signs

Amelia and Stan stepped out into the cool evening air together, the restaurant doors closing softly behind them.

The city lights of Inksea stretched along the promenade in soft gold and white, reflecting off the dark glass of the surrounding buildings. Distant engines hummed. A light breeze carried the faint scent of rain on pavement mixed with the residual warmth of the restaurant’s kitchen.

Amelia’s personal car was still in another country.

The vehicles she had arrived with back then, days ago when she came to thank Stan for saving her; those rows of sleek rentals arranged alongside the Vanguard, had been temporary, booked after she flew into Velaris for the talent show.

Now that the event was over and her schedule had shifted back abroad, she had nothing of her own on the ground, at least she has nothing in Velaris and Inksea since she’s not based here...

Taking a deep breath, she reached into her bag for her phone, already preparing to hail a taxi, when Stan’s voice cut in, light and teasing.

"Why use a taxi when I’m here?"

She looked up. He was smiling, that familiar playful curve at the corner of his mouth.

Before she could answer, his hands settled around her waist in one smooth, natural motion, not forceful, not hesitant, simply certain.

The contact was warm through the fabric of her clothes. Amelia shivered once, a small involuntary reaction.

She was not used to being touched like this. Intimate, deliberate, close. Yet with him the sensation felt strangely right, as though her body had already decided it belonged there even if her mind was still catching up.

’I like this,’ she thought quietly. ’I like having his hands on me. I like how steady it feels.’

The admission was soft and private. She had spent so long keeping careful distance that allowing herself to lean into the feeling still carried a quiet thrill. His touch was reassuring without demanding anything. Secure. She did not pull away.

A taxi eased to the curb nearby, headlights washing briefly across the sidewalk.

The driver had seen them standing close and assumed the man was saying goodbye. He waited, engine idling, already calculating the short fare.

Then Stan guided Amelia toward the corner. They walked past the waiting taxi and around to where the dark Lamborghini sat under the streetlights, its surface catching fractured ribbons of gold.

The driver’s expression shifted as he watched them go. He had been circling for hours, burning fuel on empty streets, dealing with the usual thin trickle of late-evening passengers. Finally a possible fare had appeared, only for the opportunity to vanish because the man in the expensive coat had decided to give her a ride himself. ℯℯ𝘭.

’That bastard just took my customer,’ the driver thought, frustration rising sharp and tired. ’He’s probably offering her a lift back to wherever she’s staying.’

It was not pure anger. It was the accumulated weight of a long day, fuel receipts, quiet streets, the constant pressure of making enough to cover the next tank. He grit his teeth and called out through the open window.

"Miss, you’re not needing the taxi again?"

Amelia turned. Stan’s right arm remained comfortably draped around her waist. With his free hand he raised a brief, polite gesture toward the driver.

"No. Sorry for the disturbance."

The simple courtesy took some of the edge off the driver’s irritation. The man did not recognize Stan.

He lived in the same city but rarely scrolled through the accounts that tracked young celebrities or the newly wealthy.

To him, Stan was simply another well-dressed stranger. He looked from the Lamborghini to the man standing beside it and thought, ’He’s probably the one who owns that car.’

Yet to the man surprised that the expected arrogance was missing, no dismissive glance, no condescending tone. Just a calm, almost ordinary politeness. Stan even said sorry

But despite this, the driver couldn’t help but admire Stan’s life...

The observation sat uncomfortably. ’Why does life have to be so unbalanced?’ he wondered. ’No matter how hard I work, I can only look up at people like him.’

He had spent the day driving, paying for fuel, collecting thin fares, while someone around his own age or younger could casually claim a car that cost more than most people earned in years. The world had never been fair. Being bitter would not change the fuel gauge or the next rent payment.

Envy lingered, but so did a reluctant acknowledgment that the other man had at least spoken to him like a person. The frustration settled into quiet resignation. He put the taxi into gear and pulled away, taillights disappearing into the flow of evening traffic.

Stan had already started walking again when he suddenly stopped.

His eyes widened a fraction. Something unusual brushed against his senses, Qi, not drifting idly through the air, but actively converging. It gathered toward the departing taxi, drawn to the driver himself as though answering a call from within.

’Impossible...’

The pattern was familiar. The same quiet resonance he had once felt around his sister. The taxi driver, an ordinary man with no known ties to cultivation, had somehow comprehended a Dao and gained the ability to interact with Qi.

Before Stan could examine it further, the system replied to the questions in his mind...

[He has comprehended the Dao of Life.]

[Through his resonance with the Dao of Life, he can now interact with Qi.]

[Qi is converging within his body and beginning to form a dantian.]

[The Qi is also actively tempering his body, strengthening his vitality and physical constitution.]

The implications settled quickly. The Return of Qi was not merely flooding the world with energy.

Certain people were naturally resonating with different Dao principles. When that resonance reached a threshold, they awakened and began to interact with Qi on their own.

Stan wondered, briefly, how many other ordinary people across the world might be experiencing the same quiet shift at this very moment.

Amelia noticed he had stopped. She looked up at him, brow faintly furrowed.

"Is something wrong?"

Stan shook his head. "No. It’s nothing."

Only then did he realize he had unconsciously paused their walk. Amelia studied him a moment longer, sensing the slight change, but she did not press. She trusted him enough to let the moment pass.