Qi Cultivation Starting from the Repair Panel

She didn't even turn her head to look at Chu Zheng, as if he didn't exist at all.

Bang—

The heavy, old wooden door shut tightly behind her.

The echo of the door hitting the frame was particularly piercing in the silent, cold night.

The cold moonlight spilled down, casting a thin shadow on the ground. Chu Zheng's expression momentarily froze, and an inexplicable discomfort arose in his heart.

He stood before the tightly closed courtyard gate, the autumn night's wind brushing against his thin, tattered clothes, the chill biting.

After a while, Chu Zheng calmed his emotions, walking slowly to the side of the door, leaning against the rough, cold clay wall, and sat down cross-legged.

He lifted his head, gazing at the night sky, where a silver moon hung high, its cool radiance spreading across the earth, moonlight like water.

After a long time, Chu Zheng took a deep breath of the chilly night air, slowly closed his eyes, discarding miscellaneous thoughts, sinking his spirit inward.

The faint Yuan Qi that had been arduously gathered during the day slowly circulated in the depths of the Dantian, beginning to operate the Qi-refining Technique, entering his daily cultivation.

...

...

A night of quiet cultivation.

In the blink of an eye, the moon's shadow slipped westward, and the eastern sky began to show signs of dawn.

The cold of the night was gradually dispelled, the faint light of morning quietly creeping up the low clay wall.

Beneath the cold root of the wall, Chu Zheng sat like a stone sculpture, his spirit immersed in the slow Circulation of that faint Yuan Qi.

Every time he moved his intent, it felt like trudging through a sticky quagmire, far from the once exhilarating surge like the rushing Star River.

The excruciating slowness of the cultivation speed was like cutting flesh with a dull blade, undeniably a form of torture.

Each absorption of Yuan Qi demanded immense mental effort, this efficiency even more challenging than when he first embarked on the path of cultivation in his memory.

The foundational constitution of this body was worse than he anticipated.

However, Chu Zheng quickly adjusted his mindset, as the Qi-refining Technique did not have high requirements for aptitude, it all depended on comprehension.

Fortunately, his comprehension was decent.

Creak—

A slightly grating sound of friction broke the morning silence as the heavy, old wooden door was pulled open from inside.

Xue Qing strode out.

She changed out of yesterday's market-worn old cloth clothes, wearing a clean and neat dark gray tunic, washed to a pale hue, which accentuated her tall and slender figure, adding a touch of heroic spirit.

Her black hair was simply tied behind her head, revealing a smooth forehead and sharp eyes and brows.

Her eyes immediately fell on the curled-up figure at the base of the wall.

Chu Zheng maintained his meditative posture, eyes closed, his breathing long and faint, as if still asleep.

The night's dew had soaked his ragged clothes and messy hair, making him look even more disheveled.

Xue Qing's brows furrowed slightly, her clear eyes flashing a habitual impatience, but more so a helplessness as if she couldn't shake off a persistent bother.

She did not call out to wake Chu Zheng, as if afraid that waking him would lead to more entanglement.

Silently, she turned away, her steps light as she retreated into the courtyard, then quickly returned with three steaming hot white buns in her hand.

She walked up to Chu Zheng, bent down, her actions deliberately detached, carefully placing the three buns into the broken bowl in front of Chu Zheng.

Chu Zheng did not open his eyes until Xue Qing left, then slowly opened his eyes.

He did not follow after Xue Qing, instead picking up the bowl and swallowing the three buns, his gaze falling on the moat not far away.