Slag Shou Cultivating Manual - Chapter 87

Chapter 87: A Sense of Crisis

After Jiang Hanzheng established his foundation, his unique cultivation method attracted increasing speculation and controversy. Despite the disciples’ efforts to investigate and observe, they could only vaguely discern that he practiced a Five-Element cultivation method. However, they were completely unable to grasp the specifics. No matter how fervently they desired to understand its mysteries, they could only remain dryly curious.

In the outer sect, there were also quite a few Five-Element root cultivators. Most of them were diligent and persistent, with an extraordinary determination to embark on the path of cultivation. Upon learning about Jiang Hanzheng, they finally felt as if they had found a glimmer of hope and vitality. They regarded him as a role model, painstakingly studying his unique Five-Element cultivation method.

Because Jiang Hanzheng’s master was the revered Wushang Zhenren, these otherwise dependent and unsupported individuals gathered their courage to approach him, pinning all their hopes on Wushang.

That day, after finishing his morning exercises, Jiang Hanzheng returned to the peak and immediately noticed unfamiliar presences.

Frowning at the oddity, he quickly hurried back, only to find several outer-sect disciples somehow kneeling at his master’s doorstep, pleading to become his disciples.

Seeing the look of unease on his master’s face, Jiang Hanzheng’s heart filled with apprehension, worried that his master might relent out of kindness.

Although, before meeting his master, he had been no different from these disciples—someone with mediocre roots who understood their struggles and hopelessness—human nature is ultimately selfish. Regardless of how much pity he had felt for these people, seeing them now trying to get close to his master ignited a rare flicker of irritation in Jiang Hanzheng’s usually mild temperament. His expression darkened as he stepped forward to shield his master and drive them away.

Seeing the main disciple arrive, the crowd fell silent. Observing Wushang Zhenren’s impassive expression, they reluctantly left to continue their chores, though their discontent was evident.

Even though these disciples were mostly in the early stages of Qi Refinement and entirely incomparable to him, Jiang Hanzheng still felt an inexplicable sense of unease.

If his master could use such methods to help ordinary, discarded cultivators, why had he chosen Jiang Hanzheng as his sole disciple?

Jiang Hanzheng clenched his fists. Whether it was his senior brothers, who placed him under pressure, or the nameless novices attempting to swarm his master, he couldn’t help but remain wary of them. Disgusted by his own narrow-mindedness, he strove to mask his feelings with magnanimous gestures.

To prevent his master’s attention from shifting to others, Jiang Hanzheng decided to bring his master surprise after surprise before the wave of attention surrounding his Foundation Establishment breakthrough subsided.

Upon reflection, he realized that two key moments of rapid cultivation growth came when he had mistakenly consumed a pill and when he had ingested the Bodhi Seed.

Now that the Bodhi Seed nourished his meridians day and night, he felt emboldened to try the same risky combination of incompatible pills as before.

Believing his strong will and tempered physique could endure the ordeal, he secretly retrieved the pills his master had forbidden. Inhaling the unique fragrance, he steadied his nerves and swallowed them in one go.

And yet…unbidden, the memory of his master tending to him during his last episode—when their bodies had briefly touched—flashed through his mind. Would his master care for him so attentively again if the effects of the pills flared up?

Jiang Hanzheng’s cheeks flushed, and he slapped his head in horror at the indecent thought. He scrambled to rationalize his motives, blaming the intrusive ideas on the medicine’s effects as heat flushed through his body.

…

When the sound of agonized groaning emerged from the room, Helang furrowed his brows, his mind conjuring alarming scenarios. Worried, he immediately broke through the door.

Jiang Hanzheng writhed in pain on the bed, his robe disheveled. Pale and bloodless lips murmured pleas for help, his face a picture of misery.

Helang was alarmed, rushing to his side.

He had only been away briefly. Something must have happened while he was gone. Upon returning to his room and not finding Jiang Hanzheng there, Helang had already felt unsettled.

Now, restraining his disciple’s limbs to examine his meridians, Helang discovered that Jiang Hanzheng’s body was suffering from conflicting cold and heat, his Five-Element spiritual energy chaotic. The symptoms resembled his previous reaction to the forbidden pills.

After ingesting the Bodhi Seed, Helang had avoided giving Jiang Hanzheng any other pills to prevent clashes. Yet now…

Jiang Hanzheng’s body had grown stronger through training, and while he was in pain, his symptoms were more controllable than before. Seeing his master’s contemplative expression, Jiang Hanzheng’s heart raced with fear, worried his master might discover the truth. Grasping Helang’s sleeve, he tearfully begged for relief.

