Surprisingly Enoughnot Common Sense Is Overpowered In A Cliche Cultivation World Chapter 112
Surprisingly enough(not), common sense is overpowered in a cliché cultivation world 1.109 in which ning acts like a ‘normal’ farmer~[ … words ]
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[ … words ]
“Brother Xiao Fan told me you shot him through the chest with an arrow. Is that true?”
Ning felt an immediate chill crawl down his spine.
Fucking Xiao Fan and his foot-in-mouth flaw.
He could already imagine what had happened.
“Oh, Ning? Yeah, he was a great help! Pierced me in the chest, which hurt like hell, but after that he got a creepy old man out of me!”
And, of course, he had probably forgotten to mention until much later that the whole thing had been part of his own plan.
Normally, if Xiao Fan had told that to anyone else, Ning would have just shrugged it off, but he had to tell the one person it actually mattered to: Xiao Qing.
Xiao Qing was Xiao Fan’s adopted sister and one of the greatest prodigies of their generation. She had reached Foundation Building at an absurdly young age, and her appearance was every bit as extraordinary as her talent.
Long white hair fell around a face so delicate that even among cultivators she stood out immediately, while her pale eyes and almost flawless complexion gave her an ethereal beauty beneath the drifting petals.
If there was such a thing as a jade beauty among jade beauties, Xiao Qing certainly qualified. In fact, Ning was fairly sure she was the most beautiful person he had encountered since arriving in this world.
So naturally, one might wonder why his first instinct upon seeing such a transcendent beauty was to feel terror.
The answer was simple.
His first proper impression of Xiao Qing had involved watching her nearly murder someone by forcing water into their mouth and lungs. That wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part had been the coldness in her pale eyes as she did it.
More importantly, she had done it to someone who had tried to kill Xiao Fan.
Now that same girl was smiling gently while asking whether Ning had put an arrow through her beloved brother’s chest.
Yeah, he was cooked.
Facing such a situation, Ning resorted to the final move of a secret technique passed down through a long and bizarre lineage, an ultimate art reserved for opponents one had absolutely no business fighting.
He ran.
Shadow Steps activated beneath Ning’s feet as he shot backward along the mountain path, while almost simultaneously, Fenghuang received a hurried command through their bond and launched himself from Ning’s shoulder in the opposite direction.
He didn’t get far before Xiao Qing’s voice came from directly ahead of him.
“Brother Ning, why are you running?”
Ning came to an abrupt stop. He hadn’t sensed her move at all, yet somehow she was already standing in front of him, looking as pleasant as before.
“I thought you might have been talking about someone else,” Ning replied without missing a beat, returning her smile with one of his own.
From his expression alone, no one would have guessed that he had just tried to flee for his life.
Xiao Qing looked genuinely amused. “Someone else who shot Brother Xiao through the chest?”
“The sect is quite large. The probability might be low, but it’s never zero.”
For a moment, Xiao Qing simply looked at him, apparently processing the sheer confidence with which he had spoken such obvious nonsense, before the corner of her mouth twitched.
Ning took that as a good sign. “Senior Xiao Qing, I think Brother Xiao may have left out some rather important details when he told you what happened.”
“Senior?” Xiao Qing tilted her head slightly. “We’re around the same age, Brother Ning. You can simply call me Xiao Qing.”
Ning noticed how naturally she shortened the distance between them, but there was little reason to object.
“Then Sister Xiao Qing it is.”
Her expression warmed slightly, and Ning decided that diplomacy would have to carry him through the rest of this encounter.
He explained what had actually happened in the prison, starting with Mei Long and the desperate situation they had found themselves in before moving on to Xiao Fan’s plan. Ning didn’t attempt to shove all the responsibility onto Xiao Fan merely because he was speaking to his frighteningly protective sister, but he also made it clear that Xiao Fan had understood exactly what Ning intended to do and had willingly agreed to it.
Xiao Qing listened quietly throughout the explanation, her pale eyes remaining on his face, and it wasn’t long before Ning noticed something strange.
She didn’t look surprised.
