Cultivation Nerd

The first order of business after parting ways with the guard was to purchase a new set of clothes and change into them. Wearing the Blazing Sun Sect uniform attracted undue attention, which I preferred to avoid for what I planned next.

Since I found myself in the city, there were certain matters I wished to attend to. There was little chance I would take the unnecessary risk in the near future to travel out of the security of the sect.

Moreover, there was something I had contemplated at the back of my mind. I wanted to do my own research into things rather than read it from books. Books only taught someone so much.

Research thrived on data, and if I could get my hands on it, it would satiate my curiosity with the added benefit of helping me with cultivation.

For instance, what was my true strength? I knew I had the strength of a seven-star Body Tempering cultivator, but how did that translate into actual numbers? How much stronger was I than the average individual?

Setting up a rug on a sparsely populated merchant street, I called out, "Step right up! One copper coin for each man who dares to strike the palm of my hand. A single punch, and you can go about your business."

Some regarded me with curiosity, while others dismissed it as mere spectacle but lingered to witness the outcome. It didn't take long for the first challenger to emerge—a taller-than-average man bearing a distinctive scar across his forehead.

"So, a punch to your palm earns me a copper coin?" he inquired.

"Indeed, give it your all," I replied, extending my palm.

Without hesitation, he drew back his fist and delivered an aggressive blow. Yet, upon impact, his strike abruptly halted, leaving him visibly perplexed.

"Y-You," he stammered, his complexion paling. "Are you a cultivator?"

"No," I countered with a friendly smile. "However, in my youth, I chanced upon a Mortal Grade martial manual—a worthless technique known as the Steady Palm Art. It serves only to block punches, and even then, my lack of cultivation prevents me from fully mastering it. Hence, I've pursued a path of research, and this experiment is part of it."

He appeared wary but accepted his payment as I flicked a copper coin toward him.

Following this public display, a steady stream of participants approached, each eager to test their strength. After dozens had taken their turn, I folded the carpet and departed.

While some onlookers seemed tempted to follow me, I swiftly navigated toward an alley, increasing my pace. Should anyone attempt pursuit, they would have a hard time keeping up with me. I had already ascended to the rooftop by the time the first observer peered around the corner.

I soared through the air, propelled by the sheer force of my momentum as I leaped from one rooftop to the next. The wind whispered against my skin, a gentle caress that danced with the strands of my hair, imbuing each leap with a sense of fluid grace. With every angle, I felt the world fall away, a weightless sensation enveloping me in exhilaration.

As I picked up speed, the rooftops blurred into a mosaic of shadow and light, a silent witness to the bustling life below. Eventually, my airborne journey led me to a dimly lit alley, where the remnants of broken walls and abandoned buildings mingled with the garbage.

I scrunched my nose as the air hung heavy with the smell of decay.

Amongst the discarded trash, feline creatures prowled, their eyes gleaming like embers amidst the darkness. The cats moved gracefully, traversing the slumps of garbage while keeping their eyes on me. As if assessing if I was a threat.

Setting the carpet upon the ground, I shed my clothes, reverting to the familiar garb of the Blazing Sun Sect gray cloth uniform. With a sense of purpose, I hurried toward the gates, intent on leaving before drawing undue attention. However, upon reaching the gates, Mao Zhi, the guard who had accompanied me earlier, was absent.

He should have already been here by now. Maybe he took my advice to heart and took a break?

"Excuse me, but where is Mao Zhi? We parted ways in the city. Did his shift already end?" I inquired, noting the discomfort in the guards' expressions.

It had taken Mao Zhi some time to adjust to my presence. Which was understandable, given my outsider status. But, I had no desire to cultivate an air of mystique.

In my experience, genuine camaraderie was often better than formal authority. People would have an easier time telling something to a friend than their boss.

"Honorable Cultivator," one of the guards approached, bowing respectfully, with his comrades following suit. "Mao Zhi is chasing some thug that broke the town's laws."

"Is he chasing anyone dangerous?" I inquired, considering offering assistance to my newfound friend, Mao Zhi. If the threat was manageable for a guard, it would likely pose little challenge to a cultivator.

"No, he was just chasing some crazy homeless guy who talks to himself," the guard explained.

"In that case, I shall take my leave and leave you to your duties. Have a nice day," I bid them farewell and strode out of the town gates, ignoring the lingering stares that trailed my departure.

The lush fields beyond the town stretched wide, living up to its name as Greengrass Town. I strolled leisurely, absorbing the tranquil scenery and relishing the purity of the air.

Once sufficiently distanced from prying eyes, I settled onto the grass. The blue sky stretched like a vast blue canvas. While the day looked good to have a leisurely picnic, duty called, and I could not afford to stay here any longer.

Retrieving the small turtle from my pocket, I gently placed it on the ground.

"Stretch your legs a bit and enjoy the fields, Speedy. Just make sure not to walk too far away," I advised, allowing the creature a moment of freedom amidst the tranquil landscape.

Turtles made excellent pets. They didn't wander off, had a long lifespan, and conveniently fit into pockets.

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Taking out a couple of berries I had gotten from the merchant after he sold me the turtle, I gave them to my newfound companion. Speedy devoured the treats with gusto, even attempting to nip at my finger in his enthusiasm.

Indeed, turtles were easy to care for, given their diet of easily accessible foods like various fruits and vegetables.

While dogs might be hailed as man's best friends, turtles were the best pets.

Okay, I was making shit up here. But I already felt a connection with Speedy.

Leaving him to his explorations, I retrieved two notebooks—one dedicated to my insights on cultivation, and the other was blank, freshly procured from the town.

Following the town's experiment, I gleaned a rough estimate of the average human's capabilities, a vital metric for comparison.

