Chapter 43: Do Not Pity Me for Being a Delicate Flower [New Book Requesting Support]

In fact, ever since he first exhausted his stamina in this game—almost fainting but not quite—Tang Shen had discovered this bug and resolved in his mind that he must adapt to this state. After all, if he were to fight someone in the future, and the moment his stamina ran out he simply passed out, what would be the point of playing? He would be at the mercy of his opponent, a glaring weakness that had to be overcome.

Moreover, whether or not one faints hinges on the strength of one’s willpower. Just like in real life, even when your stats are zero and your stamina depleted, as long as your will is firm and unyielding, you can remain conscious and even keep moving. All it takes is to grow accustomed to it, control it, and ultimately rise above it.

Besides, Tang Shen had noticed one benefit of this extreme state: during these moments, it was much easier to break through one’s limits in training within the game. Surpassing these limits resulted in gradual growth in the player’s physique, strength, and mental faculties. Of course, this had little to do with the game’s mental stat; reaching one’s limits was still a matter of personal willpower. Without sufficient will, it was easy to faint. This was the same as overexertion.

Methodically, Tang Shen finished massaging both of Kuina’s legs and feet, and then flopped onto his back, feeling too exhausted to move. He was so tired he didn’t even want to lift an arm; fatigue radiated from every part of his body.

Kuina, her face flushed, slowly crawled up from the ground. Though she was still weak, she could now move; a warm current seemed to surge from her feet up through her legs. A lively gleam danced in her eyes as if she were pondering something. After a moment’s hesitation, she bit her lip, reached out, and placed her hands at the top of Tang Shen’s thigh.

Tang Shen jolted in surprise, lifting his head sharply. “What are you doing?”

“I…” Kuina’s cheeks turned crimson, caught off guard.

With a straight face, Tang Shen said, “We are master and disciple. This sort of thing doesn’t look good, you understand? You’re still too young, it puts me in a difficult position.”

Kuina stared at him in confusion. Did massages require consent? Wasn’t he the one who just gave her a massage?

Not far away, Koushirou watched the scene intently. When he saw Kuina reach for Tang Shen, he was instantly dumbfounded. What on earth? His mind was blown. Since when was his daughter so forward?

Wait a minute—she’s too young, this is unacceptable! Things like this should wait until she’s older! For a moment, he was beside himself, nearly rushing over, but hearing Tang Shen’s words, he calmed down.

Thank goodness, this young man knows his limits. He understands that Kuina is too young and even offered her advice. Koushirou’s impression of Tang Shen improved considerably.

At the very least, he genuinely cared about his daughter and maintained his composure at all times. Not bad, not bad.

Just then, Tang Shen continued, “Although I don’t really mind, you should at least ask for my permission first. Alright, I agree. Go ahead—hands only, and don’t go easy on me just because I’m a delicate flower.”

Kuina was speechless.

Koushirou was speechless.

Damn it! Delicate flower, my foot! I’m about to flip the table! How shameless can you be? A grown man letting an eleven-year-old girl touch him and saying such indecent things? I really misjudged you! Do you believe I won’t draw my sword and cut you down right now? I’ll chop you into pieces—mincemeat!

Kuina, exasperated, said, “Master, I just wanted to help you relax your legs like you did for me. Do I really need your permission for that?”

“Huh?!” Tang Shen’s face flushed red. So it was just a massage—his mind had wandered off in the wrong direction. Guilty, he glanced at Kuina. Of course, with her skinny little body, he wasn’t some kind of creep. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “Ahem, well then, go ahead! That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll guide you—make sure you find the right pressure points. The technique is actually quite tricky.”

“Yes, Master.” Kuina couldn’t shake the feeling there was another meaning behind Tang Shen’s earlier words.

Kuina began massaging Tang Shen’s legs with her small hands, following his instructions to find the precise locations.

“Mm—wonderful!”

“Ah—so good!”

“Oh—Kuina, a bit more pressure!”

“Excellent, excellent! Kuina, you have quite the talent.”

“Master, could you please stop making those weird noises? It feels strange.”

“You were making noises too, calling out ‘Master’—I saw your face was all red. You make your master... Ah—oh—gently, gently! Are you trying to murder your teacher?”

“Master, please stop making those strange sounds.”

...

In the end, Koushirou didn’t rush over. He was afraid of seeing disappointment or loathing in his daughter’s eyes. Still, the scene before him made his eyes bloodshot, his teeth grinding audibly, and his fists clenched tight.

It wasn’t anger—it was jealousy.

Kuina had never been this close to him, her own father! Let alone give him a massage. Just thinking about his beloved daughter serving another man—and being more affectionate to him than to her own father—he was furious! What a failure of a father he was, unable to even instill a proper worldview in his daughter, her life goals taught to her by someone else, and he’d even undermined her confidence several times.

He felt even more unworthy.

Ah! What a failure of a father he was.

“So infuriating! I really want to cut that kid down. I just know he’s up to something with Kuina. Such a headache,” Koushirou thought bitterly to himself.

No, it wasn’t because Kuina had voluntarily massaged Tang Shen that he was angry. Nor was it because he’d never felt such closeness from his own daughter. It wasn’t jealousy at all.

...

Since learning that Tang Shen and Kuina got up early to train, Zoro had also started rising early, though he often overslept from training late into the night. Today, before the other students arrived, he was already there, starting his morning exercises.

But as he passed by Koushirou, he suddenly froze. At this early hour, he never saw a third person—normally, Koushirou would have already returned to the dojo. This time, due to some delay, Koushirou was still around—and visibly seething.

Just then, a flash of green darted past Zoro without even pausing. His face darkened further. He was used to Zoro’s rudeness, never greeting him, but today, with his daughter distant and his disciple not even saying hello, running straight past him, he was especially irked.

“Zoro, twenty laps for morning training. No breakfast if you don't finish. Five thousand sword swings this morning—no lunch if you don't complete them,” Koushirou ordered darkly, turning and heading back to the dojo.

“Huh?!” Zoro stared after him, but all he saw was his teacher’s retreating back.