Even when he mentioned details that should have earned some reaction from someone hearing them for the first time, Xiao Qing remained perfectly composed. Ning even risked quietly activating Pure Eyes, but he still couldn’t find a single flaw in her expression.
He then understood that this woman was not trying to figure out the truth at all; rather, she wanted the truth he would tell.
Fine. If she wanted his answer, he would give it to her.
“So yes, I shot him,” Ning concluded. “Given the situation we were in, it was the best option available to us, and Brother Xiao agreed to the plan beforehand. If the same situation happened again and those were still our only choices, I’d probably do the same thing.”
Xiao Qing remained quiet for a moment before asking, “You wouldn’t apologize?”
“I’d apologize for hurting him,” Ning answered after giving the question some thought, “but I wouldn’t apologize for doing what was necessary to keep him alive. It was his plan in the first place, and even knowing how it turned out, I still think we made the right decision.”
Xiao Qing’s expression softened slightly.
She had heard Ji Ning’s name often enough from her brother to become curious about him, and after speaking with him herself, she was beginning to understand why Xiao Fan enjoyed his company. Ning was good-looking, certainly, but that was hardly unusual among cultivators. What stood out was how easy he was to talk to. He joked easily, listened when she spoke, and despite being obviously wary of her, never tried to flatter her or shift the blame onto Xiao Fan.
More subtly, his eyes never lingered. Xiao Qing had long grown accustomed to the extra glances her appearance attracted, even from those who tried to hide them. Ning had certainly noticed her beauty, but after that first look, he simply treated her like anyone else.
He was surprisingly pleasant company.
“You really are similar to Brother Xiao in some ways,” she eventually said. “He would probably give me almost the same answer.”
Well, that was partly because he’d been imagining what Xiao Fan would say.
He had answered more straightforwardly than he normally would, but when talking to someone, knowing your audience was important. Xiao Qing hadn’t come here looking for excuses or carefully worded apologies, and giving her either would probably have made things worse.
Ning’s smile became a little more genuine. “Coming from his sister, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one.” Xiao Qing paused before amusement crept back into her eyes. “Although you didn’t actually need to explain everything so seriously. I already knew what happened.”
Ning looked at her for a moment before laughing. “So you were just teasing me.”
“A little,” Xiao Qing admitted, covering her mouth as she laughed softly.
“You know, you’re quite scary when you want to be. I genuinely thought Brother Xiao had accidentally sent you here to avenge him.”
Her eyes curved with amusement. “Is that why you ran?”
“I feel like the running answered that question.”
That earned another laugh from Xiao Qing, and Ning joined her. For a few moments, the tension between them faded almost completely as the two laughed beneath the flowering tree.
Interesting, Ning thought.
It was easy to label her as just another yandere, but throughout their conversation, she had been gentle and even willing to joke with him, without once putting on airs because of her cultivation or status.
Of course, Ning had no delusions that he was somehow choosing the perfect dialogue option every time he opened his mouth. If anything, Xiao Qing was probably just willing to humor him.
Somehow, that only made her more dangerous. Xiao Qing knew exactly what she was doing, and she could do it all while smiling pleasantly at you.
Ning narrowed his eyes slightly.
Xiao Qing’s laughter eventually faded, though the smile remained on her face. “Still, I hope there won’t be another incident like that. Brother Xiao already has a bad enough habit of getting himself injured without his friends putting arrows through his chest as well.”
Her voice remained gentle, but Ning felt a chill run down his spine.
“Of course.” Ning nodded without hesitation, then smiled. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected, from Brother Xiao’s sister. You really do care about him. He’s lucky to have you.”
Hearing that, a faint flush immediately appeared across Xiao Qing’s cheeks. She turned her face slightly away, suddenly finding the drifting petals beside them rather interesting.
“It’s not like that.”
Ning blinked.
What do you mean, it’s not like that? I said you care about your brother.
He wisely kept the question to himself.
The sudden change was admittedly rather cute, although Ning found it difficult to forget that the embarrassed girl standing before him was the same person he had been fleeing from a few minutes ago. Somehow, that made the whole thing more unnerving.
