Chapter 5 - Cultivation Nerd (xianxia) 1

Chapter 1 - Who Is This Nerd?

Spring rain quietly fell upon Blazing Sun Mountain as evening approached, and the sun dipped below the horizon. A gentle breeze accompanied the rain as night drew nearer.

Yu Zhu, an outer elder of the Blazing Sun Sect, found himself tasked with managing the arena's fights. He lived up to his title as an Elder with his long white beard and a nearly bald head.

Despite his dissatisfaction with being there, Yu Zhu had little choice in the matter. As an Outer Elder, he was at the bottom of the hierarchy, and even in the rain, the tournament had to continue. All the participants were Body Tempering Cultivators.

"Liu Feng and Jia Man, please step into the arena," Yu Zhu called out to two disciples. With a wave of his hand, he created a translucent barrier around the arena by activating the inscription arrays on the walls.

Most of the disciples looked at him in wonder and began murmuring among themselves, discussing the prowess of cultivators. Yu Zhu knew this admiration wasn't the result of his own cultivation, as he had just activated the inscriptions on the walls. But he had no intention of convincing the young disciples otherwise.

Liu Feng was the first to enter the arena, donning a gray robe that epitomized the image of a cultivator. He possessed long dark silky hair, sharp features, and an expressionless face. Even his demeanor exuded the aura of a seasoned cultivator. Though he wasn't one.

Yu Zhu recalled information about the youngster; he hailed from a clan in the southern part of the White Tiger Continent, a relatively small clan that had recently grown wealthy. As Yu Zhu remembered, the youngster had a few family members in the inner sect, and Liu Feng considered himself a fully-fledged cultivator.

In contrast, his opponent, Jia Man, was a young man with short red hair, a muscular build, and a more barbaric appearance than that of a typical cultivator. However, what stood out most about him was the overwhelming sense of pressure he exuded. It was a sense that made it clear to everyone that he would fight tooth and nail to win.

"Get ready to fight upon my command," Yu Zhu repeated the same speech he had given countless times today. The thought of having to do it all over again tomorrow with the semi-finalists made him contemplate breaking a limb or two to use injury as an excuse to return to his cultivation. He wasn't getting any younger.

Furthermore, Yu Zhu was aware of who was likely to win. Jia Man was at the nine-star Body Tempering level, whereas the other youngster was only at seven stars. Neither of them had exceptional talents, which was why they were competing in a tournament where the victor would earn a place in the inner sect.

This annual tournament was a chance for those with limited talents to enter the inner sect.

"Although my clan is a cultivator clan, my family branch hasn't produced one since my great-grandfather," Liu Feng stated. He took a basic fighting stance with fists forward. "Amongst my numerous cousins, I was chosen to defy the heavens, and it is my fate to one day become an immortal!"

Yu Zhu would have chuckled at this young man many decades ago. Yet now it seemed perfectly common with how often he had seen ambitious young men proclaim something like that.

Cultivation talent was a rare gift, often making youngsters feel like they were chosen by the heavens. Especially when they were raised in a village where they had never even seen a cultivator and thought of them as mystical beings.

Yu Zhu had once been one of those dreamy-eyed people. But now, at nearly a hundred years old, he no longer cared about being a chosen one. Yu Zhu had learned his lesson and knew there was nothing special about him.

Instead of striving for a breakthrough, he was here babysitting these kids, nearing the end of his lifespan. The Blazing Sun Sect higher-ups no longer thought he could break through, and they were giving him these time-wasting menial jobs.

Yu Zhu sighed and raised his hand, silencing the chattering students. The fight was about to begin, and every one of the youngsters kept their gazes on the fighting stage.

"Fight!"

Both combatants charged simultaneously, but it was evident to Yu Zhu that Jia Man would emerge victorious in this bout. The last time someone with a lower cultivation level had won in a tournament like this was about five decades ago when Grand Elder Zun Gon defeated a nine-star Body Tempering practitioner as a seven-star.

Could Liu Feng be another exception? He wondered.

As soon as they closed the distance, Liu Feng attempted a palm strike, but Jia Man swiftly countered with a punch to the face, sending Liu Feng flying.

Liu Feng crashed into the arena wall, leaving many disciples gasping in shock as blood streamed from his head.

Well... it seemed that Liu Feng wasn't as exceptional as he'd hoped.

"Take the disciple to the infirmary," Yu Zhu instructed one of the attendants responsible for tending to injured disciples. The last bout had clearly shaken them.

Jia Man snorted and walked away without glancing at his fallen opponent. He demonstrated raw power and a ruthless side, showing he might win the tournament.

Now, there was someone who could be considered special.

If he wasn't old, and still had the time to take on disciples, Elder Yu Zhu would have offered the young red-haired man the chance to become his personal disciple.

*******

Nestled on the fringes of the outer sect's territory was a large medical complex. Within these hallowed walls, the air seemed to reverberate with a harmonious blend of herbal notes, the subtle allure of pharmaceuticals, and the refreshing essence of mint.

Amidst the medicinal aroma, a man with vibrant green hair moved gracefully among the injured disciples sprawled on the floor. This man was Che Cheng, a healer of the Blazing Sun Sect, known as the Green Elder, owing to the color of his hair, a testament to his mastery of poison and medical techniques.

Today was unlike any other day, as Che Cheng found himself tending to several more wounded disciples than usual. Among them were the impulsive young fighters who engaged in daily brawls and frequented his domain.

However, with the ongoing tournament, an even greater influx of injured disciples needed medical assistance. Che Cheng's gaze wandered toward a young man, one of the patients who had suffered injuries during the competition.

At first glance, there was nothing particularly remarkable about the young man. His talents were average, and he did not possess any apparent uniqueness. Yet, Che Cheng had observed a few intriguing aspects about him.

When the young man had regained consciousness, he displayed an unexpected resilience. Unlike others who would bemoan their misfortune, he had not despaired or cried out. This puzzled Che Cheng, who had anticipated the typical reaction of a disciple losing a match—protests and complaints.

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This particular disciple, named Liu Feng, was engrossed in reading basic texts about the theoretical aspects of cultivation and healing manuals that Che Cheng had placed within his reach. His concentration on these materials was so intense that one might have mistaken him for an ordinary mortal encountering such knowledge for the first time, rather than a disciple who had been part of the sect for nearly a year.

When Liu Feng had woken up and consumed a minor healing pill to mend his battered face, his reaction had been one of astonishment.

Considering the length of time Liu Feng had spent within the sect, it was inevitable that he had consumed numerous healing pills, leading Che Cheng to suspect possible brain damage. Therefore, he decided to keep a closer eye on the youngster, holding him under medical stay for longer than usual.

"Tch, let's hope this tournament concludes by the end of the week," Che Cheng muttered quietly.

********

I flipped another page, pretending not to notice the green-haired guy with bags under his eyes who was staring at me.

He looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while.

But I didn't have time to worry about him; I was still admiring the new world I had transmigrated into three days ago.

It seemed like that punch from Liu Feng's opponent had given this guy quite a shock, literally punching the soul out of him.

Liu Feng, the guy who swore against the heavens, was dramatic as fuck and chased after jade-skinned beauties when he lived back in his clan's city.

Thinking about the Liu Clan, my family in this world, I couldn't help but smile. My clan wasn't in a bad situation and was rising in power. They had recently even had enough wealth to allow them to send us to cultivate at one of the most prestigious Sects on the continent.

No matter how I looked at this situation, I didn't seem like protagonist material. I had no rival, no one had humiliated me, and my engagement with my fiancée had not been broken. However, my life wasn't that fortunate either, but I couldn't say I was unlucky.

The worst thing that had happened in this guy's life was getting defeated in this tournament. But even then, that wasn't something shameful, as no one else could have done any better if they were in the same position.

In cliché cultivation stories, fighting an opponent only two minor realms above them guaranteed a win for the protagonist. But in reality, most people weren't like that in a fair fight; one would need better martial techniques to win against someone stronger.

"Good, you look better," the healer finally said, breaking his silence after staring at me for a good minute. "That was quite the head injury you had. Now that you're awake, you can take this healing pill. In case the pain comes back, use it."

I got up and walked out of the infirmary room, which looked like nothing more than a Chinese-style room. People were fighting in the nearby arena, but I didn't bother staying to watch who would be the winner of this tournament.

What interested me more was the green pill in my hands. This thing had healed a broken nose in seconds!

The memories of this body supplied the knowledge that a broken nose was a minor injury, something a Tier 1 Minor Healing Pill could heal.

But as someone who came from a non-cultivation world, this was nothing short of a miracle!

As an avid reader of Xianxia stories, I read those things for the same reason many others do: the face-slapping and mountain-slapping cultivators. But living in those worlds was a whole different thing altogether.

I shook my head, attempting to refocus on the present. As exciting as this situation was, I needed to remain composed and avoid raising any suspicions.

