Qi Cultivation Starting from the Repair Panel

Within the entirety of the Great Zhou Dynasty, the Hidden Immortal Sect was an exceptionally unique existence; other than the occasional Immortal descending to leave behind legends here and there, there was absolutely no information disclosed.

Perhaps some people held the secrets of cultivation, but these were not secrets that Chu Zheng, a mere servant, could access.

Information isolation existed no matter the era.

Chu Zheng always believed that the most valuable thing in the world was information—what seemed trivial to some could change the fate of an ordinary person if it fell into their hands.

A moment later, Chu Zheng had already learned the whereabouts of Song Lingqing.

He wasn't the only one interested in this Second Miss; she was easy to find.

......

......

The normally unlit corridors were now brightly illuminated, the ancient bronze lamps burned vigorously, emitting a light smoke that was slightly irritating.

The wind had picked up again at night, and light snow drifted down.

It had turned completely dark before Chu Zheng hurried to the main hall in the front courtyard.

The main doors were open, just in time for the serving of meals, a line of maids carrying wooden trays filed in.

There were not many servants lingering at the door; many maids and servants passed by the hall, stealing a glance before hurrying off to satisfy their curiosity.

There were so few novelties in the residence; even this glimpse was enough to fuel their gossip for a while.

Chu Zheng stopped at a corner of the corridor, somewhat at a loss; in his excitement, he had forgotten his status.

Without being summoned, he had no right to step foot inside the main hall.

The consequences of barging in might be more than he could bear, but if he didn't go inside now, there was no guarantee Song Lingqing wouldn't leave by tomorrow.

After weighing it for a long time, Chu Zheng decided against taking the risk and turned to head back to the Filth Room. Tomorrow was another day, and even if he missed this chance, he could still try other methods.

He had only taken a few steps when he heard footsteps from three people approaching; a group turned the corner.

Xiao Cai, holding a lantern, led the way, followed closely by a man and a woman, with Song Yun at the end.

The woman was dressed in a light cyan long dress, her eyes hid a sharp brilliance like the morning glow, her appearance was pretty, her hair arranged in an Immortal's bun, secured with a golden belt, her waist slender and demeanor captivating.

Chu Zheng was stunned for a moment; he searched his memory and recognized the woman.

Song Residence's elder daughter, Song Lingxue.

Today, she wore light makeup, evidently having taken great care in her appearance. Her features were softer, less sharp than the image Chu Zheng had of her in his mind, and more gentle.

Chu Zheng's gaze didn't linger on Song Lingxue but quickly moved to the man walking at her side, and his heart suddenly sank.

The man appeared to be just over twenty, dressed in deep blue brocade with silver patterns, his build was tall, his celestial dome full, his step light, as if walking on clouds, making no sound at all.

The instant he made eye contact with this man, Chu Zheng felt a chill run down his spine, his muscles trembled uncontrollably, and he involuntarily lowered his head.

This was an oppression emanating from the life force itself.

Chu Zheng had felt this pressure once before in his past life, when he had visited a Heavenly Master of the Taoist School to seek advice on repairing an incomplete magic artifact.

On that occasion, he realized the inherent differences between people.

The Heavenly Master explained that a human body was composed of the brain, blood, flesh, bones, marrow, channels, and meridians.

The strength of these components determined the strength of a person's life force, this strength brought about the most tangible feelings—emotional changes.

When one's life force was suppressed, it would involuntarily lead to anxiety, panic, tension, fear, and other negative emotions.

Chu Zheng lowered his gaze, his fingertips trembling slightly on their own; he knew well why this was happening—his adrenaline was spiking dramatically at the moment.

The Heavenly Master he had met in his past life lived to be one hundred and eighteen, his mastery of Daoist teachings had reached the Transformation Realm, yet the man before him looked only to be about twenty!

Moreover, the oppressive feeling emanating from that Heavenly Master back then was far less intense than what was being experienced at this moment.

Without a doubt, this person must be from the Immortal Sect.

"Chu Zheng?"

Song Lingxue slightly furrowed her brow and glanced at the hall not far away, her frown deepening.

Walking at the back, Song Yun's expression subtly changed, and he glanced at Song Lingxue, wanting to speak but then hesitating.

Upon seeing Chu Zheng, he intended to scold him but felt it was not appropriate to speak out at this moment; moreover, he was just a servant. In this situation, it wasn't his place to speak.

"Miss, may peace be with you."

Chu Zheng bowed deeply, stepped aside, and made way.

"Enough."

Song Lingxue observed Chu Zheng for a moment and sighed softly, her furrowed brow slowly relaxing as she spoke calmly:

"Ling Qing was just speaking of you. Come inside and let's talk."

With these words, she turned her head towards the man beside her and gave a slight, apologetic smile, "The household management is rather lacking, Superior Immortal, you must be amused by this."

The man shook his head slightly, remaining silent, simply standing there. Yet, his presence felt overwhelmingly strong.

Song Lingxue said no more, nodding to Xiao Cai to continue leading the way.

Chu Zheng hung his head low, his turbulent thoughts gradually calming. As the group walked past him, he silently followed behind Song Yun.

During their brief eye contact just now, Chu Zheng could not discern any emotional fluctuation in that man's eyes. It wasn't exactly like looking at an inanimate object, but certainly, it did not feel like he was looking at a fellow being.

Just as he had thought before, these cultivation people might not regard ordinary humans as their equals.

......

......

Inside the hall, bright lights shone everywhere, leaving no dark corners. A round table was placed in the center, laden with various delicacies, and the aroma was enticing.

A young woman sat at the head of the table in a white garment adorned with cloud patterns, her long hair casually draped by her side. Her features were as exquisite as a painting and her skin as fair as snow. At first glance, she bore some resemblance to Song Lingxue, but her figure was even more graceful and carried an added trace of immortal aura.

A middle-aged man sat by her side in a green robe, sporting a short beard—it was Patriarch of the Song family, Song Tonghai.

Only these two were at the table. Song Tonghai had lost his wife early and never remarried, only keeping two concubines in a separate courtyard. The vast Song Residence inevitably felt somewhat empty.

"Immortal Qin!"

Seeing the group enter, Song Tonghai's face lit up with a smile, and he immediately rose to greet them:

"Over the past few years, as per your instructions, I have collected many ancient relics; how are they? Are you satisfied?"

The man nodded slightly and flipped his palm, a brocade box appearing in his hand. He then tossed it to Song Tonghai:

"I am taking a few items, this is a token of my gratitude."

His tone was cold, colder than the snowstorm outside.

Seeing this, Chu Zheng couldn't help but be slightly moved; this was either teleportation or...

"It was no trouble at all; there is no need for gratitude."

Song Tonghai waved his hand, about to decline, but the man interrupted him:

"I never owe favors."

"Thank you, Superior Immortal, for your generous gift."

Song Tonghai's smile remained unchanged as he graciously accepted the brocade box and handed it to the maid behind him.

"Are you Chu Zheng?"

The woman sitting at the head of the table slowly raised her head, looking towards the corner, a trace of confusion in her eyes.