Supreme Immortal

In his previous life, Chu Zheng had heard far too many legends about immortals and gods. Naturally, he was endlessly curious about the "immortals" of this world.

Given his current circumstances, Chu Zheng had no way to come into contact with these so-called "immortals." Song Lingqing was his only possibility.

Throughout the Great Zhou Dynasty, the Hidden Immortal Sects were extremely special existences. Aside from the occasional immortal descending into the mortal world and leaving behind legends in various places, there was no information whatsoever.

Perhaps some people held the secrets of immortality cultivation, but that was not something a servant like Chu Zheng could ever reach.

Information barriers existed in every era.

Chu Zheng had always believed that the most valuable thing in the world was information. Information insignificant to certain people, once it fell into the hands of ordinary people, could be enough to change their fate.

Not long afterward, Chu Zheng had learned Song Lingqing's whereabouts.

He was not the only one interested in this Second Young Lady, so she was easy enough to find.

The corridors that were usually unlit now blazed with light. Grease burned fiercely in ancient bronze lamps, filling the air with a faint, somewhat pungent smoke.

The wind rose again at night, carrying scattered snowflakes through the air.

Only after night had thoroughly fallen did Chu Zheng hurry to the entrance of a main hall in the Front Courtyard.

The doors were open, and dinner was being served. A line of maids carrying wooden trays filed inside like fish swimming in a stream.

There were not many servants lingering before the doors. Many maids and servants passed by the hall, daring only to steal a glance before hurrying away, satisfying their curiosity in this manner.

There was too little fresh gossip in the manor. Even this single glance was enough for them to talk about in their spare time for days.

Chu Zheng stopped at a corner of the corridor, suddenly finding himself in a difficult position. He had come brimming with excitement, only to forget his own status.

Without being summoned, he had no right to set foot in the main hall.

He might not be able to bear the consequences of barging in, but if he did not enter now, Song Lingqing might leave tomorrow.

After weighing it for a long while, Chu Zheng still gave up on taking the risk. He turned to return to the Filth Room. There was plenty of time ahead; even if he missed this chance, he could try other methods.

He had taken only two steps when he heard the footsteps of three people. A group emerged from around the corner.

Xiao Cai carried a lantern at the front. A man and a woman followed close behind, while Song Yun brought up the rear.

The woman wore a pale blue-green gown. A hidden gleam lay in her eyes, bright as morning clouds, and her features were lovely. Her hair was arranged in a Flying Immortal bun, her waist bound with a golden silk belt. Slender-waisted and jade-straight, she cut a captivating figure.

Chu Zheng froze for a moment, searching through his memories before recognizing her.

The Eldest Young Lady of Song Manor, Song Lingxue.

She wore light makeup today and had clearly dressed with care. Her brows and eyes seemed gentler; compared to the impression Chu Zheng held in his mind, she had lost some of her sharpness and gained a touch more grace.

Chu Zheng's gaze did not linger on Song Lingxue. It quickly shifted to the man walking at her side, and his heart abruptly sank.

The man looked barely over twenty. He wore a deep-blue brocade robe patterned with silver, stood tall and straight, and had a broad, full forehead. His steps were light, as though he walked upon clouds, yet not a sound could be heard from his feet.

The instant Chu Zheng met his eyes, every hair on his body stood on end. His tendons and bones trembled faintly, and he lowered his head without control.

This was a sense of oppression originating from the magnetic field of life itself.

Chu Zheng had experienced this sort of oppression once in his previous life. Back then, to repair a damaged Daoist ritual implement, he had visited a Daoist Celestial Master to seek his advice.

That encounter had made him understand that differences between people truly existed.

According to that Celestial Master, the human body was composed of the brain, blood, flesh, bones, marrow, meridians, and channels.

The strength of those things determined the strength of a person's magnetic field, and the most immediate effect of that strength was a change in emotions.

