The Programmer Cultivator-Chapter 57 - 55: In the Inn

Seeing the confused look on the man’s face, Zhang Deming shook his head.

’Looks like he really doesn’t recognize me. Maybe I’m overthinking it.’ The little boy, Yi Huaihai, who had been stone-faced the entire time, finally spoke. "Senior Brother, don’t waste your breath on someone like him."

He then turned to the old beggar and said, "My way of thinking is a bit different from most people’s.

I like to look at things from a certain... perspective. From my perspective, we didn’t need your help. You showed up out of nowhere to mooch off us, and you have a foul attitude. For that, you deserve to die!

Originally, that was going to be your last meal.

But since you went on with that long-winded explanation, I’ve reconsidered. I’ll just take one of your hands.

Consider it a warning. As a mortal, the next time you decide to meddle, you should at least figure out who you’re dealing with first. We are not people you can afford to mooch off of."

Zhang Deming looked at Yi Huaihai in surprise. ’This perspective-based way of thinking is quite to my liking,’ he thought. ’Of course, just the thought process. His methods... are a bit too extreme.’

"You little brat, I..."

With a sinister smile, Yi Huaihai looked up, and the old beggar’s words caught in his throat.

A faint light glinted in Yi Huaihai’s eyes as he stared coldly at the old beggar.

The old beggar froze, his eyes fixed on the light in Yi Huaihai’s.

A man of his standing in the Martial Arts World knew a thing or two about the legends of Immortals. He had never met one, but he knew just how formidable they were.

Yi Huaihai observed the old man’s expression. "It seems that while you don’t recognize my Senior Brother’s attire, you’re not completely ignorant. So, shall I do it for you?"

A bitter expression washed over the old beggar’s face. He hesitated for a moment, his expression shifting, yet a strange, cold calm flickered in the depths of his eyes. In the end, he offered no further explanation. "There’s no need to trouble you two seniors. I will do it myself."

Zhang Deming frowned slightly. He hesitated, about to speak, when his eyes unintentionally fell upon a corner of the old beggar’s undergarments.

’Hm?’

’Is he really just some expert beggar? This fabric...’

His eyes glinted for a moment, but in the end, he said nothing.

As soon as he finished speaking, the old beggar decisively extended his right hand, formed it into a blade-hand, and chopped off his own left hand.

Throughout the ordeal, his face was pale and his jaw was clenched tight.

"This junior will disturb you seniors no longer."

With that, the old beggar bowed his head and staggered away.

Seeing the man actually go through with the self-mutilation, Zhang Deming discreetly glanced at the old beggar’s clothes again. ’Was I really just overthinking it?’

Shaking his head, Zhang Deming watched the man’s retreating back and said coolly, "When you roam the Martial Arts World, full of chivalry and righteous passion, it’s best to open your eyes before you act.

Failing that, if your eyes aren’t sharp enough, at least use your mouth and ask if your help is needed before you jump in.

From many people’s perspective, this so-called ’forced chivalry’ isn’t much better than those people who were just staring us down.

Otherwise, you’ll lose your life over it sooner or later."

The old beggar’s figure faltered for a moment. Without turning back, he said, "Senior’s lesson is well-received. This junior will remember it."

With that, he reached the stairwell and headed upstairs.

Watching the old man leave, Zhang Deming didn’t think the boy was wrong. He had planned on punishing the beggar as well, just perhaps not in a way that would leave a permanent disability. His methods would have been slightly less extreme, that’s all.

In this world, the distinction between Immortal and Mortal was deeply ingrained. Yi Huaihai’s reaction to being offended by a mortal was quite normal—in fact, it could even be considered lenient. Never mind Yi Huaihai; Zhang Deming himself could clearly feel how his own mentality had changed after so many years of living in the Sect.

Of course, he wasn’t going to pass judgment on the outcome. Everyone has different values. Besides, he was just someone sharing a table. That was all there was to it.

If he hadn’t personally felt that Yi Huaihai’s method was a bit extreme, he wouldn’t have hesitated at all, nor would he have said those final words to the old beggar.

’Is something forced upon you with good intentions still considered coercion?’

’Even in my past life, that was a controversial philosophical question. In this world, you also have to factor in the fundamental distinction between Immortal and Mortal.’

And Zhang Deming had always been one to decide such matters according to his own principles.

Moreover, his White Cloud Cyan Shirt, the uniform of the Sect, represented a great deal in the mortal territories under the Celestial Spirit Sect’s influence.

Even if, on the surface, the old beggar truly seemed ignorant.

But when you’re out in the world, it’s never wrong to be wary of those who approach you unprompted.

He wasn’t one to jump to simple conclusions. He was always skeptical of so-called ’Hong Qigong’ archetypes.

