Cultivation Nerd-Chapter 331 - A Literary Problem

A couple of weeks after my birthday, I found myself once more at the dinner table, savoring the flavors of one of Fu Yating’s exquisitely prepared meals. The warm aroma of simmered spices lingered in the air, weaving with the faint crackle of oil from the kitchen, while the glow of lamplight softened the edges of the room.

Each bite tasted like the comfort of home. It was just that good.

Song Song hadn’t been seen in days; as the inner elder charged with overseeing matters of war, her duties allowed her no space for idleness.

With Zun Gon’s death, the convenient shield he had provided was gone, and the elders could no longer rely on him to carry their burdens. Each was now compelled to shoulder the weight of their own responsibilities.

Thankfully, I didn't have many responsibilities to begin with. So I could still live essentially within my whims, and nobody forced me to do anything.

Though even I hadn't escaped the somber atmosphere that hung heavily over the sect, pressing down like an unspoken weight.

The elders wore masks of calm that betrayed none of their unease, yet the tension was unmistakable. Behind their composed facades, schemes ripened in silence, subtle glances and hushed conversations hinting at shifting allegiances. With the specter of war looming ever closer, more than a few had already begun maneuvering so they didn't end up in a coffin soon.

As I sat there, turning over the balance of power in my head and wondering who might step up to act as a pseudo sect leader, the alarm arrays around the library stirred.

Something, or someone, was trying to enter.

I extended my senses, narrowing my focus on the library. Nothing. Whoever it was, they had a technique or artifact masking their Qi signature.

Troublesome. That meant an elder at a minimum. Foundation Establishment or higher.

Who was reckless enough to try something like this? No matter how long-lived cultivators were, some still chose the nuclear option when cornered.

Maybe it was just the times: one disaster after another, panic settling into the bones. Or perhaps someone thought I would be an easy mark.

“I’m going out to handle something,” I told Fu Yating, standing up.

Her frown deepened. “Anything dangerous?”

“No. Just another day of taking my work seriously,” I sighed.

She wasn’t a cultivator, so she couldn’t sense the brief flickers of Qi as the library’s protective array shifted. But it was only a matter of time before others noticed. If I ignored it, the sect would hound the intruders down anyway, but it wouldn’t reflect well on me.

“You stay here,” I told her, about to add further instructions when the kitchen door opened.

Wu Yan stepped in. She must have sensed the disturbance too, and combined with my rising from the table, it wasn’t hard for her to connect the dots.

Pride flickered in my chest. Sensing Qi had once been one of her weakest points.

“Do you need help?” Wu Yan asked.

“No,” I answered without hesitation. Her combat strength still wasn’t at an adequate level, and this was not a desperate enough situation where I could risk Wu Yan's well-being.

“I’m also a Foundation Establishment cultivator now,” she countered, meeting my gaze head-on. “And my cultivation is higher than yours–”

Before Wu Yan could argue further, I activated my foundation technique. Electrical signals fired through my mind at light speed.

Crouching, I layered it with my Earth Grade technique, Galloping Horse Power. In this slowed-down state, I could micromanage every thread of Qi in my body with surgical precision.

A half-horse afterimage formed behind me, giving me the silhouette of a centaur.

My technique had hit a trace. I hadn't landed one of those in a while.

But with my foundation technique steadying me, I still had complete control of the sudden burst of speed.

Wu Yan’s eyes remained locked on where I’d stood, as the difference in reaction speed was overwhelming. So I moved behind her and gently touched the back of her head.

Then I released the technique, and the world snapped back into motion.

Her eyes widened. She froze, caught by the simple gesture. Now she knew that if I were an enemy, she would have died by now, never knowing what had even killed her. Her fighting powers for her stage were below average by a prominent sect's standards.

“Wha–”

“If someone asked me who I thought was the most talented person alive today, who do you think I’d say?” I asked. Before she could respond, I answered for her. “It would be you. And there’s quite a distance between you and second place.”

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Ye An was gifted too, but burdened by flaws Wu Yan and I had already worked past. The icy girl had to constantly restrain herself just to avoid exploding. It wasn’t even close.

“But potential means nothing if you die young,” I reminded her, pulling my hand back. “The number of geniuses born to dominate the world, only to fall too early, is countless. I have no doubt you’ll surpass me one day. But that day isn’t here yet.”

Wu Yan nodded absently, her expression unreadable.

I smiled, "Put up with me being overbearing a bit longer, and then you can order me around later."

"That's not what I meant. I would never do that!" She stared at the ground, too ashamed to meet my eyes. "This... I just want to help. Even though I finally surpassed you in cultivation, and thought I could at least stand by your side, it feels like the distance between us hasn't closed at all."

"Don't rush it yet. Your stage isn't at some small-time fight between some Foundation Establishment cultivators," I reassured her.

Normally, I might have tried to soften the moment, to comfort her. But if anything happened to me, she had to be strong enough to stand on her own.

