He fell off a cliff but unexpectedly gained a cultivation inheritance.

The massive black iron sword carried Zhang Bufan, who was in stealth mode, at a steady speed three thousand meters in the air. To avoid revealing his presence, he deliberately kept his speed at around eight hundred kilometers per hour. This speed far surpassed any ground transportation in the mortal world, yet it wouldn't cause strong spatial fluctuations due to excessive speed. At the same time, it also allowed him to keep an eye on his surroundings and avoid any potential commercial airliners.

At an altitude of three thousand meters, precisely at the bottom of the stratosphere, the air is relatively stable. The clouds below spread out like fluffy cotton wool, and sunlight pierces through them, gilding their edges with a dazzling golden hue. Zhang Bufan stands on his flying sword, his clothes fluttering without wind. A cool breeze, carrying the slight chill of the high altitude, brushes against his cheeks, making him feel increasingly refreshed. He lowers his head slightly, looking down through gaps in the clouds. The fields, mountains, and rivers appear as miniature models, rushing past beneath his feet. Distances that would normally take hours by car to traverse are now but a fleeting moment.

This experience of soaring through the air is completely different from flying in an airplane. When you're on an airplane, you're confined inside the cabin, looking at the scenery outside through thick glass, and there's always a sense of alienation. But now, he stands firmly on his flying sword, with no obstructions around him. He can clearly feel the flow of the wind, the temperature of the sunlight, and even vaguely sense the trajectory of the thin spiritual energy in the air, as if he has merged with heaven and earth.

"My childhood dream of flying has actually come true." Zhang Bufan was filled with emotion. Everyone seems to have had the yearning to soar through the skies in their childhood; perhaps it's a memory etched into our genes. He recalled the records in the Xuanqing Daoist's inheritance: in the ancient world of Pangu, spiritual energy was so abundant that it was everywhere. Cultivators were everywhere, and ordinary cultivators could fly. Even the powerful beings in legends could ride on auspicious clouds and travel through the starry sky. But as times changed, the spiritual energy of heaven and earth gradually thinned, and the path of cultivation became increasingly difficult. Flying became the privilege of a very few, and the vast majority of mortals could only wander on the ground their entire lives, never even touching the edge of flight.

Thinking of this, Zhang Bufan felt even more grateful for his fortuitous encounter. If he hadn't stumbled into the Xuanqing Secret Realm after falling off the cliff and received his master's inheritance, he would probably have already turned into a pile of minced meat at the bottom of the cliff, let alone embark on the path of cultivation and experience the thrill of flying through the air. But this sense of relief was quickly replaced by a clear understanding. He knew very well that his current early Foundation Establishment stage was just the beginning of his cultivation journey. His master, Daoist Xuanqing's, dying wish—to bring his remains and inheritance back to the Xuanqing Immortal Sect in the Immortal Realm—was as distant as an insurmountable chasm.

"One must take things one step at a time. Let's set a small goal for ourselves first." Zhang Bufan's eyes gradually hardened as he silently made a plan in his mind: "First, break through to the Nascent Soul stage, and then strive towards the legendary Divine Transformation Realm. Only by reaching the Divine Transformation Realm can one have the ability to travel through the starry sky and have the opportunity to find the path to the Immortal Realm."

Having just set this goal, Zhang Bufan couldn't help but pause for a moment, then gave a wry smile. He spoke of it lightly, but he knew very well how difficult this "small goal" was. According to the information left by Xuanqing Daoist and what he learned from Yue Shouren, the spiritual energy in the Pangu World was extremely scarce, and cultivation resources were far inferior to those in ancient times. For a full thousand years, no new Nascent Soul stage cultivators had appeared. Not to mention the Divine Transformation stage, which surpassed the Nascent Soul stage—those were merely legends existing only in ancient texts.

But he quickly rallied. Just because others couldn't do it didn't mean he couldn't. He possessed unparalleled advantages: the Xuanqing Secret Realm left behind by his master, Xuanqing Daoist, contained inexhaustible immortal peaches, silver fish, and spiritual spring water—all spiritual objects imbued with pure spiritual energy, providing a continuous source of resources for his cultivation; the Xuanqing Daoist Technique he cultivated was a top-tier cultivation method in the immortal realm, allowing him to directly reach the immortal realm without needing to change techniques, far more profound than the mortal cultivation methods of the Pangu world; more importantly, he also possessed the boundless cultivation experience left by his master—the insights and breakthrough techniques from the Qi Refining stage to the immortal realm were sealed within his soul, ready to be unlocked and learned at any time once he reached the required level, saving him countless detours.

