If you die, I will be able to inherit your cultivation.

Zhou Ming returned to the Wuying Hall, dismissed the attendants, and sat alone behind the desk.

Leaning back in his chair, Zhou Ming suddenly remembered something.

He was already a master of the Nascent Soul stage, and sitting in his dantian was a small figure that looked exactly like him, surrounded by a purple-gold halo.

Despite being a top expert in the Nascent Soul stage, he didn't have any decent offensive or defensive techniques. What's even more absurd is that he couldn't even fly.

In my past life, I read those cultivation novels on Tomato. When cultivators reached the Foundation Establishment stage, they could fly on swords. When they reached the Golden Core stage, they could fly through the air with their own magic power. When they reached the Nascent Soul stage, they could fly and escape into the earth at will.

But what about him?

Forget flying on a sword, he doesn't even know how to lift his body three feet off the ground.

I was too busy recently, taking over Yuyang County, preparing for the coronation ceremony, and engaging in a battle of wits with Emperor Yongchang.

One thing after another happened, leaving no time to catch my breath, so I had no time to think about these things.

Now that the affairs inside and outside the palace have temporarily come to an end, and all the necessary arrangements have been made, it's a rare moment of leisure, so I'll take this opportunity to do some research.

Zhou Ming closed his eyes and focused his mind on his dantian.

The purplish-gold figure in the dantian was sitting cross-legged in the void, its eyes slightly closed, and a halo of light flowing around it.

He connected his consciousness with the nascent soul and tried to use his thoughts to make the nascent soul stand up.

The nascent soul obediently opened its eyes, changed from sitting cross-legged to standing upright, and stood steadily in the void above its dantian. Its small face had a serious expression, looking quite like a celestial being.

Zhou Ming took a deep breath and began to recall the descriptions of flight in the cultivation novels he had read in his previous life.

By channeling magical power into one's feet and using one's mind to lift oneself up, one can unite one's body with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, thus breaking free from the earth's constraints.

He held his breath, mobilized the magical power in his dantian, and slowly poured it into the meridians of his legs.

A warm force rose from the dantian, flowed down the meridians, and poured into the legs, causing the legs to swell slightly, as if something inside was pushing outwards.

Calming his mind, Zhou Ming began to use his thoughts to pull himself upwards, imagining himself as a bubble blown by the wind, gently leaving the chair and rising into the air.

Then I looked down and saw that I was still sitting firmly on the chair, my toes still firmly on the ground.

Zhou Ming tried again, gathering all his strength and pouring all his magic power into the Yongquan acupoint on the soles of his feet. Both soles of his feet felt slightly numb, but he remained completely still.

Zhou Ming didn't believe in superstitions and tried to make a sword gesture with his fingers.

Isn't that how it's always written in novels?

With a flick of his wrist, a beam of sword light shot out, and he flew on his sword.

He performed several different sword techniques.

The index and middle fingers are held together, and the five fingers are slightly bent with the palm facing upwards.

My fingers were twisted into a pretzel shape, but I didn't see any sword light fly out.

After fiddling around for almost half an hour, he worked up a light sweat, but he didn't even get off the chair.

Zhou Ming leaned back in his chair, looking up at the tall caisson ceiling of the Wuying Hall.

He felt like a sports car with its engine ignited and roaring but unable to find the clutch, feeling incredibly frustrated.

Zhou Ming went through his thoughts again.

Fiction is fiction, and reality is reality.

The magical power within him is real, and his nascent soul is also real.

The problem wasn't whether he had enough power, but that he didn't know how to use that power to fight against gravity.

idea?

The essence of all magic is intention.

He previously concealed his cultivation level using his willpower, and he also relied on his willpower to draw out his magical power from his dantian. Therefore, flying should also be driven by his willpower.

However, the instruction to "lift yourself up with your mind" was too vague, and the Nascent Soul could not understand it, or rather, his own deep consciousness did not know how to execute this vague instruction.

Zhou Ming organized his thoughts and decided to try a different approach.

He no longer simply visualized the result of "flying," but began to construct the complete flight process in his mind.

First, pour the magic power into the meridians of the whole body in the most even way, allowing the magic power to penetrate into every muscle and every bone, and travel along the meridians, making the body lighter than a feather.

