A few days passed, like Dian said they would, and the rib thing eased up.
The projection didn't, but the rib thing did, which Xuan chose to be grateful for on principle. You took your wins where you could get them.
Three feet had become five, five had become eight, and at some point during the second week of projection training Xuan had sent a vibration clean across the room and it had hit the wall hard enough to leave a faint crack in the plaster, which he was pretty sure was an accident but was choosing not to clarify.
Dian had looked at the crack for a long moment.
Then he looked at Xuan.
"Again," he said.
So Xuan tried to do it again, and it fizzled out at six feet, which was the most embarrassing thing that had happened to him that week, and that week had included him walking into a doorframe because he was listening to something three rooms over and not paying attention to what was directly in front of him. That had been a low point.