"As long as I continue to cultivate diligently, and with these advantages, reaching the Nascent Soul Realm is not impossible," Zhang Bufan thought to himself. "Moreover, to fulfill my master's entrustment, entering the starry sky is an essential path. Relying solely on the spiritual energy and resources of the Pangu World to transcend tribulation and ascend is simply a pipe dream. Only by entering the starry sky can I find more abundant spiritual energy and richer resources, and only then will I have a real chance to embark on the path back to the Immortal Realm."

With a clear direction in mind, Zhang Bufan's state of mind became increasingly calm. He no longer paid attention to the scenery beneath his feet, but instead relaxed his body and mind, enjoying the exhilaration of flying through the air while circulating the "Mysterious Purity Dao Inquiry Technique," slowly absorbing the thin spiritual energy in the air. Although this spiritual energy was negligible for someone in the early stages of Foundation Establishment, it could still slightly nourish his meridians if accumulated little by little.

Time passed quietly during the smooth flight, and two hours went by in the blink of an eye. Zhang Bufan soon saw the outline of a massive city below. Skyscrapers stood tall, and cars and people moved about like ants. The air was filled with the rich aroma of cooking, a stark contrast to the cultivation world he had been in and his rural hometown.

"We've arrived in Pengcheng." Zhang Bufan knew this in his heart. He controlled the Xuan Tie giant sword to slowly descend, while paying even closer attention to his surroundings. As an international metropolis, Pengcheng had a dense network of air routes, so he had to be extra careful to avoid encountering commercial airliners. He gradually lowered his altitude from 3,000 meters to 1,500 meters, slowing down slightly, and flew along the edge of the city towards the neighborhood where he used to live.

His former home was located in a slightly out-of-the-way area of ​​Shenzhen, in a mid-range residential complex called "Yiju Garden." The complex wasn't very large, consisting of a dozen or so high-rise buildings, with complete surrounding facilities and a relatively quiet environment. When he married Ye Qingxue, he used all his savings to buy a three-bedroom apartment there, hoping to live a peaceful life. However, they eventually ended up divorcing.

Recalling the past, Zhang Bufan felt a complex mix of emotions. There was nostalgia for their sweet memories, regret for the divorce, and guilt towards Ye Qingxue. If he had known earlier that Ye Qingxue was from a family of cultivators, and if he had known the real reason she didn't want children, perhaps their fate would have been different. However, thinking about these things now was pointless. He had come primarily to help Ye Qingxue resolve her troubles; as for their relationship, he could only let nature take its course.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, yet the flying sword beneath his feet never ceased its flight. A few minutes later, Zhang Bufan arrived above the Yiju Garden residential complex. He scanned the area with his divine sense, quickly locking onto Building 9—the building where his former home was located. He maneuvered his flying sword slowly towards Building 9, circling it once above the rooftop. After carefully probing the area with his divine sense and confirming that the rooftop was empty, he then slowly lowered the flying sword to its ground.

The moment his feet touched the ground firmly, Zhang Bufan's mind stirred, and the Xuan Iron Greatsword transformed into a streak of light, disappearing into his storage ring. At the same time, he deactivated his invisibility, his figure reappearing. He patted his clothes, tidied his slightly disheveled hair, took a deep breath, and headed towards the stairwell on the rooftop.

The stairwell was deserted, only the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty space. Zhang Bufan descended the stairs step by step, his emotions growing more complex with each step. Every corner here held memories of him and Ye Qingxue; now, revisiting this place, everything had changed, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness.

He quickly reached the 20th floor. Room 2003, the familiar room number, caught his eye, causing him to pause instinctively. He stood at the door, calming his emotions, and took out his keys from his pocket.

He inserted the key into the lock and turned it gently. With a soft "click," the lock opened. Zhang Bufan pushed open the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him.

The living room was dimly lit, with the curtains drawn tightly, allowing only a sliver of light to filter through. A faint, familiar fragrance filled the air—Ye Qingxue's favorite perfume, a scent that had remained unchanged for years. Zhang Bufan's gaze unconsciously fell upon the sofa in the center of the living room, where a white figure sat gracefully, like a fairy sculpted from ice and snow.

