Walking out of the inner courtyard, Zhou Ming was practically jogging the entire way.

He passed through the verandas, turned past the festoon gate, and arrived at the outer courtyard.

Finding a secluded pavilion in a quiet corner where people rarely came, he plopped down onto the steps.

Several clumps of bamboo grew around the pavilion, completely blocking the view from the outside, which was perfect for him to quietly observe the changes within his body.

Within his Dantian, the twelfth vortex of Qi had completely condensed.

The twelve Qi vortices arranged themselves in a ring within his Dantian, each spinning at high speed, pulling on one another yet without interference, resembling a miniature nebula.

Before Zhou Ming could adapt to the strange sensation of these twelve Qi vortices coexisting,

the boundaries between them suddenly began to blur.

The gaps between the vortices were filled by the continuously surging spiritual power, and the twelve Qi vortices slowly moved toward the exact center of his Dantian, touching, overlapping, and fusing with one another.

Zhou Ming held his breath. After all twelve Qi vortices had stacked together, a Dao Platform condensed at the very center of his Dantian.

The Dao Platform began to rise inch by inch, and with every inch it grew, his Dantian was stretched outward a bit more.

Every meridian in Zhou Ming's body was repeatedly tempered during that inch-by-inch growth.

It felt as though a thick coating was being brushed onto the inner walls of his Meridians layer by layer. The sensation of fullness was not a simple addition, but rather stacked upward level by level.

One inch, two inches, three inches... The Dao Platform slowly grew within his Dantian, with each rise accompanied by the pouring in of a majestic spiritual power that threatened to tear his Meridians apart.

Foundation Establishment.

Under circumstances where he was completely unprepared, he was forcefully pushed into the Foundation Establishment stage by the broken Causal Chain.

The Dao Platform was still growing.

Four inches, five inches, six inches... It kept rising until it reached nine point nine inches, where it stopped.

Covered in sweat, Zhou Ming stared at it, waiting for a moment. Seeing it remain completely still, he thought this was the end of it.

However, after a pause that lasted only a few breaths, the Dao Platform suddenly shot upward again.

It broke straight through the limit of nine point nine inches, rising all the way to twelve inches before finally coming to a halt.

The moment the Dao Platform was formed, the first thing to undergo a change was not his body, but his brain.

A wave of extremely cool energy rushed in from the back of his head, like drinking a cup of well water beaded with ice in one gulp at noon during the dog days of summer.

That crisp coolness penetrated his entire brain from top to bottom.

The sensory world, which had been hazy, felt as though a veil had been suddenly torn away, and everything around him instantly became incredibly clear.

He could hear the extremely faint rustling sound made by the bamboo leaves rubbing against each other.

He could discern the subtle variations of the wind passing through the gaps between the bamboo stalks, and he could hear the faint popping of bubbles beneath the surface of the pond.

Then, he felt as if "eyes had opened" on the top and back of his head as well.

It wasn't that he had actually grown eyes, but rather a capacity for perception that was more precise and three-dimensional than sight.

Within a ten-meter radius around him, every single detail was revealed.

An ant in the crack of the steps was carrying a grass seed found from who-knows-where, crawling toward its nest; the ant's antennae swayed left and right, and the force of its every step on the stone edge was transmitted to his brain as if magnified tenfold.

He could even feel the extremely faint wriggling of the ant's internal organs within its thorax, a discovery that gave him goosebumps.

Yet that perception itself carried an indescribable allure.

External projection of Divine Sense.

Zhou Ming subconsciously thought of this term; his reading of Xianxia novels in his previous life had not been in vain.

Immediately afterward, Zhou Ming's body also began to undergo changes.

Every single pore on his skin felt as though it was being scrubbed from the inside out, a sensation unlike taking a bath.

It felt more like his entire body was being dismantled, having all the Impurities scraped out from the gaps between his muscle fibers and internal organs, and then reassembled.

Right after, a layer of black substance seeped out from the surface of his skin, greasy and carrying a pungent, foul stench.

Those were the Impurities forced out from his Meridians and bone marrow by his spiritual power.

This stench was worse than an open sewer. Zhou Ming looked down at the layer of black grime on his arms and almost gagged on the spot.

Before Zhou Ming could observe further, his stomach began to churn violently.

That churning was not the ordinary pain of an upset stomach; instead, it felt as though his intestines were being gripped by an invisible hand, twisted repeatedly several times, and then suddenly released. The downward pressure was swift and fierce, bearing down on his bowels like an overwhelming wave.

He felt that if he didn't run now, he would end up having an accident right here in this pavilion.

Not daring to delay, Zhou Ming dashed toward the nearest latrine like a gust of wind.

His reaction speed was astonishingly fast, taking only a few breaths of time from standing up to rushing to the door of the latrine.

If Dongmei had been present, she would probably have been deeply surprised by this sudden burst of explosive power.

He flung the door of the latrine open, followed immediately by a series of crackling, earth-shattering noises.

This was probably the longest, smelliest, and most satisfying bowel movement he had ever had in his two lifetimes.

By the time he came out of the latrine, his entire body felt so light and airy, as if he had shed ten pounds of padded winter coats.

Just as he stepped out of the latrine, he ran straight into two Third-class servants.

The two were probably heading to the latrine together, but when they got within three paces of Zhou Ming, they both froze in unison.

The servant on the left was the first to change expression.

His eyes suddenly widened, his nostrils flared violently twice, and his entire face contorted from a normal skin tone into an indescribable expression at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The servant on the right had an even more exaggerated reaction; he forcefully forced the air he had already inhaled back out of his nostrils.

Turning his head away in an extremely unnatural posture, he pretended to have a profound academic interest in the moss growing in the corner of the wall.

Holding their noses, the two of them gave Zhou Ming an extremely complex and strange look, then lowered their heads in unison, brushing past him as they walked into the latrine.

Just as Zhou Ming was about to say something to smooth things over, he heard sharp gasps coming from inside the latrine:

"...My god!"

"This smell... did Steward Zhou actually fall in?"

Expressionless, Zhou Ming turned around and strode off toward the Kitchen.

Arriving at the door of the Kitchen, the moment he pushed open the greasy wooden door, the several people working inside all stopped what they were doing in unison.

The one chopping vegetables stopped his knife, the one kneading dough froze with hands in mid-air, and even the servant squatting by the back door chopping firewood looked up, staring at him with an indescribable gaze.

That gaze was exactly the same as the one Zhou Ming had just seen at the entrance of the latrine.

Liu Sandao was standing in front of the stove simmering soup. Hearing the sound, he turned around and sized Zhou Ming up from head to toe.

His gaze lingered for two seconds on the dark stains covering Zhou Ming's lapel, and then he let out a sigh.

In an experienced and earnest tone, he voiced the shared conclusion in everyone's mind at that moment:

"Steward, did you fall into the latrine pit? Hurry up and go wash yourself by the well outside."

Zhou Ming looked down, only now clearly seeing the black grime smeared on his lapel and cuffs.

It wasn't mud; it was the Impurities that had seeped out from his pores, though there was indeed no visible difference between these Impurities and the sludge in a cesspool.

He opened his mouth, but stopped himself. In the end, he decisively gave up trying to explain, turned around, and walked toward the well outside the Kitchen's back door.