The previous inhabitant of this body seemed oblivious to any reports of body takeovers, and it would be best to play it safe. Information about such occurrences might be restricted to the higher echelons only.

Nevertheless, impersonating the original Liu Feng posed quite a challenge. If I had to sum him up in one word, it would be "cliché." He was a brash and arrogant young man who went around declaring himself as someone chosen by the heavens and all that nonsense.

His behavior was the sort that could easily lead to my death at the hands of an arrogant young master or a wannabe protagonist. Despite his average talents, Liu Feng incessantly boasted about battling the heavens.

Yet, despite all his flaws, I held a degree of respect for him because of his relentless work ethic. He trained diligently for hours every day. It was tragic that his life had ended so abruptly, as the cultivators seemed oblivious to the dangers of head trauma.

I silently offered a prayer for the departed Liu Feng and continued my journey along the desolate roads.

Most of the outer sect's disciples had flocked to the tournament; this world lacked diverse forms of entertainment.

In this realm, there were five known stages of cultivation:

Body Tempering

Qi Gathering

Foundation Establishment

Core Formation

Nascent Soul

Each of these stages had minor sub-stages, ranging from one to nine stars. There were rumors that breaking through to the Nascent Soul Realm could lead to immortality.

But the original Liu Feng didn't know shit about that.

If this world adhered to the clichés of xianxia, it was almost certain that there were stages beyond the Nascent Soul Realm, possibly even higher realms where a Nascent Soul cultivator would be considered a mere servant.

Or perhaps I was letting xianxia tropes cloud my judgment, as why would a Nascent Soul Realm cultivator work as a servant when they could rule these lands?

Regardless, none of this directly concerned me. I was merely a seven-star Body Tempering nobody.

I wasn't overly fixated on pursuing any grand aspirations. While reaching greater heights would be nice, I wasn't consumed by ambition. Maybe later? But for now, I was more curious about other things like these pills, techniques, and seemingly 'mundane' things that these people took for granted.

I wasn't necessarily dissatisfied with my position in the sect. Sure, I wasn't an inner disciple, and my talent in cultivation wasn't exceptionally high, but it wasn't too low either. Moreover, very few could become inner disciples in their first year. If one reached the Qi Gathering Realm before the age of twenty, they were usually accepted as inner disciples without needing to participate in any tournaments.

Speaking of cultivation talent, in this world, it was measured by the number of branches on a person's spiritual root. I had 53 branches, while 50 was considered average. Those with sixty or more could become inner disciples with only some effort.

I didn't care to compare myself to my peers. Instead, I gazed at the horizon and noticed it was late.

"Damn, the library must be closed by now," I muttered.

My dorm room was located in one of the outer buildings of the Blazing Sun Sect. Since the entire sect was situated on a massive mountain, it meant I had to descend a considerable number of stairs.

Fortunately, due to my new body, I barely felt winded when I reached my lodgings.

The dorm buildings were three stories high, made of wood, and had a Chinese-styled roof. Thankfully, there were no other disciples here, as the tournament would last another couple of days. Most students would sleep in their dorms and watch the fights.

I entered the building and noticed doors every four meters. However, I continued past all those doors until I found one numbered 314. It was odd because there were definitely not 314 rooms in the building. Even the original Liu Feng didn't know what this was all about.

Perhaps it was some way of ranking the students?

Taking out an iron key, I unlocked the door, and it made a loud clicking sound. These locks were somewhat outdated compared to modern versions, but there were probably doors with strange inscriptions that didn't even need a key to open.

The room was small. It barely had enough space for a bed, a desk, and a chest next to the desk where I could store my belongings. The place was dusty, with scrolls and books scattered around, the bed was in disarray, and clothes were strewn everywhere.

I ran my finger along the desk, and a thin coating of dust collected on my fingertip. I immediately opened the windows and sighed.

"Well, time to bring some order to this place," I said as I rolled up my sleeves.

An organized mind could only work in an organized room.

...

An hour later, the small room was spotless. Scrolls and books were neatly arranged on the desk. Clothes were folded into two piles: clean ones and ones that needed to be washed.

With the room organized, I collapsed onto the bed as I heard some students returning from the arena. While they were still celebrating, I decided it was time to sleep.

I couldn't help but feel thrilled about tomorrow. Despite being here for over three days, my heart beat excitedly at the thought of learning about this world.

Xin Ma, the outer elder responsible for the library, had a head of black hair with silver strands, something many said made it hard to determine his age. He also sported large circular glasses, which was a peculiar low-tier artifact that helped him read faster.

The library allowed free access to all the library books as long as they remained within the building's walls or they could borrow one for some time. But the disciples sometimes tried to sneak some extra books out. They were unsuccessful as there were inscriptions on the walls that stopped someone from taking books out of the place. Though none of the disciples knew that tidbit of information.

Despite the occasional annoyance of his job, Xin Ma cherished days like these when events drew away most disciples, sparing him from dealing with the troublesome youths.

Sighing, he watched the countless rows of shelves, reaching as high as the ceiling, housing a vast repository of low-level techniques and knowledge on basic cultivation practices. However, despite his enthusiasm for reading about techniques, he had long since learned that these shelves were useless for those beyond the Body Tempering Realm.

Though still considered young among his peers, Xin Ma harbored greater ambitions in life and aspired to rise beyond his current status as an Outer Elder. He yearned for a path of cultivation rather than spending his days among dusty tomes.

Suddenly, the rhythmic sound of a cane striking the wooden floor broke the library's silence. Xin Ma immediately recognized the source without even turning his gaze.

As an old man came into view, he looked like he had one foot in the grave. With a peculiar goat-like beard jutting from his chin, small beady eyes, and a hunched back, the old man leaned on his broom as a makeshift cane for support.

Known as 'Goat Geezer' among the sect members, few knew his actual name. Xin Ma remembered that this old man had been part of the sect since his own days as a disciple.

The old geezer's name was Shan Sha, a cultivator who never advanced past the Qi Gathering stage. His unwavering loyalty to the sect was the sole reason for him still being around.

"Another one of those bloody tournaments has come around?" the geezer snorted as he settled into one of the many chairs lining a long table where disciples would usually read. "I swear, it's all just useless peacocking. They're doing it solely to please the Grand Elder. Aside from the man himself, no one believes another like him will rise from the outer sect to become a Grand Elder."

Even after easing into the chair, the geezer continued to breathe heavily. A simple walk had already become quite a challenge for him.

"You're still kicking it, Shan Sha?" Xin Ma joked.

The old man responded with a wheezing laugh. "Don't worry, I'll outlive all of you."

Normally, Xin Ma wouldn't allow the old man to make such remarks in front of others, as it would cause him to lose face. But since it was just the two of them, he didn't mind the jests. These conversations with the geezer were what made his days bearable.

As the old man gathered his breath, he continued, "By the way, when will the Acceptance Ceremony take place? I wouldn't wish to be you at that time, even if I were to regain my youth."

Xin Ma winced, and the old man cackled at his reaction. When new disciples arrived, they were often curious, rummaging through books and causing trouble. Of course, they grew bored of reading and moved on after a month or two, but it was still a hassle to deal with every year.

"Please don't remind me of that whole thing. It is one of the damn reasons I don't want to stay as an Outer Elder. We are all just glorified servants with fancy titles. The Inner Elders would never suffer something like this," Xin Ma ranted. "I barely have time for cultivation in the evenings."

"I wish I had the same problems as you youngsters." The old street sweeper shrugged.

********

After enjoying the free breakfast at the dining hall, I immediately made my way toward the library.

The entire Blazing Sun Sect was built atop a mountain, with the whole sect fit inside that mountain. But it was a big ass mountain, so everything took climbing an ungodly amount of stairs to get anywhere.

Fortunately, there were some blessings to this whole thing. Like how most disciples skipped breakfast to attend the tournament fights. So at least I didn't have to wait in line.

I walked up the countless stairs, clutching a notebook and brush in my hand. The only sounds accompanying my footsteps were the chirping of birds. At least the scenery was pleasant, with trees all around and lush greenery as far as the eye could see.

Upon reaching my destination, I breathed out a sigh of relief. Even this body was beginning to feel the fatigue of climbing so many stairs.

The library was like a large Chinese-themed tower. At the entrance, there was a statue of a scholarly-looking man, with a book in one hand and a sword in another.

There was no one around here, and I took a moment to appreciate the scenery. This place was built high enough that I could catch a glimpse of the arena where my compatriots were beating each other to death. Though from this distance, it was hard to tell who was fighting.

Walking closer to the statue, I searched for memos that might reveal the scholar's identity. Unfortunately, cultivators were shit at cataloging things, so there was no information about the statue.

