What do you mean I'm a cultivator?-Chapter 16

As the familiar plains stretched before him, Jiang Cheng let out a small groan, not looking forward to working all day, every day upon his return to the falling star sect.

The valley's abundant Qi and diverse flora had been a welcome respite, but now it was back to the travel across the open landscape. Still, he had completed his primary mission and gathered additional herbs that might prove useful. As long as he could find any alchemy books that is.

Nonetheless, it was a small victory that lightened his steps despite the tedium that lay ahead.

By midday, the sun beat down relentlessly. Jiang paused in the shade of a lone tree, one of the few that dotted the otherwise barren plains. After quenching his thirst, his eyes were drawn to the tree's branches. The wood looked sturdy yet workable, perfect for another attempt at carving.

With a precise application of Qi, he severed a branch about the length of his forearm. Unlike his previous attempts, this time he selected his material more carefully, choosing a section with minimal knots and a relatively even grain. The branch fell cleanly into his waiting hand, with a soft thud.

As he once again walked through the plains, making his way back, step by step, the scenery his lone companion, Jiang Cheng Started sculpting the branch with his knife, once again making his think that he had been unprepared. Sure. he had brought enough food and the purification token, but he wasn't prepared in the true sense.

No rope to aid him in case he fell in some hole. No matches. And certainly not the handy knife the sect had in the Satchel he was provided.

He had a lot to learn. Sure, when he got strong enough, he might not have a need for a rope. perhaps he could walk on air, or even fly. But it never hurt to be prepared, and careful.

"Control and consistency." he reminded himself, extending his Qi-infused knife over the wood, cutting and sculpting the branch, into another sphere.

This time, he worked a bit more methodically. Rather than trying to shape the entire piece at once, he focused on removing small sections in a rotating pattern around the branch. His Qi flowed more smoothly now, perhaps benefiting from the days of meditation in the valley, the break for the usual motivating him.

Tiny shavings fell to the ground as he worked, each cut more precise than he had managed before.

Despite his clear unfamiliarity with carving and sculpting, mundane tasks were no match for a cultivator. After all, Cultivators were superior to the average mortal even by just stepping in the first stage of Qi condensation.

The mere existence of Qi in one's dantian slowly pushed the body past its original limits. This was how despite some cultivators remaining even in their teen years, could exert nearly all of their power, despite their body not having developed completely.

Of course, such irregularities were found in the so called "heaven defying geniuses" that one of his thoughts kindly brought to his attention.

At least it was slowly getting easier. it seemed the thoughts he had, random as they were, were becoming more focused and rare, as his cultivation soared.

The afternoon passed by as Cheng continued his work. Occasionally, he would pause to examine his progress, rotating the gradually forming sphere between his hands, identifying areas that needed more attention. When he made mistakes, he adjusted his approach rather than starting over, incorporating the flaws into his design, instead of trying to fix them, only to make the mistake bigger.

As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, Jiang held up his creation for final inspection. The sphere was still imperfect. Slightly elongated on one side and with a small depression where he had removed too much material, but it was a significant improvement over his previous attempts. The surface was smoother, the overall shape more consistent.

"Better, I guess." he muttered, still not happy about failing again, tucking the wooden sphere into his satchel alongside his other failed attempts.

No. He realized. They were not failed attempts. They all had equal effort put into them. Failure was the wrong word. They were more like markers. Physical signs of his improvement.

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After all, if they were truly failures, he should have thrown them away the second he realized so. But no. They were not failed. Merely imperfect.

Perhaps, he should think of his own cultivation this way. Sure he might make mistakes in the future. But it was natural. He would get better and better with time.

He resumed his westward journey, walking until twilight painted the sky in deepening shades of purple. Finding a suitable spot for camp settling for a slight depression in the ground that offered minimal protection from the wind.

After starting a small fire with dried grasses and the few twigs he'd gathered along the way, Jiang arranged his belongings and consumed another satiation pill. The familiar routine brought a sense of order to the day's end.