Initiating my observations, I recorded the quantifier "one," representing the average human capacity in something, serving as a benchmark for future evaluations.

Putting the notebook down, I tested my strength and punched my palm with pure power and no technique. Just like I had the men in the town attack.

I struck my palm a dozen times with full power to get a rough estimate of my pure strength. Which left a red mark on my left palm from how many times I had hit it. After that, I did some other tests with speed, flexibility, and stamina.

Despite a cultivator's excellent control over their bodies and all the tests I had done, there was still a minor margin of error.

With meticulous detail, I documented every aspect gleaned from my observations, including my own status:

Name: Liu Feng

Age: 16

Talent: C (fifty-three spirit root branches)

Cultivation: Body Tempering (seven-star)

Strength – 7.5

Agility – 7.2

Endurance – 7.1

Qi – 0

Techniques:

-Piercing Fang Fist (Mortal Grade)

-Rushing Bull Step (Mortal Grade)

It was like my own status page, a record of my progress. If I ever wanted to check my progress, I could write down the rough differences and read the progress with my own eyes.

"My Walmart version of a gamer's status page," I muttered.

However, it would be a bit annoying since I would have to manually measure the changes instead of just calling out; 'status page'.

As the hours waned and the stars illuminated the night sky, I wrote down everything I had learned in my recent journey. It might not be any ground-breaking knowledge, but it was a start.

Speedy clambered onto my shoulder, determined to engage in his favorite pastime: nibbling on my ear. Despite his efforts, my resilient skin thwarted his attempts.

"One day, Speedy, we'll be best friends," I mused aloud.

Hearing his name, Speedy tried chewing on my ear even harder. Which was ticklish. Hopefully, the little guy wouldn't hurt his jaw trying to bite too hard.

He reminded me of my cat in my previous life, the guy didn’t like anyone getting closer to him. But eventually he would get comfortable with me.

After a leisurely stroll, Speedy eventually grew tired after nibbling my ear and succumbed to slumber.

In the peaceful night, the only sounds were the chorus of crickets and the gentle rustling of leaves.

A part of me entertained the idea of setting up camp and getting some training done. But the risk of exhausting myself in this wilderness was a problem.

Despite my battle against the temptation of training, there was an undeniable tranquility in walking through a forest at night. Enveloped by the starlit expanse and breathing crisp air.

Any fear of the dark was gone at the thought of how I could crush a tree with one punch.

Yet, after roughly thirty minutes of reclusive strolling, the silence shattered with the telltale shuffle of bushes.

My instincts immediately flared, and I debated reaching for a rock, prepared for whatever might come out.

"You can come out now," I called out. It could be just an animal or simply the wind. But if I was wrong there was no one to see my embarrassment.

The bushes parted to reveal a man brandishing a bow, his gaze fixated upon me with a poised arrow. His disheveled appearance—tousled hair, earth-stained nails, and a scar adorning his lip—hinted at a rugged life, more akin to a farmer than a warrior. Yet, appearances were often very deceiving.

"Drop your belongings and walk off," a commanding voice resonated from behind a nearby tree, unveiling a towering figure wielding an ax. Another assailant emerged, armed with a spear, ready for a fight.

This was the eureka moment where I realized how much I needed any form of scouting technique. If non-cultivators could evade my detection, I stood at a huge disadvantage against other cultivators.

What if a cultivator decided to ambush me? I had to keep an eye out for an ambush in the future.

Contemplating their motives, I weighed the possibility of them being cultivators. However, that was unlikely as they didn’t recognize my uniform. Nevertheless, this was an opportunity to test my techniques on live targets—no one would miss some bandits disappearing into the night.

*******

Tufei was a farmer from a nearby village rarely visited by outsiders. Despite what they were doing, he didn't consider himself a bandit. But his actions proved otherwise.

He aimed his bow at the seemingly defenseless man, his heart racing amidst the chilling sensation of cold sweat trickling down his back.

Unsettling unease gnawed at Tufei's gut despite how they had cornered the young man. It felt as though they were gazing into the eyes of a dangerous beast, and they had just put their hands in its mouth.

Glancing at his second brother, who had the ax in hand, Tufei voiced his concerns. "Futou, something feels off about this man. He doesn't look bothered by any of this. What if he's one of those cultivators?"

Even under the threat of their weapons, the "victim" kept an air of amusement, akin to a child toying with insects in their front yard.

"Cultivators go around by flying on swords, not walking around like common mortals. Everyone knows that!" Oftu interjected, his apprehension apparent despite his words as he tightened the grip on his spear until his fingers turned white.

Indeed, they had seen cultivators fly over their village while standing on swords. Said cultivators were once revered as deities until a merchant visited and proved to them that cultivators were no deities.

Despite Oftu's assertion, a sense of fear lingered, manifesting in tightened grips and wary gazes.

Only Futou exuded unwavering confidence, bordering on recklessness, as he dismissed their uncertainties. He looked ready to swing his ax. But this was how Futou had always been.

Their goal was simple—rob some rich guy and then return home to provide for their mother. Since the merchants rarely came by their village, they knew little about the world around them. Tufei was nervous in more ways than one because of that.

"The guy is just acting calm. He is obviously bluffing!" Futou's determination wavered between conviction and self-assurance, his resolve evident in clenched teeth and furrowed brows. "He thinks we are just a group of village hicks who know nothing!"

Well, they were village hicks, Tufei thought. However, maybe his brother was right. Always being too careful was one of his weak points. Despite the poor situation in the village, Tufei was the one who had been too afraid to come out and try banditry.

"Screw this!" Futou's frustration erupted into action, his ax cleaving through the air in a wild arc aimed at the man they were trying to rob.