Cultivation Nerd-Chapter 235: Youthful Granny Thoughts

Three hundred years… The realization felt surreal. She once revered elders like her teacher, who seemed so wise and worldly. She thought time would mold her into something similar.

Yet, here she was, the same girl she had always been. Stronger, yes. Wiser, perhaps. Her body had aged, her breasts sagged, and her youthful arrogance had long since faded. But fundamentally, she hadn't changed. The years had simply slipped by, blending into one another.

Three centuries wasted. She shook her head, dismissing the thought.

The Blazing Sun Sect sent elders and Qi Gathering disciples to the frontlines this year, hoping to avoid being caught off guard as they had the previous year. Even so, the death toll was uncomfortably high, elders included.

Winter beast waves had always been manageable for a sect as powerful as the Blazing Sun Sect. A chance for disciples to hone their skills in battle, perhaps even prove themselves by taking charge of a city or two.

But now, tension hung heavy in the air. Everyone felt it.

"It's something, isn't it?" a voice spoke behind her.

Xing Ju flinched and turned, only to find the Sect Leader standing there, hands clasped behind his back. His red robes, adorned with intricate golden patterns, fluttered in the wind as he gazed into the distance.

"Do you think a Nascent Soul beast is leading them?" he asked, his tone casual. "I'd say it's likely. Though, whoever's behind this probably won't bother showing themselves."

"Sect Leader," Xing Ju greeted him with a bow, clasping her hands in respect. Yet, the awe she once felt for the man was absent.

In her youth, she had been groomed to one day challenge this very man for his position. That dream had withered alongside her potential.

"Disappointing, really," the Sect Leader sighed. "The main entertainment isn't even in the Sect. Your son, despite sending so many of his clan to the frontlines, hasn't shown himself either."

A chill ran through Xing Ju like a bucket of icy water poured over her.

The Sect Leader had just confirmed what she and her allies had been trying to discern. They had hesitated, fearing the Song Clan Leader might be in hiding, cultivating in seclusion, or lying in wait nearby. But…

Why had he told her this?

She thought of the countless schemes the Core Elders had devised against this man. In five hundred years, no one had ever managed to gain the upper hand.

Now, at the end of her life, she saw things more clearly. They never stood a chance against him.

"Why tell me this?" Xing Ju asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

"Why not?" The Sect Leader shrugged, his youthful features betraying nothing. "Most of my entertainment has already left the Sect. I had hoped you might mold Song Song into a challenger, but now someone else is whispering in her ear. That kid's too cautious, so she'll never challenge me."

"As for you…" His gaze turned sharp. "The really old folk have outlived their usefulness. I'm just trying to squeeze one last show out of you."

The truth struck her like a blade. She wasn't a person in his eyes, none of them were. They were toys, valued only for the amusement they could provide.

How had she not seen it before?

"A grandmother killing her own grandson." The Sect Leader chuckled softly, a cruel edge to his voice. "Now that's something I don't get to see every day. I wonder… What kind of look will you have on your face when you see the truth? What makes you even try something like this?"

Xing Ju's stomach churned with anger, like a blazing inferno. But she kept her gaze steady, her expression calm. She couldn't afford to show such emotions in front of the Sect Leader. He treated her like a child, mocking her, toying with her... but she didn't dare lash out.

This was the cruel reality she found herself in: centuries of loyal servitude to the Blazing Sun Sect, only to be humiliated at the end of her life. The Sect discarded its elders when they became "useless," favoring the younger generation.

"The last time someone challenged me for my position," the Sect Leader began, his tone chatty, "was during the era of the previous Song Clan Head. He challenged me after reaching the Nascent Soul stage."

Xing Ju's eyes widened. Her heart skipped a beat. The lover she had tried to forget, had he truly ascended to the Nascent Soul realm? Why had she never heard of it?

"You should have seen him." The Sect Leader chuckled again, his gaze distant, as if reliving the moment. "He had more Sky-Grade techniques than I did. So confident, so certain he could win." He shook his head. "But confidence alone isn't strength. By then, I had already reached the peak of the Nascent Soul stage."

Another revelation struck her like a hammer. Many within the Sect had speculated about the Sect Leader's cultivation, assuming he was somewhere in the middle of the Nascent Soul realm. Breaking through each star in that stage was a monumental task, after all.

But he wasn't in the middle. He was at the peak.

At barely over five hundred years old, he had accomplished what most cultivators only dreamed of. While others slowed or stagnated, he had continued to grow.