With a disappointed sigh, I walked through the entrance, which was spacious enough to fit people three times my height. As soon as I stepped into the building, the sounds of chirping birds and the gentle rustling of leaves vanished.

Was this some kind of noise-canceling array?

Furthermore, the scent of the trees dissipated, leaving behind only the unmistakable aroma of ink and paper.

The library was filled with an astonishing number of books. So much so that it made me doubt what I knew about the technological level of this world.

This world lagged thousands of years behind modern times, remaining stagnant for generations. So how did they even get this much paper?

There were shelves many times my height, all brimming with books. There was even a staircase that led to a second floor.

Thankfully, there were no people around. So I could study supernatural powers that made no sense, without anyone bothering me.

The only other people in the room were the librarian, a middle-aged man with Harry Potter-esque glasses and strands of white in his dark hair. There was also an old man sitting at a long desk.

Liu Feng's original memories weren't particularly informative about the old man's identity. He could have been someone beneath Liu Feng's notice or perhaps an Elder from the inner sect he had never met.

It was better to be cautious and assume the old man was a super powerful cultivator with unassuming looks. Approaching the librarian, I clasped my fist and bowed respectfully to them before addressing the librarian, "Excuse me, honorable elder. Can I study here today? I don't see any other disciples around."

The librarian nodded and replied, "Yes, the library is always open to those willing to learn."

I expressed my gratitude with a nod and proceeded to explore the library, despite the somewhat disorganized state of the shelves.

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When disciples took a book to read, they returned it where they could and rarely where they found it. The original Liu Feng was the same, as he had been excited many times to train the technique he had read about to care for 'small' things like putting the books in their proper places.

But there were certain parts of the library no one cared about, and they were somewhat organized. These areas were dedicated to topics unrelated to cultivation techniques, and only scholars frequented them. Fortunately, scholars tended to respect the library and return books to their original spots. This was the impression I gathered from Liu Feng's memories.

I began my studies with a basic book tucked away in a quiet corner of the library. It covered the fundamentals of Body Tempering, a subject typically taught within families or among fellow disciples by word of mouth. Consequently, not many bothered to read such books. I selected a few similar texts and carried them to a nearby desk, where I settled down to read, starting from the very beginning.

Body Tempering, one-star. When someone entered this stage, their strength was still the same as an average person. Except that all the impurities are excreted from the pores, and the body becomes prepared for cultivation.

I hit a hurdle on the very first page. What did it mean for the body to be 'prepared' for cultivation? How did achieving one-star Body Tempering result in the expulsion of impurities? Furthermore, who decided what was beneficial or detrimental to the body? If everyone expelled these impurities, how could one claim they were harmful for cultivation when no one had tried cultivating with impurities?

I would need to study dozens or hundreds of people breaking through to one-star Body Tempering to understand even something as simple as this.

If expelling these impurities was indeed beneficial, was there an optimal method to achieve it? A supposed 'close to perfect practice'?

Ultimately, I sighed and shook my head in frustration. I lacked the necessary resources to delve into this subject at the moment.

The rest of the book remained consistent, with content cultivators often took for granted. It lacked in-depth explanations for everything.

Moving on to other books, they discussed the talent ratings in this world and various related topics. Talent rating in this world was somewhat complex; in some regions, one could be considered average, while in others, one would be seen as talented.

Take the original Liu Feng as an example; in his clan, he was considered relatively talented. However, here, he was merely average.

The book delved into great detail about what different regions considered talented. However, I disregarded this information, as the perception of 'talented' could vary if someone was in a different location or period of time.

Instead, I grabbed my notebook and began jotting down my own ranking system for clarity, which would help both myself and future readers. I decided to categorize it from A to D Ranks.

Having a minimum of twenty branches in one's Spiritual Root was essential to embark on the path of cultivation. Technically, those with fewer branches could attempt training, but their progress would be severely limited.

A range of 20 to 39 branches in their Spiritual Root would be noted as D Rank aptitude. I added the latter part myself.

Individuals with this level of talent usually remained at the Body Tempering stage and rarely advanced to the Qi Gathering Realm. Although there were exceptions, they usually reached only one or two stars in that realm.

C Rank aptitude encompassed 40 to 59 branches in their Spiritual Root, the same rank as mine. In larger sects, this was considered average talent.

On average, those with this level of talent could become Qi Gathering Realm cultivators and might reach the upper echelons of that realm. However, there was a slim chance of breaking through and becoming Foundation Establishment Realm experts.

B Rank aptitude included 60 to 79 branches, marking the stage where talent became critical. These individuals possessed the potential to reach the Core Formation Realm and serve as the backbone of any sect. Some might even have the opportunity to become Sect Leaders in smaller sects.

A Rank aptitude comprised 80 to 99 branches, representing the stage where the next generation of major Sect Leaders was born. With a stroke of luck, one could even reach the Nascent Soul Realm.

This was generally what Liu Feng already knew, but I organized it more clearly. What followed, however, was new information that Liu Feng had no previous knowledge of: talents that surfaced only once every few hundred or thousand years.

S Rank aptitude was denoted by exactly 100 branches in one's spiritual root. These individuals possessed Perfect Cultivation Physiques, extremely rare and emerging only once every century or so.

There wasn't much additional information about this rank, but there were a few sentences describing talent levels beyond 100 branches. I decided to write down this information, even though there was little information available about it.

S+ Rank aptitude, with over 101 branches. They're known as Extreme Physiques, 'extreme' because despite how fast they cultivate, they die young.

I had some other questions about what determined the number of Spiritual Root branches or how they worked exactly, but those were the kinds of questions I wouldn't have answers to anytime soon.

Are there any books on alchemy around here? There must be some pills that help with impurity extraction. After all, there are healing pills, so something like that would make sense if it existed. Maybe the alchemists will have a clearer explanation of what it means to expel impurities from the body.

Now that I thought about it, I couldn't help but be curious about one thing.

Who tests these pills? If they do test them, do they take into account any long-term effects?

I went and put the books back where I found them, as I had already written down the useful information.

I looked around for any books that seemed related to alchemy. Some basic medical books here gave instructions for an outdated method of first aid, but nothing else appeared to be related to alchemy.

"Maybe I just don't know the location of such books in this huge, disorganized library."

With that in mind and an anxious heart, I approached the librarian. The old man was already gone, so the librarian was the only senior left, and I could only hope that this guy wasn't going to start a blood feud by asking a question.

It sounded kind of dumb when I thought about it. But this was a world where young masters exterminated clans just so they wouldn't lose face or for some other dumb reason.

"Excuse me, honorable elder, do you know where I can find some books on the basics of alchemy?" I asked, trying to stroke his ego as much as possible without coming off as insincere.

"Books about things like Artifact Creation, Inscriptions, or Alchemy aren't something you'll find in a library for free," the man explained, pushing up his glasses slightly. "To get access to that kind of information for free, you either need to be an Inner Disciple training under an Inner Elder or be a Core Disciple. Though for someone like you, your best chance is to look around the markets. But because of the tournament, no one is there to open any stalls."

Well, that sucks. But there isn't anything I could do about it for now, so it was better to turn in a different direction.

Also, Liu Feng had no savings. The guy didn't even think about what would happen if he failed the exam and had to stay another year as an Outer Disciple.

...

Hours passed, and I finished my daily reading session. I put the books back in their respective places and prepared to leave.

I had learned a little more about the basics, mostly reaffirming what the original Liu Feng already knew. For instance, in the Body Tempering Realm, talent didn't carry as much weight yet, since we didn't utilize our Spiritual Roots or Qi.

While talent played a minor role in one's progress within the Body Tempering Realm, hard work and access to resources were more crucial. At least when it came to the speed of advancement.

As I exited the library, the midday sun kissed my face, and the sounds of birds and rustling leaves once again filled my ears.

Now it was time to go and do some physical training! After all, I didn't want to get my brains plastered by some goon or end up like one of those bullied protagonists because my progress was too slow.

However, as I strolled along the stone pathway, approaching the descent down the stairs, I noticed an old man with a smile on his face, busy sweeping leaves at the side.

He was the same elderly man I had encountered in the library, likely a janitor.

At least, that's what an ordinary person from this world would think. But having read dozens, perhaps even over a hundred xianxia novels, I had developed a keen eye for clichés.

An old man janitor? I could spot the trope from a mile away! There was a decent chance that this old man was a hidden powerhouse. Perhaps he was a revered elder or even a clan ancestor.

Should I try to approach him? Going by cliché standards, he shouldn't be a villain, and having someone to watch my back in case I inadvertently offended some young master could prove invaluable.

However, what if I was wrong? He might just be an ordinary old man. My entire assumption was based on a cliché that might not even be true.

Regardless, even if he wasn't some hidden boss, there was a lot of wisdom to gain from an elder like him.

With that thought in mind, I changed course and approached the old man.

