He Transmigrated Into The Body Of A Useless Little Disciple, Whose Innermost Thoughts Were Overheard By Demonic Master! - Chapter 15

To Xuan Yue, Xie Rong’s sword techniques appeared like child’s play, yet by ordinary standards, they were exceptional. The knowledge jade slips in his library were no common items, and Xie Rong had free access to them. Although Xie Rong’s aptitude was mediocre, he had studied countless techniques and forms, and the core cultivation path he followed had been carefully selected by Xuan Yue to match his specific spiritual roots. With such a high starting point, his swordsmanship naturally became extraordinary.

Xuan Yue was secretly surprised. Xie Rong’s sword had actually manifested sword intent. However, this intent was soft and utterly lacking in lethality, much like Xie Rong himself. Xie Rong sheathed his sword and stood still. Seeing Xuan Yue’s silence, his right hand, gripping the hilt, began to sweat, and he muttered internally: Why is Master silent? Is he organizing his thoughts to scold me? What if he asks why I do not practice with the puppet? If I tell him the truth about my fear of corpses, will he throw me into a mass grave? He usually does not talk much, but he has never punished me or said anything harsh. Why am I so terrified of him? He is not a principal.

Xuan Yue did not understand what a principal was, but he had long since become accustomed to Xie Rong’s bizarre terminology.

“Your sword has manifested intent. What type of sword intent is it?”

Xie Rong’s sword intent was so soft that Xuan Yue had not immediately identified it. Xie Rong was stunned. He looked down at his sword, bewildered. He knew that only those who birthed their own sword intent were considered true sword cultivators. Sword intent functioned like a force multiplier, turning an eighty-percent effective strike into one with one hundred and eighty percent power.

“Master, my sword has intent?” Xie Rong asked, his eyes dazed. He then thought to himself: How can I not feel it? They say it usually takes a life-or-death situation to comprehend intent. I have not experienced any of that; I just practice every day. How was it born?

Xie Rong could not fathom it. If he did not know that Xuan Yue was incapable of misidentifying it, he would have assumed Xuan Yue was teasing him.

Xuan Yue studied him thoughtfully. Another oddity had appeared in Xie Rong: he had manifested an intent he could not even perceive himself. “You cannot feel your sword intent because it has not yet fully formed. You must practice diligently; do not be lazy.”

“I have finished my seclusion, and I will guide your cultivation from now on.”

Xuan Yue handed him a bottle of pills. These were intended for the Golden Core stage; a Foundation Establishment cultivator would usually be burst apart by such potent energy. However, Xie Rong’s constitution had been permanently altered by years of spiritual fruit consumption. Yet, even with these, only a fraction of the energy integrated into his dantian. Relying on this to reach the Golden Core was a pipe dream. Xuan Yue had watched the boy try and fail countless times. Xie Rong had convinced himself he was a failure, and Xuan Yue knew that if he relied solely on himself, his odds of breaking through were near zero.

Xuan Yue dismissed him. Xie Rong bowed respectfully before turning to leave. Over the years, his initial lack of fear had turned into a profound, fearful respect.

Xie Rong did not recognize the pills Xuan Yue gave him because their complex patterns all looked the same to him. Once in his room, he took one. It was a gift from his Master, so it had to be the best. The moment it hit his stomach, the massive surge of energy exploded like a bomb, rushing through his meridians. Seven days later, Xie Rong awoke, shocked and excited. As expected of Master! One pill is worth over a decade of bitter cultivation. If I had enough of these, could I reach the Golden Core?

The thought flickered and died. He decided to let fate take its course. He had already lived a second life; he was ahead of the game. He soon learned that cultivation could be addictive. Three months later, looking at the empty bottle, he slapped his forehead in annoyance.

Why could I not control myself? Why did I eat them all? Now I have none left to take to the market. Should I ask Master for more? But he does not owe me anything. Giving me pills is a kindness; not giving them is also normal. I cannot resort to moral kidnapping. Forget it; I survived before without them. These pills are useful, but only to a small degree. They saved me a hundred years of cultivation, but I still have two thousand nine hundred years to go. I cannot rely on these pills for everything.

Xuan Yue listened to these thoughts. He knew these pills were top-tier, worth three thousand high-grade spirit stones each. Xuan Yue waited for Xie Rong’s greed to take over, waiting for him to crumble and beg. He wanted to see Xie Rong become corrupt and hardened, finally becoming someone he could stand to look at.

But a month passed. Then a year. Xie Rong never mentioned the pills again. Xuan Yue, who prided himself on understanding human nature, found himself baffled. If he could not hear Xie Rong’s inner thoughts, he would have assumed the boy was incredibly patient.

One afternoon, Xuan Yue summoned him. “Your cultivation speed is glacial. Most of the energy you absorb is consumed by your flesh. At this rate, three thousand years would not be enough for you to reach the Golden Core.”

Xie Rong panicked: What is this about? My poor aptitude is not news. Why is he mentioning it now? Even the worst roots can refine thirty percent of spiritual energy; geniuses refine over eighty percent. I refine less than one percent, yet I have water, wood, and earth roots. Is something wrong with them?

Xuan Yue felt a headache coming on as the boy drifted into his own thoughts again. He tapped the table sharply. Xie Rong straightened up instantly. “I have disappointed you, Master.”

“Knowing your speed, why have you not come to ask me for pills?” Xuan Yue asked coldly.

Xie Rong looked up, meeting Xuan Yue’s stern gaze, before dropping his head again. “Master has already helped me too much; I do not wish to be a burden. The path of cultivation must be walked alone. Even if I begged for pills, what would change? I cannot live off your charity for a lifetime. With my aptitude, I could never reach the Nascent Soul stage anyway. You do not owe me anything.”

Xuan Yue frowned, his emotions complex. He found this kind, selfless side of Xie Rong utterly maddening.

“Follow me,” Xuan Yue said, rising. Outside the hall, he signaled for Xie Rong to follow him on his sword. Xie Rong gritted his teeth, terrified. I have a fear of heights. If I fall off, I will die an unjust death.

Xuan Yue had seen Xie Rong’s “sword flying” before; it was more like sword crawling, three meters off the ground. Reluctantly, Xuan Yue pulled the boy onto his own blade, letting Xie Rong stand behind him.

In the distance, Gu Chen, Peak Master of Dan Yun Peak, watched through his divine sense and dropped his medicinal herbs in shock. What is happening? Am I seeing things? Why is Xuan Yue carrying a man on his sword? I am only thirty thousand years old; I am in my prime. I cannot be going blind.