When one's magnetic field was suppressed, one would involuntarily experience negative emotions such as anxiety, panic, tension, and fear.

Chu Zheng lowered his gaze, his fingertips trembling slightly of their own accord. He knew exactly why: the adrenaline in his body was surging wildly.

That Celestial Master from his previous life had lived to one hundred and eighteen. His mastery of Daoist learning had reached the realm of perfection, yet this man before him looked no older than twenty!

Moreover, the oppressive feeling emanating from that Celestial Master back then had been nowhere near as intense as what he felt now.

Without question, this man had to be from an Immortal Sect.

"Chu Zheng?"

Song Lingxue frowned slightly and glanced toward the hall in the distance, the crease between her brows deepening.

Song Yun, walking at the rear, changed expression slightly. He glanced at Song Lingxue, seeming to want to speak but stopping himself.

Seeing Chu Zheng, he wanted to rebuke him, yet found it difficult to open his mouth for a moment. No matter how highly regarded he was, he was still only a household servant. In such a setting, it was not his place to speak.

"Greetings, Eldest Young Lady."

Chu Zheng bowed, then stepped aside and cleared the way.

"Forget it."

Song Lingxue studied Chu Zheng for a moment, then sighed softly. The faint furrow between her brows gradually eased as she said blandly:

"Ling Qing was just speaking to me about you. Come inside and talk."

After saying that, she turned her head toward the man beside her and smiled apologetically. "The manor's discipline is lacking. Please forgive the offense, Supreme Immortal."

The man shook his head slightly without saying a word. He merely stood there in silence, yet his presence was terrifyingly strong.

Song Lingxue said no more and nodded for Xiao Cai to continue leading the way.

With his head lowered, Chu Zheng's churning thoughts gradually settled. Once they had passed him, he silently followed behind Song Yun.

In that instant when their eyes had met, Chu Zheng had seen no emotional ripple in the man's eyes. It was not quite as though he were looking at a dead object, but he certainly did not seem to be looking at one of his own kind.

Just as Chu Zheng had once thought, these people who cultivated immortality perhaps did not regard mortals as their own kind.

Inside the main hall, brilliant light shone everywhere, leaving not the slightest shadowed corner. A round table stood in the center, laden with all manner of delicacies whose fragrance was enticing.

A young woman sat in the seat of honor. She wore white robes embroidered with cloud patterns, her long hair casually falling at her side. Her brows and eyes were picturesque, her skin like snow. At a glance, she somewhat resembled Song Lingxue, though her figure was lighter and carried three parts more Immortal Qi.

A middle-aged man sat beside her. Dressed in a green robe and sporting a short beard, he was none other than Song Tonghai, head of the Song Family.

Only those two sat at the table. Song Tonghai had lost his wife early in life and had never remarried. He had only taken two concubines, whom he kept in the side courtyard. Thus, the vast Song Manor could not help but feel somewhat empty.

"Immortal Qin!"

At the sight of the group entering, Song Tonghai rose at once to greet them with a broad smile.

"For the past few years, I have followed your instructions and collected quite a few things left behind from ancient times. Well? Are you satisfied?"

The man nodded slightly. With a turn of his palm, a brocade box appeared in his hand. He then raised his hand and tossed it toward Song Tonghai.

"I took several items. This is your reward."

His tone was cold, even colder than the wind and snow outside.

At this sight, Chu Zheng's heart stirred. Was this retrieving objects from thin air, or...

"A mere lift of the hand—how can we speak of reward?"

Song Tonghai waved his hand. Just as he was about to refuse, the man cut him off with a single sentence.

"I never owe favors."

"Many thanks for the Supreme Immortal's gift."

The smile on Song Tonghai's face did not change. He accepted the brocade box smoothly and handed it to the maid behind him.

"You are Chu Zheng?"

The woman seated at the head of the table slowly raised her head and looked toward the corner, a trace of puzzlement in her eyes.