Cultivation System: Elder Edition

Chapter 291

Moonlake City (V)

[--Creator's Eyes used]

[Target: Pànqiū]

[Age: 1,698]

[Talent: ???]

[Cultivation Realm: middle True God Realm]

[Cultivation Method: ???]

[Cultivation Arts: ???, ???, ???...]

[...]

[Traits]

[Earthen Touch (???) -- can discern properties of any nature-born herb by merely touching it; cultivating herbs of any rarity is far easier; can grow herbs in climates they ordinarily don't appear in; has a low chance of cultivating Divine Seeds; naturally extracts all usefulness from an ingredient, regardless of what it is prepared for]

[Recluse (Mythological) -- prefers solitude to interaction and almost never interacts with the outside world. Has long since severed the Bonds of Humanity with everyone]

[Kind (Epic) -- unnaturally kind]

[Heart-Scar (???) -- a deeply inflicted wound tracing back to the very beginning of her life that has since become a rooted scar; occasionally flares up and causes severe, debilitating pain. Prevents ascension into the Nirvana Realm]

[--Host is not strong enough to discern other traits]

[...]

[Assessing Suitability...]

[...]

[Special Physique and Bloodline Discovered]

[Root-Breath Body (???) -- a body born of perfect coalescence of Five Elements at the moment of birth. The bearer is naturally spiritually aligned and perceives the world through internal senses more so than external. They can breathe life back into decaying flora, naturally curate plants, and even create seeds that otherwise do not exist naturally. They are internally blessed by Heavenly Dao and will never meet any obstacles during breakthroughs so long as they remain steadfast in their pursuit of Dao. Myths whisper that, at its absolute peak, Root-Breath Body can create life itself with a singular breath, turning an ordinary stone into a sentient sage]

[...]

[Fae-Clan Bloodline (Legendary) -- traces of the Ancient Fae reside within the target's blood; the purity is extremely low, indicating that she may be one of the last bearers of it, as it has been beyond diluted throughout the eons. However, despite that, the mere few traces of it afford the target extremely vast longevity, where even if they had remained a mortal, they may have been able to live up to 200 years. Ancient Fae have been hunted into extinction by The Court due to their alliance with the Dragons, though the half-fae and half-human Bloodline had appeared quite some time beforehand. As it is a patrilineal bloodline, the target's children cannot inherit it]

[...]

[Recommendation: the highest priority is regulating the Heart-Scar; though Heart-Stitching Art on its own is inadequate in completely resolving it simply because of how long it has had to embed itself into the target's heart, it will resolve the most immediate concern of cultivation itself, as it will allow the target to eventually reach the Nirvana Realm]

[...]

[Final Assessment: an extraordinarily complex figure with multitudes of contradictions contained therein that run as deep as the mythos of their ancestry; the Dao of Cooking, rare and often mocked for being classified as a 'Mortal Path' more so than a 'Heavenly Path', is entirely capable of guiding a devoted cultivator through the Crowning and becoming of an Empress, and the target's innate talent is more than enough to support it. The issue resides in the deep scars and contradictions, all of which severely damage the eventual endpoint; as for whether the target will ever become an Empress, it is extremely unlikely, even with Host's intervention]

Huh.

Honestly, that was one of the thickest status windows I've ever encountered, and it's not even the full extent of it, as I imagine quite a few bits of information remain hidden from me. Nonetheless, I'm pretty sure even Lao Shun severely underestimates just how special this old lady is, which is why I turned toward Long Tao.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

He merely looked back at me and tilted his head, as though to ask 'What?', though whether he knew about her situation or not... I couldn't tell.

Was I going to take her in as a Disciple? Of course not. Not only is it beyond absurd, as she's almost two thousand fucking years old, but she could whoop our asses with the tip of her finger and then use our mashed-up bodies as ingredients for some morbid and macabre soup.

As we finished eating, the kids slowly started retreating into their rooms, and before even realizing it, it was just me and the woman--the reason I stayed was partly because I was lost in thought, but partly because I wanted to help clean up.

As I carried off mostly empty trays and plates (no, seriously, we basically managed to eat all of it, despite it looking like a buffet meant for an entire Amish community rather than a small group of people) to the back end of her small house, I wondered whether to hand her the Heart-Stitching Art.

Even if I did, though, could she read it?

... would she even care enough to take a glance at something given to her by somebody she likely sees as an utter weakling? I mean, there's that 'Kind' in there, and though I do trust the system's broad definition of people's traits, things get rather funky when it comes to specifics.

People, ultimately, aren't binary sets of condensed traits--we are complexly layered things that breathe nuance every step of the way. Just because somebody is kind doesn't mean they can't also be angry, or petty, or vengeful. My theory is that the system simply condenses it all into an 'average'--so, on average, she is kind. Moment to moment? I'd never know.

As we finished cleaning up, I gritted my teeth and pulled out the art--making connections is what this world is all about. Without Lao Shun, for better or worse, we likely would have never come here. Not just to this house, but to Moonlake City in general.

Similarly, without Madame Lu, I would have never taken in Wan Lan and would have never taken Rayce in had we not bothered with people back in the castle.

Even if nothing comes of it, leaving a good impression--or merely treating it as a gratitude for a hearty meal--matters.

She tilted her head in confusion as I handed her the tome with a faint smile.

"I don't know if you can understand me," I said. "But I am deeply resonant with people's hearts--call it a physique, a bloodline, or perhaps something else entirely. I feel when people's hearts aren't quite right. I'd sensed it with a few of my disciples and other people I've met in the past, and I've found that this art that my father left behind has been somewhat helpful. It won't cure the ail, far from it, but it might mitigate the hurt just a bit.

"The meal was... beautiful. Beyond simple taste, it was resonant in ways I hadn't experienced in a long time. I can't offer much in terms of wealth, but, please, take this as a form of gratitude. You needn't practice it, of course; I merely ask that you do not share it with others, if at all possible. Uhm. Right. You probably didn't understand any of that. Ha ha. And I'm still talking. Yup. Yap, yap, yap. That's me. The yapper. Khm, thanks. I, I will go rest a bit..."

Jesus.

Talk about awkward.

I hurriedly stuffed the tome into her hands and scurried off, thankful that there was nobody to witness it--nope, there was Long Tao, standing and leaning against the wall, with that patented shitty grin of his.

"Not a word," I growled.

"How about a pantomime?"

"... do you really enjoy doing this?"

"Honestly? More than anything in the world."

"That sounds extremely depressing."

"Perhaps," he chuckled. "But I don't mind it. You shock us all enough that you deserve to occasionally be made fun of. It's a fair comeuppance, I say."

"Hm. Maybe I'll just stop shocking you, then. Oh my. Just now, I had this flash in my mind, and I suddenly forgot this secret sword art that my grandaunt left me. Ah, look at that--an entire library of movement arts left behind by my granddaughter just vanished. How mystical."

"..." His eyebrows twitched as he swallowed a retort and walked away.

Did I just discover a secret weapon? Just threaten to withhold all future arts, and he backs away?

Heh.

He he he he.

This could be fun.