Cultivation Nerd

I kept my Qi pulsing steadily into her body, feeling its flow like a warm current merging with her uncontrollable waves. With my eyes closed, I focused entirely on the diagnosis, pushing my awareness deeper, searching for any signs of damage or imbalance.

I had long trained myself to detect every subtle shift in energy and every faint irregularity in the flow. This process had become second nature, my understanding of human anatomy allowed me to pinpoint any anomaly quickly. But with her, it was different. Her body, though familiar in many ways, held nuances that defied simple categorization. The Qi didn't move as it should; her form, though human-like, was distinctly different.

Her body appeared normal or perhaps "uninjured" was a more accurate term in this case.

As I began to withdraw my Qi, her body continued its strange, almost mesmerizing dance of transformation. Even without my energy probing, the shifting and changing didn't stop; organs moved, reformed, and reshaped in ways that defied comprehension. Any injuries, if they existed, were impossible to identify.

How could I tell if she was hurt when, in one moment, a kidney seamlessly morphed into a heart, and the next, that heart split into two tiny, pulsing lungs? Every shift felt deliberate yet utterly alien, leaving me uncertain whether I was witnessing a healing process or simply her natural state. It was as though her body had no fixed form, and in such a state, how could I judge what was healthy or dangerous?

Her outer shape, too, was fluid, constantly shifting between forms, never settling on one. At one moment, her body took on the more robust and defined musculature of a man, with broad shoulders and powerful limbs. Then, as if molded by unseen hands, her figure softened, muscles smoothing out into the more delicate curves of an elegant woman. Her flesh became supple and refined, yet it was never fully one or the other. She existed in a state of perpetual transformation, her form continually morphing between strength and grace, masculine and feminine. It was like her body was an endless canvas, reshaping itself with every breath and heartbeat.

Despite meeting her as a girl, she might very well be a he. Hell, with such rapid changes, I wasn't even sure if she was human.

Beyond suppressing the initial injury, there wasn't much I could do. Her body kept shifting, reopening injuries, closing them, healing, and then creating new wounds elsewhere but no blood ever spilled.

I sighed as I fully withdrew my Qi and no longer sensed her internal workings. Even with my relatively reasonable control, foreign Qi left inside the body would eventually begin to scorch it. That was why spiritual roots were so important when absorbing Qi.

As she lay there, her body continued to shift, even her hair changing length. The only constant was her blank face.

What could her condition be? This level of transformation was unnatural, even by the standards of techniques designed to change the body.

The first thing that came to mind was an extreme physique. But even that seemed too strange. If she had an extreme physique, though, she might be able to recover her spiritual roots. Even though her roots were shattered now, they couldn't have been few in number, judging by how quickly she gathered Qi.

Regarding spiritual root recovery, Ye An was a peculiar case. Her condition caused her spiritual roots to grow uncontrollably, which meant she likely regrew them.

Another possible sign of an extreme physique was the cause of death. Users of extreme physiques didn't simply die randomly at eighteen or twenty-one. It was always their own body killing them. For Ye An, it would be an overwhelming influx of Yin Qi as her spirit root branches grew ever larger like a cancer.

I had always wondered if I could help alleviate her condition by continuously shattering her cultivation, preventing her spirit roots from regrowing or absorbing Yin Qi.

However, that idea might not work in reality, as the backlash from breaking one's cultivation was severe. Even the best pills couldn't heal the damage caused by imploding spiritual roots or internal injuries like that.

Regardless, Ye An and I weren't close enough to try something that drastic.

As I was thinking this, the girl's body kept morphing, and an idea struck me. The only thing that wasn't morphing was her face. She wasn't conscious to control the transformations, yet her body was doing it automatically. She had no face, so while she might have some control over her abilities, it was likely incomplete. Her morphing may not be entirely controllable. Maybe, as she aged, the constant transformations would grow stronger, eventually killing her.

It was a wild theory, with little to no facts backing it up, but it was the best I had.

Maybe I should wait until she recovered and try to sense how many spiritual root branches she had by then.

If she had an extreme physique, that would explain her abnormal talent… then again, being an eldritch abomination would also fit the bill.

…

As morning slowly dawned, I found myself standing by one of the narrow windows just below the top floor of the mill, gazing out over the farmlands. A thick mist had rolled in, blanketing the landscape in a soft, silver haze. The familiar shapes of trees and distant hills were little more than faint outlines, blurred and ghostly in the early light.

The stillness was broken by soft sounds of movement from the floor above. The faceless girl was stirring. I ascended the creaky stairs, the quietness of the morning amplifying each step. When I reached her, she was rising from her rest, her body shifting slightly beneath the dim light filtering through the cracks. Then, as if sensing my presence, her form's constant, unsettling morphing suddenly stopped.

She stared at the blank wall before her as though deep in thought.

"Do you feel any pain?" I asked.

Instead of answering through telepathy, she shook her head. I waited for a more concrete response, but none came.

"You can't speak anymore?" I inquired.

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She nodded.

"Will you be able to speak in the future?"

Another nod.

That was a relief. Communicating only through nodding and shaking her head would make things difficult.

"Will it take long to recover your… voice?" I wasn't sure if "voice" was the right word for her ability to speak.

She shook her head.

"Can you start speaking today?" I asked, and she nodded again. That was good. I had many questions for her, like how she knew how long it would take for her speech to recover.

After ensuring she was okay, I settled into a meditative position, calming my mind as I prepared to cultivate. No matter what was happening, I always made it a point not to miss a day of cultivation unless my spirit roots showed signs of strain. Today, however, something interrupted the familiar process before I could even reach that point.

