Chapter 57: Eating and Drinking

At dawn, the warm sunlight streamed into the room, illuminating it.

Ye Qingshi slowly woke to find a bare-chested boy seated cross-legged at the head of her bed, utterly still.

The girl’s eyes snapped wide open; her drowsy mind instantly cleared, filled with shock.

How did I end up in bed with him?

“Awake?” Fang Can spoke calmly, his back to her, but Ye Qingshi heard fierce malice in his voice.

“Go wash up. You have half an hour to stretch your legs. Then come back and hold me again.” Fang Can’s eyes were red as he spoke.

He had maintained Evil Tiger Devouring Body all night and felt blood rushing to his brain—his mind hazy, as if drugged, craving to tear everything apart.

She lightly patted her body, confirmed her clothes were intact, and sighed in relief—then immediately doubted her own allure.

She shot a light glare at the solid back before him, said nothing, and quietly ran out the door.

Fang Can ignored her retreating figure and closed his eyes once more.

It was still the same: his priority for martial training >> deep interaction with the opposite sex.

After all, in his constant Genius State, both willpower and judgment ensured he always made rational choices, never swayed by base urges.

But this all assumed mating offered no benefit to martial cultivation.

If Fang Can obtained a scripture that advanced his realm through dual cultivation, he would transform from an absolute rational sage into a world-raping demon.

Then, starting with Ye Qingshi before him, he might truly follow the “if” path predicted by Yuan Dang.

Even now, with steady progress, he was merely delaying that moment.

The entire morning, Fang Can spent in martial training; as he slowly concluded his practice, his attributes rose noticeably.

Name: Fang Can

Body: 5.8

Spirit: 5.8

Qi: 5.8

Flesh Transformation: 21.8%

……

“Finally, Xuanguan Second Stage.” Fang Can exhaled a turbid breath; after a night of grueling practice, his strength had increased by another ton.

At this rate, when his flesh transformation reaches 100%, his muscle explosive power should reach 40 tons.

Combined with Evil Tiger Devouring Body, it could stack to 100 tons—but was this truly the limit of his body?

He twisted his body lightly and stepped out of the room, ready for today’s sparring.

Far away, Yuan Dang watched in horror as Fang Can emerged from his senior sister’s chamber, dressing as he walked. His heart felt like it was bleeding.

His senior sister, whom he dared not even touch, had been claimed by this thief—how many days had passed? Already sharing a room.

Yuan Dang gritted his teeth, staring at Fang Can’s back: ‘Fang Can, you’re born a demon. Beneath your pursuit of the martial Dao lies humanity’s deepest desire. For you, mating is as simple as eating and drinking…’

Unaware he was being called a demon, Fang Can left immediately after learning the locations of today’s three unlucky targets from Ye Yonglie.

Outside Huanmeng Tower, Fang Can did not bow at the gate—he walked straight in, crushing their mental images with pure force.

Sure enough, after a few breaths, a worn-looking black-robed elder stepped out, hands behind his back.

‘I am Fang Can. I seek sparring with Liegui.’ Fang Can bowed.

Two incense sticks later, Fang Can wiped the blood oozing from his cheek’s broken skin and strode out of Huanmeng Tower.

Behind him, a group of disciples surrounded their unconscious master, their eyes filled with awe as they stared at Fang Can’s departing figure.

‘Liegui’s Dissipating Body was shattered by a purer form of Dissipating Force,’ muttered a seasoned martial artist watching nearby, his shock unmistakable.

Scene shift: seventy li away, outside Xuan’an Hall.

Fang Can absorbed three strikes from his opponent with pure Dissipating Force, then reversed with joint locks to snap the hall master’s arm, rendering him unable to train for days.

He hadn’t even activated Evil Tiger Devouring Body—merely using the Dissipating Force he’d learned from the previous Liegui had ended the fight.

‘Thank you for the match,’ Fang Can said, wiping blood from his mouth and bowing, walking away as the hall master watched helplessly.

At dusk, Fang Can staggered out of Kuangmo Alley, coughing blood, his clothes torn, his body bruised purple and blue.

Three consecutive battles—he’d prolonged each to steal techniques, exhausting his mental image mid-fight and causing unexpected complications.

Behind Fang Can, every disciple of the Kuangmo Cave lay dead, blood soaking the ground.

They’d tried to swarm him while his mental image was spent—deserved death, so he’d taken the time to kill them all.

As night fell, Fang Can coughed blood while leaning against the wall, heading back toward Liyang Martial Hall.

Today’s three battles had yielded remarkable results: beyond technique gains, his flesh transformation rose again—to 23.4%!

‘Tomorrow, I’ll fight ten at once,’ Fang Can thought, then sighed—these martial artists were too far apart; traveling wasted too much time.

‘If only these people could gather in one place, letting me challenge them one by one…’ he mused.

‘Master, you’re finally back!’ Seeing Fang Can, Ye Yonglie exhaled in relief.

As for the bloodstains—trivial matters. Martial cultivators lost limbs, limped, it was nothing.

So long as they didn’t die instantly, even if their head was severed, they could pick it up, reattach it, wrap it in gauze, and recover in a year or two.

‘Hmm. Pick ten more for me tomorrow,’ Fang Can said flatly.

‘There’s something you should know,’ Yan Zhi added:

‘Since you’ve been challenging well-known mental-image martial artists, several halls have received word and are preparing to unite.’

‘Oh? Planning to rally and punish me?’ Fang Can’s eyes lit up—he’d been worried he couldn’t find enough opponents.

‘No,’ Yan Zhi said. ‘They’re arranging a single location for you to spar, so you won’t have to run around.’

‘What?’ Fang Can’s eyes widened—he thought he’d misheard. When had martial artists become this accommodating?

‘Apparently, the master of Husha Men suspects the challenger is a former disciple and flew into a rage—he won’t let a banished disciple act so arrogantly.’

Yan Zhi scratched his head, baffled: ‘So he ordered us to gather and defeat this renegade properly, to uphold Husha Men’s honor.’

Fang Can: ‘…The Husha Men Master’s invisible hand is still at work. How magnificent.’

Unaware of the truth, Yan Zhi and the others muttered among themselves, puzzled—how was this different from group tutoring? Weren’t they just feeding a tiger?

‘And now, Husha Men’s people must regret it to their bones,’ remarked many outsiders, gleeful at their misfortune.

They’d kicked out such a rising star—now they’re furious and losing big. What were they thinking back then?

(End of Chapter)