Martial Cultivator

In a rare moment of clarity, the middle-aged daoist gazed out over the sea with a strange expression. After a pause, he flicked his fingers and sent forth a snow-white lotus blossom, which bloomed at his fingertip before drifting forward.

It eventually landed upon the surface of the sea.

The lotus slowly grew larger, until it could support a person standing atop it.

The daoist walked to the edge of the shore. Watching the lotus drift farther from the coastline, he thought about it, but ultimately did not step onto it. Instead, he simply watched as the lotus left the coastline. But it merely floated away for several dozen feet when the sea suddenly surged. A massive beast leaped from the depths and devoured the lotus in a single gulp.

The middle-aged daoist’s expression remained unchanged. He stared at the giant deep sea beast, now only its dorsal fin visible, seemingly not surprised in the slightest.

In truth, aside from lacking a human form, that sea beast was no different from a Nepenthe existence.

And in this sea, no one knew how many such beasts there were.

If one were to gather just these creatures, they would likely outnumber all the great demons of the demon race in the North by a significant margin. However, as they had not taken on human form and had not awakened intelligence, even if they possessed power on par with Nepenthe cultivators, they were not particularly difficult to deal with.

Perhaps this was the way of Heaven, never allowing anything to be born flawless, always leaving some defect.

The middle-aged daoist could not help but recall the words: The Great Dao has flaws.

The Great Dao is long, and nearly all cultivators pursue the idea of perfection. But after all these years, who could truly say they had attained it?

Withdrawing his gaze, the middle-aged daoist looked down at the trail of footprints in the sand. He said nothing, only turned and walked toward the heart of the island.

Before long, he passed through a dense forest and came to a sheer cliff. In front of the cliff hung a vine, with faint green traces marking it.

It looked as though it had been there for a very long time.

The middle-aged daoist reached out and grabbed hold of the green vine, beginning to climb upward. No one knew how much time had passed, but when he looked down, the ground was no longer visible, and he was completely surrounded by white clouds.

The middle-aged daoist simply continued climbing. After an unknown amount of time, a cave dwelling appeared before his eyes, nestled within the sheer precipices and overhanging rocks.

The middle-aged daoist climbed inside. At the entrance of the cave dwelling was a worn-out meditation mat, and in a corner not far away lay a skeleton.

Although it was unclear how long that skeleton had existed, its entire structure had already undergone a transformation into jade, as if carved from white jade. Even though it rested in a corner, it still emitted a faint glow.

Judging from the condition of the skeleton alone, one could tell that it had belonged to a truly extraordinary great cultivator in life.

At the very least, it had to be an existence at the end of Nepenthe.

The middle-aged daoist sat cross-legged upon the worn-out meditation mat. Then, from beneath the mat, he retrieved a tattered notebook, flipped halfway through it, and began carefully studying its contents.

It was a cultivation journal left behind by someone from the past. No one knew how many years had passed, nor where the predecessor had come from. The journal only recorded the difficulties in cultivation that the predecessor had encountered and his own reflections on the Great Dao.

These writings brought great benefit to the middle-aged daoist.

Some of the insights were things he had never previously considered, they were entirely novel understandings.

It was precisely because of these understandings that he had become filled with confusion, sometimes clear-headed, other times confused.

Staring at the notebook in his hands, the middle-aged daoist remained silent for a long time before slowly lifting his head and looking forward. Outside the cave dwelling, drifting clouds obscured the view, making it impossible to see clearly.

The middle-aged daoist’s gaze was deep. The aura around him gradually became profound and subtle. It was an aura that hovered between Nepenthe and what lay above Nepenthe. It was complex and difficult to describe.

——

Xinliu Prefecture, where the entire province revered martial prowess.

The Great Liang Dynasty already had a deeply ingrained culture of martial valor, and in the current dynasty, that trend had only grown stronger. Among the Nine Provinces of Great Liang, White Deer Prefecture was regarded as the top for its scholarly culture, Yellow Dragon Prefecture was unmatched for sword cultivators, and Qingshan Prefecture had the largest number of cultivators.

Speaking of Xinliu Prefecture, there was no other place in the entire Great Liang that could compare to this prefecture’s martial ethos. Xinliu Prefecture bordered the desolate north, and the Northern Frontier Great Wall stood along its boundary. Because of this, most of the frontier troops were recruited from this region. After generations of accumulation, the number of people from Xinliu Prefecture who had died in battle at the Northern Frontier exceeded five hundred thousand. In this large prefecture, nearly one in every five households had someone who had once served in the army.

After virtually every great battle at the Northern Frontier, countless households in Xinliu Prefecture would hang white lanterns.

