Cultivation Nerd: Chapter 343

Chapter 343 - Inside The Mind

The world was white.

I stood beneath a sky of frozen glass, its surface glinting with ice. The moon blinked once, like an eye studying me from above.

I was inside the tiger’s mind. That much was clear. But it was… more developed than I’d expected.

This was why I disliked using my technique to read or control minds. Every connection was a two-way bridge. When I forced open another’s thoughts, mine became exposed in turn, intent bleeding both ways.

Thanks to my teacher and Song Song, I knew what an average Core Formation creature’s mindscape looked like. But this one was different. More structured. Older. Stranger.

“Human,” said a deep voice from the frozen heavens, smooth and confident. “Now that our minds are connected, I can sense your emotions. You’re not afraid of me, though you should be. You do realize there’s no escape from here, yes?”

“Can you read my thoughts or memories?” I asked.

“No,” he replied calmly. “Can you read mine?”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s… a bit weird, though. Also, your mind’s all kinds of twisted, you’ve started finding humans attractive. Are you a special case, or just an outlier?”

When beasts reached the Nascent Soul Realm, they could assume human form. It wasn’t rare for them to mix bloodlines with humans. I’d once theorized that ascension didn’t change their instincts and that some were simply eccentric by nature. Humans, even if they could transform into other species, rarely found animals attractive.

…Then again, mermaids existed, even in my previous life. Half-fish, half-human. So maybe I shouldn’t judge too harshly.

Alright. Enough digressing. This was a battle of minds, not a philosophical debate.

“Our mental strength is similar,” he said after a pause, his tone thoughtful. “But it feels as though you have the advantage.”

It was likely my Sky Grade Technique, the one designed specifically to dominate beasts. It must’ve bridged the gap between us, leveling the field where it should’ve been impossible.

“I don’t sense panic from you,” I said. “Even though you must know what comes next. Are you confident you’ll win?”

Part of me was baiting him. Another part was genuinely curious.

“I have lived a long life,” came his voice from above, and the icy mist twisted, shaping itself into a massive white tiger. Its dark spots on its fur bled faint shadows that drifted like smoke. “I’ve experienced much. Few have ever dared challenge me. But you–”

His tone lowered, almost reverent. “You’re strange. I can taste your emotions. You suppress your fear so tightly that it feels like madness, like a naked man sprinting through snow, chased by wolves, grinning through the pain. I’ve never encountered that before. It’s… humbling. I feel powerless.”

He wasn’t wrong, and his words cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

But I still smiled. “Tell me, then, what would you do if you faced an enemy you knew you could never defeat, no matter how hard you tried?”

The beast snorted. “What does it look like I’m doing now? I can sense that fighting you here would only end with my consciousness erased. The only thing left is to accept defeat with some dignity. Perhaps you should do the same, young human.”

He wasn’t wrong. But I’d never been the type to care about dignity.

If begging or crying for my life could save me one day, I’d do it without hesitation. There were people I’d risk everything for, but that didn’t mean I valued my own life so little that I’d die for pride.

I would cheat, lie, steal, stab, blackmail, and claw my way through any filth it took to survive. Even if it meant my name rotted in infamy for a thousand years, so long as I lived to see another sunrise, I’d consider it a victory. 

My pride was nothing compared to the thought of spending one more day learning all I could from this amazing world. 

After spending so much time around him, I’d learned the art of the cockroach from Song San.

“Either way,” the tiger said, stretching like a lazy cat, “let’s get this mental battle over with. It’s just my bad luck to meet people like you today. My life’s been comfortable until now, my bloodline lets me cultivate faster than most humans, and my lifespan’s a dozen times longer.”

He tilted his head, his fanged grin faintly amused. “Maybe this is my luck catching up to me.”

I waited silently, letting him make the first move.

“Still not attacking?” he asked. “I can feel your curiosity; you’re waiting for me to start, aren’t you? That habit will get you killed one day. Did you forget I’m a stage higher? You’re barely at Foundation Establishment!”

His growl rose into a full roar, echoing across the frozen world. “Do not underestimate me, human!”

He wasn’t wrong again.

If I ever died, it would probably be because I hesitated to see what kind of tricks my opponent had, and they turned out to have one I couldn’t block or dodge.

