Cultivation Nerd - Chapter 192: Plan of Leaving

The damp underground library in the mansion was a strange place. It wasn’t just its appearance—parts of the library resembled an alchemy lab. We had cleaned it, clearing out the dust and spiderwebs, yet the scent of dampness and mold lingered. In addition, the room held curious items like records of peculiar plants and obscure, low-tier alchemic recipes I’d never heard of.

I turned another page in an old, worn-out book, skimming through its bizarre contents. However, my focus was drawn to the elegant handwritten notes scattered throughout. These notes detailed the true side effects and specific ratios of certain ingredients. Evidently, the writer had used themselves as a test subject, describing in first-person the excruciating pain brought on by particular plants.

A hastily written note caught my attention as I reached the last page. The ink was smudged, suggesting the writer had been crying while writing:

‘At least nothing I eat will kill me thanks to my extreme physique. But it’s clear now that alchemy might not be the solution to treat my version of this condition.’

It seemed that the writer had an extreme physique—a rare case. I was surprised, having already encountered Ye An and now stumbling upon another person who shared this trait. Judging by the condition of the paper, these notes couldn’t have been older than twenty years. Given how poorly the library was maintained, I doubted my estimation was far off.

Extreme physiques were supposed to emerge only once every hundred to three hundred years. Then again, those were only the recorded cases. People like Ye An and the person who penned these notes likely went unnoticed by official records.

The ghost also had mentioned the approaching Age of Immortals, which might make extreme physiques more common.

I sighed, closing the book and placing it back on the shelf.

From what I had gleaned from the notes, “Extreme Physique” was a broad and varied condition. Though grouped under the same term, two people with this trait often had little in common.

It reminded me of cancer—how it was not one disease but a collection of conditions characterized by uncontrolled cell growth. Extreme physiques worked similarly. During a person’s conception, the process determining the number of spiritual branches went awry, leading to an excess resulting in a wide range of effects.

For example, the woman who wrote these notes appeared immune to poison as long as she ingested it through her mouth and never suffered food poisoning. On the other hand, Ye An could easily be poisoned, and her body’s excess spiritual root branches were likely to be her downfall. This woman’s condition was different: her body was devouring itself, and the spirit branches were hyperactive and consuming too much Qi, causing her dantian to become bloated.

Dantian was roughly the area where cultivators stored Qi.

No matter how much she ate, she was always starving. Her body consumed her fat, muscle, tissue, and even bone mass at an alarming rate. Despite this, her cultivation talent was extraordinary. She had 153 spirit root branches, which devoured Qi voraciously. By age sixteen, without formal training, she had already reached the peak of Qi Gathering. This was faster than Ye An’s extreme physique in many ways.

I had a rough idea of who this woman might be, especially when she mentioned a certain daughter in her notes. She was worried about the girl growing closer to her father and the influence that might have on her.

Of course, some things were better left buried. This was another secret I would pretend I knew nothing about.

“It took her too long to realize alchemy wasn’t the solution to her problem. Even if some powerful pill or potion could help, it would take a high-tier alchemist to create something like that,” I muttered. “She should have abandoned alchemy as soon as she saw that any medical pill or poison she ingested had no effect on her.”

She was worse at alchemy than me, and I barely half-assed it. Aside from a few essential healing salves, I knew little about the craft. My theoretical knowledge was decent, but knowing and executing a recipe were two entirely different things. Alchemy was more art than science.

A soft sound echoed from the stone stairs leading to the library. I recognized the light rhythm of Song Song’s footsteps. She moved like a leaf, her steps barely noticeable most of the time.

“Heyo!” she called out, unusually cheerful. “My shitty brother sent a secret message—apparently, some Core Elders are scheming to assassinate us and groom the next generation to suit their needs.”

Whatever thoughts I had about the books and the desperate mother’s notes vanished. Song Song’s news completely shattered that mood.

“Who the fuck starts a conversation like that?” I stared at her.

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“Well,” she continued, still cheerful, “my trashy brother thinks we should band together and show the evidence to Father. He doesn’t usually get involved in minor squabbles, even if someone from our generation is killed. There’s this unspoken rule that the older folks can’t interfere. But some people have forgotten how terrifying the Song Clan can be.” She pretended to look through the books, clearly avoiding my gaze.

Her actions alone told me she was hiding something. She knew that if I got a good look into her eyes, I’d be able to read her like an open book.

“Well, he did punish you when you killed that cousin of yours,” I pointed out. “Maybe he’s not as neutral about the younger generation conflicts as he claims.”

