Qi Cultivation Starting from the Repair Panel

Behind the Earth-covering Great Saint Chao Qiankun was a little girl dressed in a moon white magical robe, her hair tied in a child's bun, looking about seven or eight years old. Her face was round, eyes clear and lively, curiously taking in her surroundings.

Beside the rotund Tu Fugui was his twelve-year-old son, Tu Jingchuan. The young boy's frame was beginning to stretch out, with a face not yet rid of childishness, striving to put on a mature and serious front. However, his tightly clenched fists and slightly trembling fingertips betrayed his inner tension.

The Great Saints, with solemn expressions, exchanged occasional glances, yet there was no hint of casual conversation, only cold scrutiny and veiled competition.

The air around them was almost stagnant, the clash of invisible auras causing the breathing of near low-level cultivators to become laborious.

Among the guests, murmurs surged like a tide, filled with shock and confusion.

"Miss Xue Qing is just a Seventh Realm Semi-Saint. No matter how high her talent, is it worth these Great Saints lowering themselves so much?" a martial cultivator whispered, his face full of disbelief.

"Bringing their own descendants here, just to seek entry, such eagerness and self-abasement seem excessive," someone nearby concurred, a strong note of perplexity in their voice.

"Hmph, what do you know."

A middle-aged cultivator snorted, eyes sharp with worldly insight:

"Are you aware that our Martial Pavilion's Cold Star Martial Ancestor is nearing the end of his lifespan?"

As soon as these words fell, an instant hush enveloped the surroundings, countless eyes focusing intently.

The middle-aged cultivator's expression stiffened, turning grave, as he spoke lowly: "With the Martial Ancestor's passing, the Heavenly Fate it carries has yet to be assigned. I've heard, after this grand competition, our Martial Pavilion will elect a new Son of Heaven to inherit the Heavenly Fate."

He gazed intently at the closed hall door: "With Miss Xue Qing's current comprehension and talent, stepping into the Martial Saint Realm before a hundred years old is a certainty. Even among the true Sons of Heaven, how many can step into the Eighth Order before a hundred?"

"With such heaven-defying talent, if she were to gain the support of the Heavenly Fate, her future would be limitless, soaring through the heavens, seeking the pinnacle Martial Ancestor position would not be an arduous task."

He glanced over those Great Saints and the children beside them, his voice full of envy and jealousy: "Now, being able to send one's bloodline descendant under Miss Xue Qing's tutelage to become a direct disciple, what does that mean? It implies that in the future, she might be the direct disciple of the Martial Ancestor! Such an overwhelming opportunity, how many Great Realm resources could it equate to?! Which one of these Great Saints isn't shrewd? They are wagering, gambling on Xue Qing becoming a Chengzu in the future."

This analysis struck like thunder in the hearts of many cultivators around, instantly clearing all confusion, like enlightenment from the divine.

Serving at the feet of an Ancestral Realm chance, countless Martial Emperors would fight fiercely for it, originally without even the qualification to catch a glance. Now, with a sliver of hope, naturally, they should tightly grasp it.

Sitting unnoticed among the crowd, Yun Tianji's expression slightly focused, seemingly comprehending something.

The opportunity to become Chengzu...

If this is so, Xue Qing might one day stand on the side of the Sun-eating Crier, becoming his great adversary.

Thinking of this, Yun Tianji lowered his gaze, suppressing the coldness in his eyes.

No matter who, anyone who hinders his pursuit of killing the Sun-eating Crier, he will sweep them aside.

And then there's Zheng Chu...

Buzz—

Amidst the surging undercurrents, the heavy hall doors slowly opened inward.

A solitary figure stepped out slowly.

It was Chu Zheng.

Attired in a fiery red ceremonial robe, with a calm face, under countless scrutinizing gazes, he walked steadily to the center of the square, slowly raising his hand, and a half-human tall cauldron crashed to the ground.

He retrieved a jade box, opened it to reveal three sticks of pure, jade-like incense, and True Yuan flowed from his fingertips, igniting the incense without fire, the wisps of blue smoke rising straight, unwavering.

The three sticks of pure incense were firmly inserted into the cauldron by Chu Zheng.

Afterward, he took out a fiery red marital agreement, his expression solemn, bowing deeply towards the three sticks of incense and the vast azure sky.

He straightened, the fiery red marital agreement in hand fell into the cauldron, igniting unbidden, engulfed entirely by golden flames in an instant.

The flames danced, and the marital paper turned to ashes in moments, condensing into a wisp of blue smoke, rising skyward, merging into the boundless deep blue heavenly dome, directly entering the azure sky.

Everyone's gaze was filled with perplexity, following the trail of smoke towards the unreachable sky.

Chu Zheng stood quietly in front of the cauldron, watching the direction in which the smoke disappeared, his emotions at peace.

As he expected.

The smoke dissipated into the boundless cosmic deep space, like a drop of water into the sea, without causing any ripples.

In the Primordial Era, without the presence of the Ancestral Dao, his petition was destined to sink like a stone in the sea, unanswered.

Time passed amidst countless held breaths, second by second.

You could hear a pin drop in the square.

Finally, Chu Zheng slowly withdrew his gaze, turning around, locking eyes with Xue Qing who had just stepped out of the hall.

His gaze was calm, the meaning clear without words.

The joints of Xue Qing's fingers, hidden within her sleeves, clenched slightly, the hundred birds embroidered on her bridal dress fluttering as if about to fly, the gold-thread dangling tassels beside her ear clinking softly in the wind.

Her gaze roamed over the spirit jade-paved square, swept over the few Great Saints and the full house of guests, over the embers in the cauldron that were not yet extinguished, finally meeting Chu Zheng's eyes.

Those pupils, at this moment, seemed like a deep pool, drowning all her hopes in a silent abyss.

Is it really so unwilling...

Her blood surged slightly, an iron taste rising in her throat. Unconsciously she rubbed her fingertips over the seam pattern embroidered on the wedding dress, a near-self-mocking cold smile pulling at her lips.