CHAPTER 21 — Qi That Shouldn't Exist
The moment she left…
The pavilion felt colder.
Not because of air.
Because of absence.
Zheng Wen Te stood alone, her name echoing in his mind.
Lian.
Not a title.
Not "Immortal."
A name like a wound.
He sat down slowly.
Cross-legged.
Hands trembling.
One month.
Foundation Realm.
Or die.
He had no manuals.
No elder guidance.
No sect resources.
Only Shangdi's orb…
And the weight of a debt he could not remember.
Zheng closed his eyes.
Inhale.
Exhale.
He searched inward, trying to find the ember again.
At first, nothing.
Then—
Warmth.
A thread of Qi stirred in his chest.
Zheng focused.
He guided it like the outer disciples had taught.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The Qi moved…
And the pavilion reacted.
The air thickened.
The walls pulsed faintly.
Zheng frowned.
"What…?"
This wasn't normal.
In cultivation stories, Qi came from nature.
From mountains.
From rivers.
From the heavens.
But here—
The Qi felt like it came from…
Him.
From his heart.
From sorrow.
From regret.
The orb in his palm grew warmer.
A golden ripple spread outward.
And suddenly—
The pavilion filled with mist.
Not spiritual mist.
Memory mist.
Zheng's breath caught.
In the fog, shapes appeared.
A woman's silhouette.
A voice crying.
A hand reaching.
Zheng jolted back.
"No—!"
The mist twisted.
The pavilion floor became blood-stained stone.
The sky above turned crimson.
His heart hammered.
He wasn't meditating anymore.
He was reliving.
The woman stepped forward.
Her face blurred.
But her emotion was sharp enough to cut.
Betrayal.
Grief.
Love.
And hatred.
Zheng whispered desperately:
"Who are you…?"
The orb pulsed violently.
A word formed in his mind, half-remembered.
Dao侣…
Dao companion.
His chest tightened.
Then—
The mist shattered.
Zheng collapsed forward, coughing.
His entire body burned.
Not with Qi.
With emotion.
With unresolved heart-fire.
Outside the pavilion…
A soft voice spoke.
Lian.
"You feel it."
Zheng looked up, shaking.
"This Qi… it's wrong."
Lian stepped into view.
Her eyes were unreadable.
"This pavilion does not cultivate the body."
"It cultivates the heart."
Zheng's voice cracked.
"That's impossible."
Lian crouched beside him.
Cold fingers lifted his chin.
"Nothing is impossible when karma is the root."
Zheng trembled.
"So every time I cultivate…"
"…I remember?"
Lian's gaze sharpened.
"And every time you remember…"
Her voice became a whisper.
"…You suffer."
Zheng swallowed hard.
Fear rose like bile.
Then why…
Why did part of him want to continue?
Lian stood.
"The third rule."
"You cannot become immortal here…"
"…Without facing what you buried."