The tiger’s spiritual body dissolved into mist, condensing into a beam of pure intent that shot toward me. It was mesmerizing as the sheer velocity of thought turned to light.

His mental energy surged, swelling beyond its earlier limit. His emotions fueled it like a storm, granting him perhaps twenty percent more power than before. His will pressed against mine, raw and violent like a tidal wave of fury straining to crush me through sheer force.

But that same anger that strengthened him also betrayed him. His power flared wild and uneven, bursting outward without control. Each wave was jagged, riddled with holes, and was brute energy without precision.

Every surge left openings. Every roar carried an imbalance.

For all his strength, he was still an amateur in the art of the mind. 

This wasn't going to be easy to handle by any measure. Still, I had been prepared for his consciousness to slip into my mind, where I would experience a fate worse than death.

My mental energy surged forward like a sharpened needle, cutting through his turbulent aura with effortless precision. His defenses parted like cloth, his wild bursts of power offering little resistance.

But when my strike reached deeper toward the core of his mind and soul, the momentum faltered. The sensation shifted sharply, as though I’d driven that same needle into stone. His inner self was dense, compacted by instinct, emotion, and sheer willpower unyielding in a way brute force could never breach. Every attempt to press further sent ripples of strain through my consciousness, the mental equivalent of trying to carve granite with a thread of steel.

Possible… but painfully slow.

I was confident I could hold out. But if he learned to control his mental energy in the meantime, the gap between us would become insurmountable. He was a Core Formation beast, after all.

Typically, piercing through a mind like this required a perfect shot like a once-in-a-lifetime strike that relied as much on luck as precision.

The world froze around me as I activated my Foundation Technique. 

Here, in this mental plane, physics didn’t restrict me. Speed, time, and movement bent to my will.

In an instant, my consciousness pierced through his defenses and reached the core of his mind and soul.

I felt everything. His cultivation, his element, his history lay bare and open like a dissected body.

And then my Eight Mind Phantoms Technique began to stir, spreading imaginary root-like appendages that sank into his essence. They latched onto his mind and soul, branching out like parasitic veins through every corner of his consciousness.

It was grotesque in a way, watching the abstract representation of control take hold. The resistance faded, and within moments, the beast was utterly mine.

A centuries-old creature, who had spent a lifetime cultivating and surviving, now enslaved by someone with mediocre talent and a fraction of his experience. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

“Sorry,” I murmured into the stillness. “But if you’re lucky and I die, you’ll get your freedom back.”

He couldn’t hear me, not anymore. But when control eventually returned to him, he would remember the words.

I believed in a world of equal opportunity, where everyone could strive toward their best selves. Even when I cursed my stronger enemies for their intelligence or talent, deep down I wanted that kind of challenge.

The ego from my past life, the one obsessed with being the best, with living well, with proving I wasn’t a parasite, had faded. Here, I was just trying to learn as much as I could and encouraging others to do the same.

But mind control went against everything I stood for.

Unfortunately, the world didn’t care about ideals. Not now. The situation was dire, and even if this creature would never reach his full potential again, I couldn’t afford sentimentality.

“Well,” I muttered, closing my eyes as the mental landscape shimmered around me. “Let’s see if you have anything useful in those memories.”

I slowed time with my Foundation Technique and began sifting through his recollections carefully, making sure his thoughts wouldn’t bleed into mine.

This guy had spent most of his life inside the cave, doing nothing. Whenever boredom struck, he just slept. When curiosity stirred, he’d spread his senses to observe what was happening across his territory.

Honestly, it reminded me of someone who spent all day in bed scrolling through their phone. Except this one didn’t scroll through social media, he just used spiritual sense to spy on squirrels.

“Oh, this is interesting,” I murmured.

In his memories, this was the second most dangerous encounter he’d ever faced, right after me. Back then, three Foundation Establishment Cultivators had been chasing him, all around his level. Among them, I could swear one of them was my ancestor. The man’s wind techniques were too familiar to be a coincidence.

There were no photos or portraits of him, just the diary he’d left behind, and a few paintings passed down through the Liu Clan. Still, from the way he moved, I could see the resemblance.

