Cultivation Nerd: Chapter 16 (Patreon)

Chapter 16 - Prison Mike

"We had a brief confrontation before I made a run for it. When the guy slashed my arm, I froze a bit in shock. Then, he aimed for my neck again, but I managed to dodge, only to be caught off guard by a surprise attack to the ribs," I scratched the back of my head nervously and offered a strained smile. "Honestly, I don't remember the exact details of what happened after that. It's all a blur like I could sense my opponent's bloodlust lingering in the air as I escaped.”

"Well, I'm not here to pass judgment on whether running away is good or bad," the old woman shrugged. "And there's no need to be so nervous. You're just a Body Tempering outer disciple. Nobody suspects you or anyone else at your level of being involved in this mess."

Yeah, that made sense. But the old lady gave me a scare for a second there. Thankfully, it seemed she wasn't too invested in this investigation, and her questions lacked enthusiasm.

Or did they? For all I knew, everything she had done until now might have been to put me at ease. I couldn't afford to let my guard down. She was a dangerous woman who would pick up on any inconsistencies in my story. The best I could manage was to offer her some half-truths, wording my responses so that if there were any means to detect falsehoods, my words would technically hold true.

It sounded much simpler than it was, considering I had to concoct responses on the fly.

As far as I knew, I was the only survivor of that incident, and if I outed myself now I would have to get involved. There was no other way around it, and depending on who that young girl who had tried to kill me was and who eliminated all the other people who were observing. It had to be a group of people covering things up, and they had a list of people to take care of, and who knew where I sat in that hierarchy.

While the Blazing Sun Sect would protect me to a certain degree, there was a limit to where the costs would outweigh the benefits of protection. Then, they would likely throw me to the wolves.

She continued probing me with miscellaneous questions about my activities outside the sect. I mostly stuck to the truth, mentioning my visit to the Greengrass Town market and the purchase of the turtle, conveniently omitting the encounter with the three bandits and replacing it with an altercation with someone else, which accounted for my injuries.

The story contained enough truth that I could recall the details; if anyone decided to investigate, they wouldn't find anything incriminating.

The three bandit brothers were my only vulnerability. Though they were likely victims of the explosion, given its proximity to their village.  I hoped the villagers had managed to escape despite the weakness it might pose to my case. They were decent folk.

Either way, even if they miraculously survived, they couldn't provide a detailed description of me. My face had a lot of average features. Dark hair, dark eyes, and somewhat pale skin, that described most of the cultivators out there.

"Well, that concludes our session. I may return with more questions, perhaps the same ones, perhaps not," she announced, rising from her seat with a sour expression as if she'd prefer eating a raw lemon to this task. "Honestly, the sect leader places too much trust in that paranoid old coot."

It was ironic that she was calling someone old, but I held my tongue and bowed respectfully toward the elder woman. "Thank you for your time, honorable elder."

"Don't mention it, brat," she waved off my gratitude. "I'll attempt to persuade the sect leader to abandon this foolishness. So you can return to focusing on your martial arts. And I'll ensure you're all compensated for the time wasted here by that old fool. What did he hope to achieve by imprisoning over a hundred kids?"

She was surprisingly amicable. Or perhaps she was playing the good cop to coax me into lowering my guard.

As she exited, the door screeched loudly behind her, and I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Relief washed over me.

I was still curious and wanted to inquire about the whole incident, but I bit back my questions. After all, the prison had our silence arrays, preventing even the prisoners from discussing what had occurred.

Prison life wasn't terrible; meals were delivered, and I had ample time to train and only train.

Though, I did miss the old man's company and his snarky remarks.

"Welp, little buddy. Time to get back to training," I scratched Speedy's head and resumed my meditation where I had left off.

…

Three days passed—or at least I believed they did, judging by the nine meals I'd received. It was challenging to gauge time without sunlight.

Despite the circumstances, I had grown somewhat accustomed to prison life. There were no complicated schedules, and no curfews to abide by. I didn’t fret over meetings, readings, or conversations. I simply woke up, ate, trained, and slept.

Occasionally, the old lady would drop by, feigning interest as she posed her questions. Her disdain for the situation couldn't have been clearer; she was vehemently opposed to it. From what I noticed, it seemed like her granddaughter was also entangled in this mess too.

Today unfolded much like the previous ones. Upon waking, I felt rejuvenated and brimming with energy, ready to embark on another grueling training session until my arms threatened to detach. However, I deviated from the routine today, opting to assess my progress.

After a series of swift tests, I recorded my stats in my trusty notebook, crossing out the previous entries.

Name: Liu Feng

Age: 16

Talent: C (fifty-three spirit root branches)

Cultivation: Body Tempering (seven-star)

Strength – 7.5 → 7.7

Agility – 7.2 →  7.5

Endurance – 7.4 → 7.9

Qi – 0

Techniques:

-Piercing Fang Fist (Mortal Grade)

-Rushing Bull Step (Mortal Grade)

-Turtle Shell Body (Mortal Grade)

My Endurance had soared, evident in the lengthy duration it took for the Turtle Shell Body technique to induce fatigue and discomfort nowadays. Previously, I'd feel the strain almost instantly; now, it would take hours.

