A week after clearing the Pure Yang Immortal Path instance, the year's end finally arrived.
Another Spring Festival. In the blink of an eye, several years had passed. Every year was much the same, yet every year was different.
The sun shone brightly. The entire residence was decked out in red and festive decorations, with people constantly coming and going in a bustling scene. One glance from outside gave the impression of thriving prosperity.
Yet only the front courtyard was lively. Though the rear courtyard was separated from it by merely a single wall, it seemed to divide two different worlds.
In the courtyard, Zhao Cheng was dressed very lightly. To him, clothing was more a matter of habit than a means of shielding himself from the cold.
At that moment, he sat beneath the eaves, lazily basking in the sun with his eyes half-closed, as though his mind had wandered beyond the skies. The entire courtyard seemed steeped in the same languid air.
In simulated worlds, Zhao Cheng fought for every second, but in reality, he was lazy most of the time.
Indeed, with his current spirit, even if he remained constantly tense and in peak efficiency for hundreds or thousands of years, he would suffer no mental problems. Yet Zhao Cheng still retained the habit of resting.
Or rather, shifting from tension to relaxation was itself a form of cultivation and training, much like how one trained muscles.
Motion and stillness, just like yin and yang in the taiji, gave rise to endless vitality.
The front was bustling while the back was quiet, seemingly neglected. In truth, countless people wished to visit Zhao Cheng, but they only dared to think about it.
The guests from every side were also all somehow related by marriage or blood. When one