Xiao Qing soon recovered and, perhaps noticing his expression, gave him a knowing smile.
“You really do know what to say to women. Though I suppose that should be expected from the person who wrote Senior Sister, Please Behave Yourself!“
Ning’s smile stiffened.
How the hell did that novel get involved again?
Ever since his identity as the author had been exposed to certain people, Ning had known it would eventually come back to haunt him. He had simply not expected Xiao Qing to be the first person to bring it up.
He coughed and wisely decided not to defend his literary credentials.
Fortunately, Xiao Qing didn’t pursue the matter. She reached into her storage pouch instead and took out several jade slips, handwritten notes, and miscellaneous items that Ning immediately recognized.
“Brother Xiao asked me to return these to you,” Xiao Qing said. “His master suddenly took him away on a mission, so he left them with me since he didn’t have time to return them himself.”
Ning wasn’t sure whether he should be pleased that Xiao Fan had finally learned to return borrowed goods before disappearing on another adventure, or annoyed that these were probably what had exposed his novel-writing activities to Xiao Qing in the first place.
There had been a page or two among the pile where Ning had written down some ideas for future stories, but those were mixed in with dozens of other notes. They shouldn’t have been particularly noticeable.
Ning’s thoughts moved quickly as he tried to remember exactly what he had written, but there was little point worrying about it now. The important thing was getting his belongings back.
He reached out instinctively, only to realize there was considerably more than he could comfortably carry.
So Ning raised two fingers to his lips and gave a sharp whistle.
A familiar caw soon answered from above, and moments later, Fenghuang appeared over the flowering trees, white wings spread wide as he glided toward them. He wasn’t alone. Following along the mountain path was Spiritual Flower Peak’s second-tier puppet, its heavy footsteps striking the stone at a steady rhythm.
Fenghuang landed beside Ning and puffed himself up, looking rather pleased with himself.
“Good job.”
Ning smiled and scratched the raven beneath the chin before turning back to the things Xiao Qing had brought. Without a storage pouch of his own, carrying everything back would have been troublesome, but fortunately, he now had something considerably stronger than himself standing right there.
He gathered the jade slips, notes, and miscellaneous items and began handing them to the puppet one after another. The construct obediently accepted everything, stacking the materials securely in its arms until the entire pile had been transferred.
Xiao Qing said nothing throughout the process. Her gaze lingered briefly on the unfamiliar raven before moving toward the second-tier puppet that had followed him here.
Ning noticed her attention but acted as though there was nothing unusual about the situation.
Of course, he hadn’t sent Fenghuang away earlier without a reason. Ning had known perfectly well that Shadow Steps wasn’t going to let a Qi Condensation cultivator outrun someone at Foundation Building, so his retreat had simply bought Fenghuang enough time to fetch Spiritual Flower Peak’s second-tier puppet. It wouldn’t be enough to defeat Xiao Qing if things truly went wrong, but it might buy Ning enough time to call for help, which was considerably better than nothing.
Thankfully, none of that had been necessary, and since his emergency reinforcement had come all this way anyway, Ning saw no reason not to put it to work.
The puppet now stood behind him with its arms full of jade slips and notes, having gone from Ning’s last line of defense against a potentially murderous Foundation Building cultivator to a glorified luggage carrier in the span of a single conversation.
Xiao Qing only needed a glance at the puppet to piece together why it had shown up so conveniently. Even mid-panic, he’d been thinking two steps ahead.
Brother Xiao really had made a dangerous friend.
Rather than troubling her, the thought made Xiao Qing’s smile deepen slightly. If Brother Xiao insisted on throwing himself into danger wherever he went, having someone clever enough to prepare for the worst at his side was hardly a bad thing.
She reached for the storage pouch at her waist and drew it free.
“Brother Ning, how about we make a deal?”
“What kind of deal?”
“You write something for me,” Xiao Qing said, lifting the pouch slightly between her fingers, “and I’ll give you this.”
Ning’s eyes settled on the pouch before returning to her. “What do you want me to write?”
“A story.”