Still, according to my calculations, achieving an eight in endurance should propel me to eight-star Body Tempering.

I felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. While a one-star improvement might appear insignificant, it marked a minor bottleneck that many struggled to overcome. Liu Feng had relied on body-strengthening pills to forcibly advance from six-star to seven-star Body Tempering. Even then, the breakthrough had been arduous and painful, requiring multiple attempts.

Yet, despite it all, a surge of excitement coursed through me at the prospect of experiencing a breakthrough to the next level. While I had Liu Feng’s memories of such an event, undergoing it myself was a wholly different sensation, and I could not wait for it!

Lost in my daydreams of advancement, the door to my cell creaked open, and I scarcely needed to glance to determine the visitor's identity. By now, the familiar sound of the old lady's walking stick tapping against the ground had become second nature.

"Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself," she remarked.

The fact that she could observe me training and going about my routine was unsettling. It amounted to a gross invasion of privacy, but this is the realm of xianxia, so there was no use whining about it. Even if I did, who would even bother to listen?

"I'd be having even more fun if I had enough space to practice the Rushing Bull Step Technique," I reminisced.

She leaned her cane against the doorframe, and two tea cups appeared in her hands with a flick of her wrist. "I learned during the investigation that you enjoy sharing tea with the old janitor."

"Yes."

"Don't look so uncomfortable; it kills the mood," she chided gently, sipping from her cup before offering me the other. "By the way, your frequent interactions with the old janitor essentially clear you of suspicion. He's been around for quite some time, and his integrity is well-known."

Her words lifted my spirits, prompting a grateful smile as I accepted the tea. "Thank you."

"Anyway, about this Rushing Bull Step technique and your desire to train it more... Why exactly can't you practice it here?"

"Well, this space is confined, and the technique involves kicking off the ground and charging forward blindly. I can't exactly halt mid-motion, and the technique only allows forward movement."

She arched a skeptical brow, regarding me as though I had uttered the most absurd statement. "So what?"

"So... what?" I echoed, equally puzzled.

The corner of her lips curled upward. "If your technique is direct and would result in you crashing into a wall, then master it until that's no longer the case. Every technique's weaknesses can be overcome with mastery!"

What she said was very basic, yet its simplicity held profound wisdom. After all, while techniques could be learned, true mastery allowed for personal imprint and refinement.

"Also, don't fret about breaking the stone," she chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.

Okay, that laugh was a tad unsettling.

"You'd break your face and every bone in your body before the wall even registers a hit. This stone wall was built to withstand forces far greater than you, brat."

At that moment, everything clicked into place. It was a eureka moment for me!

"May I begin training now?" I inquired.

"Go ahead," she shrugged. "Chair!" she called out, and an inner disciple promptly brought in a chair before departing once she was seated. "There's no use questioning you further. Nobody suspects you anyway. You're mostly here because certain inner elders would complain if their sons remained confined while you walked free. But don't worry, the longer you stay, the more that paranoid bastard will have to pay in reparations."

I only half-listened to her words, focusing instead on crouching and setting aside the teacup. In an instant, I launched myself off the ground, activating Rushing Bull Step. Suddenly, within the confines of the room, new ideas began to flow.

Control it! Control the power! I mentally urged myself as I felt my thighs swell, though not as much as usual.

First and foremost, I realized I didn't always have to employ Rushing Bull Step at full force. Furthermore, I discovered that I could manipulate my movements within the technique, allowing for strategic positioning. With each landing against the wall and subsequent rebound, my speed increased.

The old granny waited patiently until I finally grew fatigued, offering only a nonchalant hum when I ceased. Thankfully, my legs didn't ache more than they would from a brief run. The Turtle Shell Body was perfect for what I had lacked.

"Since I'm not free, may I inquire about what's happening outside?" I asked, retrieving the tea I had set aside. Its flavor mirrored the tea I often enjoyed with the old janitor.

"Well, a Spring of Power was discovered near Greengrass Town, and someone managed to steal it right from under our noses. There's now a hunt for the thief," she explained, her expression clouding with disapproval. "At least that bastard's nephew didn't get his hands on it."

The notion of someone stealing from a prestigious sect like ours sounded straight out of xianxia protagonist material. Stealing such a valuable resource that sects invested considerable effort to obtain required exceptional skill and audacity. Even when rival sects were involved, such resources were safeguarded with utmost vigilance, given their critical importance in cultivation.

Stealing something of that magnitude was akin to making a horde of enemies, each eager to exact revenge.

I often joked about the tropes of xianxia protagonists. But this situation really resembled one—a character who stole from dangerous sects and formidable adversaries, only to find his own clan targeted once his adversaries couldn't apprehend him. Some were hypocritical enough to decry their enemies as dishonorable scum for such acts, conveniently ignoring their own similar tactics.

Did actually something as ridiculous as someone favored by the heavens exist?