Cultivation Nerd-Chapter 237: There is Honey in the Moon

Days passed since my return, and Fu Yating eventually became a part of my everyday life.

Surprisingly, she had been far less of a nuisance than I'd expected.

I sat in a meditative position on the wooden floor of my room, exhaling slowly as the Qi inside my dantian bubbled up, spreading through my veins like glass cracking under pressure. For a split second, there was that sharp, jagged sensation, and then it melted away and was replaced by a blissful lightness, like floating in a lukewarm spring.

Yep, I'd finally broken through to five-star Qi Gathering.

Not exactly a surprise. I'd felt it coming for days, like standing on the edge of a threshold, waiting to take the next step.

Honestly, it felt more anticlimactic than I imagined. When Wu Yan broke through, she made a whole spectacle of it. However, I guess there was also a sense of danger with her since she might accidentally crush her own cultivation.

The door creaked open. Fu Yating slipped inside, unannounced as always, with a broad smile plastered on her face. Despite her innocent demeanor, she carefully lingered just inside the doorway, waiting until I acknowledged her presence.

"How was your cultivation session? I brought you some tea," she chirped, all sweet and cutesy. A little too sweet, which probably meant one of my parents was lurking nearby, eavesdropping.

I shrugged and stood, brushing off the lingering Qi buzz. "I broke through a minor stage today. So yeah, my day's off to a good start."

"Oh! That's wonderful!" Her eyes lit up wide with delight. Over the top, as usual.

I took the teacup from the tray and sipped. As the liquid warmed my throat, I directed a tendril of Qi inward, weaving it through the tea's essence to analyze every component.

Hmm… caffeine, catechins, antioxidants cleansing my blood. L-Theanine, calming my mind. Tannins, binding impurities...

By the time the tea had settled in my stomach, I had closed my eyes and controlled my Qi to another degree, weaving a net to trap every drop of liquid. The Eight Mind Phantoms Technique spun calculations in the background, working seamlessly without the migraines or nosebleeds it used to cause.

No toxins. No poison. Just herbs, some with mild toxins naturally found in plants. Barely enough to harm a cat, let alone someone like me.

The same as always.

Every meal, every drink, every snack she brought, it all came back clean. Not a trace of poison. Was my technique faulty? Or had Fu Yating genuinely never tried to harm me?

I opened my eyes, meeting her gaze. Her smile didn't waver.

"You know," I said, swirling the tea in my cup, "I always wonder if you've poisoned me. It's impressive how much effort you put into this morning routine."

Her smile froze for a fraction of a second. Then, she giggled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're such a worrier."

And yet, her hands never trembled.

She narrowed her eyes, her smile slipping as she shut the door behind her. “Why would I try something like that? You’re literally my only lifeline. Your mother likes me, sure, but I doubt she’d give it a second thought before having me killed if there was even a hint of suspicion that I had something to do with your death.”

Okay, that made a lot of sense. Annoyingly so.

But still, couldn’t she at least pretend to be more emotional about all this? I was developing a new technique here, for heaven’s sake! And here she was, throwing cold logic at me after calling me the one with the emotional range of a puppet.

“Besides,” she continued, folding her arms, “Even if they loved me like their own daughter, do you really think your parents have the kind of pull to convince your crazy goober of a grandpa and the rest of his merry gang to spare me?”

She wasn’t wrong there.

Behind my parents, Fu Yating was probably the one most invested in keeping me alive.

I sighed, trying to suppress a smirk. “If I were in your position, I would’ve at least slipped some laxatives into my food. You know, to keep me on my toes.”

“And have you get even more annoyed with me?” She arched a brow, her tone laced with dry humor. “Besides… why do I get the feeling you’re upset that I haven’t tried to poison you?”

“You’re imagining it,” I muttered.

She rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced.

“Anyway, any news from the war front?” I stood, brushing off my clothes and making sure they still fit properly. I’d hit a bit of a growth spurt recently, and my wardrobe hadn’t quite kept up. Maybe it was time to update it. “We might have to run if anything sketchy starts brewing.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” she said, placing the tea tray on my plain wooden desk with practiced care, avoiding my books. Her expression shifted, growing more serious as she met my eyes without flinching. “Your mother said some of the cultivators returned today. They brought news.”

I tensed. “What kind of news?”

She didn’t blink. “The Liu Clan won. They slaughtered the other two clans.”

My stomach twisted, and the unknown pressure on my shoulders lifted.

“And?”

Her tone remained steady. “Now your family manages three large cities and a handful of smaller ones. It’s… quite a bit of territory.”

