The Programmer Cultivator

In any case, Huineng had survived yesterday’s incident. At least he no longer wished for death.

As for Qing Lian... given the situation, Fuyuan also hoped for some improvement. After all, the two had been close friends for many years.

Seeing this, Zhang Deming also stood up and followed them out.

...

As the group quickly arrived at their destination, Zhang Deming was the first to speak. ”Let me go alone. I’m afraid if there are too many of us, it might be difficult to say certain things.”

Guu Donglin paused and gave Zhang Deming a serious look. After a long moment, he finally nodded and said, ”Then I’ll have to trouble you, Younger Brother Zhang.”

Zhang Deming smiled. ”It’s no trouble. I’ll just give it a try.”

With that, Zhang Deming left alone. Guu Donglin watched his retreating figure, his eyes filled with hope.

The group was already near the lotus pond, so in just a few steps, Zhang Deming arrived.

At a glance, he could see Nangong Cheng standing silently in a pavilion at the corner of the pond, still as a statue.

It was a good thing his Cultivation wasn’t completely crippled; otherwise, standing like that for so long would have likely ruined his body.

Zhang Deming walked into the pavilion once more and sat down next to the spot where the other man stood, positioning himself just at the edge of Nangong Cheng’s peripheral vision.

Again, Zhang Deming spoke without preamble. ”Let’s continue.”

Nangong Cheng remained motionless, which didn’t surprise Zhang Deming in the least. He shifted his position in the pavilion, crossing his arms and leaning back against the railing so he could face Nangong Cheng’s profile directly.

”It’s not that big of a deal, really,” Zhang Deming began.

Nangong Cheng remained statue-like, his body perfectly still, but his aura flickered slightly.

Zhang Deming continued, ”Where I come from, things like what happened yesterday... well, some do it out of love, some out of lust. There are plenty who do it willingly.”

”And even here, including in Huayue City where I’ve been wandering these past few days, it’s not exactly rare.”

Nangong Cheng finally reacted. He stiffly turned his head and stared fixedly at Zhang Deming with dull, lifeless eyes. His gaze was terrifyingly calm.

It was as if he were questioning how Zhang Deming could lump him in with such people.

Zhang Deming’s heart leaped into his throat, and he subtly circulated his Spiritual Power. He was genuinely afraid he’d provoked the man too much and that he might suddenly attack. ’Though, that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.’

The young Monk had made his vow, and Hua Zhengyu had delivered his prophecy. Both had managed to vent their inner turmoil.

Only Nangong Cheng, who seemed so free-spirited and unrestrained, was different. He had forcefully swallowed his emotions whole. If he kept bottling them up, something was bound to go wrong.

’This had nothing to do with being a Cultivator; it was a fundamental part of human nature. Or rather, a twisted Cultivator was an even more terrifying prospect.’

’But venting his frustrations in a fight wasn’t the ideal outcome he was aiming for.’

Seeing that he’d gotten a reaction, Zhang Deming stopped provoking him. Instead, he said, ”Of course, what happened yesterday wasn’t consensual. So you can just look at it as you being forced.”

Nangong Cheng’s aura wavered again, and his dull, gray eyes flickered.

”Ha, that doesn’t sound like a good thing either, I suppose. But it’s much better than whatever you’re imagining right now.”

”There are many women in the mortal world who are forced into things. If every single one of them reacted like you, how many would be unable to go on living?”

”After all, not everyone has your level of Cultivation, able to just endure it through Fasting,” Zhang Deming added.

”You...” For the first time since the incident, Nangong Cheng spoke. His voice was hoarse, dry, and grating—a stark contrast to the deeply magnetic voice he once possessed.

Zhang Deming raised an eyebrow. ”What of it?”

Nangong Cheng’s composure wavered. ”Are you comparing me to some suicidal mortal? Or a woman?”

His words were laced with barely suppressed rage.

Zhang Deming nodded. ”Mm, something like that. I don’t see you as a woman, though. It’s just...”

”Well... the way I see it, when it comes to what other people do, as long as it doesn’t involve me and it’s consensual, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. It’s not some cardinal sin.”

”So from my perspective, what happened to you is no different from simply being forced.”

”When you think about it like that, what happened yesterday isn’t nearly as serious as those Soul Nails in your body. If you don’t believe me, just try thinking about it that way.”

Emotion finally began to surface in Nangong Cheng’s lifeless eyes. He glared at Zhang Deming but didn’t respond.

Zhang Deming paused. Seeing that some life had returned to the man’s expression, he stopped prodding him. Instead, he turned, draped himself over the railing to look out at the pond, and changed the subject.

”You know, I’m also quite fond of lotuses. I once heard that the lotus is the purest thing in the world. It grows from the filthiest mud, yet remains sacred and unstained by the grime. In a way, it’s quite similar to that righteous qi many of you Book Cultivators cultivate in your hearts.”

After a long silence, Nangong Cheng finally spoke. ”And what of it? My Literary Gallbladder is shattered, my path to the Dao is severed, and my Cultivation is all but crippled. I can no longer be that lotus.”

”I can’t even think of avenging this blood feud. I’m only clinging to life because of what Daoist Hua said yesterday.”

Zhang Deming paused for a moment. ”So that’s what this is about. I might have a solution for that.”

A faint glimmer appeared in Nangong Cheng’s eyes. He watched Zhang Deming quietly, waiting for him to continue.

”How dull,” Zhang Deming remarked. ”Have you ever heard of a Path in ancient times that served as a bridge between Book Cultivators and Word Cultivators?”

”They didn’t need to form a Literary Gallbladder or condense a Literary Heart, yet they could speak with heavenly authority and weave wonders with their words. It originates from both Paths, yet transcends them both!”

Nangong Cheng said, ”Storytellers?”

Zhang Deming nodded. ”Mm, that’s right.”

Nangong Cheng shook his head. ”It’s useless. That Path has become exceedingly rare these days because to walk it, one must first achieve the Dao through Oratory.”

”After cultivating Oratory to the Law Level and gaining the initial ability to break free from its rigid structures, one must then switch to cultivating the Calligraphy Dao. Only after achieving the Harmonization Dao between Speech and Calligraphy can one truly walk the Storytelling Path.”

”This Path is simply too arduous. In this modern era of the Spirit Nurturing Bead, it has all but vanished.”

”Besides, I already have some small accomplishments in the Calligraphy Dao. As for the Speech Dao... forget reaching the Law Level, I have no hope of even setting foot on that Path.”