He repeatedly told the Nascent Soul with his mind: I am lighter than air, and the earth no longer restricts the small space beneath my feet.

This time, he felt a subtle change in his body.

It wasn't that he became lighter, but rather that he experienced a strange feeling of suspension, as if he were soaking in an invisible pool of warm water, with the surrounding air becoming viscous and elastic, supporting every inch of his skin.

Zhou Ming continued to use his mind to pull upwards, holding his breath.

The sensation of the chair beneath my bottom gradually lessened, and the pressure between my back and the chair back slowly disappeared.

He looked down and saw that his feet had left the ground.

It wasn't jumping up, it wasn't propping itself up, it was truly suspended, with its feet at least three inches off the gold brick ground.

Zhou Ming's breath hitched, his heart pounded, and in that moment of distraction, his body swayed and he almost fell back onto the chair.

He quickly regained his composure and used his mind to support his body again.

This time, things stabilized.

Then he tried to lift his mind upwards, and his body slowly rose, with the chair, desk, official documents, and inkstone becoming smaller and smaller under his feet.

His head was getting closer and closer to the caisson ceiling of the Wuying Hall, and the exquisite gold-painted decorations were within reach. He could even see a very thin layer of ash on the paintings.

Zhou Ming quickly pulled his mind sideways, and his whole body swayed and floated forward. When he passed the vermilion pillar, his shoulder almost bumped into it.

Zhou Ming swayed to the side in a flustered manner, spinning in the air. The hem of his robe brushed against the curtain hanging on the pillar, causing it to sway wildly.

Quickly steady yourself, readjust your focus, and slowly float to the most spacious center of the Wuying Hall.

Zhou Ming hovered in mid-air, looking down at the ground two or three zhang below him. He stretched out his hand, watching his fingers open and then clench in the air.

Then he laughed.

No longer lingering in the main hall, he extended his thoughts outwards, and his entire body followed the direction of his thoughts, passing through the open hall door and gliding out silently like a gust of wind.

As Zhou Ming slid out of the hall, he rose higher and higher. The gray-tiled roof of the Wuying Hall gradually shrank beneath his feet, and the entire palace complex unfolded in the morning light.

The golden glazed tiles of the Hall of Supreme Harmony shimmered in the sunlight, while the withered branches of the old locust tree in the Imperial Garden behind the Hall of Heavenly Origin swayed gently in the wind.

The two rows of imperial guards at the Yongning Gate stood ramrod straight, none of them noticing that a person was floating above their heads, hundreds of feet in the sky.

No longer content with hovering above the palace, Zhou Ming extended his thoughts northward, transforming himself into an almost invisible streak of light as he flew towards the sky above Yuyang County.

The divine sense within a radius of forty kilometers played a wonderful role during flight.

Zhou Ming could clearly sense the direction of the airflow, the speed of the wind, the undulations of the terrain below, and could even "see" a flock of migratory birds in the air in advance, deftly circling around them before colliding with them.

He hovered over Yuyang County, looking down at the city he had known intimately for over half a year.

The gray-blue city wall, viewed from directly above, resembles a square chessboard, densely packed with gray-tiled roofs and crisscrossing bluestone streets.

The wind whistled past my ears, my robes billowed, the sky was high and the land was vast, and the city, mountains and rivers beneath my feet unfolded before my eyes from an angle that I had only ever seen in my dreams before.

Zhou Ming sped up and rushed into the sky, white clouds swept past him, and cool, damp mist hit his face.

It pierced through the clouds and stopped on an endless expanse of pure white.

Above us was a clear, almost transparent azure sky, and below us was a sea of ​​clouds churning like cotton wool, with occasional glimpses of dark blue mountain ridges and silvery rivers through the gaps in the clouds.

The sun shone down on him without any obstruction, making him feel warm and comfortable.

Zhou Ming stood above the sea of ​​clouds, opened his arms, closed his eyes, felt the extremely subtle touch of the wind slipping through his fingertips, and then exhaled a long breath.

Having traveled through time, I have lived cautiously ever since.

At this moment, the world is vast, no one can control him, no one can see him, he can fly wherever he wants, and fly as high as he wants.

He opened his eyes, looked down at the faintly visible blue mountain range at the end of the sea of ​​clouds, and grinned, revealing an extremely bright smile.

Cultivating immortality is fucking this awesome.