A sudden, sharp poke against my arm broke my concentration. Startled, I opened my eyes to find the faceless girl standing there, her movements frantic, her energy radiating panic. Her poke had been quick, almost desperate. She didn't speak, of course, but pointed around the room urgently. I followed her gesture, scanning the area, but nothing seemed out of place to me. Despite her clear distress, I couldn't understand what she was trying to convey.

"You want me to check around the room?"

She shook her head.

"Someone is coming?"

She nodded.

After another round of her pointing and exaggerated hand gestures, I understood she meant someone would be arriving soon. I wasn't entirely sure, but I shrugged and cast an illusionary array around myself, one that would make me invisible as long as I didn't move. Any motion would distort the air and make me quite visible.

No cultivator would be fooled by an array like this. They could sense the Qi, and even Body Tempering cultivators would notice the anomalies with their enhanced vision. Perhaps if I were better at using this array, it might hide me from Body Tempering cultivators, but there were more pressing matters than looking to advance this.

I chuckled, realizing how my hobby of learning "useless" techniques, things most wouldn't bother with, paid off occasionally.

"Hey! You! Come feed the pigs! Why are you late today?" A dry male voice called out from below, echoing through the mill.

The faceless girl abruptly stood, her movements quick and unsteady, and without a word, she hurried down the stairs. I watched closely as she moved, her steps frantic, taking two stairs at a time, barely maintaining her balance. Her body language spoke volumes, shoulders tense, fingers twitching slightly as if she were struggling to grasp something unseen.

There was no hesitation, no complaint, but her movements screamed panic. Her posture, usually fluid and strange, now seemed stiff, driven by anxious energy.

She was usually calm for her age, with excellent control over her body language.

I canceled the invisibility array, realizing the man wasn't coming upstairs. Spreading out my Qi senses, I felt every living being around, but it seemed the man who called out had already gone.

Walking out of the mill, I scanned the area but saw no sign of the old man. The footprints in the mud were more pronounced at the front of the foot, suggesting he leaned forward as he walked. Likely due to poor posture or an injury to his tibia. He probably wasn't a runner.

I moved quickly, using the invisibility array whenever it seemed like someone might glance in my direction. Just to be cautious, I kept my distance from the farmers walking about and others who had come to use the nearby inns.

After scouting the area and sneaking around the mill's shadow, I approached the house nearby. My footsteps were quiet on the damp earth. The ground-floor windows were tightly shut, but the one on the side, just above eye level, had a slight crack. Perfect. I glanced around to ensure no one was watching, then crouched low and jumped, grabbing the ledge with both hands. The window creaked as I pushed it open just enough to slip through.

With a swift pull, I hoisted myself up, tucking my legs close as I squeezed through the narrow opening, careful not to make too much noise. My feet landed silently on the wooden floor inside, and I covered them with Qi to avoid leaving muddy prints.

The house was larger than it appeared from the outside. The first floor opened into a wide room dominated by a long, sturdy table worn from years of use. It looked large enough to seat at least twelve people. Scattered around the room were signs of life; coats hung by the door, boots lined up against the wall, and a basket of fresh bread on a nearby shelf. The faint scent of wood smoke lingered in the air, mixing with the musty smell of old, damp wood from the chairs surrounding the table. The place felt like a house still occupied but was eerily quiet.

After carefully inspecting the house, it became clear that this wasn't just a home, it felt more like an inn. The long table, rows of mismatched chairs, and abundant provisions all pointed to that conclusion. Almost every room on the second floor seemed prepared for visitors, with neatly made beds, faded but clean linens, and lanterns set on tables waiting to be lit.

Even the outhouse, tucked behind the building, was far larger than what a typical family would need. Its tall ceilings and wide doors were designed to accommodate travelers of all shapes and sizes. The reinforced flooring and heavy beams suggested it had seen many prosperous, and possibly overweight, merchants over the years. This place wasn't just for anyone; it catered to travelers from all walks of life.

At least, it was built with that in mind. As I extended my senses, it became clear that only two people lived here now. Even with the threat of rain, no merchants had come to stay despite the other inns being fully booked. It seemed the rumors of a faceless child had kept them away. I couldn't blame them. People knew how fragile life was and weren't eager to test their luck with something so unsettling.

As I sensed the subtle vibrations of footsteps stirring within the house, I knew it was time to leave. The quiet murmur of voices and floorboards creaking signaled that the occupants were waking. I moved swiftly back to the window I had entered through.

With one last glance behind me, I eased the window open and gracefully slipped out as silently as I had come. My feet landed softly on the ground outside, the cool morning air brushing against my skin.

Rubbing my chin thoughtfully, I watched as more people emerged from their homes, heading to tend the fields or walk the dirt paths between houses. The village was waking up, and with each passing minute, the chances of going unnoticed were shrinking. Sneaking around like a shadow wasn't exactly my specialty. I could manage it for a while, but eventually, someone would spot me.

The invisibility array was an option, but it had its limits. Maintaining it would be risky unless I planned to stand perfectly still.

There were other ways to approach the house where the faceless girl's parents lived. By now, they were awake, and I could hear the father demanding breakfast.

"Another day without any customers. It's all the fault of that wretched thing. We should've left it in the forest when I told you to," a woman's voice screeched, harsh as a banshee's wail.

"It's not that simple, you damn woman! That thing is my child," a man responded, his voice heavy with frustration. "If I'd known this would happen, I would've left her for the wild animals or whatever prowls these woods. But now it's too late! If we leave her, she might come back for revenge. How many times do I have to tell you this? You complain about it every damn day!"

It was the same man who had called the faceless girl when she was in the mill.

With a polite smile, I approached the door and gave it a firm, steady knock. The sound echoed briefly in the quiet morning, a knock that wasn't too forceful but enough to announce my presence. I stepped back, adjusting my posture to seem relaxed and non-threatening, though my mind raced.

Footsteps shuffled inside, followed by the creak of the door opening slowly.