I look at the bowing man in front of me, flabbergasted. Did I ask if there was poison?
"No, no you misunderstood. I mean.."
I pause and reflect. Do they understand the concept of what food does? Isn't the purpose of food to sustain a person?
I continue, "What is the purpose of eating food?"
It's such a small matter that I'm getting so serious over, but if food serves no purpose in this world, then…
The skinny man's white apron silently flutters as a light breeze runs through the kitchen. He laughs awkwardly for a moment then, realizing I'm serious, pauses
"As a cultivator, I know you don't really need to eat food, but people like me need food to survive. It gives us the necessary nutrients to continue living."
The man gets excited talking over the topic and learns a few things while chatting with me. I explain calories and such things to him very seriously, hoping he can be my personal cook.
I previously relied on my mom to help track my calories.
So, yes, the food remains the same in this world along with its importance. Instead it doesn't matter how much you eat, since you can lose any excessive intake easily by cultivating and turning the energy into Qi.
Doesn't sound too bad!
It's a lot better than cardio!
I pace around the wooden flooring in the mansion and step onto some carpet, where their sat a couch. I sit and await the man to finish the food so I can eat.
In the end it was some sort of meat with some really tasty skin. I'm guessing it was chicken since it did taste like it.
I checked some sort of copper looking mechanical clock and saw the time was around 12 pm.
I usually work out around this time, so I go to the room I slept in before doing a pause and then turn.
I walked around the house with my hands behind my back, looking for the servant I first met.
I wanted to get more acquainted with him as it was pretty kind of him to watch over me while I cultivate.
From what I heard, cultivation seclusion can take up to hundreds of years. Usually it isn't that high, but it's still usually very long.
I want to get his help with some things.
First of all, I need a gym. I'm not meditating daily. I couldn't work a 9-5 job in my past life and I surely can't sit around for hours or day on end in this life.
I'll need his help to find a gym.
My death and transmigration didn't do anything to affect my desire to workout at all. It fueled it instead.
What could the peak or ideal bodybuilding physique look like in this world?
Ah, I'm just burning with passion.
After a 10 minute walk, I find the servant ordering around some people who were sweeping brooms.
I tap his shoulder lightly, catch his attention, and greet him kindly.
Surprised by the greeting and smile on my face, he returns a passionate greeting which outshines my own.
His well-kempt black hair and the tail of hair hanging behind matched his kind expression perfectly, making him look like one of the people that would promote peace.
Except that perfectly clashed with the attitude he showed seconds ago.
I hesitantly asked, "Is there any place I can go to work on myself physically?"
He looked confused then enlightened after a second of thought. "Of course. In seclusion, practicing martial arts or under Fu who teaches Blade Storm."
Does everyone misunderstand? I don't want to learn martial arts, I want to exercise. I could also do body weight exercises, but I doubt that'd be very effective.
Seeing that I'm in thought, he waits patiently.
The air that wafted of a strange scent and the hidden energy within everyone that was released occasionally mixed into a fresh scent that smelled like it would revitalize even the most depressed of people.
The great scent, the clean environment, along with the excitement I feel at this very moment…
I came up with an idea that's more roundabout, but is a lot less stressful than explaining fitness to these people. "Is there a way to test my increase in strength after a breakthrough?"
The servant leaves the work to another person as he makes one last order and leads me to another location.
"Of course." He looks at me as if trying to understand a complete stranger. "You could strike this large pillar, the Strength Measurement Pillar. There's a teacher's one over in the teacher's lounge."
He leads me into a room two rooms away from the other with a golden plate hanging above it, writing something out in Chinese.
I have no idea what it says, but it isn't too hard to guess.
Stepping through the door way, the wide, large room laid out anything related to comfort or stress relief. There even was a corner of the room which resembled something like a boxing ring.
Against one side of the room was a large golden colored pillar that was not too unlike a sand pillar, visually.
The servant stepped up and introduced with a strike of his own on how to use the pillar.
Bam!
In the mid section of the large pillar, seemingly illusory blue numbers appeared as they rolled like a slot machine, changing colors as they increased.
Then appeared a red 1738.
"You just wanted to punch it, didn't you?" With the smile he was demonstrating before and how eager he was to demonstrate, it was pretty obvious.
The servant chuckled, "That… Yes, that's correct.
"Why don't you give it a try, young master? I'd like to see your improvement after your short seclusion."
I feel somewhat awkward. My purpose wasn't really to test this sort of strength. I just wanted to see if they had any of the gym equipment I was familiar with.
Also, the sound of his fist ripping through the air was a bit scary. I'd say splitting a boulder is like slicing bread for this guy.
I glance around the room as I say absentmindedly, "Is that all? Is there any other ways to test one's strength?"
The man who hit 1738 on the pillar nods. "Of course."
Now, what he did next was completely out of expectations.
He got into a stance where he was side to side with the pillar. Then as if drawing an arc, swung his leg and kicked the pillar.
He actually kicked the pillar!
I asked him 'Is there another way to test strength' and his response is a kick instead of a punch.
Imagine this guy being a commander in a war. A soldier asks him if there's another way to hold a gun. He'd likely respond with, "Of course" and switch to using his other hand.
No sh*t, Sherlock. Thanks for the help.
With an eyelid twitch, I ignore the number that appears. "I mean.."
With a pause, I realize how hard it would be to speak with this person.
In front of me stood an idiot, showoff, and a pedophile.
I sigh and look up into the idiot's eyes, hoping he could help me with this one thing. "Could you find me a craftsman?"
He stands there with a lost expression, looking vacantly at me.
Thinking he might not understand what a craftsman is, I continue, "A craftsman. Those who are skilled in a particular craft? Like an artisan. Yes, find me an artisan. Someone who makes things by hand."
He reveals the same expression he showed during the walk in that infinite forest, a . "H-how about me?"
Is he a child?
I give him a once over, up and down.
You're at least 20, man. Grow up already! Did you expect a cookie or something?
I give an expression of pity, feeling like I'm an adult that's giving their child a candy for losing a soccer game. "Thank you for helping me with this."
The man child gradually grew a happier expression as he bowed and announced his leave.
I just ordered some gym equipment from amazon.
It's a little too hard to get dumbbells in another world, though....