The night was like water.
The room was pitch black, not a finger could be seen when extended.
Ning Zheng didn't light a candle; he just lay quietly on the bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
He began pondering his future path.
The manor defense battle had ended, and Ning Jiaojiao's mother hurriedly left.
Where did such a Great Cultivator escape to? What was she doing?
This wasn't something a small fry like Ning Zheng could worry about.
Previously, having never seen a real powerhouse in combat was fine; now, with his eyes opened, Ning Zheng felt he was too weak.
Although currently, his cultivation was progressing quickly, reaching a small realm every four or five days.
But he wondered.
If he were a bit stronger at the time, if he had reached the Four Viscera Realm, would the outcome have been different?
After all, he had a Celestial Spirit Root, and toxins could ignore realms to some extent.
"But where are there so many 'ifs'?"
