Cultivation Nerd

Chapter 182: My First Friend

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon rose, casting its ethereal glow over the landscape, it became clear that we were on our own for the night. Neither the Core Elders nor any representatives from the Moonlit River Sect came to check on us or guide us to accommodations.

Some disciples headed toward the Moonlit River Sect. In contrast, others set up camp on the outskirts, grumbling that the smell would only worsen the closer they got to the river.

I set up an array to block out the foul odors, and Song Song and my cousins joined me in making camp on the outskirts of the Moonlit River Sect grounds. The array was about the size of a small house since any bigger would make it too weak, and I didn't want to waste more Qi on a mere convenience.

“You’re handy to have around,” Song Song said. Sitting on a rocking chair, she absentmindedly played with her hair, twirling strands around her fingers. The rocking chair barely moved, the soft, wet ground swallowing its rhythm.

“Don't try to break the array barrier; it's quite fragile. This is one of the first times I've cast something like this outside of practice," I responded.

Liu Bo found a comfortable spot on the grass. Meanwhile, my other male cousin Liu Heng, diligent as always, started a fire. Liu Qian was preparing meat-based skewers while I watched them like an owl.

Some of the nearby disciples eyed us with thinly veiled jealousy. Still, they were too intimidated by Song Song to approach and ask for the same smell-canceling barrier I had set up for our small camp.

"Well, I'm going off to see how a foul-smelling river came to be. Anyone want to come along?" I asked.

My cousins glanced at me before returning to their tasks, saying nothing. Song Song, on the other hand, stared at me like a hawk, and from the glint in her eyes, I knew she was about to say something snide.

She seemed about ready to add more but glanced around at the others and held back, realizing that certain remarks could undermine the other person's authority. Song Song knew I wouldn't take her teasing to heart, but she also knew that, regardless of my feelings, people might see me as someone who could be pushed around.

"Let me know if you see anything interesting," she yawned, leaning back in her chair, stretching, and then closing her eyes for a nap.

Her indifference couldn't have been more evident, but at least it showed she trusted me enough to know I wouldn't betray her while left to my own devices.

I turned and headed toward the town. As soon as I stepped outside the array barrier, the foul stench hit me—like an old rag soaked in rotting vomit!

Pushing through the nauseating odor, I walked closer to the Moonlit River Sect grounds. Those who stayed back had been right; the smell grew worse with every step I took.

While discovering the reason for the river's stench might not have been my main goal, it was certainly something I intended to uncover.

As I approached the town-like Sect grounds, some merchants and Body Tempering disciples glanced my way. Still, none spared more than a moment before returning to their tasks—managing stalls, haggling, or running around after buying pills.

I navigated through the cluttered outskirts of the Sect grounds, passing by disciples from the great sects who were conversing with merchants and others.

While observing the bustling activity around me, something unusual caught my attention—a man was flying through the air, a chaotic tangle of limbs, yelping as he unexpectedly crashed head-first into the side of a nearby house. This caused the house wall to splinter apart due to the power of the impact. The crash was brutal, and for a moment, the surrounding noise seemed to mute in response to the spectacle. Although I could tell he was still alive, thanks to a hint of groaning or subtle movement.

Concern mingled with curiosity as the scene unfolded, leaving bystanders in a momentary state of shocked hesitation.

The perpetrator of the incident waddled through the crowd. Though I was taller than average, this guy was a giant. He towered at least two heads above me, his body so round it covered half the road. His chest was floppy, and his man breasts spilled out like those of an elderly woman.

In my previous life, I had seen many TV shows where obese people were paraded around like curiosities, so overweight that I often wondered how a person could reach such a size. But this guy put all of them to shame. He resembled a giant balloon, with a face so chubby it was difficult to discern any distinctive features. The fat of his brows had drooped, almost covering his eyes and yellowing sclera.

This man was at the peak of Body Tempering—I could sense it. Yet his aura made it clear that few Body Tempering Cultivators could challenge him.

The enormous cultivator turned toward me and smiled, revealing rows of sharp, white teeth more suited to a wild animal.

"When I heard the four great Sects had stopped by, I could only hope that you would be among them," the fat cultivator said as he approached and picked me up as easily as lifting a toy. He hugged me and added, "You haven't changed at all!"

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I laughed and returned the hug. Despite being pressed against his ample belly, it wasn't as soft as I had expected—it felt more like I was hugging a gigantic steel ball.

"I see you've been practicing your family technique," I said. "How have you been, Yang Cho?"

Just as it looked like he was going to reply, he frowned when he noticed others were looking at us. Yang Cho set me down and said, "Follow me; we can talk somewhere more private."

I followed him toward a majestic Chinese-themed castle that stood at the edge of a bridge. As we approached, the pervasive smell intensified, reaching a new level of foulness—likely a combination of our proximity to the darkish red river and the dampness of the area. Despite the stench, the advantage was the lack of people; the area was almost deserted, offering a peaceful solitude.

