Zhang Nian stepped into the resting room, and the quiet atmosphere inside gradually calmed her previously excited heart.
Following Xu Wendong's instructions, she walked slowly to the center of the room and cautiously sat cross-legged on the bed.
However, for someone like her who had no experience in meditation, entering the state immediately was easier said than done.
She straightened her back, trying to maintain good posture, but soon her legs were overcome with a tingling numbness, like countless tiny needles gently pricking and spreading.
Her brow furrowed slightly, and lightly biting her lower lip, she persevered with effort.
As time ticked by, Zhang Nian started to feel restless.
She secretly opened her eyes and looked around; the resting room was simply and elegantly decorated, with a few deeply meaningful paintings on the walls, but at this moment, she was in no mood to appreciate them.
