388: Chapter 388 Cultivating Morality or Unleashing a Bloodbath?

Fang Cheng originally wanted to take this opportunity to show off his skills in the kitchen and practice his Culinary Arts skill along the way.

However, as soon as he moved, he was pulled back by Ma Jianguo, who insisted that he stay and chat.

Once the chatterbox opened, there was no stopping it; they talked from the origins of martial arts to health-preservation tips, and then from health tips to news about medical corruption.

Finally, the topic inevitably drifted in a direction all elders were passionate about.

"A-Cheng, you're in your twenties now, right? Do you have a girlfriend?"

As soon as this topic came up, even Professor Wu Dewang, who was passing by, perked up his ears and shuffled over with a chuckling smile, looking just like a scout preparing to gather intelligence.

Height, weight, birth date and time, Family background...

The two old men played off each other, asking in meticulous detail.

They were short of directly pulling out their phones to flip through photos of every eligible girl among their relatives to arrange a grand blind date.

Fang Cheng was caught between laughter and tears by this sudden wave of enthusiastic grilling, and could only deal with it helplessly with a few vague answers.

Then, his eyes darted as he steered the topic away:

"Junior Martial Uncle Ma, how come I don't see Brother Donghe?"

"Isn't he applying for the Special Investigation Team and preparing for the re-examination? At such a crucial time, he isn't even coming back for lunch?"

At the mention of his son, Ma Jianguo's expression instantly grew complicated, filled with disappointment at his lack of progress, yet mingled with a trace of concern.

"Don't mention that brat!"

Ma Jianguo snorted and muttered:

"Donghe's initial exam results weren't great, so I locked him in a cave to let him reflect on himself."

What he called "confinement" was actually an ancestral ascetic Cultivation Technique of the Ma Family.

The practitioner needed to fast without food or water in an isolated environment, relying solely on their willpower and Qigong cultivation to combat hunger and loneliness.

Supposedly, this method could greatly stimulate human potential in extreme states, forcibly stealing a sliver of vitality from the world.

This was also the Stealing Heaven's Secrets technique that Fang Cheng had once attempted based on the theory Ma Jianguo explained.

Back then, on Yongan Island, he had dived into the depths of an ocean trench to hold his breath and meditate, thereby unlocking the Qigong skill, which greatly boosted his mental and physical attributes.

However, this method carried extremely high risks, putting extraordinary torment on one's Heart-Nature and body; the slightest misstep would lead to Qi Deviation.

As Ma Jianguo spoke, he looked at Fang Cheng with quite a stirred expression.

He felt that given Fang Cheng's once-in-a-century Aptitude, if he were to use the Ma Family's special Cultivation Technique, he might be able to take another giant leap forward.

Fang Cheng hurriedly shook his head in refusal.

What a joke.

It was fine to let him do secluded cultivation, but enduring hunger without eating was absolutely out of the question.

In his heart, he silently shed a tear of sympathy for Ma Donghe, who was starving far away in the cave.

He really was too miserable.

"Sigh..."

Touched by his worries, Ma Jianguo couldn't help sighing, looking outside the courtyard, his words full of a father's complex emotions.

"Our Ma Family has only this one single lineage, but he doesn't look like me at all. Grown so big, yet still so useless."

"You know, his great-grandfather was a renowned martial arts Great Grandmaster in Xia Nation. Though not as brilliantly talented as Senior Li, his Qigong cultivation had already reached mastery, touching the threshold of 'True Essence Vessel Casting'."

"Back in the day, the old Master was deeply appreciated by the President. Not only did he serve as a personal bodyguard, but he was also appointed as the first headmaster of the National Martial Arts Academy."

Saying this, he picked up his teacup and took a sip:

"Heh, if we really talk about seniority, the investigators of the Special Investigation Team today would have to respectfully call us Ma Family members Ancestral Master when they see us."

Ma Jianguo's eyes showed a look of recollection, filled with pride in the Family's past glory.

However, when his thoughts returned to reality, his tone turned somewhat listless again.

"Originally, I really didn't want Donghe to go to a foul place like the Special Investigation Team."

"The Special Investigation Team today is long unlike what it used to be. People's hearts are impetuous, rules are corrupted, and there isn't a shred of a warrior's integrity left."

"It's just... forced by circumstances, there's no choice."

He shook his head, his gaze falling back onto Fang Cheng, the appreciation and affection in his eyes almost overflowing.

"That said, if that brat Donghe had half—no, even a third—of your talent, my old bones wouldn't have to worry so much."

The old man said, reaching out to pat Fang Cheng's shoulder, his tone filled with sincere emotion:

"A-Cheng, how wonderful would it be if you were my grandson! If that were the case, I'd have no regrets in this life..."

Fang Cheng maintained an awkwardly polite smile on his face.

In his heart, he silently complained.

Ma Donghe is your son, and I become your grandson? The generation seniority is completely messed up.

"A-Cheng, regarding the Visualization Technique I mentioned to you before..."

Ma Jianguo wanted to continue rambling, but swallowed his words halfway through.