Please be a super monster in hiding. Though I hated cliches in my last life, I wouldn't mind it now if it ended up improving my situation!

It was the kind of situation where I wouldn't watch a show about a multi-millionaire with no problems in his life, but I would love to be one.

Chapter 3 - Nerd Guy Doing Nerdy Things

"Hello there, do you need any help?" I asked the old man, cautiously bowing and clasping my fist in respect as one would to a senior.

He looked at me, raised a questioning brow, and frowned. "Who the hell are you?"

"Uh, I'm the guy who was reading in the library and noticed that you were working hard even at your age. Even someone strong should take care of their health more," I tried to soften my words by indirectly calling him strong, just in case this guy was really just an old janitor.

There was no losing option for me as long as I didn't provoke the old man too much, especially if he was a powerhouse. Or maybe he was a powerhouse in hiding, and I could end up as collateral damage... Perhaps I shouldn't have gotten involved with this.

"No, I don't need anyone to help me with my job," the old man snorted and went back to sweeping, his hands shaking a bit as he had to lean on the broom every now and then to take a rest.

I stood there and stared; maybe he really was just an old man. Now I felt a bit bad for trying to take advantage of him. He was probably just an elderly man who had to work here because he had no other choice.

It seemed like I didn't have that protagonist luck after all. Still, I felt sorry for the old guy, and there was no doubt some things I could learn from him. "So, I could go and bring you your lunch."

Okay, I probably said that in the most awkward way ever.

But the stairs in this place were crazy, and even I would get tired walking up and down those, not to mention someone his age.

The old man sighed and turned around, "What's your deal, kid?"

"Honestly," I stopped for a split second, thinking about how to phrase my words. But instead, I decided to be truthful. "I feel sorry for you, and for old people in general who have to work laborious jobs even after their retirement age. Sometimes, I wonder if this isn't just me trying to be nice, but maybe I too am afraid that I might end up like that one day. If I do end up like that, I would like someone young to offer some help when they can. Oh, and I was also hoping to learn a thing or two from someone who has lived so long in the sect. There is plenty to learn from an old man in a profession where people die young."

He stared at me, and it was hard to tell what he could be thinking behind that stern look on his face. But he sighed again and shrugged, "Go and get me some tea, then."

Well, I didn't get slapped into a fleshy smudge, so that was a win for now.

I turned around and started walking down the stairs, and halfway down, it became clear that this was going to be a bit tiring, even for me.

...

By the time I returned, the old man was still sweeping around the same place, and I had a wooden cup of tea with a small cover above it. Fortunately, since I was running, it didn't take me even ten minutes to get back here.

However, I was breathing heavily, and my lungs felt like they were on fire. This was good training; maybe I should consider stair climbing for endurance.

"Here is your tea," I offered him his tea.

The old man raised a questioning brow as he took the tea from my hand and gave it a sniff. Then, he sat down on the ground near the scholarly statue and patted the spot next to him. I took that as a sign and went to sit down. As I settled, he remarked, "You're either exceptionally kind or just generally foolish. Why do something like this? Do you think a cultivator has all the time in the world? You should be training."

"Running up and down the stairs was excellent training," I replied, smiling despite the old man's comments. I leaned against the foot of the statue and continued, "Whether I live for one, one hundred, or one thousand years, life is meaningless if you don't do what you want during that time. I wanted to bring you some tea, and I did. I wouldn't call that a waste of time. Even if I live for a thousand years and spend nine hundred of those years in indoor cultivation, did I truly live longer than a hundred years?"

Some cultivators could live quite long. However, what was the use of living for 100 years if you spent 90 of those years indoors training? That was one of the many things I didn't understand about cultivators. The old man was also viewing things from a cultivator's perspective.

I turned toward the old man and was surprised to see his wide eyes. Was he that shocked by my answer?

"Heh," the old man chuckled. "I never looked at it that way."

That was when I realized that this guy could still be some formidable old master cultivator. So I cupped my hands in respect. "Of course, that is only my humble opinion as a disciple. I could be wrong too. But I'm not here for that, I'm here to ask you some questions, wise elder."

"Go on then, this is the most fun I've had in years," the old man's chuckle deepened.

"Why aren't there many explanations for different paths than the standard one? There are no records of them," I asked.

He must have lived here for decades, witnessing tens of thousands of sect disciples throughout the years.

The old man shrugged, "What's the use of writing down failures? Though powerful cultivators can have a long lifespan, no one wants to waste their time on useless things... Heh, kind of like how you are wasting your time on me."

"I wouldn't call you useless. You have already helped me quite a lot with that answer," I nodded. The old man shrugged and took a sip of his tea, clearly dismissing my compliments as useless comments.

"Well, let me tell you. The current way of cultivation has been perfected through tens of thousands of years by our ancestors and hasn't changed for thousands of years," he looked at the sky as if recalling a distant memory.

That... didn't make sense. I understood that cultivation had been optimized, but by that assumption, the current cultivation methods should be the best. Yet it was widely known through stories and legends that in the past, there were stronger cultivators, even outliers of the whole system who somehow became strong and defied their natural cultivation aptitude.

In the distant past, there were stories about immortals beyond the Nascent Soul Realm roaming the lands.

I shared my thoughts with the old man, and he rubbed his goat-like beard, deep in thought. "Huh, you make some good points. But that's because what cultivator would share a technique they worked hard on with others? Things like that could get lost in time. Also, it could have been an elixir that no longer exists. Or maybe, there was more Qi in the air back then."

He continued to offer various other reasons, like a treasure trove of assumptions from people across the ages.

But I somewhat understood why cultivation would halt at a certain stage.

Knowledge was power, literally in this world. Knowing a certain technique was power. A cultivator sharing their technique was like... by modern standards, it could be compared to telling a potential enemy how to create an atomic bomb and providing them with the tools to do so.

"In the past, there were many legendary cultivators whose powers defied common sense," the old man said. "Even the creator of this Sect, the Ten Thousand Sun Saint, was such a figure. He couldn't be harmed by flames, and some said he could wield the power of the sun from the palm of his hands."

Okay, that had to be exaggerated a bit over the years. Because... it had to be; such absurd power would be catastrophic if it existed. But there had to be some hints of truth to it. Maybe immunity to fire could be real, even if it contradicted everything I knew about physics and biology from my previous world.

But that was the most exciting part of this whole thing—figuring it out.

Although I might need to change my mindset regarding how I perceive the world and even the laws of physics themselves.

"You have been honest with me, kid. So I will be honest with you too. I don't have the answers to most of your questions, and I never asked questions like that, or even wondered about them." With a final clack, the old man put the empty wooden teacup down. "Maybe that was what held me back from advancing further in my cultivation. But I can still give you one piece of advice. I can tell that you're a curious kid but don't try experimenting with things on your own body."

I technically wasn't a kid, and I wasn't going to try things like that, "I might be curious, but I'm not dumb."

"That might be so, but I can tell that you're different from others," the old man turned toward him.

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"Different? How so?"

"By now, a lot of kids your age would have tried to force me to talk if they wanted answers. Break my fingers one by one, and then threaten to break my limbs too."

Holy shit, okay, that was way too extreme! Who even goes around beating on old men like that?

Right, xianxia nonsense and saving face.

"Of course, they never succeed," the old man snickered. "After all, most of the servants here are related to cultivators but had no talent or little talent to cultivate. The last thing we want is for someone to slip through and poison our sect's food at a feast, and kill us all."

Poison? Yeah, with that even a mortal could kill a careless cultivator.

"Did that happen before?" I asked, unsure.

"Oh yeah, the Great Sage of Divine Slaying Poison. He was known for killing his enemies and slaughtering whole clans like this," he nodded. "But don't worry, the Sects have taken countermeasures against something like that. It will never happen again. Though some have been worried since the Great Sage of Divine Slaying Poison hasn't been seen in hundreds of years."

Okay, first, Great Sage of Divine Slaying Poison? That name was way too much of a mouthful. But long and confusing titles were synonymous with xianxia.

"Well, I have to get back to work, and you should spend your time more wisely than with an old man like me. I already have a foot in the grave," he joked.

I shrugged and got up, "Come on now, old man, don't go around telling youngsters what to do. That is uncool."

He got my jesting tone and slapped me on the back, "You're an okay kid, so train hard so you don't die a useless death. Also, next time you come and bother me, don't forget to bring a cup of tea."

"Then I will make sure to bring a cup of tea every day," I stood up and started walking away. The old man sighed but didn't refuse my offer.

There was much to learn from someone like him. He had lived a long life in such a dangerous world, all while being a less-than-average cultivator. What were his methods for surviving so long in a profession where men usually met an early demise?

Next time, I should ask about his survival tips in a forest. He probably went on a lot of expeditions outside throughout his lifetime, and those were the things I was dreading as some were mandatory. No rule in the world said I wouldn't meet a Nascent Soul Powerhouse on my first outing.

