Chapter 959: Chapter 959

Bai Hao’s sudden wild idea startled Cinian so badly he nearly jumped. Seeing the old monk’s wide-eyed shock, Bai Hao threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

"Well? Cinian, you think my plan’s brilliant too, don’t you?" His voice dripped with smug satisfaction, as if the Bai family and Chu Yang were already set to exchange wedding vows by tomorrow.

Cinian snapped out of his daze, his weathered face contorting as he rolled his eyes so hard they threatened to vanish into his skull.

"Amitabha," he intoned dryly. "As a person, it’s best not to get carried away with fantasies."

Bai Hao’s laughter cut off abruptly, replaced by a scowl. He glared at Cinian, irritation flaring. "The Bai family’s a respected cultivation lineage—our strength isn’t weak, and my fifth child is exceptional. Matching her with Chu Yang is more than fitting! Cinian, watch your words—don’t go too far."

"It’s true enough," Cinian replied, shaking his head gently, his tone softening into earnest advice. "But I’ve spent time with Master Chu Yang and know his nature. He’s never been one to care much for romance or affection. You’d do well to drop this notion."

He didn’t want Bai Hao to propose only to face rejection—self-inflicted humiliation wasn’t worth it. Immortals lived long lives, and their memories were sharper than mortals’. A blunder could be mocked for centuries.

Bai Hao, however, brimmed with confidence in his family and his fifth child. Waving a dismissive hand, he said, "Don’t worry. It’s too perfect a match—Chu Yang won’t say no."

In his mind, it was a done deal. He could already picture Chu Yang, the moment he suggested it, rushing off to prepare a betrothal gift and formally ask for the Bai family’s daughter.

Splendid, splendid! He’d need to pick an auspicious date soon. A Bai family wedding demanded grandeur—there was much to arrange in advance.

Cinian watched Bai Hao’s resolve harden, the old man even chuckling to himself over some private delight. Unable to stomach it any longer, Cinian turned and left, seeking peace away from the delusional scheming.

The next day, Nanli had barely slept—finally drifting off near midnight—when the Spirit Pet Bag began jittering at dawn. Despite the heavy fog of exhaustion clouding her mind, she dragged herself up and released little babe.

Her movement stirred Siheng awake instantly. He sat up, tense with concern. "What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice edged with worry, fearing she might be unwell.

Nanli yawned, too tired to muster much energy. With someone handy nearby, she decided to delegate. "Feed it some pills. Don’t skimp—that’s its daily ration." She handed him the pill pouch, her hand lingering just long enough to ensure he took it.

Little babe promptly leaped into Siheng’s arms, its tail wagging eagerly. He opened the pouch, peering at the glistening pills inside, and frowned. "For one day?"

"Yep." Nanli flopped back onto the bed, adjusting herself awkwardly. Lying flat was uncomfortable now—she had to roll onto her side.

"And tomorrow’s?" Siheng pressed.

"Gotta refine more..." Her voice trailed off, slurring with sleep. "Mmm, I need a good rest today..."

Cinian’s words echoed in her mind—she was worn out. Pregnant, overburdened, and sleepless for days, she felt the weight of it all pressing down.

Siheng softened. "Leave it to me. Got a recipe?"

Nanli had been waiting for that. She tossed him a Qiankun Bag with a flick of her wrist. "Everything’s in there." With that, she sank back into slumber, her breathing evening out almost instantly.

Siheng turned his attention to little babe, feeding it first. The creature devoured nearly half the pouch in one go, and he finally understood why Nanli looked so drained this time. Glancing at the Qiankun Bag, he found it meticulously packed—recipe, herbs, Spirit Tree leaves—all prepared just for him. A wry smile tugged at his lips; she’d planned this handover all along.

Looking down at little babe, now slightly rounder from its meal, he murmured, "A’Li’s had it rough lately. From now on, I’ll handle your food."

The creature’s tail wagged vigorously in agreement. Siheng studied the recipe briefly before setting to work. His hands moved with practiced speed, refining a generous batch in under an hour.

Little babe, sated, refused to return to its bag. Instead, it clambered toward the bed, intent on snuggling beside Nanli. Siheng’s brow furrowed instinctively, but he relented—it was still a young orphan, after all. Grabbing a cloth, he wiped it down thoroughly, ensuring it was clean before letting it hop onto the mattress. Little babe took note of the ritual, filing it away as a rule of its new family.

Siheng had plenty left to do. Before leaving, he cast a protective spell over the house, shielding Nanli from disturbances. His first stop was the Spirit Tree. Once a vibrant symbol of his clan’s legacy, it now stood withered, its trunk bare and skeletal, every leaf long fallen.

Centuries ago, an ancestor of the Si family had ascended to immortality and chosen this spot for their immortal abode, planting the tree with their own immortal essence. When the age of immortals ended, most abodes sank or vanished, but the Si family held fast, founding a sect here. The Spirit Tree, born of that ancestor’s blood, remained—sparing Siheng the centuries it’d take to grow a new one.

He formed an immortal seal, his divine mark flickering faintly. A halo of celestial energy enveloped him, swirling into a gentle vortex. Beneath his feet, a silver array shimmered to life, beams of light piercing the sky.

Dawn broke perfectly—sunlight spilled across the land, and rainbow clouds drifted overhead. Thousands of radiant strands converged on Jialan Celestial Mountain, bathing it in a soft breeze and ethereal mist. The mountain pulsed with renewed life.

Early risers—disciples and onlookers—noticed the shift immediately. The densest immortal energy gathered at the Spirit Tree’s base, drawing them like moths to a flame. They arrived to find Siheng standing alone before the massive trunk, his posture erect, the intricate array beneath him casting a dazzling glow. Even in his dark, patterned robe, his transcendent aura was undeniable. A shaft of light from above crowned him—noble, ethereal. The crowd held its breath, awestruck.

Siheng’s divine mark flared brighter. He raised a hand, fingertips aglow with vibrant energy, and channeled it into the tree. Before their eyes, the parched trunk stirred. Fresh bark crept up its surface, tender buds sprouted on the branches, and soon, lush green leaves unfurled.

"What’s happening?!" Bai Hao’s eyes bulged. "Is Jifeng Celestial Sovereign sacrificing his own cultivation to revive the Spirit Tree?!" He could feel it—the spiritual energy was thick, almost intoxicating.

Cinian squinted. "Doesn’t look like it."

The others exchanged bewildered glances, at a loss. Yun Jianchu tilted her chin up with a huff. "Guess it’s up to me to explain—at critical moments , you need someone with real insight!"

Shandu, eager, leaned in. "Master Chuyun, if you know, please enlighten us!"

She brushed a lock of hair from her temple, cleared her throat, and opened her mouth—only for Crimson Nine Lands, now in human form, to cut in. "It’s just an immortal choosing their abode, so the Heavenly Dao granted a Spirit Tree to it," he said breezily, shooting Yun Jianchu a smug look. "You’re not the only one with knowledge around here."

Yun Jianchu gritted her teeth, her beauty undimmed even as she seethed. The disciples and Shi family alchemists, oblivious to the rivalry, stared at her, hearts racing, captivated by her fiery charm.