Diary

When he had first gotten this incomplete Handwritten Note, Chu Zheng had intended to use it to learn more about this era.

However, Chu Zheng had used every daily refreshed repair opportunity on the Grand Cycle Qi Circulation Compendium, and afterward, he had simply tossed it aside.

Aged Journal (Zero Order): The journal of Song Wenshu, fourth-generation head of a Song Family branch, recording the events of his life. More than half had once been burned away in a great fire, but it was now restored whole.

After repairing it, Chu Zheng leaned against the couch and opened its yellowed title page.

Great Zhou Calendar, 1549, fourth day of the third month. Spring thunder had begun to rumble. I was blessed with a son. Suddenly inspired, I wished to leave something behind for my descendants, and thus put brush to paper to record the passing years.

Great Zhou Calendar, 1550, tenth day of the fifth month. Glad tidings arrived from my younger brother, from whom I had heard nothing for long. He said an Immortal Seed had emerged in his household, one of excellent aptitude. It should protect the Lineage's prosperity for a thousand years. I am somewhat envious.

Great Zhou Calendar, 1551, fourth day of the sixth month. My first wife bore another son. By clan rules, the eldest son must be sent away. Though reluctant, I spent gold and silver to purchase great quantities of earthly treasures and heavenly rarities, then sent them to the Phantom Spirit Sect and asked a Supreme Immortal to examine the bones of both sons. Both possessed mortal bodies. I returned disappointed and, helplessly, sent my eldest son away.

Great Zhou Calendar, 1562, third day of the seventh month. Dozens of letters sent to my younger brother have gone unanswered, vanishing like stones sinking into the sea. It has been eight years since I received a letter from him. I fear the worst. Grief-stricken, I drank heavily for several days.

Great Zhou Calendar, 1565, thirteenth day of the fourth month. An old hidden injury has flared up. The pain in my chest is unbearable, and I feel my days are numbered. I set out for where my younger brother lived, hoping to uncover the truth of those early events.

Great Zhou Calendar, 1567, twenty-second day of the ninth month. I learned that my younger brother's entire family had been exterminated. I searched bitterly for their Remnant Bones, but found nothing. That Immortal Seed has vanished without a trace. This ruined body cannot hold on for long. After much deliberation, I left people behind to continue the search and returned home first.

Great Zhou Calendar, 1568, third day of the third month. After returning home, I fell ill and could not rise again. My youngest son married at the beginning of the year, and my daughter-in-law is now with child.

Great Zhou Calendar, second day of the first month, 1569. A carrier pigeon suddenly brought word. My younger brother's Remnant Bones had been gathered and buried by that Immortal Seed. Later, the Immortal Seed sought vengeance but failed, was ambushed, and died. The murderer is unknown.

The journal ended abruptly there, with nothing written afterward.

A highly conspicuous dark brown bloodstain soaked the page. The state of mind of the journal's owner as he wrote these words was easy to imagine.

Chu Zheng closed the journal, his brow tightly furrowed. He had vaguely grasped a hint of something, yet could not seize the crux of it.

It was now Great Zhou Calendar, 1702. This journal was more than a hundred and twenty years old.

He had long expected that feuds and killings existed among Immortal Sects.

But in this journal, the family of that younger brother had suffered disaster after producing an Immortal Seed, and the Immortal Seed had later been ambushed and killed as well. It was hard to call that a mere coincidence.

Or rather, the original target had been that Immortal Seed which had suddenly appeared.

Conflict and suppression between Immortal Sects spilling over onto mortal families was all too normal. A casual glance was enough to grind an aristocratic family with a century of heritage into dust.

News of Song Lingqing's return to Song Manor the day before had already leaked. If people from other Immortal Sects wished to make a move against Song Lingqing, then the Song Family was the best point of attack—perfect as leverage.

Thinking of the various abnormalities that had appeared in Song Manor recently, Chu Zheng became wary. Song Tonghai and his daughter had likely already noticed something.

