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Cultivation Nerd: Chapter 315
🕑 Added 2025-08-25 22:02:24 +0000 UTCChapter 315 - A Pass Time
Following Zun Gon's declaration, a heavy silence settled over the hall like a velvet curtain.
These were the upper echelons of the sect, elders who had lived through calamities, wars, betrayals, and golden eras alike. They were not the type to clap or cheer. They did not wear their emotions on their sleeves.
But their eyes told another story.
Some narrowed with calculation. Others gleamed with fresh interest. A few softened, the fire of loyalty rekindled behind their wrinkled brows. The combination of miraculous healing and Zun Gon's unwavering declaration had clearly struck a chord.
For more than a few of them, it had worked, and the tide of sentiment was shifting.
While most were caught up in silent awe or internal calculations, Song Song nudged me.
I turned toward her, and she subtly pointed toward a short man with brown braided hair and fang tattoos on his cheeks.
He looked like he belonged to one of the barbarian mountain tribes that roamed the rugged borders between our sect and the Titanic Blade Sect, broad-shouldered, wild-eyed, with thick braids and weathered skin that spoke of harsh winters and harder lives.
There was a rawness to him. Something untamed. As if civilization had only brushed against him once, then moved on.
“That’s the guy who made the tier six pill Zun Gon consumed,” Song Song whispered. “His name is Muchen. A tier six alchemist… and a level six array conjurer.”
Huh? Someone who reached such high levels in two professions at once? Sometimes people like that made me reevaluate what I thought was possible.
“What cultivation stage is he?” I asked quietly.
Though with someone like him, he could probably hear us if he wanted to. The fact that I couldn’t clearly sense his cultivation likely meant he was a Core Formation Cultivator.
“He’s a seven-star Core Formation cultivator,” she said.
Wow. That was impressive enough on its own. And he still had time left to break through and could very well become a Nascent Soul cultivator too.
I hadn’t seen him at any meetings before this. He was probably one of those individuals who never attended the meetings.
“He’s also the only tier six alchemist left in the sect,” Song Song added. “The other one died last year during the beast waves.”
I nodded slowly.
This guy had been at the peak of his power even when the previous Sect Leader was alive. He held real influence… and respect.
When I eventually reached Core Formation and gained some lifespan to spare, I should consider branching into other professions like alchemy. And when that time came, maybe I’d ask this guy for advice and his recipes.
Either way, this situation no longer had much to do with us.
Thankfully, even Song Song seemed calm and reading the room well.
She was too weak, at least for now, to compete head-to-head with Zun Gon. And she didn’t have enough support. So, it wasn’t our turn yet.
For now, my next big problem was figuring out how to write and publish a book with Song San.
Well, more like I write it and just put his name on the cover. He had helped with the research, after all.
…
A month passed since Zun Gon’s declaration, slipping by in the blink of an eye during these surprisingly peaceful days. After his grandiose speech, the sect had begun to move like a well-oiled machine once again. Disciples trained with renewed energy. Elders returned to their duties. Even the air within the sect felt lighter, as if the weight of past disasters had finally begun to lift.
Rebuilding continued not just of stone and wood, but of morale. Order returned. Slowly but surely. And for once, things felt… stable.
I sat atop the roof of the library, legs swinging over the edge, watching my two disciples below, one training and one cultivating.
My lab had been built just last week, and everything was going exceptionally well.
Well, except for the ongoing issue that was Song Song's father. However, things were generally on the up and up.
I suddenly sensed a pulse of Qi from Song Song’s direction, specifically from her new abode. She’d built a house on the land where our mansion used to be.
To most, this pulsing Qi might seem like her experimenting with a technique or adjusting her circulation. But I knew better. It was her version of ringing the doorbell.
I jumped from the edge of the library pagoda roof where I’d been sitting, letting gravity take me.
The wind howled past my ears as I fell, limbs spread wide like a starfish. Cold air stung my face. The ground rushed toward me in a blur of white and brown. I waited until the very last moment before igniting my Qi.
My fall slowed instantly, and I shot forward just above the snow, scooping up a handful of it before soaring back into the sky.
Less than a dozen seconds later, I was floating above Song Song’s house.
Her mansion was close, though with supersonic flight, everything was close.
As a Core Elder with growing status in the sect, Song Song had naturally requested a residence fit for her rank: a luxurious mansion that left no room for modesty. The entire structure was made of pristine white stone that gleamed like polished marble under the sun, giving it an almost divine glow.
