Zhou Ming returned to 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 great expert at the Nascent Soul Stage, with a little person sitting in his Dantian that looked exactly like him, surrounded by a purple-gold halo.

Yet, as a great expert of the Nascent Soul Stage, he didn't have a single decent means of attack or defense, and what was even more ridiculous was that he didn't even know how to fly.

But what about him?

Never mind flying on a sword, he didn't even know how to lift his body three feet off the ground.

He had been too busy lately, taking over Yuyang Commandery, preparing for the enthronement ceremony, and playing mind games with Emperor Yongchang.

Things happened one after another, and he didn't even have time to catch his breath, so he couldn't spare the time to ponder these things.

Now that the affairs inside and outside the Imperial Palace had temporarily come to an end, and the people who needed to be arranged had been arranged properly, it was a rare moment of leisure, so he might as well take this opportunity to study it.

Zhou Ming closed his eyes and sank his consciousness into his Dantian.

The purple-gold little person in his Dantian was sitting cross-legged in the Void Realm, eyes slightly closed, with a halo of light flowing around him.

He connected his consciousness with his Nascent Soul, trying to use his will to drive the Nascent Soul to stand up.

The Nascent Soul obediently opened its eyes, changed from sitting cross-legged to standing upright, and stood steadily in the Void Realm of his Dantian, with a serious, almost solemn expression on its small face, looking quite like an immortal.

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.

Infuse mana into your feet, use your will to lift yourself up, and harmonize your body with the Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi, and you can break free from the shackles of the earth.

He held his breath, mobilized the mana in his Dantian, and slowly injected it into the Meridians of his legs.

A warm force rose from his Dantian, flowed down along the Meridians, and poured into his legs, making them feel slightly swollen, as if something was pushing out from inside.

Steadying his mind, Zhou Ming began to pull upwards with his will, imagining himself as a bubble blown by the wind, lightly leaving the chair and rising into the air.

Then he looked down, and his butt was still firmly planted on the chair, and his toes were still firmly planted on the ground.

Zhou Ming tried again, holding his breath, pouring all his mana into the Yongquan acupoints on the soles of his feet, his soles went numb, but his whole body remained motionless.

Zhou Ming didn't believe it, and tried to form a sword seal with his fingers.

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

With a flick of the sword seal, a sword light flies out, and you fly on the sword.

He formed several different sword seals.

Index and middle fingers pressed together, five fingers slightly curled with the palm facing up.

His fingers were almost twisted into a twist, but no sword light flew out.

After struggling for nearly half an hour, he had worked up a light sweat, but his butt hadn't even left the chair.

Zhou Ming leaned back in his chair and looked up at the high caisson ceiling of Wuying Hall.

He felt like a sports car whose engine was roaring but couldn't find the clutch, feeling suffocated.

Zhou Ming sorted out his thoughts again.

Novels are novels, reality is reality.

The mana in his body is real, and the Nascent Soul is also real.

The problem is not whether the power is enough, but that he doesn't know how to use this power to fight gravity.

Will?

The foundation of all Spells is will.

He relied on his will to hide his cultivation before, and he relied on his will to mobilize mana from his Dantian, so flying should also be driven by his will.

It's just that the command "use your will to lift yourself up" is too vague, the Nascent Soul doesn't understand, or rather, his own deep consciousness doesn't know how to execute this vague command.

Zhou Ming sorted out his thoughts and decided to try another method.

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

First, infuse mana into the Meridians of the whole body in the most uniform way, let the mana penetrate into every muscle and every inch of bone, walk along the Meridians, and make the body lighter than a feather.

He repeatedly hinted to the Nascent Soul with his will: I am lighter than air, the earth no longer binds the square inch under my feet.

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

It wasn't that he became lighter, but a strange feeling of suspension, as if his whole body was soaked in a pool of invisible warm water, and the air around him became viscous and elastic, supporting every inch of his skin.

Zhou Ming continued to pull upward with his will, holding his breath.

