I Cheated While Cultivating

Chapter 44: But She Gave Too Much

Zhou Heng, who had focused on practicing martial arts at the dojo all day, was unaware of how he had been touted by the outside world.

Now, dusk was approaching.

Stepping out of the dojo, Zhou Heng was walking home when he realized that people were looking at him somewhat differently.

Young men’s gazes were filled with envy.

Young women’s gazes were laced with admiration.

Middle-aged men and women looked on with amazement.

Elderly men and women passing by would also take a good look at him before sighing softly that comparisons are odious.

"What’s going on?” Zhou Heng felt that something was amiss, he touched his face and thought to himself,

“Could it be that I’ve become more handsome?”

After all, whether on Earth or in this world, looks often mattered.

Like when opening a Fortune Bag.

It wasn’t until he bought two pounds of pork ribs from a butcher’s shop that he learned people were not only paying attention to him because he was handsome, but also because he was a Seventeen-year-old Ninth Grade.

How did Zhou Heng find out?

Because when he went to buy pork ribs, the butcher was beating his child with a knife.

He was muttering to himself:

"That’ll teach you not to practice martial arts diligently, that’ll teach you to slack off. Look at Zhou Heng, Ninth Grade at seventeen, and damn it, you’re already thirteen and can’t even maintain a proper horse stance. I’ll have to ask your mom if she’s cuckolded me, why are you so lazy!?”

Zhou Heng still remembered when he left, the butcher’s wife had just entered the door and, upon hearing her husband’s words, immediately grabbed the pig-slaughtering knife from beside her and walked over to him.

All he could do was wish that butcher good luck.

Carrying two pounds of ribs and a pound of freshly purchased lotus root, he watched the setting sun in the distance and the sky filled with crimson hues.

Walking on the road home.

Zhou Heng truly felt this was life.

Today, he planned to treat himself and stew a pot of lotus root and pork rib soup.

Tomorrow, he had to go to the dojo earlier.

The owner would personally confer upon him a new identity different from his role as an apprentice, and also assign him an independent training room.

The key point was—

Tuition is free!

And lunch was included!

This instantly filled Zhou Heng with a great sense of happiness.

Even though he no longer had the convenience of the internet, no computer, no games, this kind of leisurely and stable life, witnessing his own progress every day, seemed not too bad either.

The only drawback was that money was a bit tight.

In order to save, he had deliberately chosen the cheapest off-cuts for the two pounds of pork ribs he bought.

The stew wouldn’t taste like the ones he had on Earth.

…If only he had the chance to return to Earth for a visit, to see if his parents were doing well.

Two and a half years already.

Thinking of this, some emotions he had deliberately suppressed for a long time began to surface in Zhou Heng’s heart. He shook his head, letting the fleeting memories dissipate from his mind.

"There’s no use thinking about these things right now. Focus on practicing martial arts, on cultivating the Martial Path, on studying Taoist Formulas!” Actually, he had gotten used to this kind of mental adjustment, he said to himself silently,

“Gaining strength is everything!”

This was not a peaceful and tranquil world.

The scene he had witnessed two years ago made Zhou Heng acutely aware that the saying ‘when Immortals fight, mortals suffer1 was not mere talk.

Had those two high-rank warriors fighting back then passed through his village, everyone there, including himself, would not have survived.

Not even their bones would have remained.

Besides these evident

“Immortals,” there were ghosts and evil creatures breeding in the dark.

"One step at a time, let’s secure the position of an outer sect disciple of the Chang Xing Sect first.

"At least sixty taels of regular income a year, and the chance to rent a mid­range room in the Chang Xing Tower for ten taels of silver for a year can’t be missed.

"This is indeed making a killing!”

Before he had even left the city, Zhou Heng confirmed that someone was following him.

It was a young nobleman wearing a white brocade robe, with a jade crown on his head, not tall and even somewhat slender.

This left him feeling mystified.

I don’t seem to have offended anyone, he thought, so why would someone be trailing me?

Moreover, judging by how this person concealed his footsteps and their agility, they were at least a Ninth Rank Warrior, and possibly even Eighth Rank.

So, when he was close to the city gate, Zhou Heng stopped in a secluded alley.

No one around.

Only the shadow behind him continued to skulk.

"Come out,” Zhou Heng said sternly,

“What are your intentions for following me?”

No one responded.

No one came out.

It was as quiet as chickens.

"Come out!” Zhou Heng called out again, his voice not too quiet, and his hand was already on the hilt of his knife.

Clang!

The sound of something being stepped on came from a corner of the wall.

"Ah! Not good!”

Immediately after, a young master dressed in a white brocade robe, with a gentle and handsome appearance, walked out from that corner of the wall.