Ning immediately became wary again.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
To be honest, he didn’t particularly want to get involved with Xiao Qing. First of all, she was a jade beauty, which was already one of the biggest red flags imaginable. Second, Si Sihua had once put it rather simply: “If someone looks like they’ll make your life complicated, don’t wait around to find out if you’re right.”
Ning had always considered that excellent advice.
“I’m afraid I’ve been rather busy recently,” he said carefully.
“Is that so?” Xiao Qing’s smile remained gentle. “That’s unfortunate. I was hoping Brother Ning would at least hear me out before refusing.”
Ning was about to offer another polite excuse when Xiao Qing added almost casually, “It would be a shame if I had to keep coming back until you found some free time.”
Ning paused.
Xiao Qing continued smiling at him, her expression as gentle as ever, but Ning understood immediately that she was entirely serious.
“…I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to hear you out.”
“Exactly.” Xiao Qing’s smile brightened. “The protagonist should be a hardworking young man who starts with very little but becomes stronger through his own efforts. He’s talented, dependable, kind, and has a very determined temperament.”
Ning nodded along.
“He’s also extremely handsome,” Xiao Qing added seriously.
Ning’s nod became noticeably slower.
“He also has a younger sister who has stayed beside him since childhood. She supported him when everyone else looked down on him, always believed in him, and understood him better than anyone else. No matter how powerful he becomes or how far he travels, he always remembers that she’s the most important person in his life, and eventually, the two of them stay together.”
At this point, Ning had stopped nodding entirely.
He looked at Xiao Qing.
Xiao Qing smiled back with perfect innocence.
Ning briefly considered asking whether this hardworking, handsome young man happened to possess a repaired spiritual root and an almost supernatural ability to encounter trouble wherever he went, but common sense strangled the question before it could reach his mouth.
“I think I understand the general direction.”
“Good.” Xiao Qing seemed pleased. “There also shouldn’t be too many women around him. One or two are acceptable if they’re necessary for the story, but they should understand their position.”
“Very magnanimous of you.”
“Thank you.”
Ning genuinely couldn’t tell whether she had noticed the sarcasm.
“And the younger sister gets a happy ending with him,” Xiao Qing added.
Ning looked at her for another moment before his gaze slowly dropped toward the storage pouch dangling between her fingers.
“How large is that thing?”
“About ten times larger than an ordinary low-grade storage pouch.”
“Ten times?!” Ning’s expression changed immediately. His own low-grade pouch held barely thirty cubic feet, so he knew exactly how much space that meant.
Xiao Qing nodded at his reaction. “It’s a high-grade storage pouch. The internal formation is much larger and more stable, though maintaining it costs around sixty spirit stones a month.”
Ning did some quick calculations.
A storage pouch of that capacity would cost several thousand spirit stones at minimum.
And on that day, another man’s artistic integrity fell before the unstoppable force known as capitalism.
“I can work with this premise.”
Xiao Qing’s smile became radiant. “I thought you might.”
“For the record, the characters will be entirely fictional,” Ning said solemnly.
“Of course. I wouldn’t ask you to write about anyone we actually know.”
Ning gave her a long look. “And any resemblance to actual disciples of the Pure Qi Sect will be completely coincidental.”
Xiao Qing smiled. “I can’t imagine who anyone would possibly confuse them with.”
By now, the earlier wariness between them had eased considerably, and the two were beginning to find that they could follow each other’s way of thinking surprisingly well.
Xiao Qing extended the high-grade space pouch toward him.
“Well, since you’ve made such a persuasive argument, it would be rude of me to refuse,” Ning said as he took it.
And just like that, a shady deal concerning the protagonist was struck, one that could never be allowed to reach said protagonist’s ears.
Xiao Qing seemed quite satisfied with the arrangement. She took a few steps down the path before stopping and glancing back at him, her white hair shifting gently in the evening breeze.
“I think we’ll cooperate quite well in the future, Brother Ning.”
Ning could only return her smile. “I think so too.”
Xiao Qing’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, and her smile took on a faintly teasing edge. “The Jade-Faced Hundred Tricks Young Master… I suppose the name does suit you.”
