NOVPUB1148: Clouded view (2)
1148: Clouded view (2)
Cultivation, in its simplest sense, was a holistic transformation and evolution of the body and soul.
So even when one was crippled and lost their cultivation base, they didn’t lose everything.
Some fruits of their cultivation still remained—such as the transformations to their bodies—advantages that could be passed down through their bloodline.
This was why cultivating clans placed the highest value on bloodlines.
A strong bloodline could sustain a clan’s prosperity for generations to come.
It was also why clans rarely evicted members who became crippled.
As long as your bloodline was decent, you still had a purpose—you could sire more descendants to strengthen the clan.
This didn’t just apply to those with crippled cultivation bases, but also to those nearing the end of their lifespans with no hope of further advancement.
Whereas sect cultivators in such situations might focus on leaving behind a legacy—by taking a personal disciple or undertaking dangerous tasks to secure resources for the sect—clan cultivators would instead devote their remaining time to improving or expanding their bloodline.
The Xia Clan’s founder may have adopted this mindset, sending his descendants to enroll in the Silver Crane Sect as a way to repay the debt he owed them.
When he was crippled, he had only been a disciple himself—far from the level where he could take on disciples of his own or contribute in other meaningful ways.
At that stage, the most valuable thing he had left was his body—and by extension, his bloodline.
As someone raised within a clan system who understood its workings, this was the root of Xia Fang’s distorted perspective and misplaced anger toward the Silver Crane Sect.
In her mind at the time, she believed the sect owed them for the many Xia Clan descendants they had sent their way—completely disregarding all that the sect had already done for them.
She forgot the blue-grade cultivation art they had been gifted, the resources their founder had used to establish and expand the clan, and even the sect’s name, which had likely served as a protective halo during their early years.
Without that name, a clan founded by a cripple would have stood no chance of taking root and growing in such a volatile continent.
The Silver Crane Sect’s reputation had likely shielded them in those fragile beginnings, providing the cover they needed to survive.
Yet, in her frenzied state, Xia Fang had ignored all of it.
All she saw was her clan sending its talents to an outside organization that showed no gratitude.
In her desperation, her thinking became twisted—she convinced herself that the members they had continuously supplied to the sect had already more than repaid their debt.
In her mind, it was now the sect that owed them, for taking talents that could have been used to strengthen the Xia Clan instead.
If those resources had remained within the clan, perhaps they could have avoided the calamity that ultimately plunged them into where they were now.
Through that twisted logic, she even began to believe that the foundation the Silver Crane Sect had built over the years was, in some part, thanks to her clan members who had joined them.
After all, due to a rule set by their founder—likely influenced by the prestige of the Silver Crane Sect—every twenty years, the Xia Clan was required to send their most gifted member to the sect.
A strict threshold and test had been established to determine who qualified, ensuring only the most exceptional were chosen.
If no one met the standard when the time came, then no one would be sent until someone did.
Xia Fang had taken that test herself and knew firsthand how demanding it was.
No matter how outstanding her talent was—enough to be ranked among the top ten Xia Clan members born in the past five hundred years—she still fell short of the standard set by their ancestor for those deemed worthy of entering the Silver Crane Sect.
For the past fifty thousand years since the clan’s founding and the start of this tradition, fewer than a hundred members had ever met the criteria.
That alone spoke to how stringent the requirements were.
And because they were so strict, those who did qualify were bound to be monsters in Xia Fang’s eyes—monsters the clan could have kept for themselves but had instead handed over to the Silver Crane Sect.
Where would they be now if they had retained those talents instead of offering them to an outsider?
Instead, they had dressed their neighbor in refined,regal warm clothing to shield them from the winter, while they themselves shivered in tattered, threadbare robes, left vulnerable to the elements.
She hated the Silver Crane Sect for it, believing that much of what they had achieved—and would continue to achieve—was largely due to the Xia clan members they had taken in.
She conveniently forgot that the sect had one of the longest histories on the continent and a foundation so rich that they never lacked for talent.
As gifted as those Xia clan members might have been, their brilliance was only exceptional by the standards of the Xia clan, not the Silver Crane Sect itself.
And as for repaying favors owed, the sect had already done more than enough by giving the Xia clan a place to start.
Without that initial support, the Xia clan would never have survived long enough to matter.
If it weren’t for their association with the sect, the tragedy eleven thousand years ago likely wouldn’t have stopped at just the palace realm experts.
It was only much later—after falling deeper into the pits of despair, experiencing unimaginable loss, and enduring more than she thought she could—that her eyes were finally forced open.
Through all that suffering, clarity came in ways it never had before, especially when it came to the misguided targets of her anger and blame.
The Silver Crane Sect was not their babysitter, responsible for cleaning up their messes just because of some shared history—especially when the Xia clan had chosen to hoard the celestial light hawthorn for themselves, never offering the sect a share.
In the end, it was only after her grandfather and others within the clan sacrificed themselves that she truly understood. 𝑛𝘰𝘷𝑝𝘶𝑏.𝑐𝘰𝘮
The only reason they hadn’t been uprooted completely back then was likely because of the very sect she had so bitterly labeled as cold-hearted and thankless.
No matter how distant the relationship between them, the connection still existed.
Because of that, both the rogue cultivator’s son and the Cyan Crescent Kingdom behind him had to give the Silver Crane Sect some face when it came to the clan.
But in return, the Silver Crane Sect also had to extend the same courtesy.
That delicate balance likely explained why the sect had grown colder toward the Xia clan since the incident—a coldness that was only bound to deepen with the rumors circulating about the Cyan Crescent Kingdom being on the verge of producing their third soul formation expert.
If that rumor proved true, they were likely to sever any and all existing ties with them.
As rich as its history was, the Silver Crane Sect didn’t have a soul formation expert, meaning they would have to think twice before interfering in any affairs involving one even indirect ones.
That looming threat was, in part, one of the reasons her grandfather and the other senior figures of the clan decided to act and sacrifice themselves.
The last layer of protection keeping the treacherous clans at bay was all but gone with those rumors.
Her clan knew it, and those three clans most definitely did too.
CREATORS’ THOUGHTS
Daynightdreamer
chapters have been edited to chapter 61 for those interested in giving it
a re-read.
