Cultivation Nerd-Chapter 238: A Harsh Truth!

Winter passed, and spring was in full swing before I knew it. Some patches of snow still lingered in the house's shadowed corners, stubborn holdouts against the warmer days.

Surprisingly, I ended up sparring quite a bit with Fu Yating and Wu Yan. Fu Yating, especially, seemed to enjoy it. She even took the initiative to ask me for matches now and then. I suppose even someone like her got tired of constantly keeping up appearances. Sometimes, you just needed to hit something.

Unfortunately, enthusiasm wasn't a substitute for talent. Fu Yating's martial skills? Barely improved. Still, our sessions gave me some insight into her. From what I could tell, she craved power for power's sake. She wanted to be strong now and rushed through lessons without fully grasping them. Honestly, that mindset was terrible for learning. She'd have been better off chasing power for a more ridiculous reason, like building a harem or something. At least then, her enthusiasm might have persisted through the endless, repetitive failures with no results.

Also, another new thing was that we had gotten actual reports from the front lines.

I watched my mother as she excitedly recounted what she knew about the battle's outcome, describing how the warriors had returned home braver than ever.

So, they'd finished off the child-killing and wiped out the Fu and Jie Clans? That was quick. Not so much of a challenge when your targets are defenseless, I guess.

I didn't want to think about the bad part of this whole situation. Could I have done something? Perhaps, but not much. I didn't want to think about that either.

Now, it was just a matter of waiting for winter to officially end and seeing what came next. Spring would bring new worries, especially if there was trouble with the Blazing Sun Sect.

I might have to wait a few more years for the Heavenly Calamity to pass.

I had special leave, thanks to Song Song pulling some strings. But my cousins might not be so lucky. So we might need to find a way to extend that.

"What exactly did you hear? Did they tell you anything besides the 'victorious return' bit?" I asked.

Civilians never got much accurate information. For all the bravado, it could easily be a lie to keep the masses from getting restless. Not that I thought we'd lose the war at this point, but anything was possible.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Fu Yating biting her lip so hard it nearly drew blood. Almost immediately, though, her face returned to its usual expressionless mask.

That was the first real crack in her composure I'd seen since she arrived, and I was confident it was genuine. Some part of her had probably clung to the hope her clan might survive or at least hold out.

This time, just this once, I decided not to take advantage of her weakness and acted like I hadn't noticed.

She'd just found out her entire family was dead. The least I could do was leave her be.

"Other than feasts being arranged and funerals for the dead, I didn't hear much. I came back as soon as I could! I can't wait to tell your father!" my mother said, her voice squeaky with excitement. I'd never seen her like this before. I guess the war and its possible outcomes had been weighing on her more than she let on.

"That's good," I said, pulling her into a warm hug. If feasts were being prepared, then we really had won. "Let me know if you need help with dinner."

"A man your age in the kitchen? What are you, a cook?" she shot back with a teasing grin before disappearing into the house with Wu Yan following close behind, practically bouncing with every step.

She never let me help with cooking, but it was polite to offer.

I decided to call off sparring for the day; this wasn't the right time for Fu Yating to push herself. Instead, I headed to the bath while she used the one on the first floor.

…

By the time I was clean, the sun was sinking low on the horizon, signaling it was almost dinner. As usual, my father returned home at sunset, but this time my grandfather was with him, grinning from ear to ear.

We were already seated at the table when they came in.

"Sit down. No need to get up," my grandfather said, settling into the chair opposite Fu Yating like he owned the place.

Despite his cheerful demeanor, the old man bore a large, raw, blistering scar around his neck, and his left arm was bound in a sling. Even so, his good mood seemed unshaken, and not even Fu Yating's presence at the table bothered him.

"So, how did the war go?" I asked, skipping any preamble. This wasn't small talk and would help me decide whether to leave immediately or stick around.

"Well," my grandfather began, taking a sip of the hard alcohol my mother poured for him. It looked like water, but the smell gave it away. "We got lucky during the Thunder Wolf's attack. Both the Fu and Jie Clan Heads were killed."

