Bombarding Cultivators with Cluster Artillery
Chapter 692 - 673: Hope to See My Heavenly Monarch Jiang After Nine Thousand Years

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After class,

Jiang Ding didn't return to the dormitory, wandering aimlessly around Xianmen Sect, tearing through space and shuttling between locations, until he found himself unintentionally in his hometown, Rong City.

Looking around, people bustled to and fro.

Elderly people in their twilight years, middle-aged people bearing heavy burdens, spirited young people, a group of kindergartners wearing little yellow caps.

Old age, middle age, youth, childhood—it was like witnessing the entire lifespan of a person.

Glancing around, in his hometown, he couldn't find a single familiar face anymore; childhood friends, their children, all had turned into dust, remembered only by a few.

The family in this world was few and far between, on the verge of goodbye.

"Mother…"

Jiang Ding murmured softly to himself.

Lin Wanqiu, this year 207 years old, was 97 years away from her extended life limit. Currently, she was in the latter stage of Foundation Building and a long way from the peak of Foundation Building.

And, the path to Golden Pill after reaching the peak of Foundation Building held almost no hope.

With just ordinary talent and intelligence, even the presence of elixirs to form a Golden Core, there would be no change.

99% of people in the world were the same.

So ordinary, so beyond recover, without any hope of reaching for the Golden Pill.

Even the one-in-a-hundred-thousand dual Spiritual Root geniuses had to endure slaughter and bloodshed, tempering their mana and Divine Soul, for a chance at forging a Golden Pill.

Along the way, the number of Foundation-building cultivators who fell behind and perished was as common as carps crossing a river.

"The great Dao is merciless..."

Jiang Ding strolled slowly through the city, both familiar and strange.

From time to time, elderly people looked at the fifteen or sixteen-year-old youth with curiosity, having no recollection of him in this small population city.

After some thought, they smiled wryly, dismissing him as a student from afar.

No one knew him, no one thought of him.

What did it mean to the people now, the valedictorian of Xianmen Sect from Rong City, who had lived over a hundred, nearly two hundred years ago?

Long buried in stacks of old papers, in some forgotten corner of a website that might not have been accessed in decades.

Time had buried everything.

History was filled with countless people who once shone bright.

Suddenly feeling somewhat melancholic, Jiang Ding aimlessly wandered the city streets, like a child unable to find his mother, walking alone, not knowing when he would stop.

Until he reached a high-end residential area.

Pure white obituary notices, white cloth everywhere, and scattered ritual paper money.

In a corner, a notice with black writing on white paper, with a few words clearly visible.

'Mr. Hua Long's funeral arrangements...'

Jiang Ding was startled.

Hua Long.

The father of his high school class president Hua Bing, a Foundation-building cultivator he had heard about since childhood.

This Foundation-builder did not harbor a strong desire for the Dao; even as a cultivator, he maintained the routine of a mortal, living day by day with his daughter and family. After achieving Foundation Building, he stayed in this small city of his homeland, rarely venturing out.

And now, he had reached the end of his life.

"Even elder cultivators are beginning to pass away…"

Jiang Ding sighed softly and entered the gathering.

No one stopped him, guests came and went in a constant stream to pay their respects. Having taken root in Rong City for a lifetime, the cultivator had nurtured countless well-connected juniors, rendering him extremely popular—many of the visitors were deeply grieved, genuine sentiments visible, none showing indifference after his passing.

Following the queue of people, he lit a stick of incense before the urn and portrait of the old man.

"Thank you."

Hua Bing stood by his side, eyes swollen with tears, softly expressing gratitude, "If my father knew that an Immortal Jin Dan came from afar to offer condolences in person, he would have been very pleased."

"Condolences."

Jiang Ding nodded without saying much, and turned to leave.

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Hua Bing was now at the peak of Foundation Building, with both his mana and Divine Sense honed to a certain limit, laying a profound foundation.

For many years, he battled on the Xianmen Sect's battlefield, experiencing many dangers and gaining numerous opportunities; all his efforts had not been in vain.

Presumably, in the coming years, he would make a breakthrough to the Golden Pill stage.

Li Junhao was not here.

Over the span of more than a hundred years, the emotions of their high school days had somewhat faded; he was now preoccupied with a major research project that he had struggled to secure, which might offer an opportunity to achieve Foundation Establishment, leaving no time to spare.

Jiang Ding had no extra words of comfort to offer.

A Foundation-building cultivator nearing two hundred years had long grown accustomed to life and death, having experienced many things and become indifferent to many more; her sorrow was not something that words could alleviate; she could only face it herself.

Gradually, Jiang Ding strolled back home.

It was mealtime; cooking for the family, the Taiqing Flying Sword stir-frying, washing dishes, sweeping, and cleaning.

The Nascent Treasure-level Flying Sword worked quickly and nimble, also clean, not even a microscope could find any dirt, and the home was as spotless as new.

After the meal.

Lin Wanqiu and Jiang Yuan somehow fell into silence.

"Mom, do you know Mr. Hua Long?" Jiang Ding asked gently.

"I do."

Lin Wanqiu sighed, "Rongcheng City has only so many Foundation-building cultivators, how could I not know? Senior Hua was a very good person, taught me a lot about Foundation Building; it's just a pity that every one has their time, and it's inevitable..."

"Their time?"

"There's no such thing as 'their time' in this world."

Jiang Ding shook her head slightly, looking at her mother, "Mom, go to the Sleeping Hidden Realm, you still have ninety-seven of Life Energy left, and those below the Golden Pill stage in the Sleeping Hidden Realm can slow down the flow of time by a hundredfold, referencing the methods used by the Immortal Sects to preserve their Taoist disciples, you could live for a very long time."

"Nine thousand years later, if I am not dead, I will surely find a way for you to break through to the Golden Pill stage."

"If I die in battle, or fail to break through to a higher realm, the Central Array Spirit Computer will release you from the Sleeping Hidden Realm, and not much time will have been wasted."

"If that comes to pass, then live on with my hope."

Lin Wanqiu was stunned.

Nine thousand years, for a Foundation-building cultivator like her, was far too distant; the history of the Xianmen Sect was barely more than ten thousand years—such are the span of epochs.

"Okay."

Lin Wanqiu said thus.

No pleasantries, no shirking, no pretending to be benevolent to avoid burdening her son with troubles—all such empty words were absent.

"I wish that my son might achieve the Way."

"In nine thousand years, I hope to see my son, Heavenly Monarch Jiang, unrivaled within the Domains, and where your gaze falls, all Eight Great Immortal Sects submit, where your Divine Sense travels, all the lands belong to the Xianmen Sect, where citizens can safely tour the vast starry seas, free from the unceasing wars of today."

Lin Wanqiu sincerely wished.

"Hahahaha..."

Jiang Ding laughed heartily.

"Mom's wish is grand; I'll do my best to fulfill it."

Then, he turned his head towards Jiang Yuan.

"Sister, what are your thoughts?"

"To be honest, one more spot in the Sleeping Hidden Realm would not bother me; all you need to do is follow your heart."

As siblings, Jiang Ding respected her decision, no matter what.

"Brother."

"I hope to see you again in nine thousand years."

Jiang Yuan said immediately.

"It shall be so."

Jiang Ding said reassuringly, "Has Xiaoyun joined the army? I'll grant her an opportunity for Foundation Establishment. If her own efforts and talents are sufficient, she will have her day of Foundation Establishment. You don't need to worry."

"Mm, brother."