When the driver saw Zhang Chen coming down from the mountain, joy appeared on his face. "You're finally back. This place feels so chilly and gloomy. I've had this uncomfortable feeling the whole time."
"Let's go." Zhang Chen did not say much to the driver. After getting into the carriage, he closed his eyes and continued cultivating the flow of qi within his body.
At Zhang Chen's realm, he could cultivate whether walking, sitting, lying down, or standing. Cultivation had already become instinct to him.
The thin spiritual energy in the air gathered and entered through his nose and mouth, refining itself into his body bit by bit. Before long, the carriage returned to the Zhang Family estate. The atmosphere in the courtyard was somewhat strange. Zhang Chen strode inside and saw a familiar middle-aged man—his father in this life, Zhang Fang.
"I heard from Zhang Xiao and the others that you were released?" Zhang Fang stood in the courtyard, looking at Zhang Chen with excitement written all over his face. He seemed to have deliberately waited there for him.
After all, he was his own son. There was no reason not to love him.
Zhang Chen glanced at Zhang Fang. The man's concern for him was genuine, but so was his neglect. In Zhang Fang's eyes, Zhang Chen would never matter more than the harmony and stability of that "little family" of his.
To preserve the completeness of that little family, he had always stood aside and allowed his stepmother to mistreat Zhang Chen, watching coldly and silently, tacitly accepting her harsh treatment of him.
"I was released," Zhang Chen answered. He brushed past him and turned into his own room.
Zhang Fang watched Zhang Chen's back and followed him into the room. Seeing how dilapidated it was, he