Helang couldn’t think of anything else but easing his disciple’s suffering. He layered on blankets and started a fire, but soon Jiang Hanzheng’s complexion flushed, murmuring complaints about the heat, and clinging to Helang.

As a Water-Ice dual spirit root cultivator, Helang’s body naturally ran cold. When he channeled spiritual energy, he became even cooler. Jiang Hanzheng refused to let go upon touching him, finding comfort in his master’s chill.

Though Helang wanted to pull away, he understood his proximity provided relief and allowed Jiang Hanzheng to lean against him. He even loosened the disciple’s collar, offering closer contact.

The sensation of skin-on-skin soothed Jiang Hanzheng, filling him with joy. Emboldened by his master’s acquiescence, he nestled closer, brushing against Helang’s neck and cheeks with innocent, glistening eyes. His murmurs carried an inexplicable weight, sending a faint blush to Helang’s ears.

Jiang Hanzheng’s actions seemed instinctual yet deliberate, making Helang suspect some semblance of intent behind the chaos. However, he revealed nothing, simply comforting his disciple while subtly assessing him.

As the medicine’s effects waned, Helang embraced his disciple without complaint.

Jiang Hanzheng felt his initial anxiety dissolve under his master’s warmth and tenderness. Burying his face in Helang’s chest, he reveled in a budding sensation of attachment, dismissing it as harmless affection.

Even as his body fluctuated between hot and cold, the torment became trivial compared to the solace of his master’s presence.

Yet something nagged at him: Helang had said nothing. No scolding, no probing questions—his carefully prepared excuses went unused.

Lifting his gaze, Jiang Hanzheng found his apprehension resurfacing.

Helang, however, calmly checked his disciple’s meridians and confirmed his condition had stabilized. “You needn’t go to such lengths,” he finally said.

Jiang Hanzheng stiffened, feigning innocence by clutching at his robe.

“Your body is resilient enough,” Helang continued, his tone gentle. “This method brings little benefit and causes unnecessary suffering. Don’t do it again. What you seek—I will always provide.” He ruffled Jiang Hanzheng’s hair, having seen through his ploy from the start.

Reflecting on Jiang Hanzheng’s earlier anguish, Helang’s heart ached, wondering why his disciple resorted to such foolish, self-destructive methods to gain his concern.

Jiang Hanzheng bit his lip, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. His master’s insight, understanding, and unshakable kindness shattered his defenses.

Helang helped his disciple readjust his robes and smoothly changed the subject. “The competition is approaching. It may be early to say, but I hope you’ll win…”

Jiang Hanzheng was startled. The idea felt as impossible as climbing the heavens. Shaking his head, he protested, “Master places too much faith in me. Senior brothers and other seniors are far beyond my reach.”

Though his cultivation had advanced rapidly, Jiang Hanzheng knew he couldn’t compare to those who had trained for decades or centuries.

Helang understood but remained hopeful, believing his disciple capable of surprising achievements. He resolved to support Jiang Hanzheng however possible. Smiling faintly, he tousled the younger man’s hair. “You’re my only disciple now. Would you let me down?”

Jiang Hanzheng shook his head vigorously, silently resolving to give his all.

The competition lasted a month, with daily matches. Only those who remained standing at the end of the day progressed.

On the first day, thirty-six small stages were set up in the sect square. All disciples, regardless of origin or master, were allowed to challenge for a spot. By sunset, the thirty-six remaining participants were declared winners.

Jiang Hanzheng, cautious by nature, waited for the initial matches to play out. As the day neared its conclusion, he ascended the stage and secured his place among the thirty-six.

His performance drew cheers and admiration, though some voices inquired about Wushang Zhenren—whether he would accept more disciples or allow consultations.

Jiang Hanzheng’s smile dimmed slightly as he firmly declared that his master would not take on more disciples and that his success was unique and unreplicable. He warned against troubling Wushang Zhenren unnecessarily.

As the crowd quieted, a deep, resonant voice cut through: “Well said. But it’s not your place.”

Frowning, Jiang Hanzheng searched for the speaker, catching sight of a man in white with golden embroidery. However, the figure disappeared before Jiang Hanzheng could react.

A faint sense of unease and oppression lingered in his chest.

Why had the man spoken such words? Jiang Hanzheng’s gaze darkened. He was Wushang Zhenren’s only disciple. What could he have meant by “not your place”?