It was difficult raising someone and trying to be protective of them, while at the same time making sure they could stand on their own.

“You can stay here and protect Fu Yating,” I told Wu Yan. "This is no big deal for me."

My fiancée didn’t have the strength, but she was someone I could trust not to fall for others' schemes so easily.

“Of course, nothing’s going to happen,” I added quickly. “But I need to check, to be cautious.”

Wu Yan lingered in silence, her thoughts hidden behind a mask I couldn’t read, as I slipped out into the night.

The courtyard lay hushed, every stone and shadow soaked in the pale glow of the full moon. Its light poured over me like molten silver, as though the heavens themselves were watching. I drew a paper-thin barrier tight around my body, the air trembling faintly in response, and with a sudden burst I shot forward like an arrow cutting across the sect grounds, racing toward the library.

For a moment, I considered handing Fu Yating the silver sword. From my research, it was more than just a key. But I hadn't learned all its functions yet.

I doubted Jiang Yeming had understood what she was passing me when she handed it over.

But no. The sword was tricky to use. Safer to keep it with me.

When I arrived at the library, the monotony of daily life evaporated.

Seven figures in dark robes hunched around the barrier, prodding it with their fingers and pressing their palms against the translucent wall. They looked like caricatures of villains, cloaked and faceless. One whispered something under his breath, and disturbingly, I couldn’t hear it even with my sharpened senses.

Their robes masked not only their bodies but their Qi. Likely artifacts. Effective ones.

Were they actually trying to break the barrier? Or had they set a trap, waiting for me to arrive and foolishly open it for them?

I slipped a token from the hidden pocket in my inner robe. A silver coin, marked with a cross on one side and its inverse on the other.

With a squeeze, the metal buckled and shattered into pieces. The signal would reach Song Song. Per our plan, she’d first secure the house against any ambush, then check on me.

Meanwhile, two of the intruders suddenly lashed out. Their fists blurred into afterimages, striking the barrier in a storm of phantom arms like wrathful Ashura.

But this was a Level 6 barrier crafted by my teacher. Their blows barely stirred it.

Then another elder stepped forward, pressing his hand against the surface. The barrier rippled, trembling like silk caught in the wind. For an instant, it seemed to shudder under his touch.

Almost convincing.

But the wall itself hadn’t budged at all. His element was making the barrier ripple like water.

Clever, but not enough to break through a defense like this.

What kind of element was that? Ripple? Waves? Technically weak, but in the right hands, even fragile things could become scalpels sharp enough to cut steel. I filed it away under dangerous unknown.

A third elder advanced, clapping his hands together. Qi boiled behind him, hardening into bone-white form. A towering skeleton rose from the ground, its upper body the size of a house. It loomed like a war-god, joints creaking as it moved.

With a guttural command, he sent it crashing down upon the barrier.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Each strike echoed like a drumbeat, rattling the ground and filling the air with jagged vibration.

The barrier didn’t so much as crack. It stood unmoved, swallowing the force in silence, like a wall between worlds.

Which, technically, it was. Anchored with space manipulation techniques I only half-understood theoretically, but enough to know this: they weren’t getting in.

The only result of those car-sized bone fists was noise like hollow thunder and the quick, frustrated tightening of one elder’s jaw.

This changed everything. The odds that anyone with that strength had slipped in from outside were negligible. My teacher’s sect arrays were uniformly Level Seven; he took a jealous pride in them. If they weren’t tripped, the intruders had to be from within. Deserters.

Should I try a sneak attack? Seven against one, and most of them probably outclassed me in Foundation Establishment. But I decided against it, and dropped from my hiding place, and the seven turned as one.

Moonlight sharpened their features. Up close, I recognized a couple of faces, some elders who’d backed me when I’d been the poster boy for succession. They regarded me with cold, practiced eyes.

I walked forward slowly, hands folded behind my back, the square ruby control tablet tucked beneath my sleeve. I cleared my throat and smiled, an absurdly bright thing in that ruined scene.

“Sorry, seniors, but visiting hours are only during the day, and if you want to borrow a book, then you can come tomorrow morning.”

No one was in a mood for theatrics. One elder lunged; snakes slithered from the shadows at the cuffs of his robe and shot toward me. I moved to leap back, but his gaze triggered a strange Qi fluctuation and my body froze just for an instant.

They were using a paralysis weave. I felt control return almost immediately, but not before the snakes had coiled around me, hissing with fangs dripping with venom, poised to strike. Their teeth halted an inch from my skin, skittering across the skin-tight jade barrier I wore like armor.

Snake element. A familiar signature of elders who favored poison and alchemy. I filed the detail away even as the bone avatar behind another attacker pivoted and raised its massive fist.

“Ganging up on me like this feels quite unfair,” I said.

The snake elder met my eyes again, and the paralysis bit deeper. I felt my muscles lock; the world narrowed to the drum of blood in my ears and the shadow of the bone giant swinging down like a war-hammer.