I stared at her, watching for any flicker of tension, any shift in her posture that might reveal what she was really thinking.

Nothing. She seemed completely at ease.

Too at ease.

“That’s… good news,” I said slowly. “For most of us.”

She nodded. “My mother-in-law said the same thing. And now your father can go back to trading, and you can return to the Blazing Sun Sect once the snow thaws.”

Fuck.

She really was a good actor, too good. The way she casually dropped that bombshell, like we were discussing the weather.

“Mother-in-law?” I echoed, raising a brow.

“Yes, mother-in-law,” she said with a perfectly sweet smile. “I hope you’re not planning to leave me behind. Because this engagement that you clearly don’t care about? It’s the only thing keeping me alive.”

There was a threatening glint in her smile, the kind that promised pain.

Fu Yating wasn’t just a survivor; she was the type to take everyone down with her if things went south. Talk about a vindictive bitch. But, for now, she was my vindictive bitch, and she had a very explicit interest in keeping me alive.

“You have it easy,” she said, her eyes narrowing like a hawk. “If anything goes wrong, you could just run off to that secret lover of yours.”

“Secret lover?” I raised a brow. We weren’t even in a relationship, and here I was, getting the whole suspicious-girlfriend experience.

“You know, the one with the crazy eyes? Uses blood in a lot of her techniques? The one who started all the killing during the tournament between the great sects?” she elaborated, clearly fishing for a reaction.

“You mean Song Song?” I shook my head, smiling. “You really don’t know her well enough. Wait, no. You lived with us for a bit. You do know how that situation works.”

She gave a knowing nod. “Yeah. But my point still stands.”

Then she tilted her head, that hawkish look returning. “Also, I meant secret lover as a metaphor.”

I frowned. “Then I don’t think you know how metaphors work.”

She shrugged it off as if I were the one missing the point. We kept chatting or rather, she kept chatting, about all the women in my life. Wu Yan, Song Song, Ye An, even my cousin Liu Qian. I was getting the full, passive-aggressive interrogation, one name at a time.

Honestly, it was starting to remind me of a girl I briefly dated back in college during my previous life. Same suspicious questions. Same territorial vibes. Luckily, I still had a bit of that old instinct left, the one that let me zone out while letting the girl vent until she calmed down. At least Fu Yating wasn’t throwing kitchenware at my head while cursing at me.

By the time we made it downstairs to the kitchen, the smell of breakfast already filled the air. But someone was already there.

Liu Bo?

He stood by the table, his posture stiff, his left arm in a cast and an eyepatch covering his left eye.

I blinked. “Good morning, cousin. You… look better.”

“Sorry for showing up unannounced,” Liu Bo said, his tone rather formal. Something he had developed during the war. “But some big news came in, and I know you don’t usually go out.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. He made me sound like some shut-in weeb who hadn’t touched grass in years.

He got straight to business, confirming everything Fu Yating had already told me, except his version came with more details. As expected, the Liu Clan had suffered astronomical losses while taking over the two new cities.

It sounded like a victory on the surface. But I knew better.

It was a waste of life.

Our forces were too weakened to hold on to those cities for long. Hell, we might even struggle to hold our own city when the next winter’s beast wave came.

Hopefully, we won’t have to worry about this winter. News traveled slowly during the colder months since nobody moved between cities. It would be a while before any local powers learned just how weakened the Liu Clan had become after all this.

“Well, if you need anything, don’t be afraid to come and ask,” I said as Liu Bo made his way to the door.

He nodded once and left without a word. Typical. I liked him more when he was all joyful and joking.

There were plenty of things about this situation that concerned me. But worrying about them wouldn’t change anything. I stepped outside, letting the crisp air clear my mind.

The worst of winter had passed. The sun was out, the grass was greener, and the birds chirped like they’d never left. Animals were coming out of hibernation, which meant monster waves were next to impossible for the next few seasons. A small comfort, but I’d take it.

I took a deep breath, stretching my arms toward the sky, loosening muscles that had been stiff from too much sitting. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Wu Yan on the porch, cross-legged in meditation. She wasn’t cultivating in the traditional sense but more like training her Qi control, which wasn’t exactly her strong suit.

“Want to spar?” I called out to Fu Yating, who was lingering nearby. Despite losing her cultivation, I wasn’t about to let her slack off.

She perked up immediately, giving me a nod. I hadn’t expected to need much convincing. Fu Yating wasn’t the type to wallow in setbacks. If anything, she seemed more determined after getting knocked down.

We squared off in the yard, taking our positions on opposite sides.

