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Surprisingly Enough(NOT), Common Sense Is Overpowered in a Cliché Cultivation World
🕑 Added 2025-10-31 12:25:17 +0000 UTC1.24 What do you mean I am the inner demon?
"Ah, you again?"
The elder behind the counter squinted over the rim of his teacup, half-lidded eyes as foggy as the steam rising from it. A faint, unmistakable scent of wine drifted through the air, the kind of "special tea" that required a double wink when ordering in an office.
If Ning had to be honest, the man played his role as a lazy but important elder a little too well.
Ning smiled politely. "Elder, I came to exchange a martial art."
He presented two manuals: one on the Bone Refining Fist Technique, the other on Shadow Steps. Though the elder had said he remembered the Bone Refining Fist, Ning still brought it along; better safe than sorry.
The old man flipped through the first. "We already have this one," he said dismissively, setting it aside. Then, with one hand still clutching his teacup, he lazily opened the Shadow Steps manual. His eyes skimmed the pages, slow at first, then narrowed in faint surprise as the wine haze seemed to lift.
"Huh. Structure’s clean. Flow’s steady. Footwork’s got rhythm," he muttered, leaning forward slightly. "Not one of those scam manuals with more flash than substance. It’s a good mortal-rank technique."
"Elder has a sharp eye," Ning said.
The old man side-eyed him. "Flattery burns as fast as cheap wine, boy. Don’t waste your breath."
He closed the manual and set it aside. "Still, not bad. The Pavilion doesn’t have this one. You can exchange it."
Ning cupped his fists. "Then I’d like to trade it for the Turtle Breathing Art."
The elder’s brow arched. "That one? Hiding breath, faking death... cautious choice for someone your age. Hmph! Better than those pretentious martial arts, at least."
The elder was clearly fed up with the disciples' ‘stupid’ choices. After decades of insight, watching youngsters waste their potential on flashy, useless techniques was maddening.
It reminded Ning of the professors back on Earth, those weary old scholars forced to watch bright-eyed freshmen make the same predictable mistakes year after year. You could warn them, lecture them, even hand them the answers, but in the end, everyone still had to stumble to learn.
Ning just smiled and said, "This technique seems quite useful for survival."
That earned a genuine chuckle. "Heh. Sensible brat. Cowards fill graveyards slower than heroes. Fine, register it at the counter. One-week borrowing limit."
Ning hesitated, then asked, "Elder, where can I find the book on inner demons? I searched for it yesterday but couldn’t locate it."
"Inner demons?" The elder sighed, a long, weary exhale tinged with alcohol. "Should be one down on the first floor... though good luck finding anything down there."
He wasn’t exaggerating.
The first floor of the Scripture Pavilion was a battlefield where books were the casualties. Scrolls lay sprawled across the floor like fallen soldiers, tomes jammed sideways into shelves, and half-open manuals dangled from ledges as if trying to flee. The handymen, terrified of ‘misplacing’ something sacred, simply swept around the chaos.
Ning’s gaze sharpened slightly.
This was the moment he’d been waiting for.
"Elder," he said slowly, "if I may... I think I could help with that."
The old man blinked lazily. "Help? With what?"
"The mess on the first floor. I could organize it, make it easier for disciples to find things."
The elder leaned back, his chair creaking dangerously as it balanced on two legs. "You? Organize that chaos?" He snorted. "You must be new."
Ning smiled modestly. "Elder, I studied in a... very large library before joining the sect. I know a few methods that might help."
"Hmm?"
Ning’s grin widened. "First, classify the books by type: martial arts, spells, cultivation methods, and miscellaneous. Within each, sort them by rank, mortal, spirit, and so on. Then create a borrowing record: who took what and when. Wooden tags could replace those loose slips that vanish faster than spirit stones."
The elder’s fingers began rubbing together, a telltale sign of interest.
Ning pressed on. "Once it’s organized, even the handymen will know where everything belongs. Cleaning will be easier, and disciples won’t waste hours searching for a single scroll. Here, I’ve prepared a draft of the plan."
He handed a parchment to the elder.
The elder took it, scanning the neat handwriting and small sketches detailing shelf arrangements, tag systems, and sorting methods.
Everything Ning spoke of was laid out in an orderly manner.
“Hmm... you actually thought this through,” the elder muttered. “Wooden tags instead of paper slips... columns for check-outs and returns... You even made a rotation schedule for cleaning duty? Hah! Seems you’ve put real thought into this.”
With such detail, the boy suddenly seemed much more convincing.
The elder closed his eyes in thought.
The Scripture Pavilion had fallen under his care only in recent years. Previously, it had been managed by a diligent deacon until a theft incident got him dismissed.
Being naturally laid-back, Elder Shen had little interest in administrative work. He protected the Pavilion well enough, but the management? That was another matter entirely. Hence, the current mess.