As he prepared for his evening meditation, Jiang found himself less concerned about the timeline of his return journey. He had completed the herb gathering way too quick. Barely a day, and not only he had found the required herbs, but the five herbs indicated in the additional reward, in the mission paper.

It was weird, now that he sat down and thought about it. With the way the mission was written, one would think it would take days of effort to find enough. Was this something unique to himself? did his supposed higher perception? the same that allowed him to see in Elder Feng's terrorizing, hidden presence?

As he sat down, he decided to pack things differently. Aside from the five Cloud lotus and three spirit grass, as well as one of the five optional herbs, aside from the whispreed, he packed the extras in his robes, each in their own little neat packet, hidden in his robes.

After all ,the sect didn't say anything about not keeping anything else brought back home. He then remembered to also bring some wood for repairing his wooden cabin. Surely that must be allowed right?

The night settled around him, the plains growing quiet save for the occasional distant call of a night bird, and the soft crackle of his fire. Without the valley's concentrated Qi, his meditation proceeded more slowly, but Jiang maintained his focus, directing energy through his meridians with practiced discipline.

A interesting distinction, was that the Qi in the valley, felt...fresh. Perhaps due to higher concentration of earth and...nature? yes. seems plausible. Perhaps cultivating in the sea, would give the Qi a more...watery feeling?

This was interesting to speculate. he really needed to start writing things down. yes. perhaps when he gets back, he should really start writing down his thoughts.

Under the vast canopy of stars, Jiang Cheng rested, not worried about his timeline or destination.

As the midday sun continued to beat down, Jiang Cheng's mind wandered to the curious absence of wildlife during his journey.

The plains stretched endlessly, devoid of any animal movement, At least close enough to him. That, he understood, as he theorized, unlike Elder fend, and supposedly any other higher cultivators, he either didn't know how to hide his presence, being like a warning beacon to any animal to steer clear of him.

Or he didn't know some kind of Qi based technique. The idea of him just not being a high enough realm, and hiding one's pretense came naturally to higher ranked cultivators did cross his mind too.

So many plausible things. So many things to think, an dyet no such time for his thoughts, or the weirder ones.

There was no scurrying rodents, no bird calls closely, and certainly not even the buzz of insects.

He paused in his carving, turning the half-formed wooden object between his fingers.

This time, instead of a sphere, he was attempting to shape something more deliberate - a rough knife handle, something practical. His Qi flowed through the blade, guiding each careful cut with increasing precision.

"Is this intentional?" he muttered to himself. The complete absence of life seemed too uniform to be natural. Perhaps the sect's territory extended further than he had initially understood. Maybe there was some protective formation, some unseen barrier that kept wildlife at bay. Or worse - was there something more sinister at play?

The thought nagged at him. His perception had been growing stronger, more acute with each day of cultivation. What if this emptiness was a sign of something more? A warning? A protective measure? He made a mental note to inquire about this during his next visit to the tower of records.

By late afternoon, he had completed the knife handle. Rougher than his sphere, but functional, if you overlooked the deep gash on it's left side, one happened in a lapse of consentration, as Cheng swore he heard a rodent scurry close by.

Its imperfections told a story of learning, of gradual improvement, just like the other things he had carved in this mission.

He tucked it carefully into his satchel alongside his previous carvings.

As twilight approached, he found another small depression in the ground, protected minimally from the wind.

His camp routine was becoming second nature. Gathering dried grass, arranging his belongings, starting a small fire.

The satiation pill dissolved quickly, Its bitter tang coating his tongue, Something he had kind of gotten used to, providing him with the necessary sustenance.

The next morning, just as the first rays of sunlight began to paint the horizon, Jiang Cheng packed his camp and resumed his journey.

The familiar landscape gradually gave way to more recognizable terrain. The rising stone steps of the Falling Star Sect emerging in the distance.

Each step brought him closer to home, to routine, to the next phase of his cultivation journey.

And as the sect's stairs loomed before him, he groaned as he was sure to be cleaning them once again.