The Thousand-Year-Old Iron Tree Never Blossoms

Eight hundred years ago, the cultivation realm was dominated by a strong sense of masculinity. Whenever there was danger or a powerful enemy, it was the male cultivators who would face them head-on.

During the great calamity in the mortal world, the strongest male cultivators in various cultivation sects were decimated, with barely one in ten surviving. Cultivators at the peak of their power, whether male or female, were nearly all killed or severely injured, and the losses among the middle and lower ranks were innumerable.

At the far western edge of the continent, beyond the Sea of Forgetfulness, lies an unnamed giant island. Within this island, there is a cultivation sect known as the Saint Water Palace, named after the mysterious ‘Soul-Stealing Cold Pond’ at its center.

The Saint Water Palace, located in a remote area, suffered the loss of its top-tier forces during the great calamity, but its middle and lower-ranking disciples were relatively unscathed, making it the least affected sect.

Luo Bingyan, the chief disciple of the Saint Water Palace, escaped the calamity with injuries and, after recuperating, was elected as the new palace master.

Today, the Saint Water Palace has become the strongest sect in the cultivation realm. Countless ordinary people, believing themselves to have a destiny with the immortals, set sail to the island to pay their respects.

Rumors also circulate that Palace Master Luo Bingyan attained the peak of cultivation shortly after the calamity, becoming a great cultivator. Born with a pure water spirit root, and having lived near the Soul-Stealing Cold Pond for so long, her power is now unfathomable. No one from the human, demon, or beast races dares to challenge her, yet for some unknown reason, she has not ascended to the immortal realm.

Inside the island, by the cold pond.

There stands a small bamboo house, containing only a bed, a few stools, and a dressing table.

Inside the house, a young woman, appearing to be in her late teens, wears a simple white robe with minimal ornamentation. Her long, black hair cascades down her slender waist, and she wears a jade hairpin on her right ear, with a delicate, translucent crystal earring hidden among her locks. Her entire demeanor is one of pure simplicity.

Her skin is rosy, and her thin, cherry-colored lips are slightly parted, giving her a look of delicate allure. Her smile, though subtle, is perfectly captivating.

What a stunning beauty she is!

At this moment, the woman is chasing a small girl inside the house. The girl seems to be only six or seven years old, dressed in a miniature pink palace gown with an oversized butterfly bow tied at the back, almost as tall as the girl herself.

The girl’s skin is incredibly fair, almost pinkish, which contrasts with her clothing, but it does nothing to diminish her adorable appearance.

Yet, the girl’s expression is unusually serious. One side of her hair is styled into a flower-like bun, while the other side is loose, resembling a black tail.

‘Come, Miaomiao,’ the woman calls out with a smile, ‘try on this new dress I made for you. It has lace trim!’

‘Don’t touch me!’ the girl named Miaomiao replies coldly, her voice devoid of any emotion, much to the pity of her melodious tone.

‘Don’t be like that,’ the woman persists, ‘look, your hair on this side is still unkempt. It’s so long and touching the ground, it’ll get dirty!’

The woman tries to catch Miaomiao’s long hair, but each time, Miaomiao suddenly vanishes and reappears at the other end of the room.

After another sudden movement, Miaomiao’s thin eyebrows furrow slightly. Unable to hold back any longer, she speaks up: ‘Palace Master, please control yourself!’

‘Control myself? Ha ha ha!’ the woman laughs, a chilling sound that would make anyone shudder. ‘Today, you will not escape my grasp, no matter what!’

Indeed, as the palace master had said, she never ceased her pursuit of Miaomiao, forcing one to marvel at the endurance of a peak cultivator.

Over the past few days, Palace Master Luo has been tirelessly creating various outfits.

At first, Miaomiao thought these clothes were for the palace master herself. Cultivation can be monotonous, and finding a hobby to calm the mind is beneficial. However, she never imagined that the woman was simply indulging in a dress-up game…

Miaomiao, who was being chased by the palace master, understood clearly that if she gave in today, the palace master would surely find more ways to torment her in the future.

She must not let this shameless woman succeed! Miaomiao resolved herself.

Though the bamboo house is small, the two of them moved about without stirring a single breeze or disturbing any of the furniture.

The palace master, engrossed in her game, suddenly notices Miaomiao stop. Her heart races with excitement as she sees the little girl drawing closer.

Her gaze is fixed on Miaomiao’s chest, which is even more impressive than her own. Her own flawless features seem to twist with anticipation.

Just as the palace master’s hand is about to reach its target, her spiritual sense is suddenly disturbed by an unknown force, causing a ripple in her sea of consciousness. Although small, this force makes her mind tremble involuntarily.

It has been eight hundred years since such a force has appeared in the mortal realm.

The palace master stands motionless before Miaomiao, lost in thought. Suddenly, a small hand pushes her arm aside.

‘Sword energy!’ Miaomiao’s eyebrows draw even closer together.

The palace master spreads her spiritual sense and indeed feels a sharp, golden aura, but without a trace of killing intent. Instead, it seems to be protecting something, and within this sword energy, something is clearly enveloped.

‘This sword energy is far superior to yours…’ Miaomiao does not continue, after all, they have been together for nearly a thousand years, and some face must be maintained.

But in truth, both of them know that this sword energy surpasses even those in the immortal realm.

The palace master expands her spiritual sense, trying to discern more. The spiritual sense of a peak cultivator, even when used for mere detection, causes the entire Saint Water Palace to tremble.

‘This is the palace master’s spiritual sense! The palace master has emerged from seclusion!’

The news spreads, and countless disciples prostrate themselves toward the island’s center.

‘Perhaps a great treasure is about to appear. I can feel those old crones are already on the move!’

The palace master retracts her spiritual sense and stares intently at Miaomiao.

Miaomiao feigns ignorance, saying, ‘I’ll go take a look. You stay here.’

Before the palace master can object, Miaomiao darts off into the clouds.

‘I can’t believe she just left me behind. Heartless! Tonight, I’ll pin you down and study those mountains of yours!’ The palace master mimics a grasping motion, her features turning repulsive.

Miaomiao has already fled, leaving the palace master no choice but to form a hand seal, causing her clothes to flutter without a breeze. In an instant, she soars into the sky, her aura formidable.

The disciples, witnessing their palace master’s departure, bow deeply and chant, ‘Farewell, Palace Master!’