His brows twitched and his expression changed slightly, as if sensing something.

"That brat, what trouble is he causing now?"

After cursing under his breath, an anxious look appeared on Ma Jianguo's face.

"No, I have to go check!"

Before his voice died away, he abruptly stood up and rushed out of the courtyard gate without even saying goodbye, heading straight toward the mountain behind the village.

Judging by that posture, something must have gone wrong at the place where Ma Donghe was in secluded cultivation.

Watching Ma Jianguo leave, Fang Cheng retracted his gaze and finally let out a long sigh of relief.

Then he stood up and stretched his slightly stiff body.

In the courtyard, Professor Wu Dewang and several other old men gathered around the water basin, cheerfully processing slaughtered chickens and fish to prepare a sumptuous feast, their discussions and laughter drifting over from time to time.

Fang Cheng's heart moved slightly, and he walked toward the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Dong Yunchuan was wearing an apron, holding a kitchen knife, and gesturing over a piece of pork belly on the cutting board.

He was muttering to himself, looking every bit like a chef about to show off his mastery.

"Junior Martial Uncle Dong, let me help you."

Fang Cheng walked over.

"No need, you just wait to eat."

Dong Yunchuan didn't even raise his head, his voice filled with confidence.

Fang Cheng smiled and didn't insist further.

He simply picked up a freshly descaled grouper from the nearby sink and asked:

"How do you plan to cook this fish?"

"Braised in soy sauce! It's my specialty!"

Dong Yunchuan patted his chest in guarantee.

"Then we should make a few scores on the fish first so the flavor gets in."

As Fang Cheng spoke, he casually picked up another clean kitchen knife from the cutting board.

Then, pressing his left hand lightly on the slippery fish body, his right wrist flicked, cold light flashing.

Only a series of soft "swish, swish, swish" sounds could be heard.

In less than two seconds, he placed the kitchen knife steadily back in its place.

Dong Yunchuan leaned over out of curiosity and instantly froze.

On the fish's body, several knife cuts were evenly distributed at an unknown moment.

The depth, length, and even the angle at which the fish skin peeled back were almost identical for every single cut.

It looked like a piece of artwork measured and sliced by the most precise instruments.

"Your knife skills... where did you learn them?"

Dong Yunchuan asked in surprise.

"Around the time I graduated from college, I did odd jobs in a kitchen."

Fang Cheng casually explained.

Zhang Haixiang, who had just walked in holding the prepped chicken, heard the noise and leaned over to take a look, marveling aloud in astonishment.

Over the next while, control of the kitchen quietly shifted hands without anyone realizing it.

Fang Cheng didn't stand on ceremony either and took over the stove directly.

Cutting vegetables, prepping ingredients, tossing the wok, seasoning—the series of actions flowed like water, subtly containing a marvelous sense of muscle rhythm and control.

It was as if he wasn't cooking, but rehearsing an exquisite set of martial arts Moves.

The heavy iron wok felt light as nothing in his hands.

With every toss, the food in the wok traced a perfect parabola in the air before being caught steadily, without a single drop of sauce splashing out.

Dong Yunchuan, who prided himself on his Culinary Arts, could only act as an assistant on the side, thoroughly humbled.

He had already adapted to the succession of shocks, becoming almost numb.

There was no helping it; this kid was simply too outstanding.

He naturally thought that highly gifted people were like this—mastering one skill meant mastering all.

That was simply beyond the reach of ordinary people.

More than half an hour later, a rich feast was set on the large round table in the main room.

The braised grouper was glossy red and fragrant; the spicy diced chicken was numbingly hot, savory, and appetite-inducing.

In addition, there were several mountain delicacies, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, and a pot of golden-brothed Buddha Jumps Over the Wall made with exquisite ingredients.

Of course, the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall was stewed beforehand by Master Dong, having nothing to do with Fang Cheng.

The dishes were not excessively numerous, but their aroma filled the room, each looking as exquisite as if prepared by a star-rated hotel chef.

By this time, Ma Jianguo had returned from the back mountain, carrying his usual serene smile on his face.

Evidently, Ma Donghe must have only caused a minor issue, nothing serious.

As the host and president, he raised his glass in a toast:

"Today is a joyous day for our Martial Arts Research Association. Thanks to Fang Cheng, everyone eat and drink well, don't stand on ceremony!"

"Come, come, try it out! This was made by the future pillar of our Martial Arts Research Association with his own hands!"

Dong Yunchuan was the first to pick up his chopsticks; although his position as head chef had been taken, the pride on his face now was even stronger than if he had cooked himself.

The others didn't stand on ceremony either, taking seats casually regardless of rank, and picked up their chopsticks to eat.

"Mmm, delicious! This fish is fried crisp on the outside and tender inside, the sauce has soaked right into the bones!"

"This diced chicken has the perfect heat control—a second more and it'd be tough, a second less and it'd be raw. Incredible!"

Fang Cheng wore a smile, gazing at the prompt that floated before his eyes.

[Culinary Arts EXP +20]

[Culinary Arts Lv.1 (168/250)]

How could it not be delicious?

