Cultivation Nerd-Chapter 344 - In Tiger’s Palm

After our little expedition, Song Song and I returned to the sect safely, having caught beasts like Pokémon and stuffed them all into the silver mirror.

Winter had come in full swing now. Snow blanketed everything, piling two feet high atop the walls surrounding the sect. It was late December, and the year was drawing to a close.

Normally, the beast waves would’ve flattened the snow by now, but with none in sight, outer disciples were assigned to clear it as “training.”

As an inner elder, that kind of manual labor had nothing to do with me. Still, several of my outer-sect students had been reassigned, forcing me to hold extra classes so they could catch up once their shifts were done.

I sighed at the injustice, leaning back in my old rocking chair, breathing in the scent of fresh grass from the spring array that kept my yard green year-round.

As a wise man once said: Corruption is only bad when I’m not involved in it.

I chuckled to myself.

How many new memes have come out since 2024, anyway?

“You seem to be in a good mood today, teacher,” Jiang Yeming said as she approached.

In the backyard, Tingfeng trained blindfolded, a bandana tied across his eyes as he practiced sensing Qi. He’d been at it for hours, muttering quietly to himself, occasionally tripping over a rock and pretending it didn’t happen.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yeming lingered nearby as usual, always calm, always sharp, and always avoiding Wu Yan like she carried the plague.

Still, what she thought about the others wasn’t my concern. As a student, she’d done remarkably well, reaching eight-star Qi Gathering.

Her progress was impressive, though not quite what I’d expected given all her advantages. Which meant she was likely doing what few geniuses ever bothered with, building a solid foundation. My guess? She was planning to change her elemental path from her previous life, carefully building her comprehension from scratch.

It was admirable, honestly. For once, someone actually listened to my advice to slow down.

Wu Yan and Tingfeng both nodded whenever I told them that and then did the exact opposite behind my back.

Wu Yan, at least, had a body that could handle the strain. Tingfeng… less so. But he was talented in his own way, instinctively grasping the flow of battle like a natural-born swordsman.

He’d reached five-star Qi Gathering, mostly by swinging his sword all day. However, under my guidance, he had recently started using the efficient cultivation method, and his improvement was noticeable.

“Teacher? Are you zoning me out again?” Jiang Yeming pouted, crossing her arms.

“No, of course not,” I said smoothly, lying through my teeth. “I’m just lamenting and crying at the tragedy of having disciples who hide things from me.”

She stayed cool as a cucumber when I said that. But she was smart enough to know I was talking about her.

But she still had the gall to look me straight in the eyes and say, 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

“I don’t see any tears. What do you mean by crying?”

“Crying internally. In my soul,” I said, trying to come up with something that sounded reasonable.

Despite my mock sadness, I was genuinely impressed by her Qi concealment. If I hadn’t developed my own sensory methods and if I hadn’t sensed her Qi the first time I touched her shoulder back when she became my disciple, I might not have been able to see through her veil at all.

The sad part was that since then, Jiang Yeming hadn’t actually improved. Her technique felt borrowed, refined by someone else long ago, not her own work.

Sure, it made sense. She was from the future. But was she really planning to let herself be limited by that? What would happen when the present eventually caught up to the future she came from?

She’d go from being a prodigy ahead of her time… to just another average cultivator.

That was why I’d let her know, indirectly, that I could sense her Qi. I wanted her to adapt, to push herself to develop her own methods. It would help her, and it would also help me, as studying her progress could refine my own sensory techniques.

I’d expected her to make improvements by early winter, but with no progress or effort, it was starting to get worrying.

“You really need to get off my back about this,” she pouted. “You never complain this much about Tingfeng.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Because Tingfeng, while not as monstrously talented as Song Song, had something even rarer, he had a good mindset.

I was fairly sure he’d already seen through Jiang Yeming’s Qi veil, but just didn’t care enough to say anything.

“Tingfeng has reached five-star Qi Gathering,” I explained. “And he works perfectly fine on his own. He’s the kind of person who, if he were born a few dozen millennia ago, would’ve revolutionized cultivation itself.”

He had an uncanny ability to hit a Trace on his Earth Grade Techniques. And unlike me, who slowed time perception to increase the chances, he did it purely on instinct.

It was a shame I wasn’t the best teacher for him. He wasn’t much of a scholar, and I wasn’t much of a sword master. But maybe the perfect teacher for that kind of person didn’t exist in the first place.

“Between Wu Yan, Tingfeng, and myself, it feels like I’m your least favorite student,” Jiang Yeming sighed.

