Despite the fear in the cultivators' eyes, I was almost at my limit. My willpower was strained, and the hole through my torso had shattered a lot of my structural integrity. Blood control barely able to keep me intact and upright, but I forced myself not to waver.

  “He thtill liffs,” I said with an even tone as I pointed at Ren Feilong. “Thake him and goff.”

  They didn’t move, and I realized my teeth were still fangs. With an effort, I pulled them back to normal.

  “Take him back to your sect,” I said as I kicked their young master towards them. “Now!”

  They hurried to grab him, and the short one lifted him onto his shoulders like a sack of grain. They still said nothing, their faces paler than the full moon in autumn.

  “Hey,” I said.

  They flinched, but stopped and stared at me.

  “Don’t come after me again, or I won’t stop at the face.”

  It wasn’t an empty threat — it took all of my willpower not to keep eating him.

  But even if he was an asshole, I didn’t want to eat humans.

  Even if they were delicious…

  The two cultivators bowed and hurried away, sprinting like horses toward the Shining Mountain Sect. Seeing powerful people -- the same kind who were lording over mortals an hour ago -- fleeing before me left a strange sensation. Pride? Irony? I wasn’t sure, but I pondered it as the dust settled.

  The villagers stared at me in absolute silence until I heard someone throw up. That moment of disgust broke the dam. A child started crying. As I opened my mouth to speak, the onlookers backed away. Market stalls were forgotten as the villagers all bolted for their houses.

  I sighed.

  Probably not a good idea for me to hang around here.

  I walked over to a stall and found some cheap robes that were for sale, and threw a set over my shoulder.

  “I’ll repay you for this later!” I shouted to the empty village.

  “It’s fine!” someone shouted in response. “Please don’t come back!”

  I shrugged as a plan formed.

  First, I would get away from the village, find a secluded spot on the river, and bathe. Then, I would return to that restaurant and apologize to the waitress. I shouldn’t have walked in naked, I could see that now, and she deserved some respect.

  After that, I would beg the inn for some kind of work so I could eat a meal. Hopefully, they would have a position open so I could save enough money to pay back these robes.

  I might have been a thief in one of my lives, but my other two followed the law, and any kleptomaniac inclinations were firmly outvoted.

  After I settled those debts, I would find a map, determine which of my past lives had the closest location, and head there to see what became of the people and places I knew.

  With my mind set, I started down the road leading out of the village, but a gruff voice stopped me.

  “Not bad, for a lucky son of a bitch.”

  I glanced down at Cabbagy.

  “I sent them packing.”

  “Sure, but those were reckless youths. They’ll send someone stronger. An older disciple, a master — who can say? But you won’t be ready.”

  “I suppose you think you can teach me.”

  Cabbagy rocked slightly in the wind.

  “The amount you know, sonny, a damned lettuce could teach you more!”

  I grinned.

  “Alright,” I said. “You’re on.”

  I picked up the cabbage, my bloody hand leaving a smear on the firm, green leaves, and with him tucked under my arm, I headed out of the village and towards the first steps of my plan.

  “Oh, kid?”

  “What is it, Cabbagy?”

  “It’s called face slapping, not face eating. You might want to consider some restraint in the future.”

  “Oh, you think?” I said with panic. “Did I go too far?”

  “Nah, you’re fine. Just don't go eating every asshole you meet, or folks might get the wrong idea.”

  ###

  The walk back down the road towards the restaurant would have been peaceful if it weren’t for the growing sensation of a fire burning in my stomach. I hunched over as I walked, my steps staggering and awkward. My willpower was drained, and it was a struggle to keep all my bones together. The pain in my stomach did nothing to help.

  It was actual pain as well, not just an injury.

  “What’s wrong with you, boy?” Cabbagy asked. “You’re walking like my wife after she got back from work at the whorehouse.”

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  I frowned, momentarily distracted from the pain.

  “Your wife is a whore?” I asked.

  “Say that again, and I’ll end your life.”

  The dead seriousness in his voice was enough to make me drop that line of questioning. I didn’t truly know if a cabbage could end my life — especially when it seemed cultivators were incapable of doing so — but I also hadn’t known that cabbages could talk.

  And yet, here we were.

  “Sorry,” I said with a small bow that almost made me tumble to the dirt. “Usually I don’t feel any pain at all from my injuries, but right now it feels like someone poured burning oil down my throat.”

  “You haven’t figured it out then?”

  “No?”

  “I’ll give you a moment,” Cabbagy said. “Even the slowest mule deserves to plough the field.”

  I frowned, trying to figure out what he meant, before remembering that wasn’t the point at all. My stomach burned after the fight with the cultivators…

  “Their qi,” I said. “It did something to me.”

  “It sure did,” said Cabbagy. “Though not how you’re thinking of.”

  “Oh?”

  “That pissant's piss weak punch isn’t what you're feeling now. What you’re experiencing is the qi in the blood and skin that you swallowed while you mauled that young dickhead’s face.”

  I blinked.

  I’d chewed at another human’s face without even thinking about it.

  Huh.

  The riverbank was rocky, with several large boulders exposed by seasons past. I set Cabbagy down on one as I quickly bathed away the dirt and blood.