Ning’s smile froze.
“…Who?”
Xiao Qing laughed softly and continued down the mountain path.
Ning stared after her.
Jade-Faced what now?
…
Ning sat beneath a tree in Courtyard 66, sipping tea while several Earth-path cultivators worked on his house.
Calling it construction almost felt unfair. Stone shifted like clay beneath their techniques, walls rose directly from the earth, and heavy sections of timber moved through the air with barely any effort. A formation cultivator followed behind them, carving channels and inscriptions into the newly finished structure.
Ning took another sip of tea.
Supernatural strength and control over the earth really did simplify construction.
The only reason Ning’s residence was being completed now was that, after the recent chaos in the sect, there had been far more important things to rebuild first.
It was a pity Ning didn’t have a suitable Earth-path technique in his arsenal. Otherwise, he might have added Ning the Builder to his growing list of professions. With so much of the sect requiring repairs, missions for Earth-path construction cultivators were paying exceptionally well.
“Senior Brother Ji.”
Ning looked up as one of the Earth-path cultivators approached, wiping some dust from his hands. He was a broad-shouldered outer disciple and, judging by how casually the man had shifted an entire section of wall earlier, Ning suspected he could have built a normal mortal house by himself before lunch.
“The western side should be finished by tomorrow,” the man said. “After that, we’ll need another two days to reinforce the new rooms and connect everything to the courtyard formations. Should we continue into the evening?”
Ning glanced toward the others. None of them looked particularly tired, but they had also been working since morning.
“No need. Finish whatever you’re doing now and call it a day.” He gestured toward the table beneath the tree. “There are drinks and some food there. Take whatever you want before you leave.”
The man’s gaze followed his hand.
Several clay jugs sat beneath the shade alongside sliced spirit fruit and a plate of pastries.
The man’s expression brightened. “You are too generous.”
“It’s nothing. You’ve been working on my house all day; feeding you is the least I can do.”
The Earth-path cultivator stared at him for a moment before laughing.
Ning smiled and returned to his tea.
There were many people in life one could afford to annoy. The people preparing your food were not among them, and Ning had decided that anyone responsible for ensuring your ceiling remained above you while you slept belonged in roughly the same category.
Ning had faith in human decency. He simply preferred not to test it unnecessarily.
After finishing his tea, Ning left the cultivators to their work and headed toward the rear of Courtyard 66, where ten acres of spiritual farmland stretched behind the residence.
The size itself wasn’t anything new. Ning had managed roughly the same amount of land back in Sector Three.
The quality, however, was another matter entirely.
Ning crouched at the edge of the field and scooped up a handful of dark soil, rubbing it between his fingers.
First-grade spiritual soil.
Even after a year, that still felt extravagant.
Back in Sector Three, Ning had spent months using Soil Refining, adjusting moisture, improving nutrients, and making the mediocre farmland perform above its station. Here, spiritual qi naturally accumulated within the earth; the soil was already rich and well-balanced, and the spirit-gathering formation beneath Courtyard 66 extended throughout all ten acres.
Ning let the soil slip between his fingers. “Does this mean I have made it big?”
No wonder people are always fighting for better courtyards.
Ning stood, picked up the basket of seeds and seedlings he had brought with him, and walked toward the first prepared row.
Several sections had been reserved for ingredients used in Red Bud Pills. Redheart Grass occupied the driest section, Three-Petal Bloodwort went closer to the center, and Ning planted Ambervein Root where the soil retained slightly more moisture.
None were particularly rare, but he used Red Bud Pills often enough that growing the ingredients himself made sense, especially now that he had soil capable of producing better medicinal plants than anything he had managed in Sector Three.
He was also curious how much difference first-grade spiritual soil would actually make to different plants’ growth.
The books were annoyingly vague about these things. They liked phrases such as greatly improves medicinal essence and nourishes the spiritual nature of heaven and earth, which sounded profound while giving Ning absolutely no useful numbers.
Naturally, Ning had plenty of questions, and he intended to find the answers gradually.