"I expected Song Song to be the next challenger after her grandfather." He sighed, almost wistfully. "But it seems unlikely now. She's too cautious. That certain someone whispering in her ear won't let her make a move unless he knows my exact strength." His gaze darkened, the amusement in his eyes fading. "The Blazing Sun Sect has outlived its usefulness to me. I was waiting for a worthy challenge, but it seems that day will never come."

Xing Ju swallowed the lump in her throat. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Entertainment, mostly." The Sect Leader shrugged. His voice took on a rougher, more casual tone, almost like a farmer's drawl. "The last two centuries have been hella dull."

Xing Ju opened her mouth to respond, but her senses flared. A group of cultivators was approaching. She glanced down, spotting a small squad clad in dark robes, wooden plaques pinned to their shoulders.

They were members of the Investigation Squad.

Too old to be core students, yet too young and weak to be Core Elders, they patrolled the battlefield's outskirts when they should have been investigating the cause of the monstrous beasts' aggression.

But no. Instead, they had been sent by Zun Gon, the Sect's second-in-command, to track down some red-haired brat the old man had taken a liking to.

A waste of resources in times like these.

Zun Gon, known as the most righteous and just elder, had shocked many with this apparent lapse in judgment. His spotless reputation, earned over centuries, now bore a crack.

Though he hadn't committed his full power to the search, the act itself raised eyebrows. Others in his position would have abused their authority far more if one of their grandsons had gone missing, but it was still a vulnerability.

His rivals would pounce on this as soon as the beast wave ended. They would spin their stories, using it to tarnish his legacy.

As for the red-haired brat?

Most assumed he was dead.

Even if he was alive, no one except Zun Gon cared. The elders had already forgotten him, a fleeting talent lost too soon.

Yet, there had been something remarkable about the boy. Despite his supposedly mediocre cultivation talent, he had reached the Qi Gathering stage within a year of joining the Sect. That kind of result was hard to ignore.

Talent could be deceptive. Results, however, were undeniable.

Still, dying meant failure.

Xing Ju's gaze lingered on the Investigation Squad before she turned back to the distant snowy plains, where monstrous beasts clawed futilely at the walls. The beasts were slaughtered en masse, the Sect's defenses reducing them to little more than fodder for the meat grinder.

"Well," the Sect Leader said, breaking the silence. "I've lingered long enough. I'll let you get back to your little plan."

He stretched lazily as if the conversation had bored him.

"It's a shame we won't see each other again. Watching you grow into a bitter old woman was... a flavor of its own. Disappointing, yes. But still, interesting in its own way."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

With a wave of his hand, he vanished. His departure was so fast that Xing Ju didn't even sense it.

Once alone, she exhaled slowly. The cold bit into her scalp, seeping through her bones.

No matter how many years passed, she still felt like that naive teenage girl when she stood before the Sect Leader. His appearance hadn't changed; he still looked like a man in his early thirties. That only made it more unsettling, being berated by someone who looked younger than her.

Her thoughts scattered as more presences appeared beside her.

They were old, like her. The elders of the Sect.

Gray-haired, wrinkled, and tired.

Some were bald. Others were balding.

The only other woman in the group was toothless; her speech was slurred, and she was barely understandable when she spoke.

These were the last remnants of their generation, the forgotten, the discarded.

And soon, they too would be gone.

"We've eliminated most of Song San's supporters," said one of the elderly men. His long, silver hair shimmered in the faint light, a stark contrast to the deep wrinkles etched into his face. "Some of the secret squad associates his mother had were troublesome. We lost a couple of our own dealing with them. But it seems the Sect Leader is too preoccupied with the war to care."

Xing Ju opened her mouth, preparing to tell them that the Sect Leader knew everything and was likely watching them for his own twisted amusement. But she held back. Now wasn't the time to lower morale. They would deal with that revelation later.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

"Most of his support was nothing but paper tigers," said the bald elder, his head gleaming like polished marble. "He only kept them around to make himself seem more influential than he really was."

"There's a good chance he was planning to join forces with his sister down the line," added the toothless old woman, spittle flying from her cracked lips as she spoke.

The shadow war they'd been waging in the background was going in their favor. They had killed nearly all of Song San's remaining allies, with barely any losses on their side.

It was an overwhelming victory.

They moved freely in the chaos of the ongoing beast wave, using it as a distraction to slip through the sect grounds unnoticed. The Song Clan Head was absent, and their enemies within the Sect were eager to lend a hand in dismantling the remnants of his power.