Many might consider survival tips from nearly a hundred years ago outdated. However, that wasn't the case in a world like this. It was likely that the same exams, enemy sects, and petty rivalries that the old man had to deal with during his disciple years were the ones we were currently facing.

How could such a thing happen? Probably because the people in charge remained the same. If I were to guess why this world had seen few advancements over thousands of years, it was because, in two millennia, only two or three generations had passed at most. Even the

'younger' generations that were next in the line of power were hundreds of years old. Those who lived for centuries focused solely on their cultivation and cared little for progress elsewhere.

I descended the stairs and wandered into one of the many forests surrounding the mountain. Generally, the area was safe as I was still inside the sect's walls, making it an ideal training ground that remained hidden.

My first task was to place the brush and notebook atop a nearby boulder. Then, I approached a tree, clenched my fist, and prepared for a punch. Instinct and logic told me that I wouldn't break my hand by punching a tree with all my might. However, remnants of my past life still held me back.

After gazing at the tree for a few moments, I closed my eyes and imagined it as a fluffy bear. With that image in mind, I unleashed a full-force punch. Upon opening my eyes, despite what I expected, I saw a dent in the solid tree. The tree was thicker than my waist, far from flimsy or soft.

Holy shit! This is so amazing! I have superpowers!

No, I must calm down despite how amazing it felt to be superhuman. I could nerd out later.

I wasn't here merely to test my raw strength. Instead, I took a deep breath and focused on a specific technique, winding my fist back once more.

This time, I pushed aside the fear from my past world where fists were one of the most vulnerable parts of the human body. Here, it was like a dream, where my fist was unbreakable, and my power limitless. I needed to visualize the perfect punch and employ that martial technique.

My fist shot forward, and as I rotated it, the air around my fist twisted, forming a small twister that resembled a fang. The endpoint of this twister was the tip of my knuckle.

Piercing Fang Fist!

As soon as my fist made contact with the tree, I felt it shake and crumble under the power of my punch, taking out a large chunk.

In the end, I stared with my mouth agape at the missing piece, as if a giant drill had been used on one side of the tree.

How was this possible? It didn't make any sense! The laws of physics seemed to be mere suggestions here, but it was so incredible!

The tree fell to the ground, and I found myself in a trance, staring at it for a couple of minutes.

I knew this would happen; Piercing Fang Fist was the martial technique that Liu Feng had perfected over the years. Despite my muscle memory, I couldn't execute it quite as well as he could on my first try.

It was astonishing that this was considered one of the lowest-grade Martial Techniques.

In this world, Martial Techniques were categorized into four grades:

Mortal Grade

Earth Grade

Sky Grade

Heaven Grade

Piercing Fang Fist belonged to the Mortal Grade, the weakest category. Something you could even buy in the market with a bit of luck.

Mortal Grade techniques were considered attainable by normal people, yet it was still so incredibly impressive!

Just the thought of higher-grade techniques made my heart race. How powerful would a Sky or Heaven Grade technique be? Even Earth Grade was bound to be something amazing!

Techniques were further rated within each grade, divided into low, middle, and high tiers. My technique was a middle-tier Mortal Grade.

I attempted the technique again, and a whip-like motion followed, as I didn't aim at anything. I experimented with hip twists and power from my legs, trying to apply knowledge from my previous world, but my long hair kept hitting my face like a horse's tail.

It even stung my eyes a bit. "Damn, why did that idiot think keeping long hair was a good idea?"

I rubbed my stinging eyes and then gathered a handful of hair.

Taking out a roll of bandages, I used some to tie my hair into a ponytail. Even then, as I moved quickly, my hair continued to slap me or obstruct my vision. That's when I realized something crucial. "The hair has to go."

The original Liu Feng cherished his hair, but it would be a hindrance in any fight. Besides, I knew from Liu Feng's memories that longer hair was harder to maintain, requiring extensive conditioning. A waste of time, in my opinion.

Blasphemy! — Called a part of me. That part was the original Liu Feng's memories that I decided to ignore.

However, there was one lingering concern. Would anyone notice? After all, Liu Feng was quite fond of his hair.

Perhaps I could use the excuse that I cut it to strengthen my resolve.

With a touch of anxiety, I decided to cut my hair after this training session.

********

Xin Ma managed his library as he always did, but at least today had been a bit more interesting. It wasn't every day that someone became so engrossed in books about the basics.

At least the kid had some basic decency, refraining from making noise or attempting to sneak the books out of the building. He even returned the books to their proper places. This had quickly become Xin Ma's favorite disciple generation, which wasn't a difficult threshold to cross since he didn't like any of them. They usually just made his job more difficult.

Suddenly, someone else entered, and with the unmistakable sound of something hard hitting the floor, Xin Ma knew that the old man had arrived. However, unlike before, the old man had a smile on his face as he took a seat with an empty wooden cup in hand. "You won't believe what I saw today."

"A dragon with crow's legs?"

"No, something even rarer. A likable disciple," the old man nodded. "He actually felt sorry for me as I cleaned."

Cleaning? Xin Ma wondered, then realized what had happened and chuckled, with the old man following suit.

In certain areas of the sect, such as the library and its surroundings, having cleaners posed a security risk. Instead, the Sect employed an Inscription Master to create cleaning arrays and similar solutions.

Moreover, having an old man undertake strenuous work posed its own security risk. Fatigued individuals were more susceptible to bribes or external influences seeking to exploit them for personal gain.

There had been numerous instances of such incidents in the past, and the Blazing Sun Sect wouldn't have risen to become one of the most powerful sects in the White Tiger Continent by being careless.

The only reason the old man was still around, performing "cleaning" duties, was because he had nothing else to do in his old age. He had long since given up on his cultivation and now only wished to spend his remaining days in relaxation.

"Huh, what kind of brat could make even an annoying fellow like you fond of them?" Xin Ma cracked a smile. He knew how difficult it was to like the old man, Shan Sha, who was far too grumpy.

"Hey! I can be nice when I want to. It's just that young people nowadays lack the patience to earn someone's respect," the old man grumbled.

Even though they didn't look like it, many people in the Blazing Sun Sect were old. But among all the older people Xin Ma knew, this old man was the grumpiest.

Yet despite his prickly personality, old Shan would never talk behind your back. If he had something to say about you, he'd say it to your face—much better than those scheming elders in the Inner Sect who pretended to be friends and stabbed you in the back with smiles on their faces.

"Still, won't the Acceptance Trial take place soon? Hopefully, there won't be any exceptionally talented new juniors. Since he's still far from eighteen years old, he can enter the Inner Sect as long as he wins the tournament next year," Xin Ma suggested.

"Meh, the brat isn't the type to be deterred by something like that. From what I've seen, he doesn't seem to care about such matters. As long as he reaches Qi Gathering before the age of twenty, he'll be able to enter the Inner Sect that way," the old man shrugged and adjusted his chair.

For some reason, the old man believed this youngster would make it. Well, Xin Ma wished the young man good luck.

Entering the Qi Gathering Realm before the age of twenty without external aid was hard, as it was a well-known bottleneck in cultivation...

Hey, Liu Feng!" A young man with a large belly called out, rushing to sit next to me in the bustling cafeteria. Even that short dash through the cafeteria seemed to leave him breathless. "I didn't see you anywhere in the tournament stands?"

Despite his weight, I was surprised he was tired. After all, he was a cultivator too.

Maybe this was a side effect of a martial technique he might be practicing.

Unlike the emptiness of the week before, the cafeteria was filled with hustle and bustle. It now resembled a mess hall, abuzz with conversations about cultivation, and some used the time to read while they ate. A few peculiar guys even balanced themselves on sticks while dining.

Perhaps that last one was some sort of training method?

"I was using that time to rest," I replied to the plump youth.

Since I had Liu Feng's memories, I should know who this guy was as they apparently were friends. However, Liu Feng had not bothered remembering the guy's name.

Liu Feng had assumed he would be out of the Outer Sect after the tournament and would be a useless waste of time to bother remembering the name of some no-name loser. At least that was what Liu Feng considered him. This was kind of ironic because, by that view, Liu Feng himself should also be a loser.

But I wasn't here to judge how much of an asshole the previous owner of this body was. He had his faults and was young. At least he hadn't gone around making enemies, or bullying people who would have come for revenge down the line.

"I almost didn't recognize you with the short hair," the fat guy said.

At that moment, an overwhelming sensation surged through me, and the world around seemed to freeze. A rush of adrenaline flooded my veins, causing my heart to skip a beat, then another, until it seemed to hang suspended in the air, its rhythm silenced momentarily. The faint hum of life's constant motion faded into a distant echo, leaving only a profound silence in its wake. Every detail, every nuance, became magnified in the clarity of that suspended moment.

Had he noticed anything strange? Liu Feng was known to take care of his hair.

