Her Nature Draws Near to Clarity

One day, after Zhou Chengyuan and his companion finished their meditation and were resting, Zhou Ping called Zhou Qianling aside.

"Qianling, have you noticed anything unusual while cultivating this technique?" Zhou Ping asked, his voice laced with worry.

This had nothing to do with the possible connection between Zhou Qianling and the demon race; it was simply the genuine concern of an elder for his flesh and blood.

The little girl lowered her head, her tiny hands clasped together as she remained silent.

Ever since she had switched to this new cultivation manual, Zhou Qianling had felt exceptionally uncomfortable. It was as if she were trapped in the scorching heat of midsummer, plagued by a relentless, stifling irritability. Furthermore, the deeper her cultivation progressed, the more intense this sensation became.

Had it been any other child, they would have been crying and throwing tantrums all day long. Yet, even though the agitation was nearly unbearable, she had bottled it up inside, never uttering a word to anyone.

She endured it only because her older brother had told her that practicing this technique would make her powerful. And the stronger she became, the better her mother's life would be.

Seeing her silence, Zhou Ping's heart grew heavier. He crouched down before Zhou Qianling, gently grasping her small arms, and spoke softly. "Qianling, if you feel unwell anywhere, you must tell your granduncle. Do not keep it hidden in your heart."

Zhou Qianling was, after all, only a four-year-old child. Hearing these tender words, her little face instantly crumpled, and tears welled up before streaming down her cheeks.

"Granduncle, Ling'er feels so uncomfortable."

Zhou Ping hurriedly pulled Zhou Qianling into his arms, gently patting her back.

"Don't cry, don't cry. Tell granduncle, where does it feel bad?"

Though Zhou Qianling continued to sob, her emotions steadied somewhat under his comfort. She began to describe the changes her body had undergone during this period.

Her explanation was disjointed and incoherent, and it took Zhou Ping a long time of patient listening to finally grasp her meaning.

"Alas, granduncle has wronged you." Zhou Ping stroked Zhou Qianling's head, his heart aching with self-reproach.

"Qianling, from now on, we will return to your previous cultivation method. We won't practice this one anymore, alright?"

Zhou Qianling sniffled, but she nodded her head repeatedly. "Alright."

As Zhou Qianling walked away, Zhou Ping watched her retreating figure, filled with deep regret.

This cycle of dispersing her Qi and rebuilding her foundation meant that nearly a year of Zhou Qianling's hard work had gone completely to waste. To make matters worse, she had suffered so much needless torment. As her granduncle, it pained him deeply.

However, this ordeal had also revealed a crucial clue. The demon bloodline latent within Zhou Qianling likely originated from a species of Demon Beast that was naturally close to clear water and mountain streams. That was precisely why her body so violently rejected the heavy, mineral-like earthen Qi generated by the Jade Rock Spirit Origin Art.

Though their clan's original Guide Qi technique was crude and low-grade, its properties were subtle and reminiscent of a pristine mountain current. Because its nature harmonized with her innate constitution, she had been able to achieve a cultivation speed rivaling someone with a three-inch aptitude, despite only possessing an aptitude of two inches and four.

"Alas," Zhou Ping sighed heavily, then turned and walked deeper into the inner courtyard.

When Zhou Qianling returned to the main courtyard, Zhou Chengyuan, who had been playing nearby, noticed her red, puffy eyes and immediately rushed to her side.

"Little Sister, why are you crying?"

"Did Grandfather scold you? I'll go talk to him! How could he be so mean to you!"

With a huff, Zhou Chengyuan turned around, preparing to march into the inner chambers in a huff, but Zhou Qianling quickly caught his sleeve.

"Granduncle did not scold me."

"Then why are you crying?" Zhou Chengyuan tilted his head in confusion. He wiped away Zhou Qianling's tears with his sleeve, then reached into his pocket and fished out a piece of candy.

"Here, have some candy. Once you eat it, the sadness will go away."

As he spoke, he mimicked the mannerisms of an adult, continuously patting Zhou Qianling on the head. However, being a child, he did not know how to control his strength, and within a few strokes, he had completely messed up her hair.

Even so, Zhou Qianling's mood brightened considerably. Chewing on the sweet treat, she waved her hand at him. "Goodbye, Brother Chengyuan."

Zhou Chengyuan watched her disappear around the corner of the pavilion before finally turning back toward the study, still wearing a pout.

Upon entering the room, he saw Zhou Ping standing beside Zhou Bai. The boy immediately let out a loud wail and rushed forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Zhou Ping's thigh.

"Grandfather, why did you have to be so mean to Sister Qianling?"

Zhou Ping was momentarily stunned, then broke into a laugh. "When was I ever mean to her? Her cultivation had simply hit a small snag, so Grandfather was merely guiding her to correct it."

"What kind of snag?" Zhou Chengyuan instantly stopped his mock crying, looking up at Zhou Ping with wide, curious eyes.

"Once you become as powerful as Grandfather, I will tell you."

"Ahhh!"

