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The Corpse Cultivator
Ch 3: Story of a Failed Prodigy

Ch 3: Story of a Failed Prodigy

Yin Forest, East Gate Outskirts.

The Yin forest cast long shadows as Lu Shimming stood at the eastern outskirts, the air thick with the eerie chirps of unseen creatures. A figure emerged from the gloom, a dry chuckle echoing in the stillness.

"Sometimes I question if your sight has truly returned, little brother," the figure said, amusement dancing in his eyes as he lowered his hood.

Lu Shimming's breath caught. Beneath the cloak stood a young man, no older than his mid-twenties, with a face that defied expectations. Sharp features framed piercing eyes that held a wealth of experience despite their youthful gleam. Dark hair, neatly trimmed, framed his face. He wore a midnight-blue tunic, adorned with silver embroidery that hinted at his high standing within the sect.

But the most striking detail wasn't his undeniable handsomeness, but the glint of polished metal on his knuckles. A pair of brass knuckles, worn smooth with age, rested on his hands – a stark contrast to his otherwise refined appearance. They spoke of a man comfortable with both strategy and brutal hand-to-hand combat.

"It's been a while, Senior Brother Xue Mo," Lu Shimming said with a smile, warmth filling his voice despite the physical distance. Though not blood-related, they were as close as brothers, both orphans raised by their Master since childhood.

Xue Mo sighed, his gaze sweeping over the desolate landscape. "How long do you plan to stay in this backwater? Master wants you back before the yearly competition at any cost."

Lu Shimming frowned. He understood the Master's precarious situation. His weakness and perceived lack of talent could indeed affect their Master's authority if he returned now. This was the reason for his self-imposed exile, enduring the hardships of the southeast gate. If not, he would have never come to this darned place in the first place.

"Don't fret," Xue Mo reassured him, a rare display of vulnerability in his usually confident demeanor. "With Master and me by your side, you have nothing to worry about."

Lu Shimming felt a flicker of gratitude. He knew his anxieties were transparent to Xue Mo. 'I need to reach the hundredth step in that dreamland,' he thought, a spark of determination igniting in his sightless eyes. This dreamland was his only hope. He refused to believe it was merely a figment of his imagination. In the world of cultivation, anything was possible. He had heard stories of cultivators undergoing similar trials to awaken dormant bloodline powers. Perhaps this was his path as well. After all, it explained his stagnation in cultivation for so many years.

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"Are you still stuck at the entry point?" Xue Mo asked hesitantly, knowing this was a sensitive topic.

Lu Shimming nodded, a bitter smile gracing his lips. "Yes, I am."

His cultivation journey had begun at the tender age of four. He mastered different weapons and basic techniques that didn't require Qi. These feats had left his Master and the sect elders awestruck, heralding him as a prodigy. But their joy was short-lived. At eight, when he began Qi cultivation, he hit a wall.

It only took him a month to reach the peak of the mortal body state. However, as the first wisp of Qi entered his dantian, his body convulsed in excruciating pain. The memory of that day remained hazy, but it was the day he lost his sight and his prodigy status.

He could still remember the look of worry in his Master’s eyes while those of the rest with disappointment and mockery filled in them as the world around him slowly turned dark forever. After all, what people enjoyed more than the rise of a genius was the failure of one.

Knowing his presence could tarnish his Master's reputation, Lu Shimming chose exile. At first, he feared becoming stagnant, but then the dreamland appeared, offering him a glimmer of hope.

"Here, take this," Xue Mo said, handing him a pouch.

A familiar scent of medicinal herbs wafted up as Lu Shimming opened the pouch slightly.

"Qi Refining Pills?" he recognized the potent contents.

Gratitude welled up within him. His Master and Senior Brother showered him with resources even when they must have known it felt like a bottomless pit.

"It's alright," Xue Mo said, patting his shoulder. "Use them however you see fit. Remember, I'll take you back by the yearly competition."

With that final reminder, Xue Mo vanished like a wisp of smoke, leaving no trace behind.

...

Servant Quarters, Southeast Gate

Lu Shimming returned to his humble cottage, securing the door before walking to a corner and prying up a floor tile. This was his secret hiding place. Beneath the tile lay a small, well-concealed box. It wasn't large, but big enough to hold his most prized possessions.

He placed the pouch of pills alongside dozens of others, a testament to years of collecting. The sheer quantity would leave anyone from the servant quarters speechless. These pills, properly distributed, could elevate anyone with a modicum of talent to outer sect disciple within a short time.

But Lu Shimming held onto his secret identity. Using these pills would be akin to a beacon, drawing unwanted attention.

"Time for rest," he muttered, the day's chores complete. He yearned to return to the dreamland, to finally reach that hundredth step.

As he drifted off to sleep, a single thought echoed in his mind: perhaps the dreamland held the key to unlocking his cultivation and reclaiming his place as a prodigy.