"Anyway, the tournament was exciting. It's a shame that most of us couldn't get through, but the participants this year were above average. Even some of those who lost were taken in by the Outer Elders as personal disciples," he sighed and shook his head.

"Yeah, shame," I nodded.

It seemed like no one gave a shit about me cutting my hair. They barely even noticed, which kind of made sense. I was just paranoid about it, and even Liu Feng had rarely talked with people from the outer sect.

The closest person to Liu Feng in the outer sect had been this chubby guy, and even then he wouldn't have gone as far as to call him a friend. At best, the chubby guy was an acquaintance but often acted more like Liu Feng's errand boy. Liu Feng had been more concentrated on training so he could enter the inner sect and make real friends, his thoughts, not mine.

He was kind of stupid for thinking that. What made Liu Feng think the people from the inner sect would look at him in a better view than he looked at the outer sects?

Though I didn't agree with his ideals, I could understand where he came from. Liu Feng grew up in the Liu Clan where he always had to kiss ass to get cultivation resources. He had grand dreams, and there was no low he wouldn't stoop to if it helped advance his cultivation. Sadly even that demeanor was nothing special amongst cultivators.

"How many passed the exam to go into the inner sect?" I asked.

"Bin Bao passed by winning the tournament, and Wen Da due to the talent he displayed," he sighed, jealousy reeking out of his voice. "Hundreds of participants, and only those two passed."

Neither of those names sounded familiar. I shrugged, "Did anything else happen?"

"Well, you know, just the usual. At least the tournament was tame this year. Only three people got their cultivation broken, and only one was killed in an accident," he shrugged. "Also, one of them who had their cultivation broken started a blood feud between his and the opponent's clans on the outside."

What the hell? They were really something... What could I even say to that?

Thankfully, I hadn't participated too much in that whole mess. There was a good chance I won't participate in the tournament even in the next year.

Getting my cultivation broken didn't sound good, and even if I won, there was a good chance some of my defeated opponents would take offense and call thirteen generations of his ancestors.

At the Body Tempering stage, we didn't have Qi yet, so breaking the cultivation essentially meant breaking the body in ways that someone would no longer be able to advance as a cultivator.

I would rather spend my time reading and talking with interesting people than starting feuds and getting my cultivation crushed.

"You dare!" Suddenly, someone yelled and stood up on one of the tables. "I will have your whole Yuchin Clan killed by tomorrow!"

"Come and try it, you Tang bastard!" Yelled out someone else, putting his hand on the sheath of his sword.

Yep, this was the time for me to get out of here.

Standing up, I walked toward the counter, delivered my tray of leftover food, and asked, "Can I have two hot cups of tea? Make them as hot as possible.."

The server behind the counter nodded and handed me a tray with two still-steaming cups of hot tea while taking my own.

"Thank you," I smiled.

The man behind the counter had a small smile of his own. He nodded while handing over my previous tray to the dishwashers and turned back to me, "Have a nice day."

"You too."

I had never seen any of the other fellow cultivators who dined in the cafeteria thank them. Those who worked in the kitchen might be mortals or Body Tempering cultivators at best. But it was always a good idea to respect the people who made your food.

As someone who had briefly worked in the service industry as a part-time job after high school, the service staff sometimes got their revenge against rude customers.

The yells and hollering in the distance alerted everyone else to what was happening, and soon disciples crowded around the two bickering disciples.

Unlike them, I walked the opposite way and out of the dining hall while being careful no one knocked down my teacups.

Once outside, I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the fresh morning air. After staring at the towering library in the distance I went down the stairs with a smile.

Even if, in the future, I never got that far in cultivation, I would at least end up with amazing glutes by walking up and down stairs so many times.

...

Once again, my rule of never even being in the vicinity of trouble worked, and I arrived at the library without being hassled or starting a blood feud.

The journey up and down the stairs had become easier. All this walking had amounted to something, and I was barely winded.

People went in and out of the library, and I had to look around until I caught sight of the old janitor putting some books on a shelf.

Like the cafeteria, the library was packed with people now that the tournament was no longer ongoing.

I waved at the old janitor and put his cup of tea on the empty seat of the long table. I took my cup of tea and walked away while he smiled and sent me a brief nod.

Others looked at me weirdly, but I acted like I didn't notice their gazes and got back to reading about some martial techniques.

Since I already had an attacking fist technique, I needed a movement technique, defensive technique, and maybe stealth if I could find it.

Maybe I should try and get a kicking technique? In case my arms got broken or something. However, using my legs in a fight where my arms were broken would be dangerous since my legs would be better used to run away from danger rather than breaking them.

I looked around a bit, gathered all the books about movement techniques, and planned to read them all and figure out which was the best.

Learning four new martial arts was pushing it a bit. It would take some time to master them enough to be battle-ready. Also, to be more efficient I had to be careful and pick the best martial arts I could while at the same time making sure they were compatible with each other.

Liu Feng had considered Mortal Grade martial arts inferior and not worth wasting time learning, and he wanted to learn Earth Grade martial arts. In his eyes, spending the same time learning Earth Grade martial arts was better than wasting time learning Mortal Grade martial arts that he wouldn't use anymore after getting to a certain stage.

He was right in a certain way, as learning a hundred Mortal Grade techniques was still worse than learning one Earth Grade one. It would be better to master one good technique than many bad ones.

But he took it to the extreme and thought too far into the future. One could not start running before they could even walk.

It was stupid when one thought about it this way, but I used to suffer from the same mistakes in my youth. The early twenties, when one felt like they had the world in their hands and could do anything.

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Of course, those years ended with me setting ambitious goals and overworking myself. When I didn't overwork myself, I felt like a failure. That was what happened most often when people set strict schedules for themselves.

Nobody should treat themselves like a robot, instead they should treat themselves like they would a friend they care about.

...

Hours passed, and I finally found some technique manuals that sounded promising and were compatible with the Piercing Fang Fist that I already practiced.

"What has got you so worried, young man," the old man's voice interrupted my thoughts.

He had a smile on his face and a cup of tea.

Was that the tea I had given him? It was still emitting some steam from the heat, but it should have turned cold by now. No, wait, maybe he had some technique to heat it?

Whatever, now wasn't the time to be distracted by such things.

"I'm trying to figure out what techniques I should pick. Any suggestions?" I asked. "Also, do you know where I can find techniques that help with scouting or stealth?"

The old man leaned over and hummed, "Even mortal-grade techniques that are related to scouting or stealth are rare. At least rare enough that you will never see such books on the first floor."

"Still, any suggestions?"

The old man shrugged, "That would be me holding your hand through this. Make your own choices. At least they will be your own mistakes. That's how you learn. The only advice I have for you is that you shouldn't choose something just because it has a cool name."

The old man took a sip of his tea and looked me in the eyes intensely with the wisdom he rarely showed, "Sometimes the enemy of a good choice is the expectation of a perfect one. There is never a perfect choice in life."

"Since I already know the Piercing Fang Fist, I was thinking of something that would complement it well. Elemental techniques are out of the question since I lack Qi, and they often counteract each other too much. So, I was considering something like the Rushing Bull Step, a technique where one kicks off the ground to move at incredible speed," I explained.

Among the myriad of options, none seemed as fitting for the Piercing Fang Fist as the Rushing Bull Step.

Liu Feng might have been somewhat naive about certain aspects of life, typical of his age. But he was also a diligent young man who had honed the Piercing Fang Fist to near perfection. Mastering another technique to the same level would require years of dedication. Thus, it seemed more practical to enhance the existing technique rather than starting from scratch.

Perhaps acquiring an Earth Grade technique could be worth the change, but for now, this was the best I could come up with. Additionally, the Rushing Bull Step lacked elemental vulnerabilities that plagued techniques like fire against water or wood against fire.

"A sound choice," the old man acknowledged, leafing through the martial manual's pages. "The only weakness is that it can only move in a straight line, which is a major weakness in case you want to escape or evade."

"I have an idea to cover that weakness," I replied confidently.

I needed an overwhelming offensive capability to compensate for my inexperience in combat and hunting beasts. It was the best path to survival, coupled with a defensive technique, it would be pretty useful unless confronted with a vast difference in skill and power.

"You seem to have gathered more than movement techniques here," the old man eyed the other books.

"Yeah, I was also trying to find some scouting and stealth techniques," I admitted, hoping for guidance.

"Well, teaching stealth techniques would be like training assassins. The Sect does not want its disciples killing each other, and scouting techniques are rare in itself. You usually need Qi to use them," he explained.

That complicated things a bit, but I couldn't help but smile.

The array of technique combinations seemed limitless and added excitement to the whole thing.

"At least you have techniques that seem simple enough, and would help you learn even when it comes time for you to get higher grade techniques," the old man muttered under his breath.

I sent him a curious look, "How?"

