Daily life of a cultivation judge-Chapter 1031: Nurtured perfectly for the role

As Yang Qing walked over to his table, moving with the energy of a corpse freshly dug from the ground, he paused, his gaze falling on the newcomer lounging on one of the seats on the porch.

"Zheng Hu? When did you get here?" Yang Qing asked, his tone lethargic as he addressed his red-haired inquisitor.

"A few seconds ago," Zheng Hu replied cheerily.

"What happened to you?" Zheng Hu asked, noting the dispirited look on Yang Qing's face as he sat down.

"Life, Zheng Hu, just life..." Yang Qing muttered with a listless expression as he pulled out a wine jar.

"Life has once again shown me that I am but its humble student... No, not even that. At this point, with all that it has thrown at me, I might as well be its overworked cleaner, buried neck-deep in life's dung," he added, uncorking the wine.

Yang Qing paused slightly after uncorking it, as if debating whether to drink it straight from the jar. Ultimately, he decided against it, and the guiding reason for that choice? Zheng Hu.

"Let me pour," Zheng Hu said, taking the wine jar from Yang Qing's hands and pouring it into one of the scattered wine cups.

"You're not having any?" Yang Qing asked, curious when he noticed Zheng Hu wasn't pouring himself a cup.

"Not tonight," Zheng Hu said casually as he settled into a seat at the table.

"So, what happened?" he asked, his eyes drifting over to the messy aftermath Yang Qing and the celestial nesting weaver had left behind during their prior clash.

Yang Qing was well on his way to answering the question when something put a halt to that plan.

"You're already at the peak?!" Yang Qing exclaimed, a flicker of excitement reviving his spirits as he adjusted his posture to examine Zheng Hu, who now exuded the aura of someone at the peak of the Core Formation stage.

It wasn't the fact that Zheng Hu had reached the peak stage that surprised Yang Qing—he had expected it, despite seeing him at the 10th stage just two months ago. What truly surprised him was the depth and quality of Zheng Hu's cultivation. His aura was entirely unassuming, simple, and grounded, a hallmark of someone on the cusp of the Grand Dao.

The path to the Grand Dao was often described as a return to one's true self, a shedding of all pretenses to reveal the essence within. The deeper a cultivator ventured into the Dao, the more their presence became one with the world—unassuming and pure. The more simplistic and grounded their nature became, to the point where one could be hard-pressed to differentiate such a figure from a mere pebble by the lakeside.

Only when interacting with the Dao itself would a cultivator start gaining that quality, where their aura became malleable, able to be concealed or revealed at will. In a dormant state, they seemed to be clothed in the governing principles of the world.

Zheng Hu hadn't just broken through to the peak of the core formation stage; with how dense his cultivation was, he could already be considered a quasi-palace realm expert—one who was just inches away from the palace realm.

"Congratulations, Zheng Hu," Yang Qing said, a heartfelt smile coloring his face as he raised his wine cup to the inquisitor.

"Thank you, boss," Zheng Hu said, a ginger smile crossing his face as he rubbed his nose. It was one of the rare moments the inquisitor looked embarrassed.

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A knowing smile crept up Yang Qing's face as he shook his head.

"Just give me a second to finish," he said, having already deduced Zheng Hu's true purpose in coming here.

"No rush. I'll use the time to get ready," Zheng Hu said, his tone filled with barely contained excitement. His face, too, betrayed the childlike eagerness bubbling within him.

He stood up, nodded gratefully to Yang Qing, and headed towards one of the cleared wide spaces to the left of the courtyard.

Yang Qing couldn't help but smile and shake his head as he noticed Zheng Hu's fervent expression and his trembling hands.

"He hasn't changed much," Yang Qing mused, a nostalgic smile forming as he cast a look at Zheng Hu's retreating figure. For a brief moment, the silhouette of a twelve-year-old Zheng Hu seemed to overlap with the present one.

In his team, if there was one person truly built for the role of an inquisitor, it was Zheng Hu. Among them all, his nature and character aligned most with the demands of the job. Yi Jie and Feng Xin were inquisitors mainly to support their respective hobbies—one a passionate winemaker, the other a devout glutton.

Luo Meili's reason was more practical. The extreme pressure of the job helped her acclimate to her unique physique, which constantly placed her body under immense strain. Yang Qing's presence also provided her relief, as his natural physique had a calming effect on her condition. Being around him eased the pain her body constantly endured.

Yang Qing had often wondered if Luo Meili would follow him if he ever left his role as a judge. He suspected she would.

As for Su Jinjing, her path as an inquisitor was driven by her spear. Becoming one was one of the quickest ways to earn merit points, which she had been in desperate need of inorder to increase the potential of her spear.

But now that she'd succeeded, would she remain in the role?

Yang Qing didn't need to search for an answer; In truth, he already knew. Su Jinjing was loyal to the core and never forgot her debts. She would continue being an inquisitor if only to repay what she felt she owed to him and the others, even if they never expected anything in return.

With her gentle nature and sharp intuition, honed by her powerful soul, Yang Qing often felt Su Jinjing would make a better instructor than an inquisitor.

Zheng Hu, however, was different. His past had shaped him in such a way that his nature aligned perfectly with that of an inquisitor. He was astute and highly observant, and while he lacked Su Jinjing's powerful soul, his perception was just as sharp. He understood the darkness lurking in human hearts and could recognize its various forms.

More than that, he thrived in violence and chaos, said hearts created, while his' remained pure in it.

Life had nurtured him perfectly for the role.