Level Nine

“Cultivators are nothing!”
“No matter how powerful your abilities, no matter how invincible your magic, I’ll smash my fist into your face, make it blossom like peach flowers, and then ask you—does it hurt?”
Of course, for now, this is only my vision—
Vision, no, call it my ideal.
“I’m not ready yet to take on those great cultivators. I’m still a bit short.”
“But I’m someone with dreams!”
“What’s wrong with being a martial artist? Is ‘martial artist’ a title just anyone can claim? Gentlemen, scholars, sages, husbands—aren’t they all impressive?”
Strike out ‘husband’, that one’s not really impressive after all.
A scholar might be formidable at the academy, revered by all, but back home as a husband, he still gets scolded by his wife. She’s beautiful, but fierce!
“I just want to ask, why does everyone look down on martial artists?”
“Those weaklings at the neighboring Cultivation Academy, I deal with them daily. They need to chant spells and make hand seals just to release a bit of magic—takes them ages, can’t even manage a fart, simply no match for me!”
“Except for Qian Qianxue.”
“She’s not only beautiful, she’s formidable! Someday I’ll marry a woman like her—ideally her, since we know each other.”
“The scholar at the academy is great; he never looked down on me. When I used to squat beneath their windows listening to lectures, he kindly invited me inside. I said I couldn’t pay, he said it was free!”
“Though I disagree with something he once said: that martial artists can become heroes, and that the great