Speedy, the lazy bastard, barely stirred from his spot by the pond. He raised his head, yawned, and lazily flicked his gaze toward us before settling on Fu Yating with a look that said, Really? Again?

Fu Yating gave him a glance but kept her focus on me. “Are you going to go easy on me this time?” freēnovelkiss.com

I grinned. “I always go easy.”

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I launched forward, moving at top speed.

Fu Yating reacted immediately, trying to sidestep, but we both knew she didn’t stand a chance. Our difference in speed was too vast. Still, credit where it was due, she’d gotten better. Over time, she’d learned to anticipate my movements, maybe not through sight but by instinct. She wasn’t fast enough to dodge, but she was starting to feel the rhythm of a fight.

By the time her eyes tracked where I was, I’d already closed the gap and placed my hand on her shoulder.

Our gazes met.

She sighed, brushing my hand aside.

“Useless,” she muttered, frustration bubbling under the surface.

“It won’t be useless when you regain your cultivation,” I reassured her, already running through a list of techniques in my mind. There were plenty that would suit her. The problem was, I didn’t trust her enough to teach her those techniques.

“It’s not like your spiritual roots were damaged,” I continued. “You never reached Qi Gathering, so your core wasn’t shattered. It’s your physical body that took the hit. That’s much easier to heal.”

Fu Yating shook her head, crossing her arms. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Women already have a harder time breaking past Body Tempering,” she said bitterly. “This… this is crippling.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off with a sharp, dismissive gesture.

“I’m done.”

Fu Yating stared at the green grass, her expression somber. But, as always, it was hard to tell if she was genuinely sad or just putting on another act.

"Wow," I teased, breaking the silence. "And here I thought you'd have a bit more hope, considering we can only have kids once you reach Qi Gathering."

Her gaze flicked toward me, her face unreadable.

I didn't really care much about having kids either, but throwing in a comment like that could be revealing. People had a harder time hiding their surprise when faced with something… inappropriate.

She studied me for a long moment, her eyes narrowing. "You don't seem particularly distraught or worried about that, dear husband…"

Ah, there it was, the passive-aggressiveness.

She was sharp, always searching for hidden meanings like a hawk hunting prey.

“Am I really that easy to read?”

"Both yes and no," she continued, her voice steady. "When we first met and discussed this… I was sure you found the idea of being with me repulsive. But now? I've seen no signs of you being a degenerate who prefers men. So, what's going on inside that dome of yours?"

Without warning, she swung a wooden sword at my neck. She had hidden the weapon in her loose robes.

I leaned back, dodging the swing by a hair's breadth. "So, is that a yes or a no?"

"Sometimes, trying to figure out what someone's thinking is pointless," she said, taking another swing, her tone calm. "People often delude themselves into images that don't fit. I pay more attention to actions than words."

I smirked. "That was the most roundabout, non-answer I've ever heard."

She shrugged, her attacks growing sharper, more precise. "What I'm saying is, people are complicated. Even if I think I've read you like a book, that would be naive. Hell, most people don't always know who they are."

Despite the increase in precision, she was still far too slow for me.

I dodged her strikes with minimal effort, weaving through her attacks until I gently placed a hand on her shoulder, which was our usual sign that I could've ended the fight at any time.

She sighed, brushing my hand off.

"Though, I'll admit," she said quietly, "Thinking about how my future husband isn't satisfied with plain-old me, and running off to find comfort in the arms of another woman does get to me."

"Stop being so melodramatic," I said with a groan. "You clearly don't want kids either. So why not relax and enjoy this fake relationship? You get to live. I get to avoid some arranged marriage to some other girl half my age who I've never even met."

Fu Yating's lips twitched into a smirk. "You're not even in your twenties. You realize there's a chance they'd find you a wife who hasn't even been born yet, right?"

I winced. "Okay, that's enough."

She chuckled softly.

But the teasing only lasted a moment before her expression turned serious again.

"Truthfully… you're right. I don't want kids right now. I've said that before. But at the same time…" Her gaze lingered on me, searching for something I wasn't sure I had. "A Qi Gathering Cultivator has more control over their future. I'd have some say in what happens next."

She threw her wooden sword to the ground and shifted into hand-to-hand combat without missing a beat.

"And honestly?" she continued, throwing a quick jab. "Who wouldn't be reluctant to give up the Azure Frost Sect techniques just to become some boring housewife?"

I dodged her strike and met her next attack with a block.

"Exactly," I said. "It'd be a waste."

Fu Yating didn’t stop. Her attacks kept coming, though there was less force behind them now.

"But if I had to give it all up…" she said, voice quieter, "I'd rather do it with you than with some random old man. Or some idiot my age."