She was.

Not because I cared less for her, but because she wasn’t as inspiring as the others. The future had shackled her, dulled her edge, and limited her creativity.

Wu Yan amazed me with what her body could do. Tingfeng impressed me with what his mind could grasp.

Ironically, the time traveler was the most boring one here.

From the corner of my senses, I felt Wu Yan emerging from the silver mirror in the library basement. Her Qi flickered with intensity as she was at the peak, ready to break through to Core Formation any day now. Still, she chose to consolidate her cultivation instead of rushing forward.

“You’re not my least favorite disciple,” I told Jiang Yeming after a long pause. “It just feels like your path is already written in stone, and there’s nothing I can do to help you.”

Honestly, I still didn’t understand why she had sought me out in the first place. If she’d shown even a slight inclination toward arrays, maybe it would’ve made sense. At first, I thought she’d come to get close to Wu Yan, but that wary, almost fearful look she got whenever she was near her made it clear that wasn’t the case.

Sighing, I stood from my chair and stretched, bones popping like firecrackers.

Everyone was catching up to me. My barely above-average talent was finally showing its limits, and being surrounded by prodigies only made that more obvious.

“That so?” Jiang Yeming murmured. “Well, it seems like you’re not in a talkative mood today, so I’ll leave you alone, teacher.”

She turned to leave, rubbing her hands together, bracing herself for the cold beyond the spring array that kept my garden lush.

“Always question things that don’t make sense!” I called after her.

“Huh?” Jiang Yeming turned, tilting her head.

One thing was certain: the future me had somehow tricked her. Maybe others had too. Whoever used the method that sent her back, whether it was her body or just her memories, had their own purpose.

But even if the future version of me could send someone through time, I knew myself well enough to be sure of one thing: I wouldn’t have done it. That kind of gesture, sending someone to fix regrets, wasn’t my style.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Just think about it,” I said. “Contemplate those words, and your future.”

Even in the worst scenarios I could imagine, like Song Song losing her body to possession, I still wouldn’t meddle with time. That wouldn’t be saving her; it would be saving someone who only looked like her.

That was the logic I lived by. Which meant, with myself eliminated from suspicion, there were still too many possibilities left.

The heavens wouldn’t break balance by allowing time travel. It was too dangerous, too disruptive.

So maybe I was thinking about it the wrong way. Perhaps no one had traveled back in time at all. Maybe someone in the present used an immortal-grade divination technique, something powerful enough to make her believe she’d regressed.

There were countless possibilities.

But there was one thing I was almost a hundred percent sure of: Jiang Yeming hadn’t come here by accident. Someone had sent her back, hoping to change something.

Jiang Yeming walked away, and though she acted like she’d taken my words seriously, I wasn’t sure how much of that was actually true.

From the edge of my senses, I felt Fu Yating approaching. She carried a tray with two steaming cups of tea, her steps soft against the grass. Without a word, she handed me one, kept the other for herself, then nudged the tray toward me.

I took it and slipped it into my storage ring, planning to return it later so she wouldn’t have to carry it back.

We’d grown used to each other’s rhythm, often communicating through small gestures rather than words.

“I’m thinking that we should try to help you regain your cultivation soon,” I said.

“That’s quite something to drop on a girl out of nowhere,” she replied calmly, sipping her tea and letting out a soft breath. “And how exactly do you plan to do something like that?”

“Cultivating slowly has its charms,” I said, “but at this rate, I’ll die before ever reaching Nascent Soul. I’m unlikely to even touch the peak of Core Formation.”

“Well, that didn’t answer my question at all,” she said with a faint, amused smile. “But I suppose secrecy is second nature to you by now. Still, I always thought you were the patient type, the kind who could endure this for a long while.”

I smiled at her teasing. “It’s safer to start searching now, before I reach the end of my lifespan.”

Whether I’d ever reach the higher realms didn’t really matter. Curiosity drove me more than ambition. There was only so much one could learn from books or from listening to Song Song describe things I hadn’t experienced firsthand.

It was inevitable that I’d want to feel it for myself.

“Do you at least have a plan to get your hands on these things?” she asked.

I nodded, thinking of Ye An.

“On the path to finding something that could increase my cultivation talent, I’ll likely stumble upon something that can help you recover what you’ve lost,” I told her.

“Wow, so my condition’s just an afterthought to you,” she said dryly. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Of course, the chances of success were slim, but I didn’t say that out loud.