Seeing that Zhou Ping refused to satisfy his curiosity, Zhou Chengyuan began to whine and cause a fuss. In response, Zhou Ping gave him a firm tap on the forehead, causing the boy to instantly quiet down.

Sitting at the desk, Zhou Bai watched Zhou Chengyuan, a trace of envy and melancholy flitting through his eyes.

As the years passed, he was no longer the ignorant child of his youth. He understood clearly now that he was merely a mortal. In this lifetime, he would never have the power to Guide Qi or Summon Wind. The seed of hope that had once been planted in his heart had withered and died before it could even fully sprout.

Both of his elder brothers were revered cultivators, yet he alone was ordinary.

Perhaps, this was simply his fate.

Dejected, Zhou Bai lost focus, and the brush in his hand slipped, leaving a massive ink blot on the paper beneath him.

"Little Uncle, you ruined the paper!" Zhou Chengyuan exclaimed, his shout snapping Zhou Bai out of his daze.

Zhou Bai hurriedly crumpled the spoiled paper into a ball and threw it aside, but before he could reach for a new sheet, his hands were gently caught.

"Bai'er, the art of calligraphy requires a calm mind and a focused spirit. If your heart is restless and troubled, your hand will inevitably commit countless errors."

Zhou Ping spoke softly, guiding Zhou Bai's hand with his own to write out the names of the Zhou family members one by one.

Of all his children, Zhou Ping's affection for Zhou Bai was the most profound and complicated.

Zhou Bai was his youngest son, and the only child whose innate aptitude had never been elevated.

Although it had been due to a lack of Ding Fire at the time, Zhou Ping could not help but carry a sense of guilt toward him. Over the years, he had showered the boy with immense affection, attempting to compensate for this shortcoming in any way he could.

He would have preferred to keep Zhou Bai by his side forever, allowing him to live out his days as a carefree, wealthy young master. Yet, he also understood that blind indulgence would only ruin the boy's future. It was better to give him responsibilities to shoulder, but Zhou Ping did not dare assign him tasks that were too grueling or exhausting. He truly held the boy in his hands like a fragile treasure, constantly worried about breaking him.

Since Zhou Chang'an had assumed the post of county magistrate, the compilation of the clan genealogy had been temporarily suspended. Zhou Ping had thus assigned Zhou Bai to oversee the recording of the family lineage and the local township chronicles. This was intended to help Zhou Bai mature and eventually stand on his own, without overwhelming him with burdens.

Zhou Ping asked gently, "How is the compilation of the township chronicles progressing?"

"Zhou Liang has already gathered the old records from several neighboring villages, including some accounts from settlements that have long since been destroyed," Zhou Bai answered dutifully.

Zhou Ping nodded. He was well aware of who Zhou Liang was-he was Zhou Shi's son, close in age to Zhou Bai. He had served as Zhou Bai's childhood companion and study attendant, working tirelessly and demonstrating absolute loyalty.

Once the young man fully matured, he could safely be dispatched to manage local affairs on the clan's behalf.

Meanwhile, Zhou Chengyuan had crouched down on the floor, smoothing out the crumpled ball of paper and pointing at it with his small finger.

"Look, my name is written right here! And there are my younger brother's and sister's names too!"

Directly above Zhou Chengyuan's name were the characters for Zhou Minghu and his wife, Lady Wang.

The innocent babble of the child brought smiles to both adults. However, Zhou Ping's expression suddenly froze slightly.

"Lady Zhang is pregnant?"

Since elevating Zhou Chengyuan's aptitude several years ago, Zhou Ping had abstained from using his Ding Fire to enhance any other descendants. Because of his restraint, the resource had steadily accumulated to twenty-eight points.

He lived in constant fear that if too many extraordinarily talented children appeared in the family at once, it would provoke the suspicion of outside forces.

In the grandchildren's generation, there were already two boys and two girls. But because they were all sired by Zhou Minghu, Zhou Ping had only dared to elevate Zhou Chengyuan alone. He was simply too cautious. Now that Zhou Xuanya's wife, Lady Zhang, was expecting, it sparked a new train of thought in his mind.

Lady Zhang was different from Zhou Minghu's numerous concubines. She was the biological granddaughter of Zhang Ting, meaning her lineage was within three generations of a proper cultivator. Combined with Zhou Xuanya's status as a cultivator, it would not appear entirely abnormal if the two produced an offspring blessed with a spiritual root.

With this thought in mind, Zhou Ping willed his consciousness to open the System panel. Upon inspecting the child in the womb, he discovered it was indeed a mortal, causing him to let out a soft sigh.

Without further hesitation, he expended ten points of Ding Fire to elevate the unborn child. In an instant, the faint spiritual light within the womb surged, reaching an aptitude of one inch and eight.

Zhou Ping silently resolved that he would refrain from using the Ding Fire again for the next few years. Instead, he would have to strictly urge his sons to take more concubines and expand the family line. In the past, his primary issue had been a shortage of Ding Fire; now, ironically, his greatest problem was a lack of descendants to bestow it upon.

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