Everything, from sweeping arches to towering columns, was carved in that same radiant hue. Even the tiled roof shimmered, as if it had been dusted with fresh snow. It looked less like a house and more like a palace.
Honestly, it reminded me of the White House from my old world.
I floated down to the front door and walked inside without knocking. The moment I stepped in, I was greeted by the unexpected sight of a bright pink couch smack in the middle of the main hallway.
A staircase rose ahead, splitting near the top, while wide hallways branched off to either side.
But the pink couch… yeah, that was a choice.
It stood out like a sore thumb in the otherwise regal, white décor. Like someone had dropped a piece of bubblegum into a cathedral.
And there she was, Song Song, sprawled across the couch without a care in the world, lazily flipping through a book, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. Her dark hair cascaded down the armrest of the couch, as she glanced at me from the corner of her eye, before her gaze returned to the book.
“This is an excellent book,” she said. “It describes snake species in detail, from poisons and antidotes up to the Foundation Establishment level. Even touches a bit on Core Formation poisons.”
Yeah, that was what the synopsis said. Not exactly a surprise she knew that.
My book with Song San was finished and published a few days ago. I’d told Song Song, and she’d immediately insisted on getting a copy.
As for my relationship with Song San? We had a kind of mutual respect in our shared field, paired with a healthy agreement to stay out of each other’s way.
We both posed quite a risk to each other. Better that way.
Still, he came by the library now and then, usually asking about some obscure monstrous beast. It was casual. He got what he wanted and left. Simple.
“I’ve invited Wu Yan and Fu Yating over for lunch,” Song Song said.
I nodded.
A quiet moment passed. Then:
“This is quite the place, no?” she said, stretching on the couch. “Have you thought about living here?”
“No thanks,” I replied without a shred of hesitation. “It feels like I’d get a headache just from staring at all this for too long.”
Song Song barely slept more than once every two weeks, and when she ate, she always came to our place.
So while she used this mansion to take her naps, there wasn’t much difference in our schedules or in how much time we spent together, despite her “living” here.
Also, I’d made sure to layer the place with plenty of arrays.
“Hey, I like it,” she insisted.
“I have no doubt you do,” I said. “Also, I think the place adds to your charm.”
Song Song frowned, already sensing my following words before I even said them.
“You’re like a headache, and with this place on top of that, you’re double so.”
The décor and design of this house felt like something a child would dream up for their “coolest house ever,” then actually build if given the means.
She clearly wanted to act offended, I could see it in her face, but in the end, she couldn’t play up the anger and instead asked, “Do you have any arrays that’ll give people flying over my home an actual headache?”
This woman… truly a menace.
“Not really,” I said. “Not unless I’m around to coordinate the mental attacks.”
Sure, I could probably cook something up in a couple of days. But I’d also be one of the people flying over her house the most. I might end up the biggest victim.
“Anyway, our two other cohorts should be here soon,” she said.
Without looking up from her book, she bit her thumb. A thin trail of blood trickled down her hand, and from it, a dagger no longer than a finger took shape, crimson, glistening, and needlessly sharp. With a flick, the blood-forged blade zipped out the open window, darting through the air with uncanny precision, as if it had a mind of its own.
A typical Song Song way of sending a message: dramatic, mildly threatening, and surprisingly effective.
“I thought you already invited them?” I asked.
“No, I just wanted to see your reaction and guess your thoughts from your expression. What if you didn't want them around?”
Using her brain more was really doing her good. She hadn’t been this thoughtful before she started going to the meetings.
While we waited for Wu Yan and Fu Yating, I glanced at the book she was pretending to read.
“You don’t have to act. I know you’re not reading it.”
I knew exactly what kind of content was in there; it wasn’t her kind of reading at all.
Song Song pouted at being called out. She looked ready to refute me, but stopped midway, knowing full well I’d quiz her about the contents.
And she’d have no idea.
To be fair, it was a boring book, heavy on theory. Still, it had sold well, probably just riding the hype of the previous ones.
Just then, I sensed Wu Yan approaching with Fu Yating in tow. There was something controlled, almost condensed, about the way Wu Yan’s Qi moved.
Was she close to another breakthrough?
Comments
Overclocked
I hope Wu Yan heals Fu Yating so she can cultivate again.
Undead Writer
TFTC!