"Your movement martial art requires kicking, and your attack martial technique requires punching. Even at Earth Grade, while you might need to add Qi and move it a certain way, the basics still stand. Most movement techniques require kicking, and most fist techniques require punching. So it won't be like you'll be learning everything from scratch," the old man smiled.

Ah, that made sense.

"So I'm basically putting myself down a road with barely any knowledge," I sighed but still smiled.

This felt like choosing what I wanted to study in college. How could you expect to know what you wanted to do for the rest of your life when you have barely lived it?

"That's life, kid," the old man shrugged and returned to his duties.

I chuckled.

This really felt like college now.

If I wanted to change what I wanted in the future, it would be like changing professions, "Some things never change."

I took the Rushing Bull Step Technique manual and walked out of the library. The sky was red, and the sun looked ready to set.

But training in the cold nights never hurt anyone... Well, it did average people, but not cultivators.

The forest around the sect was still the best and most private place to train. So once I arrived there, I put the already-read book down and started using the technique written there.

I crouched down, closed my eyes, and concentrated on the thighs.

The book said a bunch of things with little meaning about how someone should concentrate all their strength on their thighs. So that was the only body part I focused on, and by the time I opened my eyes, my thighs had bulged up to almost twice their size.

"What the actual fuck?!" I released my hold on the ground and shot forward like an arrow.

The world around me blurred, and the air stung my eyes.

I put my arm up to cover my eyes, and the next thing I heard was the crunching sound of a tree breaking and the pain in my forearm.

I came to a skidding halt and looked at the trail behind me as I tried to stop myself.

There was a broken tree, and where I had kicked off from were two holes on the ground with cracks around it.

"Damn! This is amazing!"

Rushing Bull Step wasn't flashy compared to many other movement martial techniques, but it was useful and compatible with my other techniques.

"They call this not flashy?" I grinned.

I felt like a damn anime character, kicking off the ground and causing the earth below me to crack. Well, it didn't crack as the dirt had just shifted to make it look like that, but still!

It took a while for the excitement to die down, and when it did, the numbness on my thighs, the pain in my forearm I had bashed against the tree, and the tension in the joints behind my knees finally settled in.

Slumping to the ground, I massaged my thighs as they felt like I just had a horrifying leg day at the gym.

But despite the pain, this was exhilarating in some ways. This was the first time I had used the technique, and the more I did the more my body would get used to the movements and my muscles would grow to adapt to it. Meaning I would be able to grow stronger and faster!

I stared at the broken tree, "It almost looks like I punched through it like last time..."

Wait... what if?

Standing up once again, I brushed the dust off my clothes. The broken trees were a stark reminder of the first super-powered punch I had unleashed in this world. The tingling sensation and excitement still coursed through me whenever I recalled it.

Surrounded only by trees, I turned away from the shattered trunk and crouched, pulling my fist backward. Like a bullet, I shot forward, though the wind pressed against my eyelids like a pressurized hose. Closing my eyes, I gauged the distance between myself and the tree, initiating the Piercing Fang Fist.

My punch collided with the solid tree before I could fully extend my arm, a testament to the inherent challenge of estimating distance without sight. An explosion followed, accompanied by the crash of multiple trees. When I opened my eyes, a trail of destruction lay before me.

"Holy shit! Awesome!" I exclaimed.

"So this is what they meant by saying some techniques were compatible," I chuckled, attempting to suppress the mad cackle bubbling in my throat. The last thing I needed was for potential observers to think I was deranged.

Of course, I hadn't fully unleashed the potential of the Piercing Fang Fist. Imagine the power when that happened!

"I gotta try again!"

Crouching down, I face-planted into the ground, tasting grass. "Huh?"

As the excitement waned, the fatigue and muscle cramps from utilizing such a potent technique set in. The movement had sent my body into shock.

Despite the painful muscle cramps threatening to bring tears to my eyes, only one thought persisted: I couldn't attempt that technique combination again today.

Should I even bother returning to the dorms tonight? It was evident that no one cared. Even if I wanted to return, I doubted my legs could carry me.

With those considerations weighing on my mind, I slumped back and attempted to fall asleep on the grassy ground. The setting sun gave way to a starry sky.

Would there be a level of cultivation where one could reach the stars? Some said that cultivation was endless. Well, I wasn't going to find answers to such questions tonight.

The soft-cool wind brushed through my body, bringing a comfortable sensation as the grass beneath felt more inviting than any modern mattress. Sleep enveloped me effortlessly, a welcome respite from exhaustion.

Sometimes, exhaustion made sleep a wonderful experience.

It felt like the blink of an eye when sunlight gently kissed my face, rousing me from slumber. "Damn, I was too tired to even dream," I muttered groggily.

Standing up, I stretched, finding that yesterday's painful muscle cramps had faded into dull aches.

I also reeked of grass and needed a change of clothes. Fortunately, the sect provided a place for outer disciples to exchange their dirty or destroyed uniforms for fresh ones.

Should I return to the dorms like this? I needed a shower, but the hassle of bathing in this world involved lugging a large tub of water up the mountain to the shower rooms. It would be simpler to use one of the many ponds scattered around.

Moreover, I was finding excuses to return to training as soon as possible. Yesterday had been exhilarating, moving at such speeds. However, I needed to acclimate my eyes to the wind pressure first... one thing at a time.

Ensuring I had everything, including the book on the

Chapter 5 - I Like Turtles

"So you're still around here looking for some new techniques?" asked the librarian, a friendly smile gracing his face.

A week had passed since I learned the Rushing Bull Step. Despite that, I made it a habit to visit the library daily, pouring over texts and absorbing knowledge before my training sessions. While mastering many Mortal Grade techniques was a waste of time, reading about them didn't waste too much time and was my way of giving myself a break.

Who knows, maybe this knowledge about Mortal Grades techniques would be useful when fighting against someone who used them.

Progress with the Rushing Bull Step remained reasonable, as expected. Yet, the challenge of mastering it and devising countermeasures against its straightforwardness was exhilarating. However, I struggled with its backlash; I couldn't use it more than three times a day, and even that was pushing it as I no longer would be able to walk for a couple of hours.

Nonetheless, it was good training for my legs, and I wasn't complaining. Yet, unless I miraculously achieved an eight-star or nine-star Body Tempering, that limit wouldn't budge.

"I'm searching for a defensive technique. Something that shields against both external and internal shock," I stated. The librarian nodded, though he offered no further input.

I wasn't disheartened by his lack of engagement, as I was closer to the old janitor either way.

Some disciples cast odd glances my way while I conversed with the staff.

When I was courteous to the dining hall staff, they thought nothing of it, since they were mortals. In their eyes, I was no doubt a fool wasting time talking to the servants. But having a good relationship with the librarian was another matter altogether. The guy was essentially an elder in the sect who guarded many techniques. Many might try to leverage that relationship and get preferential treatment if they were in my place.

Hence, the old librarian was more approachable during off-peak hours, when fewer people were around and away from prying eyes.

"Look who the cat dragged in here," remarked the old janitor. He was suddenly beside me.

I glanced toward the front door. Nobody had come in a while.

How did the old guy slip in unnoticed? I hadn't seen him on the first floor or enter from the front door.

"Where did you come from?" I whispered.

If the old janitor harbored hidden monstrous cultivation, he was good at concealing it. He cared little about trivialities or sugarcoating words to placate him.

"Second floor," he replied nonchalantly, brandishing his ever-present broom. "Got to tidy up upstairs too."

The librarian chuckled discreetly, masking it as a cough to avoid drawing attention from the half-dozen disciples scattered throughout the library.

Why did it feel like I was the victim of some inside joke?

"By the way, why do you keep coming to the library so often? I haven't even seen you take any martial technique books with you," the old man inquired, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "It would be better to spend that time training or resting."

"How could I miss meeting my favorite old man? Training wouldn't feel the same without your daily rants about how everything I do is stupid," I replied with a grin. "Besides, who else would bring you your tea if I didn't come?"

"I'm old, not crippled. I can fetch my own tea," the old man grumbled, though his tone betrayed a hint of jest.

I knew he wasn't entirely serious. Despite his gruff exterior, he was surprisingly friendly.

"Also," the old man continued, "I thought by now you would have tried to read and learn every technique here, covering all bases and minuscule things. You seem like the kind of person who would attempt something like that."

"I can't deny the temptation to learn a ranged attack, just to cover all bases," I admitted.

Unfortunately, pre-Qi long-range attacks were rather ineffective, typically involving the use of a bow. While some techniques allowed for curved arrows, their practicality was limited. Arrows did little against opponents above six stars, and the time investment outweighed their usefulness.

"Good, it's wise to keep such impulses in check," the old sweeper remarked, taking a sip of tea.

Where did he get that cup? Hadn't he already finished the tea I brought earlier?

