Chapter 951: Chapter 951

At this stage, little babe couldn’t yet be classified as a full-fledged spirit beast. It lacked the ability to form a contract with a human, so Nanli had no way of peering into its thoughts or understanding its desires directly.

Still, she didn’t need a mystical bond to see that it was upset. Its eyelids drooped listlessly, and its tiny tail hung limp, devoid of its usual playful vigor. The sight tugged at her heart.

Scooping the creature into her arms, she ran her fingers gently through its soft fur, murmuring, "Primordial Mythical Beasts are actually quite intelligent. With proper guidance, they can learn just about anything."

She reached into her pouch and produced a single medicinal pill, holding it up for little babe to see. "This is for you to eat," she said firmly, "but you can’t snatch it. Understand?"

Little babe gave its tail a small, tentative wag, then carefully took the pill and swallowed it. Nanli offered another, and it ate that one too—not rushed or greedy, but with a quiet patience. By now, it seemed to grasp the rule she’d set. It nuzzled her hand with its face, a wordless gesture that said it understood her instructions. Yet its eyes remained fixed on the pill pouch, wide and pleading. Clearly, it was still hungry—ravenously so—and those two pills hadn’t come close to satisfying it.

Nanli couldn’t help but wonder why. The last time she’d fed an ocean beast, two or three pills had been plenty to fill its belly. But little babe was so small—barely a fraction of that creature’s size.

How could it still be hungry? Curiosity piqued, she decided to test its limits. She upended the pouch, pouring all the remaining pills into her palm—a modest pile of gleaming orbs. But little babe didn’t lunge for them. It had learned her rule: eat only when permitted. Instead, it sat there, staring at her with those big, hopeful eyes, waiting for her approval.

A smile spread across Nanli’s face. This little thing was smart—adorably so—and its obedience warmed her heart. "Go ahead, eat," she said softly.

With her permission granted, little babe sprang into action. In a flash, it leaped forward and—snap!—devoured the entire handful in a single bite. Ten or more pills vanished down its throat, chewed and swallowed with a loud gulp.

Nanli stared, dumbfounded. Her first thought was absurd yet undeniable: Those pills combined are bigger than its head. How did it fit them all in one mouthful?!

Even more astonishing, it didn’t so much as burp. Its gaze snapped back to the now-empty pouch, expectant and unrelenting.

"..." Nanli was speechless.

Shandu, standing nearby with his hands tucked into his sleeves, offered a cautious observation. "Master Nanli, it seems it’s still hungry."

She knew that, of course. But the problem was, those pills—painstakingly refined over hours of effort—were all gone!

A sudden, sinking realization hit her: raising a spirit pet might not be as simple as she’d thought. This tiny creature could very well eat her into poverty!

Desperate to avoid that fate, she forced a stiff smile and leaned down to little babe. "Come on now," she said, her tone half-joking, half-pleading. "Tell me you’re not hungry. Tell me you’re full."

Grrrrrr—a loud, unmistakable growl rumbled from little babe’s stomach, betraying her words.

Shandu piped up again, ever helpful. "It looks pretty hungry to me."

"No, it’s not hungry," Nanli insisted, clinging to denial.

Little babe, sensing her resistance, grew frantic. It opened its mouth and, in a clumsy, halting voice, forced out its first words: "Mama, I hungwy!"

The pronunciation was off, a babyish garble, but clear enough. Nanli’s brows furrowed—she almost thought she’d misheard. Before she could respond, it tried again, louder and more precise: "Mama, I’m so hungry!"

This time, the words rang out perfectly. Nanli’s eyes widened in astonishment. "You picked up human speech that fast?!"

"I’m hungry!" Little babe repeated, sticking to its one-track plea.

Nanli sighed, a wry smile tugging at her lips. She’d adopted a glutton, it seemed. But what could she do? It was calling her "Mama" now—how could she let it go hungry after that?

"Alright, hold on," she said, resigned. "I’ll refine a few more for you." She still had some leftover herbs, though her supply of spirit stones was depleted. Turning to Shandu, she borrowed his without hesitation.