He paused, a satisfied glint in his eye. freeweɓnovel.cøm

"The hardest part wasn't the fighting; it was organizing the loot and managing the cities afterward. Once we showed them the heads of their clan leaders, they just crumbled. Screamed, whined, and rolled over as we put them down like the fuckers they were!"

My grandfather stared at my fiancée like a bloodthirsty wolf. At the same time, Fu Yating kept her head down, poking at her food with her chopsticks and barely eating a thing.

Still, he continued explaining his strategies and how he’d handled the war. “It was mostly luck that the other clan heads were so badly injured during the fight against the Thunder Wolves. That made it easy for us to wipe out the remnants of the other clans.”

“How about we leave work talk for outside the dinner table,” I suggested. It wasn’t like I enjoyed watching Fu Yating squirm. “Anyway, how are your injuries, Grandpa?”

“Well, I almost got my head chopped off, but here I am,” he said with a grin. “You should see what happened to the other guy.”

Grandpa didn’t seem traumatized by nearly dying. If anything, by the way he was smiling, it looked like he’d made some fond memories. Knowing him, it was probably a Fu Clan member who’d come close to killing him; he always got extra cheerful when he talked about taking them down.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

We continued eating, but no matter how much I tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, Grandpa kept dragging it back to war.

After dinner, it was dark out, but Grandpa decided to stay for tea and strong liquor. He and my father laughed and swapped jokes while I stuck around as the third man of the house. Fu Yating, on the other hand, excused herself and went upstairs to “sleep,” though it was apparent she just wanted to get away.

During one of their conversations, I cut in.

“By the way, has the snow cleared outside the city? Are the mountains passable?” I asked. “We should’ve heard something from the greater sects by now, right?”

“No news,” Grandpa replied, pouring himself another drink. “There are still monstrous beasts on the mountain roads, and as for the big sects? If they’d sent word, we’d have heard it by now.”

That wasn’t unusual. Even though the Liu Clan’s territory fell under the Blazing Sun Sect’s jurisdiction, they barely communicated with us, especially in winter. The Sect was the ruler of these lands in name only. They rarely even collect taxes, not that this territory had much to offer them anyway.

I nodded, letting the topic drop, and Grandpa returned to chatting with my father.

Towns that paid taxes usually had the protection of sect disciples, or even elders in rare cases, during beast waves. But here? We were on our own.

...

A couple of hours passed, and Grandpa had drunk enough to kill a normal man’s liver while my father had already dozed off with his head on the table. Yet Grandpa didn’t seem the least bit tipsy.

“You know, Liu Feng,” he began, staring into the bottom of an empty glass, “I’ve never quite understood what happened to you in the Blazing Sun Sect. You were always so dutiful when you were younger and always followed my advice. When I heard how well you were doing in the Sect, I was the proudest man alive.”

He didn’t look drunk, but I doubted he’d be this open otherwise.

“Glad I could make you proud,” I said, sipping my fourth cup of tea and wondering how much longer he planned to stay. My daily cultivation schedule was coming up.

“But now,” he said, his voice taking on a bitter edge, “I can’t help feeling like we’ve grown distant.”

“Why do you think that?” I asked, keeping my tone passive.

“I never thought my grandson would marry a Fu Clan bitch! Just imagining my descendants walking around with Fu blood in their veins…” he looked like he was about to cough out a lung as he said that.

Holy shit, he was still hung up on that? He really needed to move on. The Fu Clan was gone. Maybe he should pick up a hobby more appropriate for his age.

“Anyway, how’s my reward coming along?” I asked, changing the subject blatantly. Arguing with him about his hatred for the Fu Clan was pointless. He was too stubborn, and I didn’t care enough to fight him on it.

“Reward?” He tilted his head, confused.

“You know, the reward. I stopped the lightning of a Core Formation monstrous beast and triggered the avalanche that gave you guys some breathing room,” I reminded him.

I didn’t usually like boasting, but this was about more than pride. There were rewards at stake, potentially even some valuable knowledge. Sure, my heart wasn’t entirely in this war, and others might’ve shown more loyalty or courage, but the results were what mattered. Without that lucky avalanche, the expedition might’ve ended in a massacre.