Compared to her appearance in the teahouse, she now had a folding fan in her hand.

"This young master…” She smiled, about to greet Zhou Heng, and at the same time, she flicked open the folding fan in her hand.

Pop!

She seemed to be mimicking the way the storyteller opened his fan; however, she used too much force, and the brand-new fan split right down the middle, tearing the fan surface into two pieces.

The breeze caused by the splitting fan also blew her fake mustache askew.

Yet she was completely unaware of this.

Zhou Heng was dumbfounded. What on earth was this person doing?

Performance art??

"This, this was an accident, just an accident,” the young master said with an awkward smile, hiding the broken fan behind her back, trying to regain her composure.

“Excuse me, are you Zhou Heng?”

"No, I’m not Zhou Heng,” Zhou Heng denied, while keeping his composure, his wariness suddenly heightened.

He had heard Lin Cang speak of such matters in the martial world.

If someone followed you or tried to ambush you, and they also asked if you were a certain person, that meant you might be facing an assassination.

The person’s target was your life.

"Ah?” The young master scratched their head, after making quite an inquiry, how could it not be? The young master was somewhat puzzled,

“Aren’t you the Zhou Heng who fought a great battle with Sun Zhengping, competing for Wang Qjngqing’s final favor?”

"What the heck??” Zhou Heng was flabbergasted.

What was all this about?

Since when had he battled Sun Zhengping and competed for Wang Qingqing?

"That’s the story the storyteller was telling…” Seeing Zhou Heng’s reaction, the young master was utterly baffled and briefly recounted the content of the storyteller’s tale to Zhou Heng.

It turned out that the story involved not only romantic entanglements but also meetings with immortals in dreams who bestowed Taoist formulas, reincarnation of ancient divine beings, and so forth.

Of course, the most ludicrous part was the claim that Zhou Heng fought Sun Zhengping because of his love for Wang Qingqing.

Zhou Heng listened with his mouth agape.

Are storytellers in this world always so incredible?

Even fan fiction should follow some rules, right?

It was too preposterous!

"Do you want to know what happens next in the story?” Zhou Heng, suppressing the desire to critique internally, took a deep breath, and said,

“I cannot comment on that, miss. Please, you should go home.”

"How can you, the protagonist of the story, have no comment?” The young master shook her head, then let out a light ‘eep,’ and suddenly became pale with shock. She staggered backward, pointing at Zhou Heng, exclaiming in astonishment,

“No, how did you find out!??”

I’m not blind… Zhou Heng’s mouth twitched slightly, pointing to his lips.

And besides, anyone with a working brain could tell you’re a girl just by looking at that exceptionally handsome face.

"Oh no! Why is it crooked!”

The girl touched the little mustache above her lips, straightened it quickly, and then looked at Zhou Heng again,

“There, it’s fixed. You really don’t know the rest of the story?”

“…” Zhou Heng was speechless, sighing,

“Miss, you’d better go home early, lest you get deceived by someone outside.”

He was sincerely offering a warning.

After all, it appeared this girl’s mind wasn’t working too well.

"Hmm,” the girl’s eyes wandered, glancing at the spareribs in Zhou Heng’s hand, smiling,

“What if I pay you to tell me, how about that?”

Eh?

Did she deduce that I was short on money from the cut of spareribs I’ve bought?

Zhou Heng was taken aback but still shook his head,

“I’m not that kind of person… Hmm… how much are you offering?”

"One hundred taels,” the girl beamed.

"Deal!” Zhou Heng immediately nodded, decisively agreeing, which left the girl somewhat dumbstruck.

The Golden Crow was hanging low, and the setting sun’s rays shone through the tree leaves, falling upon a small path in the woodland.

A luxuriously decorated carriage was slowly moving along.

Inside the carriage, a young man in his twenties, holding a sword, sat quietly. He had a handsome face and slightly tanned skin, as if he was often exposed to the sun.

It was none other than Kong Chengshun, the Law Enforcement Elder’s direct disciple from the Chang Xing Sect. A promising young man, ranked ninety­ninth on the lists of martial artists, and already an Eighth Rank Martial Artist in the Martial Path at the age of twenty-three, known as

“Sunset Flying Sword.” Thud thud.

At that moment, a knocking sound came from outside the carriage, accompanied by a voice asking,

“Brother Kong, we’ve just received a message by carrier pigeon. It’s a letter for you.”

Kong Chengshun slowly opened his eyes,

“From whom?”

The voice outside said,

“It’s from Master Huang Jingfu of the Tongchang Martial Arts School. Do you want to see it, Brother Kong?”

‘No need,” Kong Chengshun said indifferently, “Burn it.’

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