I arched a brow.

That sounded sweet, but it didn't mean anything if you read between the lines. It was the same as me saying that if I ever wanted kids, having them with Fu Yating would be more convenient since we were already married.

Still, she'd phrased it better than I ever could.

“Can you still use any of the Azure Frost Sect techniques?” I asked, weaving around her lunges with ease.

Fu Yating paused to think before shaking her head. “No. But I can tell you about them. Most of the ones I know are made for women anyway.”

I dodged another strike and smirked. “I’m not looking to copy them. I’ve got my own techniques.”

She rolled her eyes but continued. “The first and most basic technique we learn is the Ice Lotus Palm. It generates a cold wind and can be lethal on contact if used right. It’s a Mortal Grade Technique, a good one for its grade, but nothing special.”

She went on, describing the other basic techniques she’d learned. It was fascinating to hear how the Azure Frost Sect operated compared to the Blazing Sun Sect. Their approach was… structured. Sophisticated. They taught students defensive, offensive, and movement techniques in a controlled, step-by-step manner, almost like a proper school.

By comparison, the Blazing Sun Sect was the Wild West. You learned whatever you could get your hands on. Survival of the fittest. No hand-holding.

Then she mentioned something that made me pause. “There’s another technique they teach… to women with above-average talent. It’s called the Frozen Womb Technique.”

I raised a brow. “The what?”

Fu Yating didn’t flinch. “It does exactly what it sounds like. It doesn’t actually freeze anything. It just removes a woman’s ability to have children for as long as she practices the technique.”

I blinked, trying to process that.

What kind of lunatic comes up with something like that?

The technique seemed… absurd. There was no way I could see how something like that would logically boost cultivation speed. Which made me wonder…

Could it be a Sky Grade Technique that had been downgraded after too many people started using it?

Sky Grade Techniques weren’t just stronger versions of Earth Grade Techniques. They were fundamentally different. They created their own internal logic, warping the normal rules of cultivation.

Take my Dancing Jade Armor, for example. It hardened my Qi into a jade-like defensive shell. At its core, it was a natural extension of Qi, just taken to an extreme. You could see the logic behind it. Hardened Qi equals armor. Simple.

But then there was Eight Mind Phantoms. That technique was different. It could trap someone in their own mind, deliver mental shocks, and even read thoughts to a certain extent. That wasn’t something Qi could do on its own. There was no logical progression from “energy” to “mind control.”

The closest comparison would be my Bloodlust Release technique, but that was more of a psychological trick. A way to intimidate, puff myself up, and project a more dangerous aura. It wasn’t actual mental interference. More like a magician’s sleight of hand.

So how did techniques like Eight Mind Phantoms, or maybe even Frozen Womb, come to exist?

People had to be creating these Sky Grade Techniques. But even now, I couldn’t comprehend how anyone just… came up with something like that. It was beyond me. I had to admit my ignorance. This was all speculation. No solid facts. Just theories.

Well, whatever. I’ll think about it later.

Fu Yating let out a tired sigh and collapsed onto the grass, lying on her back. Her hair clung to her damp forehead, sweat trickling down her neck. She was clearly exhausted, and we hadn’t even been sparring for a full hour.

I walked over and offered her my hand.

She took it without a word, letting me pull her to her feet.

“Why does it feel like you’re still faster, even when we’re moving at the same speed?” Fu Yating asked, brushing grass off her sleeves.

“Does it?” I smirked.

“Yes,” she said, frowning. “Every counter you throw doesn’t seem that fast… but I still can’t react in time.”

“Ah.” I chuckled, memories of countless beatdowns flooding back. “I know exactly what you mean. Song Song used to wipe the floor with me using the same trick.”

Fu Yating raised an eyebrow. “So it’s a trick?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “It’s a rhythm. A fighting rhythm that messes with your perception. I haven’t mastered it, but I’ve managed to copy bits and pieces from her. Talented people can pull it off naturally. The rest of us have to learn it the hard way.” I gave her a knowing look. “And trust me, it hurts to learn it the hard way.”

I helped her to her feet, watching her dust herself off.

Explaining this concept was tricky. There wasn’t a perfect way to describe it because, at the end of the day, it came down to talent and talent couldn’t be taught.

Still, I gave it a shot.

“Okay,” I said, “tighten all the muscles in your body like you’re bracing for an avalanche to smash into you.”

She tilted her head. “An avalanche?”

“Just do it.”

I extended my palm toward her.

“Now, punch my hand.”

Without hesitation, Fu Yating threw a punch. Her eagerness betrayed a moment of weakness. Proof that, despite her earlier frustration, she hadn’t truly given up. There was still a spark of hope in her.