Yang Cho seemed unfazed by the odor as he chose a spot on the lush, grassy ground beside the river. He sat down with a casual ease, seemingly appreciating the tranquil isolation just a stone's throw from the ornate castle. The gentle rustling of the river and the soft sway of the grass provided a natural backdrop to our secluded meeting spot.

"How is life with Song Song treating you?" he asked.

"About as well as one would expect. She has her moods now and then, whereas she tries to be a better person whenever she feels like it," I responded. "How about you? How is life treating you now that you're no longer in the Blazing Sun Sect?"

He stared at the river in silent contemplation before answering. "On the way here, I thought about faking my own death, starting a farm, and living out the rest of my life as a simple villager."

Yang Cho continued staring at the river while drowning in his mind, "But the thought of what would happen if I were found out stopped me from doing something so foolish. I can't say life has been much better here, though."

He wasn't saying it outright, but even a blind man could tell he wasn't happy.

"You know, after the tournament when you tried to enter the inner sect, you had this sparkle in your eyes. I always thought that eventually, I would enjoy this whole thing. I used to tell myself that only in the greater Sects was there an atmosphere where a disciple might kill you for a simple Qi Sensing pill," he shook his head and sighed, his yellow, watery eyes staring into the dark river below. "But it seems like it's the same everywhere. Finding a disciple with integrity is like finding a needle in a haystack."

I understood where he was coming from. I didn't like the scheming and betrayal in cultivation either. Nevertheless, I was willing to tolerate them as long as I could continue learning. Compared to the wonders of cultivation, I could accept the minor inconveniences.

Staring at my old friend, I wondered what to say. Many words of encouragement or false promises that everything would be alright came to mind. But this was a journey he had to walk on his own.

Words were just hot air; a person's nature is determined by actions. Yang Cho needed to make his own decisions in life. Too many people had already tried to decide his path for him. It was time for him to discover what he, and only he, truly wanted.

Circumstances had tried to harden him, but he was kind at heart. Too kind, and not suited for a world like this. Despite his physical changes, he hadn't changed much on the inside.

The dark crimson river continued to flow, and I could swear I saw chunks of something grotesque in the water.

I didn't think less of my friend for not corrupting himself for the sake of cultivation or for not becoming cold and calculating in the world he was part of. He was a much stronger man than me, willing to resist the world's corruption for the sake of his values. On the other hand, I was willing to overlook certain things.

Perhaps people were born with their nature, and I never had the chance to show this side of myself in my previous life. But I often found philosophical discussions and contemplations bland. What interested me more were Qi, martial techniques, and Cultivation.

"Whatever you decide to do, I wish you the best. This is your life, and it isn't something where someone else can come in and decide for you," I told him.

My eyes stayed glued to the dark red river as I tried to catch sight of another of those chunks, but there were none.

Yang Cho released a sigh, one that seemed to have been held in for a while. Then he smiled, his sharp rows of teeth glistening in the moonlight.

“Even when you’re wrong, you’re right,” he said.

What he meant by that, I had no idea. But it seemed the invisible weight on his shoulders had lightened.

Sometimes, a friend was someone you could hang around with and talk about dumb stuff for hours. Other times, it was someone who helped lift the burdens you carry.

“How did this foul river come to be?” I asked, steering the conversation away from the somber mood.

“From dead monstrous beasts ending up in it,” Yang Cho explained. “During the Beast Waves, towns, cities, and Sects throw the carcasses and corpses of monstrous beasts into the river. Multiple rivers connect to the one that runs through the Moonlit River Sect, so we end up dealing with the worst smell and foul water for most of the year.”

Aha! So those were the grotesque chunks I had seen in the water.

“That’s interesting. How do you even get drinking water? Has anyone ever fallen into the river?” I inquired.

“I have no idea,” Yang Cho shrugged. “But I can tell you something else interesting. While the Moonlit River Sect technically has one Sect Leader, the Sect is split in two. A Grand Elder, who is as strong as the Sect Leader, rules the other side of the river.”

That was intriguing.

“Do they, like, fight each other?” I asked.

“Not yet,” Yang Cho smirked. “But there’s a pretty big rivalry. There are even tournaments where both halves of the Sect compete against each other.”

It was a strange development for a Sect. No wonder they never rebelled against the Blazing Sun Sect—they were too busy fighting each other.

We spent the rest of the night talking about our problems and the ridiculous things happening around us. Eventually, the conversation devolved into silly jokes.

By morning, the night had passed with little actual shut eye for either of us, but despite the lack of sleep, I felt surprisingly rejuvenated—more so than I had in a long while. After exchanging farewells with Yang Cho, I set off once more. Our next destination was Goldwatch City.