To prepare this feast, he had applied the delicate force-control methods taught by his Masters to managing the heat, making the force behind every stir-fry precise and spot-on.

The growth of his Culinary Arts experience was naturally much faster than usual, taking a massive jump forward.

The old men praised it endlessly, and the atmosphere at the dining table grew even more lively.

They exchanged toasts, chatting about past stories of the Martial Forest, their grandchildren, and their expectations for the future, enjoying harmonious warmth.

The meal was enjoyed by both host and guests, lasting until two in the afternoon.

Afterward, everyone drank tea in the courtyard to digest, chatting for a long while.

It wasn't until the sun tilted westward and dusk approached that Fang Cheng stood up to take his leave.

The interest in talking among the other old men gradually subsided as well, and they bade farewell one after another, preparing to leave.

Just before Fang Cheng got into his SUV, Ma Jianguo suddenly called out to him.

"A-Cheng."

The Tai Chi Sect Head looked at Fang Cheng with a particularly solemn gaze.

"Earlier I didn't get a chance to tell you, but back when you first started learning Qigong, I warned you that you were still in the Foundation-building phase, and touching upon 'Visualization Technique' too early would do more harm than good."

"But looking at it now..."

He shifted his topic, deep expectation shining in his eyes.

"With your current Foundation and Heart-Nature, perhaps you can already get early access to this Cultivation Technique involving higher-level mental cultivation."

Fang Cheng felt a sudden stir in his heart.

Regarding the Visualization Technique, he had indeed considered how to bring it up to ask Ma Jianguo for guidance.

It was just that on his mental level, he possessed the secret of the Memory Palace, as well as certain hidden, eerie entities.

Worrying that it might be exposed during cultivation and cause unnecessary misunderstandings, he had refrained from taking the initiative to speak up.

"However, before that, you still need to make full preparations."

Unaware of Fang Cheng's thoughts, Ma Jianguo meticulously instructed further:

"After returning, don't rush for quick results. It's best if you bathe and change into clean clothes, sit quietly for two hours every morning and evening, and maintain this for about a week to let your mind completely settle down, free of outside thoughts and unblemished by dust."

"Once your body and mind reach the cleanest, most peaceful state, come back to my place to attempt cultivating the Visualization Technique; only then will you achieve twice the result with half the effort."

Self-cultivation?

Hearing these four familiar words, Fang Cheng's expression turned a bit strange.

This weekend, an operation targeting the Noah Organization could begin at any moment.

And he was still planning to play his role in the bloody game and go on a slaughter spree.

Despite snickering internally, he nodded seriously on the surface to agree.

After all, he was also very curious to know how the so-called "Visualization Technique" differed from the Meditation he practiced.

Fang Cheng thanked them again, waving goodbye to everyone with a smile.

Then, under Ma Jianguo's gratified gaze, he drove the black SUV slowly away from Tianxin Village.

The wheels kicked up dust as the village road receded.

In the rearview mirror, Fang Cheng's face was clearly reflected.

The gentle smile on his face had long vanished without a trace, replaced by a cold chill.

The SUV merged into the suburban main road, and the traffic began to thicken.

The outline of the distant city emerged in the dusk.

Scattered lights began to twinkle, replacing the afterglow of the setting sun and staining the sky in hazy colors.

Holding the steering wheel with one hand, Fang Cheng pulled his phone out of his bag and checked it.

The call log was completely blank, without a single missed call.

"It's already Saturday. Haven't Cheng Jiashu and the others taken action yet?"

Frowning slightly, Fang Cheng muttered to himself in a low voice, feeling a bit disappointed in his heart.

Night silently descended at this moment as the last ray of sunset was swallowed by the horizon.

By the time the vehicle drove into the underground garage of Haitian Garden, the outside was pitch black.

With a "clack", the apartment door closed behind him.

Returning home, he was greeted by pure darkness and silence.

Fang Cheng didn't turn on the light; he casually tossed his satchel onto the sofa and sat down himself, his body sinking into the soft leather cushion.

His eyes flickered slightly in the dark, as if electric sparks were brewing within.

After sitting quietly for a moment, he slowly closed his eyelids.

His entire presence converged to the extreme, as if merging into one with the surrounding darkness.

Fang Cheng sank his consciousness deep into his mind, reaching toward the starry dome within the Memory Palace.

His Mental Energy was like an invisible thread, instantly extending outward, passing through the city's reinforced concrete, and traversing through countless clamors and crowds.

Finally, it precisely locked onto a familiar consciousness coordinate.

The instant the connection succeeded, a surge of pop music and noisy human voices flooded into his mind like a tide.

His vision switched accordingly.

Through the target's pupils, he could see crowds surging around, traffic weaving through, in the middle of a bustling commercial street.

Ahead were several towering skyscrapers piercing the clouds, with various advertisements playing on their glass curtain walls.

Dazzling light and shadow transformations illuminated half the night sky.

Fang Cheng composed his mind, and his consciousness rapidly condensed into a voice inside the target's head:

"A-Ren, what's going on with Noah Pharmaceuticals right now?" (End of chapter)