Chapter 66: The Meaning of Cultivation

Sky Grotto Peak contained a world of its own.

Over several centuries, generations of cultivators tirelessly hollowed out the immense, sky-piercing mountain, nearly emptying it.

Inside the mountain, countless honeycomb-like caves led to over a dozen sets of stairs. The initial sections of these stairs were stone, while the latter half, after a turn, were primarily wooden. Following the stairs, the view opened up dramatically, revealing vast, interconnected spaces.

These spaces were not dark, as every stone brick and rock formation glowed. All the residential grottoes were carved directly into the mountain, elegantly furnished with beds, incense tables, braziers, curio shelves, and all other necessities, exquisitely crafted and complete.

At the very center of the peak stood a colossal, cylindrical wooden pillar that seemed to touch the sky. This massive pillar was assembled from countless blocks of wood and extended many huge wooden arms, supporting everything within this mountain world.

“This is the Coiling Dragon Pillar. From the foot of the mountain to its base, it serves as the central axis for all the mountain's chambers, libraries, hidden peaks, and numerous mechanical structures. It's said that the first patriarch, leading dozens of master cultivators, spent over a decade to create it. This Coiling Dragon Pillar is fire-resistant, impervious to swords, and even a peak Ziting cultivator would find it difficult to destroy,” Yazhu explained to them, her expression betraying a hint of pride as she pointed out the colossal timber, of which only the tip of the iceberg was visible.

Ning Xiaoling exclaimed with genuine admiration, “How impressive!”

She looked at the colossal timber, known as the Coiling Dragon Pillar, and felt it resembled a massive tree, with the entire mountain serving as its sprawling branches and leaves.

“Coiling Dragon Pillar...” Ning Changjiu's thoughts drifted as he recalled some ancient records.

Legends spoke of the ancient times, when places like Nanming, Yunguo, and Guhuang had massive, mountain-like pillars that were dwelling places for ancient dragons. Many of these ancient pillars even had remnants of dragon scales, which, when collected, could be forged into precious and extremely rare armor known as Azure Scale Armor.

However, for unknown reasons, true ancient dragons have rarely appeared since a thousand years ago, with only the descendants of ancient dragons remaining active.

Amidst her awe, Ning Xiaoling couldn't help but ask, “Isn't it better to live outside the mountain? Why go to such great lengths to hollow out the entire mountain?”

Many disciples newly arrived at the Exalted Sword Heavenly Sect had similar questions.

Yazhu thought for a moment, then countered, “Xiaoling, what do you think is the meaning of cultivation?”

Ning Xiaoling pondered for a moment, then replied, “Cultivating the Grand Dao, seeking eternal life?”

Yazhu nodded, then asked, “What if you know you cannot cultivate the Grand Dao, nor achieve eternal life?”

Ning Xiaoling looked at the vast, intricate, yet exquisitely beautiful world within the mountain, pondering, “Then do something you enjoy?”

Yazhu said, “Most cultivators never get the chance to glimpse the true Grand Dao in their lifetime; simply living long is their peak achievement. So what if one lives for a hundred years? During that century, one certainly shouldn't spend every day grieving over a lack of progress. Instead, one should do meaningful things, such as changing the world.”

“Changing the world?” The phrase stirred a slight ripple in Ning Xiaoling's heart. She suddenly remembered something and asked, “But Lu... Master told me that cultivators should withdraw from the world.”

Yazhu smiled slightly, “That's not contradictory. Every year during the Month of No Deities, cultivators slay demons for the human world. Many cultivators, after achieving longevity, also return to protect families and cities. And numerous peace-keeping organizations among common folk have a large number of cultivators participating.”

Ning Xiaoling nodded emphatically, then suddenly turned to Ning Changjiu and asked earnestly, “Senior brother, what do you think is the purpose of cultivation?”

Yazhu also looked at him, thinking that the young man seemed to have great ambitions, but his unchangeable innate conditions destined him only to glimpse the scenery at the entrance of the Grand Dao.

But she was also curious to hear what he would say.

Ning Changjiu replied calmly, almost without thinking, “Cultivation is to understand this world.”

“How about we pick this room? It faces east, so we can see the sunrise first thing.”

“The fog is too thick here; you wouldn't get a clear view even with the sun out. Not good.”

“Then this one? The fog is thin here, and we can even see the distant lake.”

“This is the shady side of the mountain; it's dim year-round. Not good.”

“What about this one? Plenty of light, abundant spiritual energy. No objections this time, senior brother?”

“Hmm… It's already winter, and the north wind is too cold. Sitting here for too long, you might catch a chill. Not good.”

“Oh, come on, I'm half a cultivator myself! I won't catch a chill that easily. Besides, senior brother, didn't you say I could pick myself? Why are you suddenly disapproving of everything? You always trick me!”