The other two wore Blazing Sun Sect uniforms, while my ancestor was in plain robes. And just as I thought that, he turned and decapitated one of his companions with a wind blade.

The other stared in horror, and the two of them clashed. The tiger used that distraction to escape, so I had no idea what happened afterward.

“Okay, so my ancestor really was on that rogue cultivator path,” I muttered.

If that was him, his diary had left a lot out. From his writings, he came off like a century-old virgin who finally decided to have kids just to pass on the family name.

“A lot of these old folks knew each other,” I murmured.

By timeline, the founder of the Liu Clan should be just a bit older than Zun Gon and my teacher, perhaps a few decades or half a century at most. Given how quickly Sect disciples advanced back then, they probably belonged to the same generation in terms of strength.

Though he hadn’t left much inheritance for the clan, the man was apparently well-known in his prime as a peak Core Formation cultivator.

Other than that, the tiger’s life was uneventful. His parents had died of old age centuries ago, unable to advance further. He’d surpassed them, fulfilled their hopes, and reached Core Formation himself.

It was… a happy life, all things considered. Peaceful, even, just lonely.

“What a shame,” I said softly. “I wouldn’t have minded someone like you joining the organization I’m planning to build.”

My consciousness slipped from his mind, and the world reformed around me.

My hand was still pressed to the tiger’s forehead. Beside me, Song Song stood watching, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You still Liu Feng, or what?” she asked flatly.

“No,” I said dryly. “I’m the tiger. I just transferred out of a top-tier body with a royal bloodline and godlike talent, so I could take over this guy with average talent and slightly better-than-average roots.”

Song Song blinked. “Okay, no need to be so sarcastic,” she sighed. “But still, taking over a beast that even I’d have trouble beating one-on-one? That’s impressive. Even for you.”

I turned toward her, took my hand off the tiger’s forehead, and raised a questioning brow.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “We should head back to the sect and get my silver mirror. I’ll use it to hide our new friend and trump card.”

“Huh…” She stared at me suspiciously.

“What?” It was my turn to ask.

“It feels like you're gathering more power. You were never the type to chase power for the sake of having it,” she said slowly, eyes narrowing. “Especially not when it meant taking this kind of risk. If there’s a problem above your level, you could always tell me… So why are you doing this? Did you lose confidence in my power? Think I can’t protect you anymore?”

“Not at all,” I shook my head. “But people change. I just felt in the mood to get some–”

“You wouldn’t lie to me,” she interrupted, tone flat. “But you’re lying right now.” 

Her gaze sharpened, cutting straight through my calm. “Just because I leave the thinking to you doesn’t mean I’m stupid. You know that. And yet, you’re rushing things. Sloppily. You never do sloppy work. What has got you so panicked?”

My blood ran cold, but I didn’t look away.

Anyone else would’ve been easy to deceive, but we’d spent too much time together. She knew my patterns, my habits, my tells.

“Why are you rushing?” she pressed, rubbing her chin as her eyes glimmered with insight. “You’re afraid. Of what? It has to be something involving me.”

Sooner or later, she’d hit the mark. So I just spoke her language.

“Can you please let me do my thing,” I said honestly, “and not dig too deep into it?”

Her lips curled into a smug grin, the satisfaction of a cat that finally caught the mouse. “See? All those boring elder meetings paid off. Sooner or later, I might not even need you.”

“True,” I smiled.

“You’ll go from main strategist of our little team,” she puffed her chest proudly, “to assistant strategist.”

I chuckled. She’d be furious once my plans unfolded, but that was fine. By then, she’d have all the tools she needed to stand on her own.

Song Song had finally developed the kind of strategic mind that would let her reach her peak, even without me. And in the worst case, she still had Fu Yating by her side.

Everything was ready. All that was left was to wait for the right moment to set things in motion.

“How about we hunt a few more beasts?” I asked casually.

That last battle had drained more of my mental energy than I’d like to admit. My Eight Mind Phantoms Technique still had a few open control slots to fill.

“Of course,” she grinned. “I sense three Foundation Establishment beasts a couple of mountain ranges that way.” 

She pointed north.

I nodded, and together we walked out, the great tiger padding silently behind us as we moved at breakneck speed through the snow.