He waved a hand dismissively. "These came from the Chu family’s Spirit Mine anyway. Use as much as you need, Master Nanli."

"Thanks," she replied, not standing on ceremony. She restored a bit of her spiritual energy, then summoned her Divine Lotus Tripod to begin refining. Her cultivation had recently advanced, so the pills she crafted now brimmed with richer spiritual essence.

Alchemy was second nature to her, but her swollen belly slowed her movements, forcing her to adjust her usual rhythm. Initially, she planned to make just a dozen or so to tide little babe over. But then it hit her: as her pregnancy progressed, refining would only get harder.

Seizing the moment, she powered through several batches, producing over a hundred pills in total. By the end, not only Shandu’s spirit stones but every last one from the others had been exhausted.

And yet—after little babe wolfed down another dozen in one gulp—it cried out again: "Mama, I’m hungry!"

"..." Nanli’s eyebrow twitched. She took two deep breaths to steady herself. "That’s enough for today," she declared firmly.

Little babe paused, processing her words. Slowly, it realized this was the day’s ration—there’d be no more. It stared at her, its gaze unwavering, as if sheer persistence might conjure up extras.

"You can’t eat too much at once," Nanli explained, softening her tone. "You’re so small—too much spiritual energy might overwhelm you."

Little babe kept staring.

Shandu scratched his bald head, puzzled. "This little thing is bizarre. These pills are packed with spiritual energy—how can it eat so much and still not be full?"

Nanli shared his confusion. Worried that its young body might not handle cultivation properly, she doubled down. "That’s it for today. More tomorrow." She feared overfeeding could rupture its Dantian—a risk she wouldn’t take, even if she could refine more.

Her repeated refusals finally sank in. Little babe’s ears drooped, and it stopped begging. With a dejected air, it shuffled to a corner, flopped down, and began to weep silently.

Tears welled up, spilling over in a steady stream.

Hungry. So hungry. My new mama isn’t kind to me... it seemed to lament.

Then the silent tears turned into full-on wailing, a flood of sorrow that soaked the floor beneath it.

Shandu jumped, startled by the outburst. He shot a quick glance at Siheng, still deep in his meditative healing trance, and sighed in relief. The Celestial Sovereign remained undisturbed—little babe’s cries couldn’t pierce his focus.

Nanli hurried over and scooped the creature into her arms again. "Why are you crying so pitifully?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Little babe couldn’t manage complex replies. It didn’t resist her touch, though, resting its head on her arm as tears continued to flow. The sobbing subsided, but the sadness lingered. Was it really that hungry?

Frowning, Nanli extended her spiritual energy to probe its Dantian and body. Her expression shifted—first to surprise, then to guilt. "I see," she murmured, stroking its head. "I’m sorry. I didn’t realize."

She fetched a large bowl and poured every last pill into it. "Eat," she said warmly.

Little babe froze, staring at her in disbelief, as if asking, Really? All for me?

Nanli’s smile was radiant, maternal. "It’s yours. Eat as much as you want."

Reassured, little babe waddled over and dug in with glee. Even with its one-bite prowess, a hundred pills took time to polish off. Shandu watched, bewildered. "Master Nanli, why the change of heart?"

"It was born deficient," she explained. "I healed it, but that wasn’t enough. It needs extra nourishment to thrive. Plus, it inherited its mother’s Power of Chaos—that demands massive spiritual energy to refine and sustain. Without it, what little chaos power it absorbed would dissipate."

Shandu nodded vaguely, the finer points lost on him. But as they spoke, little babe finished the bowl—and, miracle of miracles, let out a satisfied burp. Nanli wiped the sweat from her brow, exhausted but relieved. "Thank goodness."

Shandu exhaled too, grinning. "Great! It’s finally full for the night!"

Nanli’s body stiffened at his words. For the night? Oh no. It was full tonight—but what about tomorrow? No, no, she couldn’t think like that.

The real question was: How many meals does it need a day? How much per meal?!