I Am Your Natural Enemy

Wen Yan picked up the little zombie, who was sitting on the side, resting her chin in her hands and watching quietly.

”Little one, I’m about to become a real expert! Maybe one day I’ll be a Land Immortal, pointing from the air, sword energy shooting out, blasting the enemy’s head in one hit.”

The little zombie grinned just like Wen Yan, hugging his neck to share in his happiness.

Sparrow Cat, blessed with Yang Energy, flapped its wings—the wingtips even puffed out wisps of Yang mist.

”Wait, are you really gonna turn into a bigshot? Weren’t you supposed to be unable to cultivate?” Sparrow Cat looked absolutely shocked.

”Ha, sooner or later I’ll be a master.”

Wen Yan made the Tao Finger gesture, blessing everyone at home with Yang Energy from a distance—having the time of his life.

Even smashing through Scorching Sun Fist training didn’t give him the same joy as feeling himself getting stronger today.

How should I describe it? When he goes all out these days, his body’s probably got the strength of a mini excavator—but to him, that’s still just basic fitness.

But this blessing people from a distance, now that’s clearly beyond your everyday martial artist’s bag of tricks.

He was just getting started, and already he could see a whole new, bigger world.

Soon, if someone tries to snipe him from far away, he won’t have to do a live-action 100-meter sprint to catch them anymore.

Who knows, maybe by then, he’ll just stand there with one hand behind his back, not even looking—point a finger, release some sword energy, boom right through the sound barrier, and before the guy even hears it, the sword energy’s already blasted through a concrete wall, taking out the shooter hiding behind it.

Just thinking about it is enough to get his blood pumping.

Wen Yan got so fired up, he started thinking practice twelve hours a day is for lightweights—nowhere near enough. Eighteen’s a bit much, though, so how about sixteen?

Noting Wen Yan’s mad enthusiasm—like he’d guzzled an energy drink or three—Gray Cloth squeezed along the wall into the kitchen, then slipped through a gap under the dishwasher, burrowing under the cupboards. Didn’t even care if it was dirty, totally ditched its comfy sleeping box.

Gray Cloth just thought: Wen Yan on this kind of energy rush is actually kind of scary.

Sure enough, right as Gray Cloth got settled, he heard Wen Yan outside, asking where he’d gone.

Hidden in the darkness, Gray Cloth finally relaxed, flopped down, and chilled out like it was boneless.

Twelve hours a day is his limit. More than that is possible maybe for a day or two.

But the way Wen Yan’s acting, today he might bump it up to fourteen, and tomorrow fourteen hours is gonna be the starting point.

Before, Gray Cloth might have argued. I mean, a proper spirit monster losing to a human? What kind of joke is that?

But now? Eh, forget it. He’s just a piece of gray cloth. Losing out to a human? That’s totally normal.

Gray Cloth was hidden perfectly, at just the right distance.

Guarantees he won’t get found, but if anything actually happens, he can pop up at a moment’s notice.

Not slacking for either side—just right.

Wen Yan couldn’t find Gray Cloth. Nowhere to aim all that pumped-up energy, he could only give up in disappointment.

He tried to chase that feeling he had before, attempting to fuse all his blood and Yang together. The power when he pulled that off far surpassed normal Yang Energy.

Sadly, when he tried it on his own, he couldn’t recapture that feeling of rallying his whole body’s energy. It was fleeting, like instinct reacting faster than thought, but he just couldn’t grasp it.

Based on his life so far—crazy cultivation and endless trial and error—those feelings are the key.

He’s failed so often by now, he’s developed a sense: you know it’s a dead end before you even try.

But he still tries every time, just to burn that ”nope” feeling into his brain. That way, if something critical happens and there’s no time to think, he’ll automatically avoid those mistakes.

Just like now—his go-to Seal Technique is Wave Calming, so familiar his hands move on their own, dodging mistakes, and landing the right sign every time.

At first, he thought it was the Holy Light’s doing. He sneakily peeked into the Nanwu chatter group to see if those folks had any hot tips, but, as usual, nothing useful at all.

Turns out, he probably needs the Demon Fox’s help—her power to guide his energy along.

When his experiments ended in failure, Wen Yan felt a little bummed out. After dinner, with nothing better to do, he went to the hospital to check in on the Demon Fox.

The Demon Fox’s new body was really too fragile—even though her stats had improved a little today, it was only a tiny bit.

Her whole life was hanging on thanks to Wen Yan’s help, forcibly Blood Locked, keeping her just above the minimum.

Good thing she used to be pretty strong. With her life on the edge, she could manage to slowly adapt by herself—at a speed way beyond a normal human’s.

If an ordinary person were in her shoes, even if they survived, the aftereffects would probably be brutal.

Wen Yan stuck to routine, feeding the Demon Fox some offerings morning and night to keep her above the danger line, then hung around to gossip for a bit.

When Wen Yan saw her go from lying there like a puddle of goo to tossing around in a feverish pose, he knew she was waking up.

Wen Yan just smiled, but didn’t give her away.

After all, once the Demon Fox got better, he’d be asking for her help with his cultivation.

Better keep things friendly.

”Alright, I’m heading out. You rest up and get better.

You got lucky—you know, with how awesome modern medicine is, you’ll be fine as long as you hang in there.”

There might be some lingering side effects, but you’ll recover in time. For you, honestly, it shouldn’t be a problem.