'The Sect Leader did mention reorganizing the Pavilion, ' he recalled, rubbing his temple. 'And this boy’s proposal... isn’t half bad.'
“Were you planning this from the start?” he asked, one brow raised.
Ning just bowed and answered. “I simply wanted to contribute to the sect.”
"You’re a slippery disciple," the elder said, laughing.
Truth be told, Ning had been planning this for a while.
Outer Sect disciples were only allowed two hours in the Pavilion, a pitiful limit, especially with how chaotic it was. But if he could help manage it, even in the peripheral rank, he’d gain long-term access to its treasures under the guise of ‘maintenance.’
Better yet, if it could be made an official mission, it would count toward his quota.
And most importantly, it was a chance to build connections.
After a year in the sect, Ning had learned a hard truth: talent might open doors, but networking kept them open. Cultivation wasn’t just about strength; it was about who stood behind you when strength failed.
And this elder, Elder Shen, was no ordinary drunk. A Foundation Establishment cultivator known for his free and easy temperament and for occasionally teaching promising juniors. Rumor had it he was related to one of the higher elders, exactly the kind of backer Ning needed.
He’d done his research. The man was foul-mouthed, occasionally lazy, but fair and good-natured at heart.
He wasn’t the protagonist. Backers wouldn't fall from the sky for him.
He needs to make the effort to gain them.
Of course, Ning wouldn’t be too deliberate about it. If he gained the elder’s favor, all the better. If not, then it was simply fate.
His primary goal was to read and learn more about the world, to broaden his understanding and steady his mind. The inner demon episode had given him a lot to think about.
The elder studied him for a long moment, eyes half-lidded but sharp beneath the haze. Finally, he grunted and set down his cup.
"Interesting ideas, brat. I don’t know if they’ll work, but..." He leaned back, swirling what was definitely not tea. "Fine. You get three months. If the first floor looks halfway decent by then, I’ll consider it a success."
Ning’s face brightened. "Thank you, Elder. Also, I’ll need to stay in the Pavilion for a few hours each day. Could you make it a mission?"
Ning was straightforward about it.
Elder Shen raised a brow, studying him. “A mission, eh?” He tapped the rim of his cup thoughtfully. “You’re not shy about squeezing every last drop of benefit, are you, brat? Well, I guess it will increase your efficiency. Also, I’ll assign some servants to help you."
"Thank you, Elder."
...
For the next few days, Ning busied himself with organizing the first floor of the Scripture Pavilion.
To be honest, the task wasn’t as difficult as one might think. Most of the heavy lifting was done by the servants; Ning’s role was mainly to supervise and ensure everything went according to plan.
The servants, terrified of offending cultivators, were diligent, honest, and, most importantly, careful. Ning had already given them a pep talk, and they followed his instructions almost religiously.
Each day, he first tended to the fields, then came here to relax, or rather, to read.
Today, he finally found the book on inner demons.
It described inner demons as otherworldly entities that preyed upon the negative emotions of cultivators.
They had no physical form and appeared only during major breakthroughs, the breaking of oaths, or moments of deep despair.
Inner demons could kill a cultivator by inducing qi deviation, and in extreme cases, even occupy their bodies for a time, devouring memories before returning beyond the mortal plane.
There were numerous case studies recorded, each more disturbing than the last.
Ning read through them carefully, deepening his understanding. He discovered that inner demons were actually a necessary trial for cultivators advancing to the Golden Core stage and beyond. It was presumably due to the increase in sensitivity of the soul during those moments.
Moreover, unlike the minor inner demon he had faced, these were far more terrifying, progressing from subtle self-doubt to full-blown mental illusions that shattered a cultivator’s heart and mind.
The text also explained the demons’ methods of attack: they first unearthed a person’s personal doubts and insecurities by probing their memories, and then triggered a heart tribulation born from within the cultivator’s own soul.
Several means of protection were listed, rare artifacts such as the Bodhi Enlightenment Pearl, Clear Heart Lotus, and other tools Ning had never even heard of.
Toward the end, perhaps sensing the growing dread in readers, the author included stories of victory, cultivators who had defeated their inner demons in various ways. Some overcame them by cutting them down directly; others nurtured the demon within themselves until enlightenment purified it, transforming weakness into wisdom.
By the time Ning closed the book, he had a much clearer understanding of inner demons. Next time, he would be ready.
Then, a sudden thought struck him.
An otherworldly being? That described him perfectly.
Caused qi deviation? “Ji Ning” had indeed suffered from that.
Devoured memories? He did possess the memories of Ji Ning.
Ning froze.
“...F*ck. Am I the inner demon?”
...
Thanks for reading~
Comments
Arabiannights
Kek
MaliMi
That's actually a really good reason for an isekai.