"Well, perhaps if I ever transcend to immortality beyond the Nascent Soul Realm and have all the time in the world, I'll return to learn every Mortal Grade Technique here," I mused, settling onto a nearby desk to read the defensive martial arts manuals I had gathered the previous week.

"An immortal learning Mortal Grade Techniques?" The old man chuckled, settling into a chair opposite mine and savoring his tea with continued amusement.

"If I had eternity at my disposal, I'd seclude myself from the outside world and explore, witness, and experience the supernatural wonders of these martial techniques," I shared my dreams before I got back into my reading.

I never thought about it before about how immortal life might suit me. How would someone even spend all that time? One thing I knew for sure was that I wasn't conquering worlds or anything like that. Well, it mattered little either way. That kind of realm was something I would never reach.

However, something was troubling. Despite spending considerable time, the books I had gathered contained none of the defensive techniques I wanted.

Perhaps I should make another attempt to scour the library for defensive martial arts?

The first floor had a vast collection, and there might be overlooked books holding the techniques I wanted. Since my current selections proved not that useful, it would be a good idea to give it one last look.

Amongst the books I had, the Iron Skin technique seemed the most promising option available. However, it wouldn't suffice for handling the internal shock from combining the Piercing Fang Fist and Rushing Bull Steps.

Could I even handle using three techniques simultaneously? Utilizing two already taxed me mentally and physically. Nonetheless, I might need to experiment or seek guidance from someone more knowledgeable.

Deciding to take a break from reading, I rose from my seat and strolled back toward the library shelves, enveloped in the comforting aroma of books.

Several disciples checked martial technique books, skimming through volumes before returning them to their places.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

As I traversed sections I had already examined, something caught my eye—a black book nestled in a corner, titled Turtle Shell Body.

Though its name lacked the flair of something like Thousand Stone Diamond Skin, practicality outweighed aesthetic appeal in my opinion.

However, something was bothering me.

Had this book been here all along?

I couldn't recall noticing it before. Due to my new body or maybe my cultivation, I had a keen memory. I surely would have noticed if the black book had been here before.

Could a disciple have returned it?

Regardless, I seized the book and began checking its contents.

Meanwhile, two other disciples whispered nearby, instantly putting me on edge.

I slid behind a shelf, feigning interest in the black book while discreetly eavesdropping on their discussion.

"We should be out there practicing," remarked one of them.

"Yeah, but we need a good technique. We got trounced last time," grumbled the other.

"We need a technique that will allow us to get stronger faster."

"I think we need a more catchy and flashy technique. Did you see that guy who lost but was still able to get noticed by the inner elder? Even though he lost he was still able to enter the inner sect. He had eye-catching techniques."

"That's just bullshit. I heard that the guy bribed one of the inner elders."

Okay, so they weren't discussing ambushing me. It would be odd if they did, considering I didn't know them. Yet, in this Xianxia world, some young masters made the spoiled rich kids from my previous world seem like Mother Teresa.

"I don't care about any of that. We need something that will get us strong fast!" insisted one of them, prompting me to tune out and refocus on my agenda.

The only potential issue I had was their sole focus on the power their martial techniques provided. They took them for granted without questioning their significance. Even the simplest techniques held supernatural potential to some extent. However, I wasn't here to impose my perspectives on others. They likely wouldn't adopt my viewpoint anyway.

The Turtle Shell Body Technique's description hinted at a permanent defense boost, aligning perfectly with my current needs.

Fate had smiled on me today to stumble on something like this. Sure, it was no cheat like a protagonist might stumble in every market around the corner. But it was neat!

I had to test it right now!

Returning to the librarian, I presented the book. "I'll be taking this outside to train with it."

The librarian narrowed his eyes at the book, worrying me for a second. But he eventually nodded and replied, "Good luck. Disciples may take one book from the first floor to learn a technique contained within."

Everyone knew that rule, so why did he phrase it so pointedly?

Shrugging off my needless curiosity, I exited the library, excited to unravel the secrets of the new technique.

*******

Xin Ma removed his glasses, observing the young boy's departure. He polished the lenses, his gaze shifting toward the goat-bearded old "janitor" Shan Sha, a frown etching his features.

He felt tempted to confront Shan Sha immediately, yet he restrained his emotions. Several disciples still lingered in the library.

Hours slipped by, the sun dipping toward the horizon. The library emptied, with Shan Sha only ascending upstairs for tea refills.

"How did a book from the second floor end up here?" Xin Ma inquired calmly.

"What are you talking about?" Shan Sha feigned innocence, his fingers grazing his goat-like beard.

"I saw the book the kid had. That's not something from the first floor. Do you take me for a fool, old friend?" Xin Ma pressed. "What you've done violates the library's codes I oversee. Why jeopardize our friendship like this?"

Shan Sha met his gaze, embodying the stubbornness often associated with his moniker, Goat Geezer. "I'm just an old man who sometimes misplaces things."

"You misplaced something an entire floor down?" Xin Ma raised a skeptical brow. "You're only permitted to fetch tea from the second floor. You weren't authorized to handle the books."

No ordinary servant would have access to items on the second floor without explicit consent. While Shan Sha's demeanor was cantankerous, he had always been trustworthy and had never acted out in this manner before.

Yet, Shan Sha's actions endangered his life.

There was little they could do about the youngster, as instances of disciples discovering martial manuals not belonging on the first floor weren't uncommon. Disciples were permitted to learn techniques from these books before they were returned to the second floor. Such rules governed the discovery of materials by disciples.

However, Shan Sha would face severe consequences if his transgression came to light.

"If the Judgment Hall decrees death as my punishment, so be it. I have only a few years left at best," Shan Sha declared, effectively acknowledging his wrongdoing.

Xin Ma replaced his glasses. "I won't disclose this in light of our longstanding friendship. But understand that it strains our relationship. Should you repeat this offense, I'll personally advocate for the maximum penalty from the Judgment Hall."

"Thank the ancestors! This turned out better than I feared. I don't want to die just yet," the old man breathed a sigh of relief, sinking back into his chair.

It appeared his bravery earlier had been more facade than substance.

"Also, just to clarify, I left the book for the kid to stumble upon. I never explicitly handed it to him. If he hadn't noticed it, I wouldn't have pointed it out. The book would've remained there for someone else to find," the old man explained.

"Ah, yes. Concealing the book in the section where we house most of the Mortal Grade defensive techniques. But you're assuming the youngster, who we know meticulously covers all his bases and isn't swayed by flashy names, would miss it," Xin Ma sighed. "Let's be honest, you practically served that martial technique book to him on a silver platter. You knew he'd find it."

The old man shrugged, showing little inclination to dispute the accusation. "It'll give him a headstart against those born into more favorable circumstances. He's a good kid, and it'd be a shame to see him fall behind just because he lacks the Blazing Sun Sect's lineage."

"He has his own clan, don't forget that. He's not some resource-poor mortal," Xin Ma reminded.

"Yes, but I chose to assist him regardless," the old man sipped his tea. "Just think of this as a lucky encounter for the kid."

"Except there was no luck involved," the librarian interjected.

Shan Sha shrugged once more, taking another sip of tea. Xin Ma couldn't help but sigh.

It seemed the kid had won over his old friend simply by bringing him tea, despite there being free tea refills on the second floor.

No wonder someone like Shan Sha hadn't progressed far in cultivation. He was too driven by emotion in Xin Ma's estimation. Yet, that was also why he enjoyed the old Shan Sha's company and would forgive him for this lapse. Few cultivators were as genuine as Shan Sha.

********

I stood atop a boulder in the forest, engrossed in the intricacies of my newfound defensive technique.

How had such a remarkable technique ended up on the first floor? It felt like a stroke of luck, the first time I could genuinely call myself fortunate in both of my lives.

It was akin to hitting the jackpot!

Despite being a mortal-grade technique, Turtle Shell Body far surpassed those typically found on the first floor. It was a passive martial technique designed to gradually enhance the body's defensive capabilities, addressing a significant issue I faced. I struggled with using three techniques simultaneously, a feat made difficult by the Rushing Bull Steps and Piercing Fang Fist combination. However, Turtle Shell Body was a passive technique that would permanently increase my body's durability, promising to mitigate the strain and damage to my legs after each use of Rushing Bull Steps and Piercing Fang Fist once mastered.

Yet, there was one peculiar requirement for practicing this technique.

"I need to get a turtle."

However, turtles were not commonly sold in the Sect's Market. There might be Monstrous Beast parts, pills, and other things I didn't need. For the first time since maybe ever, it was inconvenient the Sect's market only sold cultivation-related things.

Moreover, finding a turtle within the Sect's grounds presented its own challenges, as most animals had been purged out of fear they might evolve into Monstrous Beasts.

With this realization, the next step in my plans became clear.

I had to travel to a nearby mortal town and buy a turtle.