“Oh, right,” he said, shaking his head. “Another thing I was proud of… until you ruined it by sticking up for that-” He stopped himself, his disgust evident.

Yeah, no mistaking how he felt about my marriage.

“Anyway,” he said, waving me off, “You should meet with the Clan Head tomorrow to discuss it.”

“Sure,” I said with a nod.

If they went back on their promise, I’d just distance myself from the clan. Not the individuals, of course. People like Liu Qian, Liu Heng, and Liu Bo had helped me in the past, even when it put them at risk. Like that one time in the outer Sect when some no-name inner sect disciple tried to mess with me...

After some more talking about pointless stuff, Grandpa finally left, the smell of alcohol lingering on his clothes, breath, and whole presence. He reeked like he was drunk, but his straight gait and steady demeanor said otherwise.

I stood at the door, watching him walk to the gate.

Maybe I should set aside some time to research the effects of alcohol on a cultivator’s body. It seemed like a useless and kind of stupid thing to study, but I couldn’t deny my curiosity.

I shook the thought away and closed the door, heading toward my room while mentally calculating how much cultivation time I’d need tonight. Looked like I’d have to stay up two hours past my usual schedule to fit it in.

As I passed Fu Yating’s room, I paused.

Why was I even standing here? I wasn’t sure myself. Maybe part of me felt sorry for her, wondering if she was crying.

But logic quickly took over, and I shook my head. This wasn’t my business. Her whole family had been massacred today and if there was ever a day for her mask to slip, it was this one. I wouldn’t use her vulnerability against her. At least not today.

Still, I couldn’t let her grieve indefinitely. There was too much I needed to learn from her. Those acting lessons wouldn’t teach themselves. It was cruel, but if we had lost then we would be on the receiving end of this treatment. I doubt Fu Yating would have been this soft on me.

As I reached my room, I sensed something unusual inside.

I opened the door to find Fu Yating sitting at my desk, brushing her dark hair behind her ear as she leaned on one elbow. She was reading a book, a compilation of my notes on the Mortal Grade Technique, Piercing Fang Fist. It was the same book Liu Feng had used to learn the technique, but I had just scribbled my own experiences and some notes.

Instead of saying anything, I closed the door loudly enough to break her focus if she was too absorbed. Then I went straight to my bed, sat cross-legged, and began cultivating.

What could I even say in this situation? 'Your whole family is dead, want to cuddle to feel better?' Or maybe, 'Get out of my room so I can cultivate in peace?'

The insensitive part of me leaned toward the latter.

Comforting her wasn’t an option, I had no idea how to do that. If there was one thing I’d learned in my past life, it was that silence was sometimes the best choice. In the end, I just decided to act like she was not here.

...

Midnight came and went, marked only by the flipping of pages and the gentle swirling of Qi below my stomach.

By the time I was halfway through my cultivation, the stillness broke.

“What do you think of me?” Fu Yating asked suddenly.

I stopped cultivating, giving myself a moment to think.

“You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be,” I said.

“That’s the greatest non-answer I’ve ever heard,” she replied dryly.

“To elaborate,” I said, “You’re not that annoying. You don’t bother me when I’m doing my thing, which I appreciate. But it’s a bit irritating wondering if you’re scheming something whenever I see you doing anything.”

I closed my eyes, resuming cultivation, but paused again. Staring at the ceiling, I added, “Still, I like having you around. You keep me on edge, and I’d rather practice scheming with you than someone who could actually hurt me.”

“You think I can’t hurt you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Quite the opposite,” I replied calmly. “But you’re less dangerous. If I mess up with you, I’m less likely to end up slapped to death in one hit than I would with someone else.”

“So... I’m like your teacher?” she asked, flashing a smile that showed off her perfect white teeth.

“More like a test dummy,” I said. “But yeah, something like that.”

Despite my choice of words, Fu Yating didn’t seem bothered. She stood, placing the book she’d been reading neatly back in its spot, and walked out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her.

What was she thinking now?

No matter how I looked at it, whether through her words, body language, or actions… I couldn’t tell. Maybe I lacked the right experiences in both my lives. Or maybe I was looking at this all the wrong way.