Still, Xing Ju couldn't shake the thought of the Sect Leader. She never would have guessed he already knew everything and that he found their efforts nothing more than a source of entertainment.

The group soon arrived at their destination: an unassuming house with a small pond and a weathered tree standing watch by its side. It looked no different from any other home in the outer Sect, but they all knew it was where Song San was hiding.

As they landed in the yard, their steps silent on the grass, the door creaked open.

A man in a dark robe emerged, his face hidden behind a blank porcelain mask. He said nothing, simply watching them with a calm, unwavering gaze. After a moment, he pulled out a wooden sign roughly the size of a dog.

The message carved into it read: Lord Song San is not expecting visitors.

"I am his grandmother," Xing Ju said.

The porcelain-masked man tilted his head as if considering her words before shaking it slowly. Without hesitation, he dropped the sign and moved into a fighting stance.

Despite facing a group of Core Formation cultivators, he showed no fear. His movements were steady, his stance firm.

Xing Ju didn't bother exchanging words.

She took a step forward, the others falling in behind her. The masked man crouched low, pressing his hands to the ground. Black markings snaked through the grass, spreading outward as a barrier began to form.

But Xing Ju moved before it could manifest.

Like a gust of wind, she crossed the yard in a blink. Before the masked man could react, her hand drove through his chest, crushing his ribcage with ease.

There had been stories of Qi Gathering cultivators holding their own against Foundation Establishment opponents, rare geniuses capable of bridging that gap.

But the difference between Foundation Establishment and Core Formation?

That chasm was far wider.

Core Formation cultivators moved faster than their enemies could think.

Xing Ju withdrew her arm, blood slicking her sleeve. The masked man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

As she stood over the body, her gaze lingered on her bloodstained hand. Her thoughts drifted.

Where had her life gone wrong?

It all led back to him.

The Song Clan's young master, the man she once loved. They had been so in love… until he took the mantle of Clan Head. Everything had changed after that. He became cold and calculating, like a stranger.

And her grandchildren?

She felt no affection for them. How could she, when they were living proof of her wasted life?

The only exception had been Song Song.

Those brief years spent with the girl had been the closest Xing Ju had come to feeling like a real grandmother. But even then, there had always been a shadow of doubt. Song Song was too much like her father.

Still, the thought of her brought a faint smile to Xing Ju's lips.

Despite everything, she was proud of one thing. Song Song would never become like her.

That girl had a future.

As her mind wandered, memories of the previous Song Clan Leader surfaced. They had been the same age. He had disappeared after passing leadership to their son.

Had he truly died challenging the Sect Leader?

No. Xing Ju knew better.

Her old lover wasn't a reckless man. He wouldn't have acted without a trump card.

She stared at her bloodied hand and sighed deeply.

Her life felt… empty.

This was supposed to be her final act to destroy the seed of the mistake she had made all those years ago. But there was no satisfaction in it.

Only a hollow ache.

For centuries, she had drowned herself in duty. Now, at the end of her journey, there was nothing left to distract her from the truth.

Even mortal women, who lived less than a third of her lifespan, likely lived fuller lives than she had.

Sure, she had power. But what had it brought her?

Here she was. Killing. Always killing.

And for what?

As blood dripped from her hand, leaving crimson stains in the grass, she walked toward the house. The other elders followed silently.

They called themselves The Old Society, and were a secretive faction that had controlled much of the Sect's inner workings for the past hundred years.

Each of them had joined for different reasons.

Xing Ju?

She had joined to help Song Song rise.

Xing Ju wasn't even sure what she wanted anymore.

She chuckled bitterly to herself. Three hundred years lived, and still clueless about life.

Her musings were interrupted by a soft shuffling sound from the porch. The sliding door creaked open, revealing a green-haired young man with a cold, detached expression.

As her sources had confirmed, Song San was here.

He stepped forward, placing his hand on the edge of the doorway. Under his grip, the wood blackened and cracked, tendrils of darkness spreading like rot. A foul, acrid stench filled the air as the wood groaned in protest. Slowly, the house began to crumble inward, collapsing under the corruption.

"Poison!" the toothless old woman shrieked, leaping back with surprising agility.

The others followed her lead, retreating to a safe distance.

Xing Ju swung her hand, summoning a powerful gust of wind that slammed into the collapsing house. The debris scattered like straw, blown away by her technique.

