Chereads / Cultivating The Normal Way / Chapter 2 - Ch: 2

Chapter 2 - Ch: 2

My attempts to politely suggest that they might consider lowering their collective volume were met with bewildered stares and even more inflated proclamations of their divine importance. My suggestion to think about the possibility that other people might be trying to cultivate peace seemed utterly lost in translation. My peaceful cultivation retreat was starting to feel more like a reality show about overly enthusiastic immortals—and I was stuck as the unwilling star.

As I watched them argue, I tried to assess the situation. Were they genuinely reincarnated immortals, or were a group of exceptionally talented charlatans possibly trying to scam me? Either possibility was equally daunting. The prospect of dealing with actual, albeit slightly unhinged, immortals seemed far less appealing than dealing with con artists. This was my life now, I supposed.

Then, the first explosion happened. Mind you, it wasn't a large explosion—more of a "minor inconvenience" explosion. A small puff of smoke erupted from near the beard-clad immortal, who was attempting to demonstrate his mastery of the "Seven Heavens Thunderbolt" technique. The result, however, was less "thunderbolt" and more "slightly singed eyebrow." He still managed to declare this a success, of course. Some startled dragonflies launched into my teacup due to the minor explosion, leading to mildly caffeinated dragonflies. It seemed that even the insects weren't safe from their antics.

The afternoon progressed similarly. There were near misses with accidental teleportation (one almost ended up inside a particularly grumpy badger's burrow), attempts to summon celestial fire that resulted in a small, oddly shaped bonfire, and a near-catastrophic incident involving a misplaced, enchanted teapot that briefly transformed my herb garden into a field of giant, hallucinogenic sunflowers. My attempts to maintain any semblance of normalcy quickly dissolved into a chaotic and comical free-for-all. My meticulously planned cultivation schedule was in tatters.

Just as I contemplated the merits of building an impenetrable fortress around my hut, a powerful aura descended upon the area. It wasn't the chaotic energy of the bumbling immortals; this was something more substantial—far more menacing.

The self-proclaimed immortals fell silent, their usual boisterous energy replaced by a palpable tension. Their dramatic entrances and exits now seemed far too childish for the seriousness of this newcomer. This was more significant than a mere fashion disaster. I braced myself; my typical day, it seemed, was about to become significantly less ordinary. And I had a sneaking suspicion it would also become significantly more dangerous. The real fun was beginning.

The newcomer, a wisp of a girl no older than sixteen, materialized amidst a shimmering haze of purple light. She landed gracefully, starkly contrasting the rather undignified arrivals of the other "immortals." She wore flowing robes the color of twilight, intricately embroidered with constellations that appeared to shift and shimmer before my eyes. Even the self-proclaimed Celestial Emperor, usually the picture of swagger, seemed momentarily awestruck.

A heavy, expectant silence descended upon the little clearing. Then, the Celestial Emperor—let's call him "Emperor Cai" for lack of a better term and to avoid the incessant correction requests from the others—cleared his throat loudly. The sound shattered the fragile peace like a poorly thrown jade vase. "Well," he began, his voice regaining its usual booming resonance, "this certainly changes things."

"Changes things?" scoffed a woman with fiery red hair, who had introduced herself as the Phoenix Empress. "More like throwing our meticulously planned destinies into utter chaos!"

Emperor Cai bristled. "My destiny is far more significant than yours, Empress. The prophecies indicate—"

"Prophecies are open to interpretation," interrupted a man with a preternaturally long beard who identified himself as the Sage of the Whispering Pines. He delicately adjusted his beard, a gesture conveying immense wisdom and an almost comical level of vanity. "My understanding of the ancient texts suggests a different outcome altogether."

The argument escalated rapidly. The Phoenix Empress accused the Sage of cherry-picking passages to suit his ego. The Sage retorted that the Empress's interpretation was hopelessly simplistic and emotionally driven. 

A previously unnoticed young girl, who introduced herself as the Celestial Weaver, calmly interjected, explaining her vision of the prophecy. It involved an entirely different set of heroes and villains and an alarmingly high number of sentient garden gnomes. It also included a mystical tea ceremony, and a battle fought solely with embroidered handkerchiefs. The whole notion was frankly bizarre.

The self-proclaimed God of Thunder, who had remained relatively quiet until then—possibly because he was busy practicing his dramatic poses in a nearby puddle—grumbled something about the flawed prophecies and completely ignored the importance of lightning-based attacks. He then demonstrated a miniature lightning bolt, which unfortunately fried a particularly healthy-looking ginseng plant from my carefully cultivated herb garden. I internally groaned. My ginseng!

"Enough!" I shouted, my voice surprisingly strong, cutting through the chaos. The bickering immortals fell silent, their eyes widening in mild surprise. They weren't used to being interrupted, especially not by someone as unremarkable as me. It's always the quiet ones...

"With all due respect," I continued, carefully choosing my words, "your interpretations of these prophecies seem... conflicting, to say the least. Instead of squabbling like children over who gets the best role in this cosmic play, perhaps we should consider the possibility that these prophecies are… metaphorical?"

The immortals exchanged bewildered glances. The concept of metaphor seemed lost on them. The Celestial Emperor sputtered, "Metaphorical? But the prophecies are quite literally... prophecies!"

The Phoenix Empress narrowed her eyes. "Are you suggesting we're not destined for greatness?"

The Sage stroked his beard thoughtfully, and for a brief moment, I thought he might consider my suggestion. Then, he declared, "No! My interpretation remains the most accurate, making me the chosen one!"

The God of Thunder grumbled about the injustice of it all, the lack of adequate appreciation for the incredible power of lightning, and the sad state of his hair after the miniature lightning strike. He then attempted to summon a larger bolt, which I only narrowly averted by the sudden and unexpected arrival of a group of very confused-looking monkeys. This is a typical day in the world of Xianxia cultivation.