  “Am I a monster, Cabbagy?” I asked.

  My blood had dried to a brown smear on his leaves, and through this gory paint he met my eye.

  “No,” he said. “You are a survivor.”

  I shook my head.

  “But I’ve eaten people.”

  “Does that feel wrong to you?”

  “No,” I said. “But it feels wrong that it doesn’t feel wrong.”

  “So it would have been right to let those cultivators kill you?”

  “No…”

  “Damn straight! The world isn’t a kind place. It’s survival of the fittest, kill or be killed —”

  “Eat or be eaten?”

  Cabbagy grinned.

  “Exactly, kid, you get it. Welcome to the jungle.”

  I nodded slowly, ignoring the fire in my stomach.

  “Welcome to the jungle…”

  “Now get moving. The more you dawdle, the more likely that repercussions will find you.”

  “Good advice,” I said as I threw on my robes and started shuffling down the road again. “I’d be able to go even faster if my stomach wasn’t burning like this.”

  “Then do something about it.”

  Huh.

  Do something about it.

  More than anything else Cabbagy said, this resonated with me.

  I was more than human now. My body was more than human. If I felt something was wrong, I didn’t have to cope with it and groan like a struggling mortal. No, I could do something about it.

  But… what?

  I focused on my stomach, trying to isolate that rebellious organ. To my surprise, I found that the blood was actually in the long loops of my intestines. It was moving slowly and felt like a foreign object in my body.

  I diverted willpower from holding myself upright, and my broken back sagged down to the ground until it was dragging behind me. Using the newly freed-up willpower, I focused on the blood flowing through my intestine.

  It wasn’t just passing through; it was dissolving. Every time a part of it dissipated into my flesh, it felt like the touch of a flame.

  I was actually digesting a cultivator.

  But that wasn’t what shocked me.

  No, what shocked me was that everywhere the qi touched — the areas I thought burned — actually channelled my willpower better. They were stronger, quicker to respond, and more adaptive.

  The cultivator’s blood was making me stronger!

  A surge of greed followed this realization. I didn’t want to poop or pee out any of that power. I needed it all!

  But how to maximise my absorption?

  I wasn't a doctor by any stretch of the imagination, but if I could pump blood into my muscles to empower them, then maybe I could do the same with my organs?

  Channelling my willpower, I pumped blood into my guts. They shifted in my torso like eels in a basket as I urged them to work harder.

  The sensation of fire in my stomach surged. I collapsed to the ground like a broken puppet, unable to do anything but lie slack as pain overwhelmed me. It took all the willpower I had to keep my focus on dissolving the blood and spreading the dissolving flame throughout my body.

  Heat crept through my muscles and bones, throbbed in my fingers and toes, lit up my scalp and my taint until I wanted to scream.

  “Don’t you let out a sound,” Cabbagy said. “You chose this for yourself, so no complaining.”

  He was right. I needed to act like a man. So I gritted my teeth and struggled through the pain. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but suddenly, it vanished.

  With a relieved sigh, I picked myself up from the ground, dusted off my clothes, and started jogging toward the restaurant.

  I felt better than ever. It reminded me of the sensations that came after the Cleansing Flame Formation destroyed my body. My flesh had been destroyed, but grown back.

  Only this time it grew back stronger!

  My gait became a fair gallop as I pushed myself, laughing at my newfound strength and stamina.

  I quickly found myself at the restaurant, and I slowed down to a more polite pace. A glance up at the second story showed that they were serving lunch now, and so I made my way inside.

  I felt a little crick in the back of my neck as I passed through the doorway. My spine had healed! Truly an auspicious sign, and so I headed upstairs to the restaurant to make amends and hopefully get some lunch.

  Scraps of a cultivator’s face might be many things, but they weren’t a satisfactory meal. In fact, ever since the qi flames went through me, I don’t think I’ve ever felt hungrier.

  ###

  Special Inspector Deng cursed his laziness as he sipped his twelfth cup of tea and picked at another small bowl of white rice. The smoked eel had been delicious, and he dipped his rice in the leftover sauce. Would it be stretching propriety to ask for another serving? Surely not, though he should really be getting on the road.

  If he stayed any longer, he might as well ask for accommodation for the night…

  His self-indulgent train of thought ended as a young man walked into the restaurant.

  He was dressed like any other peasant, in brown robes that had been dragged through the dirt at some point. Barefoot, and wearing an eager expression as he looked around the room.

  A forgettable enough face, and Deng almost marked him as uninteresting when he froze.

  It was him.

  Deng almost couldn't recognise the man with clothes on, even though it had only been a few hours. This was largely because Deng had mentally buried the young man in an unmarked grave. What other outcome could there be after pissing off an arrogant young master?

  Deng never thought he’d see him alive.

  Yet, here he was.

  Not only alive, but completely intact and untroubled.

  Could… could it be? Did Deng dare to hope?

  Deng cleared his throat, and the entire restaurant paused. It was an unfortunate consequence of being a cultivator in imperial employ, but one he had long made peace with.

  “If you’re looking for a table,” he said to the hidden master standing in the doorway. “Then please, come and join me.”