Ye Qingxue was still wearing the white dress she wore during the video call, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, her skin as white as jade, and her features exquisitely beautiful. Time seemed to have been exceptionally kind to her; more than three years had not left any trace on her face, but instead had made her temperament even more aloof and refined, adding a touch of otherworldly elegance. Zhang Bufan's divine sense subconsciously swept over her body, clearly sensing the aura of the eleventh level of Qi Refining emanating from her, indicating that she was not far from reaching the Foundation Establishment stage.

However, at this moment, Ye Qingxue's face did not have its usual coldness, but rather a faint trace of sorrow. Her clear eyes were filled with mist, and she was staring at him without blinking. Her eyes were filled with complex emotions such as worry, concern, and joy, as if she had a thousand words to say, but did not know where to begin.

Seeing Ye Qingxue like this, Zhang Bufan's heart was deeply touched. The emotions buried deep within him for over three years, the longing and guilt he had deliberately suppressed, burst forth like a flood. He quickly walked to Ye Qingxue and stopped.

Ye Qingxue slowly stood up, her body trembling slightly. Looking at Zhang Bufan's face so close to hers, her eyes welled with tears. The Zhang Bufan before her was no longer the hunched, overweight, and slightly weathered middle-aged man of a year or so ago. He had grown into a tall, handsome man with fair skin, looking only in his early twenties—even more handsome than when they first fell in love. But no matter how his appearance changed, the familiarity in his eyes remained unchanged.

For over a year, she had tirelessly searched for Zhang Bufan, utilizing considerable resources from her family. Countless nights she tossed and turned, unable to sleep, fearing for his safety; countless times she dreamt of him falling off a cliff, waking in tears. Only yesterday, seeing his social media account online and hearing his familiar voice, did her heart, which had been hanging in suspense for over a year, finally find peace. But upon finally seeing him in person, all the emotions she had suppressed erupted completely at that moment.

Ye Qingxue reached out her slightly trembling hand, wanting to stroke Zhang Bufan's face, but hesitated. Her fingertips paused in mid-air for a moment before slowly falling and gently touching his cheek. The warm touch was so real that she couldn't help but feel her eyes redden. Tears finally slid down her cheeks and dripped onto the back of her hand, bringing a cool sensation.

"Bufan...you're really back..." Ye Qingxue's voice was choked with emotion, every word filled with grievance and longing.

Feeling the warmth of her touch and hearing the sob in her voice, Zhang Bufan could no longer contain his emotions. He grabbed Ye Qingxue's hand and held her tightly in his arms, as if trying to meld her into his very bones. The familiar fragrance filled his nostrils, intensifying his longing. He could clearly feel the trembling of the person in his arms, could hear her suppressed sobs, and his guilt and heartache grew stronger.

"Qingxue, I'm sorry for making you worry." Zhang Bufan's voice was also a little hoarse. He gently patted Ye Qingxue's back, trying to soothe her emotions. "I'm back. I'm fine. I'll never make you worry again."

He held Ye Qingxue tightly, and feeling his warm embrace and strong heartbeat, all her strength crumbled instantly. She could no longer hold back, buried her head in his shoulder, and burst into tears, as if she wanted to release all the worries, fears, and grievances of the past year through her tears.

Zhang Bufan didn't speak, but simply held her quietly, letting her cry on his shoulder. He understood her feelings; over the past year, the pressure and pain she had endured were no less than that of her own parents. He gently stroked her long hair, feeling her trembling body, and silently vowed to protect her well from now on, never letting her suffer any more injustice.

After an unknown amount of time, Ye Qingxue's sobs gradually subsided, with only occasional sobs remaining. She looked up at Zhang Bufan, her eyes brimming with tears, her cheeks flushed red from crying, like peach blossoms after the rain, exceptionally beautiful. Looking at her reddened eyes and wet eyelashes, Zhang Bufan's heart softened, and he lowered his head to kiss her.

This kiss carried longing, guilt, and the preciousness of something lost and then regained. Ye Qingxue was slightly taken aback, then closed her eyes and responded to him. The atmosphere in the living room grew increasingly intimate; all barriers and distance vanished in that moment, leaving only two hearts tightly entwined.