Preferably with charts. The cultivation world desperately needed more charts.
Once the Red Bud Pill ingredients were settled, Ning moved to the next prepared section and reached into a different basket.
The basket held Moonshade Grass, Bitterheart Vine, Silverthread Moss, Seven-Spotted Mushrooms, and Corpse-Scent Orchids.
Ning looked over the collection and felt his mood improve considerably.
Now they were getting to the fun part.
Most of the plants were perfectly normal on their own. Moonshade Grass was commonly used in calming incense, Bitterheart Vine appeared in medicines for treating excessive yang qi, and despite possessing a name that sounded as though it should only grow on mass graves beneath a blood moon, Corpse-Scent Orchid was mostly used to make insect repellents.
None of them were particularly dangerous.
The important words there were on their own.
That was one of the more interesting things Ning had discovered in the demonic inheritance.
The inheritance hadn’t contained only the Phantom Veil Art. Its spiritual imprint also held knowledge of disguises, concealment, tracking, poison refinement, methods of exploiting defensive formations, and even an assassination movement technique called Ghostless Step.
Ning hadn’t started cultivating the latter yet. Much of it overlapped with Shadow Steps, though its principles of exploiting blind spots and using explosive bursts of movement were certainly worth studying. If he was going to seriously cultivate another movement technique, however, Ning would rather find something focused on rapid repositioning, escaping encirclement, and maintaining distance.
For now, that could wait.
Today, Ning was much more interested in poison, mostly because the more he thought about his history with the stuff, the more grievances he realized he had.
Poison was supposed to be one of the great equalizers of combat. Put the correct substance into the correct part of the body at the correct concentration, and biology was supposed to handle the rest.
At least, that was how Ning believed things should work.
Of course, in this reality, there were only lies and disappointment.
Whenever he used poison against anyone important, something seemed to go wrong. One opponent had a detoxification pill, another possessed abnormal resistance, someone else had cultivated a technique that could suppress toxins, and then there had been Mei Long, whose body was so thoroughly altered by his supernatural talent that Ning’s poison had accomplished little beyond mildly inconveniencing him.
Ning had eventually been forced to put explosive pills inside the man’s body.
That had worked wonderfully, though it had somewhat defeated the purpose of using poison.
Ning had nothing against explosives. Explosions were an art form, but poison was supposed to offer something different. It should weaken stronger opponents, bypass conventional defenses, and reward preparation. Ning wanted to spend three days preparing some horrible concoction and have the enemy actually suffer for it.
Was that really too much to ask?
Apparently it had been, because Ning’s previous knowledge of poison was relatively crude. Most of what he knew amounted to taking something poisonous, putting it on an arrow, and hoping whoever he shot didn’t possess the exact countermeasures.
The demonic inheritance offered a much more satisfying approach.
Many of its formulas didn’t rely on obviously poisonous ingredients at all.
Cultivators with sufficiently developed spiritual sense could often detect common poisons through smell, spiritual fluctuations, or subtle changes within their own bodies. Experienced cultivators were even more troublesome, especially those who had spent enough time outside the sect to develop the perfectly reasonable habit of assuming everything offered to them was trying to kill them.
The creator of the inheritance had apparently encountered the same problem and reached an elegant conclusion.
If your enemy could detect poison, don’t give them poison.
Give them several perfectly harmless substances and let them become poison afterward.
Ning liked that kind of thinking as well.
He stopped beside the first row and checked his notes.
Moonshade Grass contained a mild yin-aligned medicinal essence that calmed the meridians, while Bitterheart Vine stimulated qi circulation. Neither was particularly dangerous in sensible quantities, and both appeared in perfectly legitimate medicines.
When their extracts were combined in the correct proportions and introduced to a trace amount of refined Firebell Seed, however, the interaction changed completely. The resulting mixture would repeatedly disrupt the flow of qi through the meridians, causing them to constrict and spasm whenever the victim tried to circulate their cultivation.
Ning had spent some time wondering what that would actually feel like.
Purely theoretically, of course.
“If they mistake it for cultivation deviation, they might even make it worse trying to force their qi through.” Ning paused, thinking about that.