And that skepticism was now greatly amplified by the discovery of the fabric of the man’s undergarments.

’Wait a minute. Can you really use Inner Strength to staunch the bleeding so perfectly that not a single drop of blood is spilled after chopping off a hand?’

Zhang Deming frowned. He looked at the floor, then tried to recall the incident. ’The wound... I think he covered it up very quickly.’

He shook his head. ’Why am I thinking so much about it? It has nothing to do with me. Whether he’s genuine or not, it’s not my problem.’

Very few people in the hall had noticed the faint light in Yi Huaihai’s eyes.

With such a bizarre turn of events—a Martial Arts Giant from Liuzhou suddenly mutilating himself and addressing a young man and a child as "seniors"—the atmosphere in the hall grew incredibly strange.

However, because of this incident, all the ill-intentioned gazes that had been fixed on Zhang Deming’s table vanished completely.

"Proprietress," Zhang Deming called out.

At Zhang Deming’s Summoning, the Shopkeeper and the proprietress, who were hiding behind the counter, began shoving each other.

Each wanted the other to go out and face the two terrifying figures. In the end, the proprietress seemed to be the bolder of the two. She approached with a strained laugh and said, "Er, yes... Young Master, is there anything you need?"

Zhang Deming said flatly, "A new table, please."

The proprietress paused for a second, then forced a smile. "Right away!"

With that, she began cleaning up with hurried movements.

While they waited, many of the so-called Martial Artists in the dining hall furtively sized up Zhang Deming, the adult of the pair.

Zhang Deming acted as if he didn’t notice. With his current power, if he were to actually get involved in the Martial Arts World, a single one wouldn’t be enough for him to conquer.

Before he learned the Spiritual Shield, a group of Innate Martial Artists might have had a chance to turn the tables on him.

But now that he had mastered the Spiritual Shield, they clearly couldn’t break through his defenses. In Zhang Deming’s eyes, these Martial Artists were no different from Ordinary people.

A moment later, an identical set of dishes was served.

Since Zhang Deming had only asked for a replacement, the proprietress didn’t dare alter the order.

Zhang Deming didn’t mind. This time, he gestured for the young boy to eat with him.

As they ate, he occasionally sized up his companion. ’Judging by how precocious he is, this kid must have quite a story.’

But Zhang Deming didn’t pry. They were merely strangers who had met by chance. They were sharing a meal only because they walked the same path and would soon be disciples of the same sect.

After they slowly finished their meal, he casually tossed a gold ingot onto the table.

"Y-Young Master, this is... this is too much. I don’t have change for this," the proprietress said nervously, eyeing the gold ingot without daring to touch it.

"Just put it on my tab for now. Is my room ready?" Zhang Deming asked.

The proprietress nodded at once. "Yes, it’s ready. The Emperor Suite. Should I have hot water prepared for a bath?"

Seeing Zhang Deming’s refined bearing, she asked out of pure instinct, despite the sweltering heat.

Zhang Deming nodded. "Not too hot. Just warm enough to take the chill off the well water will do."

After a full day of travel, even though his Outer Disciple uniform had a self-cleaning property, Zhang Deming still felt grimy and in need of a proper bath.

With that, Zhang Deming got up and went upstairs. Yi Huaihai, having finished his meal, remained seated alone, gazing silently out the window, lost in thought once more.

The inn was remote, but it was surprisingly decent.

Zhang Deming relaxed in the enormous wooden tub, his mind turning to his next course of action.

’Hm, should I complete the rain-making mission first thing tomorrow? Or should I wait and see?’

’An area the size of a town... with my current Cultivation, I’ll need to perform the Casting in sections.’

’Oh, well. I’ll investigate the area carefully when I get there and decide then.’

Having made up his mind, Zhang Deming got out of the tub, sat on his bed, and began to restore his Spiritual Power. His earlier attempt at recovery had been interrupted, and he was still not quite at his peak.

A short while later, with his Spiritual Power fully restored, Zhang Deming lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

「Midnight.」

Zhang Deming was jolted awake by the loud sounds of a fierce battle.

Bleary-eyed, he got out of bed and opened the door to find the hallway in a state of chaos.

Several Martial Artists were ganging up on the one-handed old beggar.

One side had the advantage in numbers but was limited in skill; the other was one-handed and severely injured but possessed profound strength.

For a moment, the fight was surprisingly intense, a true stalemate.

"What’s with all this racket in the middle of the night?! If you can’t sleep, go feed yourselves to the wolves! I hear one more peep out of any of you, and I can’t guarantee you’ll see tomorrow’s sunrise."

Seething with the fury of someone just woken up, Zhang Deming roared down at the group before turning around and slamming his door shut.