The Dynasty of Cultivating Immortality

C27 – Genius Young Man

“The Dark Orchid is somewhat delicate; you need to water it gently,” Ni Huibo remarked, tending to the potted plant before him without glancing back.

Teng Feimei was taken aback. She clumsily grabbed the spray bottle and began to mimic his actions. As the prime minister’s disciple, her focus was typically on her cultivation, and she had never delved into horticulture. However, she quickly grew more adept. Curiosity piqued, she turned to him and inquired, “Do you spend your days studying these flowers and plants?”

Pausing his work, Ni Huibo set the watering can aside and replied, “My aunt sends me quite a few books each year, so I read whenever I find the time.”

“What about your cultivation?” Teng Feimei asked, puzzled.

She had witnessed Ni Huibo’s combat prowess the day before. He had effortlessly defeated Ni Zongzhao, a first-level combatant, with a single strike. Ni Huibo was certainly at the late period of the first level, if not already advanced to the second level. It was astonishing that someone of his caliber spent his days engrossed in books and flowers.

Ni Huibo’s brow furrowed slightly as he pondered her question. “I haven’t focused much on cultivating before. It’s only recently that I’ve embarked on the Immortal Path.”

“You haven’t cultivated much? What realm are you at now?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“You don’t know?” echoed Teng Feimei, her surprise evident.

If Ni Huibo hadn’t maintained such a grave demeanor, she might have thought he was deceiving her and reacted angrily.

For those on the Immortal Path, their cultivation realm is as vital as life itself. Every practitioner monitors their progress closely, cherishing even the slightest advancement in their realm.

In this age of survival of the fittest, personal power is synonymous with status. Yet here was Ni Huibo, seemingly unaware of his own level.

​”You’re definitely hiding something. How can you be oblivious to your own strength?” Teng Feimei challenged, scrutinizing Ni Huibo as if trying to discern the truth in his expression.

Ni Huibo met her gaze and asserted firmly, “I’m telling the truth.”

Seeing his serious expression, Teng Feimei couldn’t help but burst into laughter. After her giggles subsided, she extended her palm and said, “Just let me touch your hand, and I’ll be able to gauge your strength.”

She then flashed a playful grin.

Ni Huibo expressed his skepticism, “I’ve read extensively. You won’t fool me.”

With a hint of resignation, Teng Feimei explained, “This is a technique my master taught me. At a lower cultivation level, a simple touch is enough to sense the Spiritual Qi in someone’s body and determine their level.”

“Your master?”

“Yes, the current Prime Minister,” Teng Feimei said, her playful demeanor giving way to a look of reverence.

Ni Huibo nodded, recognizing the name Xue Gui, the prime minister. He relaxed and placed his right hand in Teng Feimei’s.

Her hand was pleasantly warm, and touching it felt soothing. Ni Huibo’s face flushed the moment their hands met, but his curiosity about his own realm overcame his embarrassment, and he kept his hand steady.

As he fought the impulse to withdraw his hand, a soft voice pulled him from his internal struggle.

“You’ve reached the late period of the second level?” Teng Feimei’s expression shifted from puzzlement to astonishment as she stared at the scholarly-looking young man before her, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“How can that be? I’ve diligently practiced under my master’s guidance every day, and I’ve only reached the middle period of the second level. Yet you, spending your days here tending to the garden and reading, have a higher cultivation level than I do?”

Her cultivation level had always been a source of pride for both her and her father, and even her demanding teacher couldn’t fault her progress. Reaching the middle period of the second level at such a young age made her a prodigy in all of Croburg. And now, she was being outdone by someone who seemed to barely practice at all.

“Second level, late period?” Ni Huibo repeated to himself. By now, he had a preliminary grasp of what the realms signified.

Teng Feimei fixed a stern gaze on Ni Huibo and demanded, “Be honest with me, what grade is your talent?”

Gone was her usual gentle demeanor, replaced by the fiery spirit of a girl who refused to be outdone. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. How could someone who hardly practiced have such an advanced realm, even surpassing her own? If his talent was truly that extraordinary, the Ni family would surely have made him a priority.

Ni Huibo glanced at her, his face marked by hesitation.

“I don’t know either.” Being new to the Immortal Path and having never participated in the Leap Test, he had only a rudimentary grasp of such matters and was completely unaware of his own talents and level of cultivation.

Teng Feimei pointed at Ni Huibo, her expression one of stunned silence. She seemed on the verge of speaking, but then she quickly recalled what she knew of the young man, which led her to slump in defeat, her arms falling limply to her sides as she murmured, “That makes sense. You’ve been cooped up in this courtyard all day, so of course you wouldn’t know anything.”

Over the recent days, she had pieced together bits of Ni Huibo’s story from conversations with those around her. For reasons that remained murky, he had been out of favor with his family, virtually confined to this courtyard, so his ignorance was to be expected.

Seeing that Teng Feimei remained silent, Ni Huibo walked over to a corner of the courtyard and began to sweep away the residual dirt with a broom.

His movements were slow and gentle, yet each sweep of the broom efficiently cleared the ground, leaving not a trace of dust, a testament to his proficiency.

Teng Feimei watched his sweeping, appearing torn about whether to speak. After a long pause, she gave him a profound look and then left the courtyard.

Once again, the quiet little enclave settled back into its usual tranquility, a state it had maintained for over a decade, with only the soft sound of sweeping drifting through the air.

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