Perhaps he needed to prepare early.

As he stroked the Aged Journal in his hand, Chu Zheng's expression shifted, and a thought suddenly emerged in his mind.

Having lived another life, should he leave behind some traces to prove that he had been here?

This world was so perilous. Who knew what day he might die amid turmoil, everything turning to nothing.

But if... he could leave behind some traces, then perhaps in the distant future, someone would follow his footprints and see his story.

Whether that story was long or short, full of twists and turns, or utterly ordinary, someone would see it in the end.

Just as he had in his Previous Life, spending his entire life excavating the traces of ancient people.

Now, he too was an ancient person.

After pondering briefly, Chu Zheng rose. Bathed in moonlight, he found a blank booklet, ground ink, and set brush to paper.

New Calendar, sixteenth day of the first month. I have just set foot upon the path of cultivation, and my feelings are many. The divide between Immortal and Mortal is like the Heavenly Abyss before one's face. Walking through this world is like treading on thin ice.

Chu Zheng did not use the Great Zhou Calendar. Instead, he used the day he had first arrived as the beginning of his diary.

Watching the ink gradually dry, satisfaction flashed in Chu Zheng's eyes. He had practiced calligraphy for many years. Though he could not be called a master, it was still presentable.

Perhaps some future person would happen upon the diary now in his hands and see the life he was about to live.

After indulging in self-sentiment for a while, Chu Zheng contentedly put away the booklet. He looked up at the sky. The moon had passed the zenith, and the next day had arrived.

After carefully hiding the diary, Chu Zheng went to the courtyard and once more circulated the Grand Cycle Qi Circulation Compendium, drawing Moonlight Essence into his body.

After nine Great Cycles, the sky had already begun to brighten faintly.

The Storehouse was nearly finished with its work, and Chu Zheng was no longer needed to help. He still had plenty of free time.

Therefore, he did not stop cultivating. He continued circulating his cycles, absorbing the first thread of Great Sun Qi from the rising sun.

With every breath, Chu Zheng could feel his body growing lighter, while his Tendons and Bones became ever tougher. The strength within his flesh and blood was also continuously growing.

This feeling of gradually becoming stronger gave Chu Zheng a comfort he had never experienced before.

With yesterday's experience, Chu Zheng circulated his cycles even faster this time. By the time he completed eighteen cycles, noon was still far off.

The inexhaustible energy in his body drove Chu Zheng to perform several sets of Body-Fitting Fist in succession. Only after he was drenched in sweat from head to toe did his breathing become much smoother.

After catching his breath for a moment, Chu Zheng suddenly noticed someone standing not far away.

She wore a long azure dress embroidered with flowers blooming in splendid profusion. A jade belt cinched her waist, and beneath that willow-slender waist were a pair of long, straight legs brimming with indescribable explosive power.

"Greetings, Eldest Young Lady."

Chu Zheng frowned almost imperceptibly and bowed.

Song Lingxue stood some distance away, a clear note of surprise in her black-and-white eyes.

After regaining her senses, Song Lingxue lightly brushed aside her hair and lowered her gaze, concealing her awkwardness. "Your Body-Fitting Fist... is practiced to an exceptional degree of proficiency."

They had not met for a long time. Seeing Chu Zheng again, Song Lingxue felt momentarily dazed.

The last time they had met, the impression Chu Zheng gave her had already changed considerably.

This time, the change was even greater. In her perception, Chu Zheng seemed to possess an additional gentle, warm aura. It was clean, like the rising sun—vigorous and full of life—and made people unconsciously want to draw close to him.

If Chu Zheng had known Song Lingxue's thoughts, he would not have found them strange.

Qi Cultivators used Yin-Yang Qi to temper their physiques. Their aura naturally became purer, as did the Qi within their bodies.

Those with profound cultivation did not even need to act; their aura alone could subdue auspicious beasts and draw the spirits of plants and trees.