The tactile sensation of the chair under his butt weakened bit by bit, and the pressure between his back and the back of the chair was also slowly disappearing.

He looked down, his feet had left the ground.

It wasn't jumping up, it wasn't propping up, it was truly floating, his soles were at least three inches off the golden brick floor.

Zhou Ming's breath hitched, his heartbeat accelerated, and this distraction caused his body to sway and drop, almost slamming back into the chair.

He quickly gathered his mind and used his will to support his body again.

This time it was stable.

Then he tried to lift his will, and his body slowly rose, the chair, the desk, the official documents, and the inkstone all became smaller and smaller under his feet.

The top of his head was getting closer and closer to the caisson ceiling of Wuying Hall, those exquisite painted patterns were close at hand, he could even see a very thin layer of dust accumulated on the paintings.

Zhou Ming hurriedly pulled his will horizontally, and his whole body drifted forward swayingly, almost hitting the vermilion pillar when he passed it.

Zhou Ming scrambled to tilt to the side, his whole body spun in the air, the hem of his robe swept the curtain hanging on the pillar, and the curtain was swayed by him.

He quickly stabilized his body, readjusted the direction of his will, and slowly drifted to the very center of Wuying Hall, which was the most spacious.

Zhou Ming hovered in mid-air, looked down at the ground two or three zhang below, stretched out his hand, and watched his fingers spread and clench in the air.

Then he laughed.

No longer staying in the main hall, he reached his will out of the hall, and his whole body followed the direction of his will through the open door, sliding out silently like a gust of wind.

Sliding out of the hall, Zhou Ming rose higher and higher, the grey tiled roof of Wuying Hall gradually shrank under his feet, and the entire palace complex of the Imperial Palace spread out in the morning light.

The golden glazed tiles of Taihe Hall shone in the sunlight, and the withered branches of the old locust tree in the Imperial Garden behind Qianyuan Hall swayed gently in the wind.

The two rows of imperial guards at Yongning Gate were still standing straight, and no one noticed that there was a person floating above their heads hundreds of feet in the air.

Zhou Ming was no longer satisfied with circling above the Imperial Palace, he extended his will to the north, and his whole body turned into a streak of light that was almost invisible, flying towards the sky above Yuyang Commandery.

His Divine Sense, which covered a 40-kilometer range, played a wonderful role during flight.

Zhou Ming could clearly perceive the direction of the airflow, the speed of the wind, the undulations of the terrain below, and could even "see" a group of migratory birds moving in the air in advance, and nimbly bypassed them from the side before hitting them.

He circled above Yuyang Commandery, overlooking the city he had been familiar with for more than half a year since his Transmigration.

The grey city walls looked like a square chessboard grid from directly above, and the chessboard was densely packed with grey tiled roofs and crisscrossing bluestone streets.

The wind whistled past his ears, his robes billowed, the sky was high and the earth was wide, and the cities, mountains, and rivers under his feet were spreading out before his eyes from an angle that had only appeared in his dreams before.

Zhou Ming accelerated and rushed into the high sky, white clouds brushed past him, and cold, moist mist hit his face.

He broke through the clouds and stopped on a boundless expanse of pure white.

Above his head was a clear, almost transparent azure sky, and beneath his feet was a sea of clouds billowing like cotton wool, with the dark green mountain ridges and silver-like rivers occasionally revealing themselves through the gaps in the sea of clouds.

The sun shone on him without any obstruction, warm and cozy.

Zhou Ming stood on the sea of clouds, opened his arms, closed his eyes, felt the very subtle touch of the wind sliding across his fingertips, and then let out a long breath.

Since his Transmigration, he had been living cautiously.

At this moment, the world was vast, no one could control him, no one could see him, he could fly wherever he wanted, as high as he wanted.

He opened his eyes, overlooking the faint green mountain range at the end of the sea of clouds, and cracked a wide, extremely brilliant smile.

Cultivation, it turns out it's fucking amazing.