With centuries of experience, Xing Ju knew how to handle poison cultivators. They were tricky foes, dangerous even when they were a stage lower and capable of inflicting lasting, debilitating injuries. She had no intention of testing her endurance against poison at her age.

Poison users were best dealt with in open air.

Her gaze flickered to the transparent barrier surrounding the garden, a protective array that kept the grounds lush and untouched by the harsh winter outside. With a single swipe of her hand, she shattered the barrier.

Cold air rushed in like a hungry serpent, biting at their skin.

"Well," Song San said, glancing at the corpse of his masked subordinate. "There goes years of guarding." His tone was light, almost mocking. He bowed his head briefly. "Rest easy, uncle. You can join Mother now. Sorry for being such a hassle all these years."

Suddenly, the bald elder in their group coughed violently, spitting out a thick, dark sludge. Black, ink-like blood oozed from his eyes, nose, and ears.

"What...?" The elder's voice was barely a whisper before he collapsed to his knees and pitched forward, face-first into the dirt.

Dead.

One of the Core Formation elders was killed in an instant.

Xing Ju's heart sank.

"Grandmother," Song San greeted her with a twisted smile, his dark robe marking him as a Core Disciple. "How kind of you to visit. And you brought friends."

"It was foolish to show yourself so openly," Xing Ju said, her voice steady. "You should have run when you had the chance."

Song San shrugged. "I knew what was happening to my supporters. The Sect Leader doesn't seem to care much for the fate of the Song Clan."

"Is that so?" Xing Ju said softly. She said no more, choosing instead to act.

Without hesitation, she charged at her grandson, her hand glowing with lethal wind Qi.

Poison cultivators were dangerous, even capable of harming those with higher cultivation. But for a Core Formation elder to die so quickly… an uneasy feeling twisted in Xing Ju's stomach.

Still, there was no hesitation in her steps. She felt no guilt, no sorrow. Perhaps she should have done this years ago.

Her hand shot toward Song San's chest, aiming to pierce through–

But suddenly, another hand, black-nailed and twisted with poison, grabbed her wrist.

What?

Xing Ju's eyes widened in shock.

It was Song San. He had caught her attack.

How?

She knew she was slower than she had been in her prime, but even so, no Foundation Establishment cultivator should have been able to stop her.

Dark bruises spread across her arm from the point of contact. The poison worked fast, sinking into her flesh like fangs.

Without a second thought, Xing Ju attacked her own arm that her grandson had grabbed onto.

Her wind blade sliced clean through her shoulder, cutting off the poisoned limb before the corruption could spread further. Blood splattered onto the ground as she leapt back, her gaze locked on the withering, foul-smelling remains of her arm.

Such a potent poison.

This wasn't the work of a typical poison user.

Song San stood tall, his Qi flaring like an uncontrolled wildfire. His aura flickered and danced without rhythm, a clear sign of instability. He had broken through recently. Perhaps a day ago. Maybe even just hours ago.

The arrays around the house must have masked the breakthrough.

Still, it was undeniable.

Song San had reached Core Formation. At twenty-five years old.

"How?" Xing Ju whispered, disbelief mingling with unease. Song San had always been talented, but this level of advancement was unprecedented. Not even his sister, Song Song, could achieve such a feat at his age.

Song San's smile widened, pride gleaming in his eyes.

"Surprised?" he asked, his voice low and steady. "No one ever believed I could surpass Song Song. The only advantage I had was the few years I was born before her. But I never doubted. Not once."

His words dripped with defiance.

"How did you achieve this?" the toothless old woman demanded, spitting her words through cracked lips. "Your progress isn't natural."

"Only losers like you believe that," Song San sneered. "Those who give up when others tell them they've reached their limit." He took a step forward, his presence radiating poison and malice. "I never cared when people said I couldn't keep up with my sister, and this isn't the end of the road either. I will reach Nascent Soul before her. And I will go even beyond that."

Xing Ju barely registered his words.

A sudden brightness from above caught her attention.

Her eyes widened as she glanced up.

A massive ball of molten lava hovered in the sky above the Blazing Sun Sect.

It was impossibly large, eclipsing the entire Sect.

"What…?" Song San's voice faltered, surprise flashing across his face.

At first, Xing Ju thought it might be the Sect Leader's doing. But this wasn't his style. Nor did it match his Qi signature.

No.

This felt different.

It felt natural.

A heavenly calamity?

At a time like this?

The ball of lava churned ominously, casting a fiery glow across the sky.

The heavens themselves seemed ready to descend upon the Blazing Sun Sect.

And none of them were prepared.