He planted another seed anyway.
Seven-Spotted Mushroom, Corpse-Scent Orchid, and Silverthread Moss formed the basis of another mixture when refined together. This one interfered with the connection between spiritual sense and physical movement, gradually making the limbs sluggish while leaving the victim conscious. A small dose would resemble ordinary exhaustion, while enough of it could leave someone fully aware of their surroundings but barely capable of moving.
The inheritance called it Sleeping Corpse Powder.
For once, Ning had no complaints about the dramatic demonic naming convention. After all, it did exactly what the name suggested.
He planted another Silverthread Moss.
The next formula was even more interesting because two of its primary ingredients were commonly found in healing medicines. One promoted blood circulation while the other encouraged clotting, and under ordinary circumstances both were beneficial.
Refined according to the inheritance’s method, however, the resulting substance could cause tiny clots to begin forming throughout the target’s bloodstream.
Ning paused and mentally reviewed the formula again before looking down at the harmless little seed resting between his fingers.
Whoever had created this inheritance had been an absolute bastard, and Ning meant that with considerable respect.
So, that was another seed he carefully planted.
Finally, there was Corpse-Dissolving Powder.
Despite the name, it wasn’t actually a poison meant for living opponents. The powder was refined from several highly corrosive spiritual extracts, with Bone-Eroding Vine serving as the main ingredient. Once sprinkled over a corpse and activated with qi, it would rapidly break down flesh, blood, and even bone until little remained beyond a pile of gray ash.
Ning stared at that particular formula for a little longer than the others.
He could already imagine the process. After triple-tapping the enemy to make absolutely sure they were dead, he would ferry their soul and finally use the Corpse-Dissolving Powder to reduce their body to ashes.
Let it never be said that his encounter with Lei Shen hadn’t changed him.
Whether that change was for better or worse, only time would tell.
Of course, he wasn’t planning to start brewing every poison immediately. Some formulas required ingredients Ning couldn’t obtain at his current cultivation, while others had been designed for targets so far beyond Qi Condensation that merely handling the finished product incorrectly might result in Ning becoming its first victim.
For now, he had selected several formulas whose ingredients he could actually grow, and even those were only starting points.
Ning didn’t want to simply copy the formulas from the inheritance. Once the plants matured, he intended to experiment with them himself.
There were plenty of things he wanted to test. Some of the ingredients were expensive, so finding cheaper substitutes would be useful, and changing the proportions might strengthen the effect or make it harder to detect. He was particularly curious about delivery methods. Coating an arrow was easy enough, but food, smoke, skin contact, or even introducing poison through qi offered considerably more possibilities.
And once he understood each formula properly, he could begin developing his own.
Ning had learned his lesson. If an opponent could resist one type of poison, he would use another; if they could resist two, he would combine three. There were countless ways for a cultivator to resist poison, but Ning seriously doubted there was such a thing as resistance to everything.
And if he was ever proven wrong, there were always explosives.
No reason to become dogmatic.
By the time the final seedlings were in place, Ning’s knees were dirty and the afternoon sun had begun drifting lower. He stood, stretched his back, and looked over the newly planted rows before circulating his qi.
Soil Refining spread beneath his feet.
The moment he felt the soil, Ning sighed.
There was almost nothing to fix.
Ning was so accustomed to using Soil Refining to correct compacted earth, uneven moisture, poor qi distribution, and a dozen other minor deficiencies that working with first-grade spiritual soil almost felt like cheating. Now, he could skip most of the repairs and devote the technique entirely to customization.
The starting point was already better than much of what he had once worked hard to achieve.
“Perhaps that is another charm of cultivation?” Ning mused.
The soil around the Seven-Spotted Mushrooms became slightly denser and better at retaining moisture, while the beds prepared for Corpse-Scent Orchids loosened enough for their finer roots to spread easily. He adjusted drainage around the Redheart Grass, guided more moisture toward the Ambervein Root, and subtly redirected the spiritual qi beneath the Moonshade Grass toward the cooler, more yin-heavy section of the field.
