What do you mean I'm a cultivator?-Chapter 34

Jiang Cheng adjusted the strap of his satchel and stepped onto the stone steps, descending from the sect’s lofty heights into the world below. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and damp earth, and the morning sun cast long shadows across the path. He kept his movements steady, each step measured and deliberate.

The descent was familiar. He had walked this path before, but it never ceased to remind him of the separation between the sect and the mortal world. Up above, cultivation reigned supreme, and the concerns of common folk seemed distant. But down below, reality was harsher. Life was dictated not by the strength of one’s Qi for the most part, but by the grind of daily survival.

Cheng wondered if he would ever visit a big city like the one in book he had read.

The one he was interested at most, was the imperial city of Fengzheng, ruled by the Fengzheng dynasty for the last five hundred years. Mostly a mortal city, but it's higher ups were cultivators. Their current emperor, Emperor Yang, was a cultivator at the Verge of breaking through to the Spiritual sea realm.

While powerful, The royal family and by extension the kingdom had a subserviently stance to the three great sects of the region, the falling star sect, and the Blue drought pavilion.

The stone steps stretched far, winding through the dense mountain forest. The chirping of birds and the rustling of small creatures in the underbrush accompanied his descent.

Occasionally, he passed other disciples, some returning from missions, others departing for their own. Most ignored him, too caught up in their own affairs. A few nodded in greeting, and he returned the gesture, but no words were exchanged.

By midday, he had reached the lower foothills, where the trees grew taller, their thick branches forming a canopy overhead. He took a brief pause at a clearing by a stream, kneeling to refill his waterskin. The cool water splashed against his hands.

He had taken a side path this time, and he was interested with how different the mountain was. Where he first went down, trees were sparce. here, they were plenty.

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After a moment of rest, drinking from his waterskin, he resumed walking and continued on his way. The dirt path ahead was uneven, lined with gnarled roots and loose stones. As he walked, his hand brushed against a low hanging branch, and an old memory surfaced. His first mission.

Back then, he had been much greener than now, still unsteady in his steps outside the sect. That mission had been simple. Grab some herbs.

It was a mission with no mishaps like his second one. And during his trek to the location of the ravine, he had shaped a simple cube, a pointless little thing, but it had helped him focus and relax.

It also, paved his way to the man he was now, One ultimately versed in carving and woodworking. It truly was interesting how one whimsical action had developed to all of this. Just like a butterly moving it's wings, causing a hurricane at the other side of the world.

What a fitting description. Thanks weird thoughts. Cheng thought, feeling like the saying fit his situation perfectly.

Would he never had gotten the interest and the frustration to walk the path of carving? Would he even have met Master Liu?

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Jiang Cheng slowed his pace and, on a whim, just like back then, reached for a nearby branch. With a swift motion, he unsheathed his sword and sliced it cleanly, testing the blade by not using Qi at all. The cut was smooth, effortless. Proof of his craftsmanship.

He turned the branch in his hands, inspecting it. Then, using the tip of a knife, he began carving.

His strokes were slow and controlled, whittling away the excess wood. A cube. A simple shape, symmetrical and balanced. His movements were steadier now than they had been back then, his precision sharper. He had changed. He had grown. Both in cultivation, and skill.

He turned the small wooden cube between his fingers, then tucked it into his pouch before continuing forward. It would fit well right next to his first one.

"Real shame this one doesn't have a matching cut to go with it." Cheng mumbled to himself, and chuckled.

The road stretched ahead, and the village was still some distance away. But Jiang Cheng did not rush. He simply walked, his newly forged sword at his side, his steps firm, and his mind clear.

Jiang Cheng’s journey stretched on for three more days.

The mountain path gradually gave way to rolling hills, then to vast stretches of farmland, where golden fields of grain swayed gently in the wind. The road was well traveled, though he rarely saw others on it just the occasional farmer driving a cart or a hunter carrying his day’s catch, all bowing respectfully to him, as he wore the sect's robes.

It really was a wonder just how in his first mission he saw nobody.

He moved at a steady pace, conserving his energy. He stopped only when necessary. To eat a satiation pill, to rest at night, to sharpen his sword under the shade of a tree. It didn't need sharpening, or cleaning, But what fool does not take care of the thing that will protect their life?

Each night, he found a secluded spot, meditated, and circulated his Qi before resuming his journey at dawn.

By the evening of the third day, he finally caught sight of the village.

It was modest, yet lively. A cluster of wooden houses surrounded by fields, with a few smoke trails rising from chimneys. The villagers, dressed in simple linen garments, moved about their tasks hauling sacks of grain, leading livestock to their pens, chatting in small groups.

At the center of the village, a small wooden building stood slightly apart from the others. Jiang Cheng immediately recognized it as the elder’s home.

Before he could announce his arrival, the door creaked open.

A man stepped out, his hair gray, his face weathered by time, yet his posture remained upright. His robes were simpler than the ones outer disciples wore in the sect, but they still carried the faint mark of his past life. Even after leaving the sect, he had held onto that identity.

Jiang Cheng felt the elder’s gaze sweep over him. Then, slowly, the old man clasped his hands and bowed.

“Welcome, honored disciple.” Elder Yaozhi said, his voice calm yet respectful. “The Falling Star Sect has sent someone far more capable than we expected.”

"Perhaps so. I am Jiang Cheng. Sent by the sect to help with the village's problem."

Jiang Cheng returned the gesture, finding no reason to be arrogant, or proud. Proud of what? his measly, not even foundation establishment cultivation?

What he didn't really expect, was the lack of envy, or bitterness in the old man before him. He thought that the elder might resent him, As due to his lacking talent, the elder chose to settle and form a village, Not wanting to die working in the outer sect.

But no. There was only respect.

The reason was obvious.

Jiang Cheng was at the tenth stage of Qi Condensation. Elder Yaozhi was only at the fifth.

For all the elder’s years, all his experience, he would never close that gap. Jiang Cheng had already surpassed him. And both of them knew it.

Even if the elder was bitter, he was no fool to show such. Both people knew that disrespecting one's better's was a good way to get sent to the grave.

A strange feeling settled in Jiang Cheng’s chest.

Would this be his future, if he failed to progress? Would he too, leave the sect one day, settle in some nameless village, and guide mortals who looked up to him despite knowing he had reached his peak?

The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. It felt just like that rotten apple he once bit into, when he was but a dumb kid in the small farm he was born in.

But he pushed it aside. This was no time to get philosophical.