In such an atmosphere, the people of Xinliu Prefecture were even more inclined to have their children learn martial arts, hoping they would one day avenge their elders, rather than study literature to pursue fame and rank.

White Tree Town was located in the northern part of Xinliu Prefecture, only a few hundred miles from the walls of the Northern Frontier.

At first, this small town had around a thousand households, with a population of tens of thousands. But after several great wars, the population had dwindled to just over a hundred households. It was not because the townspeople had moved away, but because with each outbreak of war, many joined the army, and those who went to the frontier forces rarely returned. Naturally, the number of people shrank over time.

To the east of the town, there used to be a modest school. In past years, a teacher had taught the children basic literacy there, but as the number of children in the town steadily declined, the teacher could no longer find students and had no choice but to leave and seek a livelihood elsewhere.

For several years afterward, the school was nearly abandoned, all the way until a few years ago, when a young scholar came upon the place while traveling. Moved by compassion, he repaired the school and reopened it. Still, only a pitiful dozen or so children came to study there.

Fortunately, since His Majesty ascended the throne in the current reign, the imperial court had given considerable attention to Xinliu Prefecture. Attending school no longer required tuition, and even the teacher’s monthly wages were paid for by the prefectural and county offices. So the young teacher did not starve; it was just that he lived in poverty.

Looking after those few children could be considered finding joy amid hardship.

The young teacher’s surname was Su. He was a true native of the Divine Capital, though not from any noble family; just an ordinary commoner. In his early years, he had attempted to apply to the academy but failed. He spent a few years at a local school, took part in the imperial examinations. Although he did not fail outright, his ranking was very low. In the end, he had a chance to become a county magistrate, but he rejected the imperial court’s appointment and instead chose to travel the world. His original plan was to journey across the entire territory of Great Liang and write a travelogue. But upon arriving at this place, he found himself unable to take another step.

Over the years, this Tutor Su often lamented to himself, wondering when he would ever fulfill his lifelong wish. But every time the thought arose, a glance at those children would be enough to persuade him to wait a little longer.

However, watching over the school alone, there were times when Tutor Su also felt a bit lonely.

Until not long ago, a madman arrived in the town.

That madman had come from the south. Upon reaching White Tree Town and seeing the rows of white trees by the riverbank, he began muttering to himself, asking things like whether white trees were truly white, if they were born white, did that mean they were truly white?

White trees were a tree species unique to the north, said to have originated from the demon territories. They were very special. Though their trunks were the same as ordinary trees, their leaves were white as snow.

At first, Tutor Su did not take it seriously. But later, the madman wandered through White Tree Town, walking and stopping, until he fainted from hunger by the river. Tutor Su could not bear to ignore it, so he brought him back to the school and found some of his own clothes for the man to change into. Looking closely, the man actually did have a bit of a scholar’s appearance.

But the man had already gone mad. All day long, he either sat under the eaves rambling in words that Tutor Su could not understand at all, or he would go several days without speaking, silently gazing into the distance, often weeping uncontrollably for no reason.

Tutor Su thought perhaps the madman had experienced something he could not bear. At times, he would sigh while looking at the man, feeling pity for some unknown sorrow.

The two had been living together for nearly half a year by now, but Tutor Su still did not know the man’s name, nor had he found a way to contact any relatives. He had even brought a doctor from the town to treat him. The madman had taken medicine for half a year, and received acupuncture treatment seven or eight times, yet there was no sign of improvement.

Every time Tutor Su asked the doctor, the doctor would only shake his head.

There was nothing Tutor Su could do. He was soft-hearted by nature and could not just drive the man away.

Hence, they simply passed the days like this, one day after another.

Another day came. After finishing his lesson, Tutor Su watched the children leave, then stepped outside himself. He looked at the madman, who still said nothing and only stared into the distance. Only then did he drag over a bench and sit not far from him, sighing.

During today’s class, halfway through, Tutor Su had inadvertently thought again about his wish to write a travelogue. His mind wandered and he ended up quoting one of the sages’ sayings incorrectly.

He thought he should correct it during tomorrow’s lesson.

As he was thinking about this, Tutor Su suddenly noticed the estate report at the school’s entrance. It was a government bulletin issued by the prefecture and county offices, usually meant only for the county magistrate. But since the county office knew he was interested in such matters, they would leave him a copy.

Still, in this remote backwater, by the time the estate report arrived, it was anyone’s guess how many months old the news already was.

Therefore, Tutor Su could only use it as a way to pass the time.

He picked up the report, glanced through it, and raised his eyebrows. This time, there was something in it that caught his interest.