I Just Wanted To Live but I Somehow Became Better Than the Protagonist

Ye Yong’s strategy was simple: to pretend he was about to bathe. On the shore, he sensed no malevolence, but once he stepped into the water, that could change. Besides, cultivators were protected by spiritual energy; bathing in cold water during winter wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

He began to loosen his belt, his movements unhurried, as if he were in his own bathroom. Yet, after fully unfastening his belt, still no one appeared, and Ye Yong couldn’t help but feel a twinge of impatience.

First, there was no guarantee that a dark cultivator was even present; he might end up undressing for nothing. Second, a dark cultivator could very well be a woman, drawn by Ye Yong’s “beauty,” curious to watch him bathe.

At this point, Ye Yong had no choice but to steel himself and continue shedding his clothes. After all, he still wore an undergarment; if he stripped down to that and no one showed up, he would simply plunge into the pond.

As he peeled off his outer robe to his shoulders, ready to dive in and give Qin Shiming a show of his midnight swim, a figure finally approached.

“Esteemed young hero, what do you intend to do?”

Ye Yong quickly donned his clothes again, retying his belt, and turned to the figure: “After a long day of wandering outside, I saw the water here was clear and thought to take a bath.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. Don’t be fooled by the clarity; every day, village children come here to relieve themselves.” The speaker was a middle-aged cultivator clad in a Daoist robe, exuding an air of righteousness.

Though he tried to conceal his cultivation level, Ye Yong saw through it effortlessly, thanks to his system tools.

Fifth layer of Golden Core.

In the early chapters of the novel, such a level would have marked him as a formidable cultivator.

The gap was too vast; Ye Yong didn’t believe his first layer of Foundation Establishment could match the other’s strength, yet it was clear the man had no means to deal with him. After all, Ye Yong could casually pull out a magical artifact capable of contending with those above the Nascent Soul stage. The support from Tianluo Sect, his family, and the Liang clan was no idle boast.

“Oh?” Ye Yong feigned surprise. “So it’s not hygienic?”

“Children do not understand such things.” The middle-aged cultivator spoke with a gentle demeanor, his tone pleasant, entirely untainted by the malevolence of dark practitioners.

“Senior, do you know where I might find a clean water source to bathe?”

The middle-aged cultivator pointed out a path to Ye Yong, who immediately expressed his gratitude. “Thank you, Senior. Hmm? Why do I get the feeling you are quite familiar with this area? Surely, it is inhabited by mortals?”

Ye Yong began to delve into the matter, his brow furrowing as he scrutinized the cultivator with suspicion.

The middle-aged cultivator laughed heartily, already prepared with a response. “Indeed, this vicinity is home to mortals, but I grew up here; it is not strange to be familiar.”

“Senior, you wouldn’t be hiding something from me, would you? Is there perhaps a treasure beneath that pool of water? Are you deliberately keeping me from bathing, fearing I might uncover it?”

“Such words should not be spoken lightly. If there were truly a treasure, I would have taken it long ago.” The middle-aged cultivator hadn’t anticipated Ye Yong would employ such tactics. He maintained a smile on the surface, but inside, he was growing anxious.

From the moment Ye Yong approached the pool, the cultivator had been observing him, from head to toe, and back again. No matter how he looked at it, Ye Yong resembled a young master from a prominent family. With a foundation of ten layers, his meager cultivation could be easily dispatched with a mere flick. The key was that a young master from a great family would surely possess some protective treasures. If he failed to kill Ye Yong, it could provoke the wrath of that family, leading to a hunt…

The middle-aged cultivator could not afford such a risk.

“Some treasures require time to grow, like spiritual plants and the like.” Ye Yong deliberately narrowed his eyes, embodying the essence of a suspicious young master to the fullest.

“Look around; there is no abundant spiritual energy here. It is hardly suitable for spiritual plants to thrive. Ah, but you do not believe me, do you? Very well, if you wish to bathe here, then bathe. I have already warned you.” The middle-aged cultivator feigned a desire to leave, appearing indifferent to Ye Yong’s actions. In truth, he was all in, waiting for Ye Yong to disrobe, seeking an opportunity to strike him down in one blow.

“Just a jest, Senior. May we meet again by fate.” Ye Yong turned and walked toward the clean water source the cultivator had mentioned, his figure quickly vanishing into the woods shrouded in night.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ye Yong plunged into the forest and activated a fourth-tier talisman that rendered him invisible.

Within the Tianluo Sect, he dared not use such an item, but outside, he had no reservations.

The middle-aged cultivator, wary of Ye Yong’s suspicions, did not dare to use his spiritual sense to track his movements.

This was all thanks to Ye Yong’s earlier insinuations, and the effects were not limited to that. The primary purpose of his words was to instill tension and vigilance in the middle-aged cultivator. Once those emotions took hold, he would reveal a flaw—not in combat, but in the likelihood that if he had companions, he would surely seek them out to discuss how to respond should someone approach again, to avoid further suspicion.

The invisibility talisman was purchased by Ye Yong to track the middle-aged cultivator, to ascertain whether he had accomplices and to subdue them.

It was a one-time use, lasting an hour, costing 3,000 reversal points—a steep price. As long as he kept quiet, it would prevent detection by anyone below the Transformation stage.

As for whether the other party had a Transformation cultivator? Ye Yong was quite certain they did not, perhaps not even a Nascent Soul. If they had, the moment he voiced those doubts, a powerful ally would have already struck him down. It was precisely because there were no such strong companions that the middle-aged cultivator felt apprehensive, fearing he could not achieve a swift kill and thus hesitated to act.

Employing the Dragon Step technique, Ye Yong swiftly returned to the edge of the pool.

The middle-aged monk lingered nearby, his consciousness unfurling like a dark mist, spreading outward to ensure that Ye Yong had truly departed.

Pushing his awareness to its limits, he found no trace of Ye Yong within a thousand meters, and a palpable relief washed over him. “Thank the heavens, it was but a false alarm. Yet that lad has sparked a thought in me; instead of merely muttering about the tainted waters, I ought to erect a sign, boldly declaring ‘No Bathing, No Fishing.’ That way, should any cultivator approach, I could rightfully question their intentions—whether they plan to sneak a bath or some such nonsense.”

With a decisive nod, the monk set to work, felling a nearby tree and crafting a wooden sign, his handwriting a crooked scrawl.

The transparent Ye Yong stood by, observing silently, nodding in approval.

The writing was commendable; next time, he ought not to attempt it again.

As the monk busied himself with the sign, Ye Yong took a moment to scan the surroundings. No companions had appeared; it was clear the monk was alone.

He produced a mid-level weakening incense, capable of incapacitating even a Golden Core cultivator, and waved it before the monk.

“Hmm? What is that delightful scent?” The monk, unaware of the presence beside him, instinctively inhaled deeply, trying to discern the fragrance and its source.

“Oh no! Could it be—!” Suddenly, his spiritual energy became inaccessible, his body turning to a soft, feeble state. By the time the middle-aged monk realized what was happening and attempted to seal his aura, it was far too late.

Thud. The monk collapsed to the ground, his consciousness still flickering, yet his body utterly limp. He could not fathom from whence the toxic incense had come; it felt as if it were right beside him.

—

33 Stand Still

Ye Yong waited in place for a moment, still no companions in sight; it was now certain that the monk was entirely alone.