The world is in chaos.
Yet Ning Qi is alone in the Seeking Tao Institute, devoting himself to quiet cultivation, watching flowers bloom and wither, a delightful affair indeed. He practices diligently every day, making steady progress that is pleasing.
Up until now.
His Refining Spirit is nearing Perfection, stepping into the Celestial Human Realm is a natural progression.
Ning Qi estimates, it's a matter of one or two days.
"Unknowingly, I am already eleven years old."
Ning Qi stands with his hands behind his back, gazing at the starry sky, filled with endless reflections.
At eleven, he possesses a towering, unparalleled elegance, surpassing even that of fifteen or sixteen-year-old youths, which upon first glance, leaves people internally exclaiming over such an extraordinary Little Taoist. A few more glances, and they would be even more astonished by his transcendent poise, enough to captivate.
