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墨書 Inktalez
Never drink with a woman, especially one you are not interested in. In terms of appearance, if you put Wang Ni in a bar, no matter how much she drinks, there will always be men willing to pay for her. But that's because they have never seen Wang Ni's true self; when this woman goes crazy, even a few martial arts masters like Huo Yuanjia would struggle to stop her.
Once someone has witnessed Wang Ni's true nature, not even a strong heart can guarantee survival beyond the second encounter.
I consider myself quite bold, yet I have always held a sense of awe towards Wang Ni. However, I never expected that a drunken Wang Ni would be even more terrifying than when she is sober!
I couldn't hold her back at all; Wang Ni was very strong and instead pulled me along as she staggered towards the square where Lin Miaomiao and I usually practiced in the morning.
We left the hot pot restaurant around eight o'clock, and it was only half past eight now. The square still had elderly ladies dancing to the music. Square dancing has become popular in recent years and quickly swept through the middle-aged and elderly population, with not just aunties but also several uncles joining in.
As the cold wind blew through the square along with the lively music, I saw Wang Ni's throat convulse, sensing that she was about to vomit again. I quickly activated Wind Walk and helped her to the restroom in the square. Before we even entered, Wang Ni leaned over the sink next to the mop area and started to throw up. Taking advantage of this moment, I quickly washed my hands clean.
When I turned back around, Wang Ni was still bent over, dry heaving. I went over and patted her back firmly, asking,
"Are you feeling any better? Do you want me to get you a glass of water?"
Wang Ni waved her hand dismissively, rinsed her mouth with tap water, and walked out in a daze.
The stronger a person is, the more severe their loss of composure can be when it happens because they have held it in for too long.
Wang Ni walked alone to the steps of the square and sat down, curling her legs up and hugging them tightly while burying her head deep into her knees.
Wang Ni is actually not shorter than me, but when she curled up like that, she appeared as just a small bundle, slightly trembling in the darkness and cold wind.
It must be rare for her to get drunk like this.
Many people strongly reject the idea of Drinking Buddies, believing that those individuals only show loyalty when drinking and eating meat. However, on the contrary, when you are feeling particularly sad, having a few Drinking Buddies by your side to comfort you is certainly a fortunate thing. Sometimes, perhaps we do not need help but simply someone to talk to. A heartbroken person, surrounded by a group of brothers, clutching a bottle while shouting, "What are women even worth?" may have tears streaming down their face, yet their words remain defiant.
Wang Ni usually hides her passionate heart behind indifference and calmness. Although she is not a man, she is stronger, tougher, and more persistent than most men.
Yet even the strongest individuals can have soft hearts. Those who are used to shedding blood find it hard to cry, but once they start shedding tears, they become more vulnerable than anyone else.
Wang Ni remained silent for a long time before finally slowly lifting her head. When she did so, I gradually walked up the steps and sat beside her.
Wang Ni must have cried; there was no doubt about it. That is why I was reluctant to approach her at that moment. Everyone has the right to be vulnerable. If I had gone over right away, Wang Ni would have pretended not to care again. Instead of that, what harm would it do to let her vent her feelings?
"Yin Zheng'an," Wang Ni finally spoke.
"Yes, I'm here."
"Teach me Spell."
I knew there would always be a moment like this with Wang Ni, but I was still only half-knowledgeable myself, let alone teaching her. However, among the people I know, Old Black and Old Bai are from the Underworld and use spells specifically targeting souls. Red Boy's main combat strength comes from True Fire and his innate combat talent (after all, he has strong genes). Uncle Xing is a war god but mainly relies on brute force, while Sun God is even less relevant—he's just a civil official...
"Sister Ni, you know that my combat strength mainly comes from drawing talismans. What I can teach you is just the Wind Walking Technique." I analyzed: "Moreover, you don't really need the Wind Walking Technique; you can directly use your magical power."
"That's true." Wang Ni pondered for a moment before lowering her head again.
"How about this, Sister Ni? I'll teach you breathing techniques." After thinking it over, I decided that teaching Wang Ni our basics would be the most appropriate course of action.
Taoist cultivation is actually quite simple. It involves inhaling and exhaling to absorb the energy between the earth and oneself, nurturing this energy in the Dantian, and through this energy, cultivating the existence of the spirit (here, the spirit refers to the embryonic form of the Primordial Spirit). The spirit then generates magical power. This magical power circulates around the body and returns to the Dantian after completing a cycle. Only then can this magical power be stored in the Dantian. Through inhalation and exhalation, the Dantian expands, allowing for more energy to nurture the spirit. When the spirit is nurtured to its limit, it undergoes transformation, becoming the Primordial Infant. When the Primordial Infant is nurtured to its limit and transforms into the Primordial Spirit, one can ascend during the day as a Carefree Immortal.
While this may sound simple, very few have been able to endure such a tedious method of cultivation throughout history. Most cultivators have been absorbed into higher celestial ranks, serving their respective realms.
Of course, there are many who have diligently cultivated for decades but have fallen into madness or strayed into demonic paths. Even more so, some see Taoist cultivation as a long and arduous journey and turn to Evil Techniques that yield quicker results. For instance, Mr. Cui is one such example.
What I plan to teach Wang Ni is less about inhalation and exhalation and more about how to control magical power. Wang Ni's magical power should be innate; she is like someone guarding a treasure mountain but not spending any of it, and her treasure mountain will not continue to grow. My goal is to teach her not only how to spend money but also how to earn it.
"It's getting late. How about this: let's meet here tomorrow morning. I'll teach you some basics, and later you can seek out those with higher cultivation levels to become their disciples." I tried to keep my voice low so that only Wang Ni could hear.
Wang Ni remained silent for a long time, motionless, simply gazing at the inconspicuous moon above. After a while, she let out a soft sigh.
"Yin Zheng'an, do you think I am an ill-fated person?" Wang Ni's voice carried a hint of melancholy and solitude. "I was born orphaned; my grandmother didn't want to raise me and sent me to an orphanage."
Wang Ni began recounting her story in a detached tone.
Over twenty years ago, a baby girl was born. Her mother died from excessive bleeding during childbirth. After giving birth, she passed away. The girl's father met with an accident on his way to the hospital—struck by a piece of glass that fell from above—and lost his life as well.
The villagers regarded her as an ill-omened arrival; even her biological grandmother refused to accept her.
"The people at the orphanage didn't know my background, so they treated me fairly well at first. But when I turned ten, someone revealed my parents' story to them, and from then on, my nightmare began."
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