“Many fathers in the world tell their daughters, 'Just pick someone you like for a husband in the future,' but when it actually comes down to it, it’s always a different story.”

“Hmm… Senior brother, now I feel like you're an undercover agent from a demonic sect!”

“I'm just offering suggestions. Of course, I won't stop you if you truly want to pick it, junior sister.”

“You have so many opinions, senior brother! Why don't you go live with Master Jiajia then? The Peak Master's Hall is so beautiful and has a wide view; that should satisfy you!” Ning Xiaoling retorted.

“...” Ning Changjiu hesitated, then finally said, “You pick. Senior brother won't say another word.”

Ultimately, Ning Xiaoling settled on a room facing north, and Ning Changjiu chose the room adjacent to hers.

He sat by the window, adjusting to the scenery outside.

Outside the peak, snow had begun to fall gently.

He gazed at the vast expanse of sky and clouds to the north, a sudden spiritual insight stirring within him, yet he didn't know what it portended.

He pondered for a while, but no clear thoughts emerged.

So Ning Changjiu remained seated, his pair of snow-white sleeves folded on his lap. The window was open, and a cool breeze drifted from south to north, brushing against his brow and eyes, his ink-black long hair fluttering in the wind.

When he was sixteen, he also enjoyed sitting quietly like this, gazing at the scenery beyond the cliff.

Now the scenery had changed. In that unseeable monastery far beyond the horizon, his six senior brothers and sisters should still be as they always were.

Only one youngest disciple was missing.

It seemed he would have to continue troubling his sixth senior brother.

The thought of his sixth senior brother, silent with a head of silver hair, being forced into a busy state, made him unable to help but laugh.

He had pondered for many days, unable to comprehend why he had returned twelve years into the past, and why this sixteen-year-old self had coincidentally not met his master yet, but ultimately still changed his name to Ning Changjiu.

In this world, were coincidences truly inevitable?

However, the thought that his six senior brothers and sisters were still in the same world as him, and that they might meet again someday if fate allowed, made him feel joyful.

He never believed that achieving enlightenment and ascension was truly that important; it was merely a task his master had assigned him before going into seclusion.

The twenty-four years of springs and autumns in that monastery were what he cherished most from his past.

That's why, when Ning Xiaoling asked him today, he gave that answer.

Although his name was Changjiu (Long-Lasting), what he sought at this moment was not longevity or eternal life.

He wanted to know the root cause of what had happened to him, how this world truly operated now, and what the birth and formation of the Outerworld Immortal Court, the Twelve Hidden Nations, and the Spirit-Devourers of the Floating Ruin Sea truly portended.

Of course, most importantly, he still wanted to know: what exactly was his master planning?

Was turning back time by twelve years her doing...?

Clouds and mist, like white drapes dancing wildly in a strong wind, swept past his eyes, one layer after another.

He suddenly took out the withered branch and placed it on the desk, gazing at its smooth, mirror-like surface, which now resembled black iron. This object originated from his body, yet he had no idea what it was. He had tried to destroy it, but no matter what he did, he couldn't leave any mark on its surface.

However, he knew this object was definitely connected to his master.

“This is my sword, and also my coffin?”

He recalled this sentence.

These were the last words he heard in his previous life, words he should have only heard twelve years later.

Winter's first snow came and went quickly; before the mountaintop could accumulate a blanket of white, the wind and snow gradually dispersed.

At night, the sky was ablaze with stars. Winds, carried by streams of spiritual energy, swept through the surrounding mountains with a sharp chill, creating long, mournful sounds within Sky Grotto Peak's natural rock caves.

The earth's sounds howled.

As if the heavens were weeping.

Whether inner disciples within the peak or outer disciples at its base, many would choose this moment to meditate quietly, absorbing the essence of the stars and moon. During the change of seasons, the heavens and earth always held a subtle, profound cosmic mystery, and if a fated individual were to gain a flicker of insight, the benefits would be immeasurable.

But Ning Changjiu neither raced against time to absorb spiritual energy to fill his Qi Sea, nor did he meditate to seek a sliver of divine will. He remained seated, motionless.

He lacked a knife, and that knife must be one he had seen in his previous life. He needed to figure out what it was.

A knock on the door suddenly sounded, scattering his thoughts.

“Senior brother?” In the darkness, Ning Xiaoling squeezed in, crouching low, and softly called out.

“Hmm?” Ning Changjiu was slightly surprised and said, “The sect rules explicitly state that disciples within the peak are not allowed to communicate privately at night. If others see this and tell Lu Jiajia, it wouldn't be good.”

“Senior brother, how many times have you said 'not good' today? Saying 'not good' so often is not good!” Ning Xiaoling whispered, walking silently to his side and sitting down.

“Alright,” Ning Changjiu said, smiling and nodding.

In the night, Ning Xiaoling's eyes appeared even clearer and brighter.

“Senior brother, I want to tell you something. I'll leave as soon as I'm done.”