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“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?”
Grandpa Vremya grunted, not denying nor confirming. “What’s the highest mountain peak with a splendid view?”
“Your definition of a splendid view means comes with lots of rivers, right?” Azalea asked. She took out her map again and scanned it from top to bottom. “Does it have to be a mountain peak? If we fly right over here”—she pointed at a spot on the map—“we should be able to see eight different rivers cutting through the Great Plains.”
“Can we take an airship?” Grandpa Vremya asked. “Wouldn’t it be nice to sit down, admire the view, and paint the scenery? If we fly on a crane, it’ll be less comfortable.”
“Sure,” Azalea said. “I’ll book an airship from the sect. Sightseeing and painting is one of the options you can pick from for reasons why you’re booking an airship.”
“Really?” Grandpa Vremya asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s convenient.”
“It’s convenient because it’s not actually an option,” Azalea said and rolled her eyes. “Airships are expensive to use, and there’s no way the sect will allow you to rent one out just for a sightseeing trip.”
Grandpa Vremya stroked his beard. “In that case, I’ll just have to build my own.”
“You can build an airship?” Azalea asked. “When did you learn how to do that?”
“An airship is just a whale golem capable of flight,” Grandpa Vremya said. “And you know what they call me. I’m the father of golem creation.”
Azalea turned her head away, looking off the side of the boat. It was true; Grandpa Vremya’s title really was the father of golem creation. Golem creation was becoming more popular amongst rogue cultivators and other sects in recent years, and everyone knew the current knowledge of golem creation came from Grandpa Vremya. However, it didn’t make any sense to know how to build an airship just by classifying it as a flying whale golem! In that case, couldn’t he classify the sun as a big, light-emitting golem? Could he build a sun too!? Of course, she wasn’t going to ask a question as stupid as that. Grandpa Vremya wouldn’t make fun of her, but he’d look at her as if she were an ant. “Do you have the materials to build the airship?”
“No,” Grandpa Vremya said. “Let’s stop by the Frostwind Empire and buy the required items.” With Azalea around, it would be easy to procure the materials for an airship. She was the first princess of the empire after all.
“Are you going to compete in the wine-brewing competition as well?” Azalea asked. “It’s been a hundred fifty years since the time you won. My dad missed your presence at the last two competitions.”
“I won’t.” Grandpa Vremya shook his head. With his unending stream of wealth, he didn’t need to do anything to earn money. Even though creating a bottle of wine was fast for him, it didn’t matter. In the time it’d take for him to brew the wine, his passive income would make much more money than the worth of the reward for winning the competition. Then, he’d have to wait and sit through the whole judging process? To put it simply, the competition was no longer worth his time. Besides, he already obtained a better armor set than the Frostwind one. Apparently, elders who taught lessons could earn silver-chicken feathers that way. He already had three full sets of the sect’s silver-chicken robes, and they were all golems with strength equivalent to a nascent-soul cultivator. After he had finished the second set of robes, the sect rules were changed, and one person could only obtain one set of the robes. In response, Grandpa Vremya continued exchanging his elder contribution points for feathers and had Azalea buy a set—which ended up as his third golem. In response to Grandpa Vremya’s response, the sect elders asked him nicely to stop buying out all the silver chicken equipment because the silver chickens were running out of feathers. Feeling bad for the chickens, Azalea agreed in Grandpa Vremya’s stead.
Azalea shrugged. “Alright,” she said. “Now, my dad can’t say I didn’t try.” She narrowed her eyes at Grandpa Vremya. “Doing whatever you want whenever you want is how you’ll nurture your nascent soul, correct?” Her face flushed red. “What do you think about brothels?”
“Brothels? I don’t think about them at all,” Grandpa Vremya said and waved his hand dismissively.
Azalea nodded. For the longest time, she had been wondering if there was a problem with Grandpa Vremya not liking her, but with this tidbit of information, she found out the problem wasn’t that. There was a problem with Grandpa Vremya in general. He might not even be attracted to women in the first place!
Thanks for the chapter!
That’s right… because the weird old river is obviously going to like other rivers in that way… you’re not his type lady… like… you’re not a beautiful flowing river with graceful curves and dips and fast parts and slow parts. The sounds are off too.
Was that a good approximation of a rivers appreciation for other rivers features?