Her form was good. Much better than when we’d first started sparring. But as her fist hit my palm, there was no real pushback.

“Not bad,” I said, shaking my hand out. “But you unconsciously relaxed the rest of your body when you threw that punch.”

“Huh.” She blinked, then shrugged. “Okay, so?”

“Flow with the punch,” I explained. “Keep your muscles tight, and don’t second-guess yourself. You’ll make mistakes, sure. But if you hesitate, you’ll mess up the rhythm.”

She stared at me, skeptical. “That’s it? Just… don’t hesitate?”

I grinned. “Yeah. But don’t use this in a real fight until you’ve figured it out. It’s more about finding your own rhythm, not copying mine. You don’t have to imprison yourself in my way of thinking. Experiment. Make it your own.”

A part of me hoped she’d show some unexpected breakthrough. So far, Fu Yating hadn’t revealed any hidden martial talents. No sudden bursts of brilliance.

But I couldn’t help but wonder. What if she had been holding back all along?

That would’ve been fascinating. I could’ve learned so much from that.

It struck me then how much I missed sparring with Song Song.

Training with her had been a constant cycle of growth. Every day, she pointed out my mistakes, pushed me to improve, and stayed just one step ahead, no matter how hard I tried to catch up.

Without her around, it felt like I’d hit a plateau.

There was no daily pressure to catch up. No borrowed experience to rely on.

“So, you’re one of the talented ones,” Fu Yating sighed, breaking my thoughts.

I blinked. “What?”

“You’re going on and on about rhythm and fighting instinct…” She shook her head, feigning exasperation. “Never thought you were the bragging type. Why go through all that effort just to say you’re talented?”

I laughed.

Despite her words, I knew she was just fishing for a reaction. Typical Fu Yating. Always poking at me to see what would stick.

"Compared to the people around here, it might give the illusion that I'm talented," I chuckled. "But the real monsters out there? They don't need to think things through in battle. Their bodies react before their minds do. It's instinct."

"Oh, okay." Fu Yating nodded thoughtfully, then tilted her head. "So… what do you think about my talent?"

"Fighting talent?"

"Of course. What else would I be asking about?" Her tone had that familiar passive-aggressive edge again.

"Okay, no need to get snippy."

I gave her a once-over, trying to figure out how to answer without sounding too harsh.

Something realistic… but not too offensive.

"You're good at scheming," I said. "Especially for someone your age. But your fighting talent… well, it leaves a lot to be desired."

Her face went blank. "Okay…"

"What I'm saying is that your fighting talent is kinda trashy."

"You didn't need to repeat it as an insult," she grumbled. “I understood it the first time.”

I smirked. "I learned how to be passive-aggressive from a certain someone."

"Which part of calling someone 'trashy' is passive?" she snapped, narrowing her eyes. "Also, I know you only do this because I'm weak."

"Well, duh. Only a fool would bully the strong."

Her mouth opened like she was about to argue, but she closed it again, narrowing her eyes like a fox plotting revenge.

That look promised untold pain.

I liked this side of her better. The directness suited her more than her usual roundabout ways.

Okay, maybe I could've worded it better than "trashy." But it was the truth.

Fu Yating had no natural instinct for fighting.

Still, that didn't matter much in this world. No matter how good your instincts were, if your opponent had a higher cultivation stage or better techniques, you were done for. All the fighting talent in the world wouldn't save you from a Nascent Soul Cultivator's slap.

After a moment, Fu Yating seemed to let it go, and we got back to training like usual.

As expected, she didn't last long, and soon we both ran inside. I went to my room to cultivate, and she joined my mother in the kitchen to help prepare dinner.

The wind outside howled, rattling the windows as I sat cross-legged on the floor.

I tried to focus on circulating my Qi, but my mind kept wandering back to Fu Yating's words.

Talent…

I'd given her advice. Shown her techniques. Seen her improve in small ways. But the truth was, if Fu Yating were a Qi Gathering Cultivator right now, she could probably kill me with a sneak attack.

Fighting talent or not, a blade to the back or a punch I couldn't dodge would end me just as easily as someone with years of training.

Even if I could hear the wind shift or sense the slightest movement at my back, it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't be fast enough to react.

Was that why she'd thrown that sneaky punch earlier? Testing whether she could assassinate me at normal speed?

I wouldn't put it past her. She was smart like that.

The thought made me grin. Not because I believed it; it was unlikely she would do something reckless, but I enjoyed imagining such scenarios and trying to think how I would get out of them.

Fuck, I was bored.