Chapter 90 (1/2)
Time flies by when one is having fun. The saying was true for Grandpa Vremya and Azalea. In the blink of an eye, two hundred and fifty years passed by in an instant, and Grandpa Vremya was lying on his deathbed. To be more accurate, he was sitting on a cushion with the last of his vitality draining out of him. Azalea was standing beside him with a grim expression on her face. The next three minutes determined whether he’d live for another five hundred years or die of old age. Although Grandpa Vremya always radiated an air of extreme confidence bordering on arrogance, Azalea was still worried about his chances.
Sixty years ago, Azalea surpassed her bottleneck, becoming a nascent-soul cultivator. In the process, she had failed three times, and during one of the times, she had almost lost her life. If it weren’t for Grandpa Vremya, she wouldn’t be alive right now. He had obtained a legendary fruit for her; not only did it bring her back from the brink of death, but it also reformed her meridians, helping her succeed in her next attempt at breaking through. To get a legendary fruit capable of helping someone reach the nascent-soul stage, usually, one had to struggle arduously for many years before chancing upon it. However, Grandpa Vremya was different. He valiantly went to the nearest fancy auction house, which happened to be owned by the Heavenly Golden River merchant group, and bought the fruit, flexing his tremendous financial muscles.
Azalea had tried to convince Grandpa Vremya to use external aids to form his nascent soul. Since he could afford to buy her a fruit, it made sense that he could buy himself some as well. Even if it wasn’t a legendary fruit, he could’ve bought medicinal pills or spiritual steroids to help himself; however, he had rejected the suggestion, claiming he didn’t want to ingest any impurities. Azalea bit her lower lip. Other than him not using external aids, Azalea was also worried because she didn’t know whether or not Grandpa Vremya was serious about his method of nurturing his nascent soul. No matter how many books she read in the library, none of them included anything about watching rivers to form a nascent soul.
The seconds ticked by like hours, and Grandpa Vremya’s vitality dropped even lower, nearly disappearing altogether. Then, it expanded. His vitality blossomed, and his body, which had become saggy again over the years, regained its vigor. Once again, he looked like a fifty-year-old man with gray hair. His eyes shot open, and he glanced at Azalea. His eyes were deep, and looking at them made her soul feel as if it was being sucked out of her body. “I told you I’d succeed,” Grandpa Vremya said and climbed to his feet. The process of forming a nascent soul was simple. The golden core acted like a chicken egg. Nourishing the golden core with spiritual energy caused the embryo inside the egg to grow and form a fetus. The fetus was able to experience the world through the cultivator’s senses. If the world seemed like it was a place the fetus would like to be born, then the chances of a nascent soul breaking out of the golden core was increased. With the idyllic worldview Grandpa Vremya had painted for his nascent soul, there was practically zero chance of failing. Despite him explaining this to Azalea, she still chose to worry over nothing.
“Congratulations,” Azalea said, her shoulder slumping down. All the anxiety weighing her down had vanished. “Now that you’ve formed your nascent soul, I suppose there’ll be less journeying outside of the sect?”
Grandpa Vremya shook his head. “To successfully reach the soul-seed stage, the nascent soul needs even more experience. The soul seed is a condensation of a nascent soul’s understandings and values. The easiest way to reach immortality is to use your experiences to influence your nascent soul’s personality into one of unyielding perseverance and discipline.”
Azalea tilted her head. “Unyielding perseverance and discipline sound like something you gain by sitting inside your abode and cultivating all day like you used to do before forming a golden core.”
“Right,” Grandpa Vremya said. “They are. The harder way to reach immortality is by facing countless challenges and conquering them all, never losing once. In fact, it’s the only true way to the peak of cultivation. Your nascent soul must be so domineering that even the heavens have to kneel before it.”
“You? Conquering and dominating?” Azalea asked, her eyes widening. Did Grandpa Vremya’s soul get replaced during his breakthrough? “Do you mean through wealth?”
“No,” Grandpa Vremya said. “Through combat.”
Azalea scratched her head. If Grandpa Vremya’s words were true, then didn’t that mean he’d need opponents equal to him? “But who are you going to fight? The Sun Cactus Sect and the Ten Faces Sect were vassalized so long ago. No new powers have stepped in to fill their place either.” An odd expression appeared on her face. “Are you going to challenge the elders of our sect?”