The entire process was almost relaxing.
Once he was satisfied with the soil, Ning followed with the Sprouting and Nurturing Technique.
A gentle wave of wood-aligned qi moved through the field. The smallest seedlings straightened, several leaves visibly unfurled, and the newly planted roots began settling more firmly into the earth.
Ning walked between the rows as he worked, occasionally crouching to adjust by hand.
This was one lesson he had learned early: cultivation techniques made farming easier, but they didn’t magically make someone a good farmer. More spiritual qi wasn’t always better, just as more water wasn’t always better. A disciple could force a plant to grow rapidly and still end up with weak medicinal essence because its roots and structure hadn’t developed properly.
Somehow, even in farming, everything came down to foundation.
After making the last adjustment, he stood at the edge of the field and admired his work.
The Red Bud Pill ingredients occupied one section of the field, while Ning had planted the ingredients for his various poisons in another. Looking at them now, there was nothing particularly sinister about the field. Most of the plants were harmless on their own, and several were commonly used in perfectly ordinary medicines.
What Ning planned to do with them afterward was a different matter.
Still, he was quite pleased with the arrangement.
Medicine on one side, poison on the other. It was perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
There was only one thing left to do: watering.
Fortunately, Ning had just the technique for that.
[SMALL CLOUD RAIN TECHNIQUE]
Qi gathered overhead, and a familiar gray cloud slowly took shape above the spiritual field. At Ning’s current mastery, the spell could cover roughly one acre at a time, which was also the natural limit of the technique.
Of course, overcoming limitations like that was exactly the sort of thing Infinite Circle was useful for.
A familiar panel appeared before him.
[INFINITE CIRCLE: ACCUMULATING (99/100)]
Ning smiled and raised one hand toward the sky.
The final cycle completed.
[INFINITE CIRCLE: ACCUMULATING (100/100)]
He released the accumulated qi.
Power surged into Small Cloud Rain, and the cloud immediately began to swell beyond its usual boundary. It crossed the first acre, rolled into the second, and continued spreading until all ten acres of Ning’s spiritual field had disappeared beneath a vast blanket of gray.
Ning looked up at the cloud with satisfaction.
Fifteen days of accumulation hadn’t gone to waste after all.
A moment later, rain began to fall.
The spiritually enriched rain sank into the first-grade soil, and the newly planted herbs visibly stirred beneath it. Ning watched the Moonshade Grass, Bitterheart Vine, Silverthread Moss, and Corpse-Scent Orchids drinking deeply, and his imagination immediately began running.
Poisoned arrows were only the beginning. There could be powders, incense, contact toxins, delayed poisons, mixtures whose separate ingredients were harmless until they combined inside the target, perhaps even layered poisons where taking the antidote for the first toxin activated the second.
Ning’s smile widened.
There was another benefit. Everyone knew poison users tended to get sidelined eventually, so that should help keep his growing narrative importance under control.
He could already imagine some arrogant bastard announcing that his body was immune to a hundred poisons.
In that case, Ning would simply have to introduce him to the hundred-and-first.
The thought pleased him far more than it probably should have.
“Bwahahahaha!”
Ning’s laughter rang across the field as he stood amid the pouring rain. For several moments, he was completely lost in the beautiful future he had imagined, right up until he happened to glance sideways and noticed Fenghuang perched beneath a nearby tree, staring at him.
Ning’s laughter gradually died as a mixture of confusion and mild disgust came through his bond with Fenghuang.
He glanced at the raven. “What? A man is allowed to enjoy his hobbies.”
Fenghuang gave a low cry.
Ning chose to ignore him and turned back to the field.
Embarrassing laughter aside, Ning felt considerably better about his future with poison. If the cultivation world insisted on producing increasingly ridiculous ways to resist it, then he would simply have to become increasingly ridiculous at making it.
After all, he was still a farmer, and adapting to pests was part of the job.
…
Thanks for reading~
A/N: Guys, I think Ning’s view of farming is a bit different from the norm. Also, the Patreon poll has spoken, but whether Ning will quietly accept the nickname is another thing altogether…