“That was a different situation,” she dismissed. “That was more of his way of teaching me not to kill people who could be useful allies later. But in the end, he let me off the hook. Even though you kind of forced his hand, he never usually budges on these things. That was his way of saying he agreed with my principle—that it’s better to have one trustworthy subordinate than five hundred who would stab you in the back at the first opportunity.”

We had more pressing concerns, and I doubt I could convince Song Song of her father’s nature. Perhaps she was right; I didn’t know the guy that well.

Song Song’s perspective on her father might have been skewed, but who knew how accurate her brother’s warning was.

“What do you plan to do?” I asked.

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” she said. “I need ideas. You’re supposed to be the smart advisor here, so do your job and advise me.”

If this were any other time, I’d be all for a family get-together where the father, son, and daughter could go on a terrific rampage against some old foes. But that was unrealistic, and with the heavenly calamity so near, I doubted her father would go for it. In such a situation, using those old folk as cannon fodder would be in his best interest.

Song San had already stirred up trouble by trying to provoke Song Song as soon as our alliance was formed. I was wary of working with him whether or not he intended to start a real fight. He would jump at any opportunity to betray us if the reward was high enough—and Song Song’s death would be reward enough since he was the second most talented person after her.

“So, any ideas? Or are you going to keep thinking until next summer?” Song Song pressed me.

“I suggest letting your brother hang for a while,” I said. “If they kill him, all the better for us. But I doubt he’d go down easily. It’s best to let those factions bleed each other dry while we stay on the sidelines.”

With the heavenly calamity approaching, every side was going to suffer losses. The key was to make sure our side bled the least. If we could do that, we’d win the war of attrition, which ultimately meant Song Song advancing to Core Formation.

“What makes you think the old farts won’t come after us?” Song Song raised an eyebrow.

“Because we won’t be around when they put their plan into action,” I replied.

It was no coincidence that the old faction was making their move now. They knew their chances of influencing things were slipping away with Ye An gone. Plus, the incoming heavenly calamity presented the perfect opportunity—people would be too distracted to notice.

“A major catastrophe is about to hit the Blazing Sun Sect,” I continued. Not using ‘heavenly calamity’ just in case that was some kind of trigger word for some of the arrays already in the basement before we moved here. “You need to get away from here for at least a few years. You could claim it’s for indoor cultivation or something along those lines.”

I mentally organized my thoughts, preparing for whatever questions Song Song might have. The library’s silencing array ensured our conversation would stay private. Being underground with only one entrance, there was no way anyone could overhear us.

“Sure,” Song Song shrugged.

She must have noticed the look I gave her because she frowned in confusion. “What? I can just ask Father, say I’m close to a breakthrough and that the people here are too distracting. He’ll probably agree.”

There was so much to unpack in that statement. First of all, why did she have such blind faith in me? Was she stupid or something? I could be completely wrong about all of this. It’s not like I was infallible.

I wasn’t saying she should suspect me of treason, but a little caution would be nice. I thought we’d worked on getting rid of that recklessness of hers.

And second, since when did she become Daddy’s spoiled princess? I never pictured her father favoring her in particular. He treated all his children the same. Even Song San could act like a murderous asshole without facing much punishment.

The dim light of the library cast long shadows over us, and for a moment, a malicious gleam flashed in Song Song’s eyes as she glanced at the books.

Yep, she was definitely hiding something.

“Any other news?” I asked, hoping to coax out whatever secret she was keeping. Usually, she didn’t bother holding things back, but even Song Song had her mysteries.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” she grinned, her sharpened canines showing. “Your cousins left the Sect to visit the Liu Clan. Apparently, it was an emergency. Seems like your clan is in some kind of conflict, and they need fighters.”

I was sure that was a convenient lie. The Liu Clan was in its golden age, constantly expanding. When wasn’t an expanding clan fighting someone? They were constantly battling and assimilating weaker clans.

“Good, looks like I’ll be leaving soon too,” I said with a wink, implying that it was all just an excuse. “I need to do some research for my new Monster Encyclopedia, Summer Edition.”

“And maybe meet your fiancée while you’re at it,” Song Song teased, her eyes glinting. “When’s the wedding, by the way? Bet the Sect would give you more time off if you had a marriage to arrange.”

“You’re so petty,” I sighed.

Petty, yes, but her suggestion had merit. A marriage and some research… would make for a suitable excuse. I could even play it off as my family needing to secure allies quickly due to their conflict, which might speed up talks with the Fu Clan.