Chapter 87 (1/2)
“This will really help you develop your nascent soul?” Azalea asked. She nudged the narrow canyon with her oar, pushing the boat away from the rocky wall. The activity Grandpa Vremya had taken her on might’ve been dangerous for mortals, but there was no one it could be counted as a life-and-death experience for a cultivator. “Aren’t the experiences you require more … dangerous?”
Grandpa Vremya grunted. He was actively thrusting his oar into the water, stroking and rowing with an orderly rhythm. “Dangerous? Cultivating a nascent soul is like raising a child.” He turned his head to stare at Azalea. “Would you put your child in a dangerous situation?”
Azalea rolled her eyes. “That’s just a saying,” she said. “According to the Moon Lotus Cultivation Technique, to form a nascent soul, you have to walk the line between life and death. Most core disciples go to the demonic battleground for this reason.”
“I’m not cultivating the Moon Lotus Cultivation Technique,” Grandpa Vremya said. He turned his attention back onto the river, thrusting at it with his oar. “It doesn’t apply to me. To properly nurture a nascent soul, you have to experience life freely. One’s personality matters greatly too. If someone is timid and scared of conflict, if they try to gather life experience in the demonic battleground, their nascent soul will be traumatized rather than enriched. Perhaps life-and-death battles are the best way for disciples of the Moon Lotus Sect to grow their nascent souls because they’ve already severed their fear.”
“So…, what you’re saying is you’re timid and scared of conflict?”
Grandpa Vremya snorted and flicked his oar, splashing water all over Azalea. “It was just an example. My personality is carefree and unrestrained. The best way for me to nurture my nascent soul is to do whatever I want whenever I want.”
Azalea glared at Grandpa Vremya, using her spiritual energy to evaporate the water stuck in her clothes. “I’ve known you for over two hundred years,” she said. “How come I wasn’t aware you were carefree and unrestrained?”
“Aren’t I?” Grandpa Vremya asked. He nudged the boat away from the rocky banks before placing his oar down across his lap. They were out of the canyon, and the rest of the way was going to be smooth. He turned around to face Azalea, shifting his feet over the seats. “If you don’t think those adjectives don’t fit me, then what does?”
“Arrogant, introverted, and disciplined,” Azalea said. She wanted to call him lazy too; all of his responsibilities were thrown onto her, but at the same time, could someone who focused on a breakthrough for over a hundred years without eating or sleeping be called lazy?
Grandpa Vremya stroked his beard. “Arrogance is unwarranted confidence,” he said. “I don’t think that can describe me. I will be the greatest person in this entire dimension, and my attitude properly reflects my knowledge of this. This is confidence.”
Azalea stared at Grandpa Vremya without saying anything.
“What?”
“I’m just wondering if I can see your head expand in real time,” Azalea said. She looked around. The river was flowing through a meadow, and there wasn’t any trace of civilization. However, there was a group of large, carnivorous beasts lapping up water at the riverbank up ahead. “After this trip, what else are we going to do?”
The boat flowed past the carnivorous beasts. One of them got up, but with one look from Azalea, it crawled back down onto its belly and let out a mewl. Grandpa Vremya leaned back and looked up at the sky. He wasn’t lying to Azalea when he said his nascent soul would grow the most when he did whatever his heart desired. “What’s the highest mountain peak?”
“Mount Tsereve. It’s not too far from the sect.” Azalea tilted her head. “Why? Do you want to climb it?”
“Can you see any rivers from the top?” Grandpa Vremya asked.
“Uh….” Azalea scratched her head before pulling out a map. She traced her fingers along it. “There’s only one river in sight from the peak.” She put the map away and furrowed her brow. “Do you just want to admire rivers or something?”