Mu Nanxiao lay unclothed, a thin blanket draped over him to conceal his exposed form, his long white hair spread in disarray across the bed, the ends being idly twirled by another’s hand.
His fair skin was tinged with a faint flush, his watery eyes still hazy with lingering passion, rippling softly.
Beneath the blanket, an arm was wrapped around his waist, skin pressed against skin, radiating waves of heat.
Bai Shen cultivated a fire-attribute Cultivation Method, so his body temperature ran naturally higher than most. With nothing between them, every point of contact drew Mu Nanxiao’s full attention to that spot.
It took Mu Nanxiao a long while to recover from the tide of passion before he finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “Are you leaving?”
Bai Shen chuckled low, sitting up as the blanket slid from his body. He stroked Mu Nanxiao’s white hair, deftly twisted it into a bun, and pinned it with a hairpin carved of red jade, then leaned in to press a kiss to the pin.
“Does Nanxiao begrudge me leaving? The Immortal-Demon Assembly draws near, and I must return to keep order—there are always petty scoundrels who take advantage of this time to run wild. Once we part, I fear it will be a month before we meet again. In the meantime… I must ask Nanxiao to take good care of yourself—and of him.”
Bai Shen’s hand came to rest on Mu Nanxiao’s lower belly, caressing it gently. Mu Nanxiao’s body stiffened for a moment at the touch before quickly relaxing, his voice carrying a trace of awkwardness. “The Immortal-Demon Assembly is a grand event. It is only natural that you should be busy.”
As for Bai Shen’s latter words, he said nothing.
The two had been Cultivation Partners for several thousand years, and Bai Shen had learned from ancient texts that two men could indeed conceive a child together.
They had spent a hundred years searching for the fruit born of the most yin and most yang places in the world, all for the spiritual fetus now within his belly.
If that spiritual fruit was treated with a special method, infused with the essence of the two of them, and nourished with Spiritual Power, it could transform into a spiritual fetus.
Thus even two men could have an heir.
Now that spiritual fetus lay within Mu Nanxiao’s womb.
As for that special method…
At the mere thought of it, Mu Nanxiao felt his waist ache faintly.
Bai Shen’s movements were gentle. Through his palm, he slowly channeled Spiritual Power into Mu Nanxiao, massaging in slow circles to ease his discomfort.
As the soreness in his waist gradually faded, Mu Nanxiao closed his eyes in comfort.
A cultivator of his Cultivation Base had long since achieved Bigu fasting, fearing neither cold nor heat; even a month without sleep would be nothing. They had long since severed all ties with the mortal world.
“I had no idea Nanxiao’s heart was so full of righteousness. Even now, in such an intimate moment, you care more for that so-called Immortal-Demon Assembly than for our spiritual fetus…” Bai Shen’s voice carried a note of dejection, his brow knitting slightly. Only after a long while did his expression ease, warmth returning to those crimson eyes. “Fine. Once this grand event is over, I swear I will not leave your side for a single step.”
“Rest well. You are no longer alone now—do not go falling or bumping into anything.” Bai Shen repeated his instructions patiently as he dressed.
His dark robes bore totems embroidered in hidden thread: a three-legged ding, a flower bearing up the vessel, two swords thrust into it. The waistband cinched tight around his lean waist, tracing its curves.
Bai Shen’s ink-black hair was bound high, his crimson eyes bewitchingly vivid, his thin lips a natural vermilion without any rouge. His figure was supple, and every gesture carried an air of allure.
His beauty was exceptional, and owing to his special constitution, even his very bones exuded seduction—so much so that Mu Nanxiao often found himself unable to look away.
“I must be going now. Rest well, Nanxiao. If you miss me terribly, be sure to send word to me. Hearing Nanxiao’s voice is the only thing that can ease this longing, if only for a moment.”
Bai Shen’s voice was gentle. He pressed another kiss to Mu Nanxiao’s forehead before finally taking his leave.
Even after being bound as Cultivation Partners for so many years, having shared countless intimacies, whenever Bai Shen did something like this, Mu Nanxiao would still feel his cheeks burning, his gaze even wanting to dart away and avoid.
He had once sought out storybooks in the mortal world, and they called this feeling shyness. Mu Nanxiao had remembered that.
When Bai Shen did these things to him, he felt shy.
After Bai Shen left, Mu Nanxiao sat on the bed, his hand gently resting on his lower abdomen.
Inside him, there truly was a child of his and Bai Shen’s?
Even after searching for that spiritual fruit for a hundred years, he still found it hard to believe such a thing could be real.
But undeniably, he was happy. That sweet, brimming feeling in his heart, as if something were about to burst forth—that was called joy and anticipation, an emotion that made him long to share it with someone.
The Formation outside was triggered. Sensing the aura of a spiritual child, Mu Nanxiao found a robe to drape over himself, fastening it carefully.
The red outer robe made his skin look even fairer. His face now carried a healthy flush, and his cold brows and eyes had softened, lending him an air of approachability.
“Venerable One, when the Demon Venerable departed, he instructed us to take good care of you. What are your commands?” The spiritual child stood before the palace hall, not stepping a single foot inside, and spoke respectfully.
Mu Nanxiao sent a voice transmission: “Nothing… prepare some rice porridge.”
Halfway through speaking, he suddenly changed his mind.
He himself was fine, but what about the spiritual fetus in his belly?
He had heard that pregnancy in the mortal world was extremely arduous—the process from conception to birth was no less than a trip through the gates of hell, and during that time, the fetus required enormous amounts of energy.
Mu Nanxiao didn’t know whether his own Spiritual Power could sustain the spiritual fetus, but seeing how others always consumed many heavenly treasures during pregnancy to replenish their energy, it wasn’t hard to guess that this would be a difficult process.
After a moment’s thought, Mu Nanxiao made this request—modest, yet utterly absurd.
The spiritual child stood at the palace entrance. Hearing the Immortal Venerable’s voice transmission, his eyes blinked, his mind still too stunned to process it, and he asked again: “Did the Immortal Venerable say… rice porridge?”
Mu Nanxiao: “Can it not be done?”
The spiritual child hastily protested that it could: “Whatever the Immortal Venerable commands—never mind something as simple as rice porridge, we could even retrieve the pearl from the secret realm for you.”
With that, the spiritual child hurried away to prepare the rice porridge Mu Nanxiao had not tasted in so long.
The immortal child prepared the porridge, but unable to fathom the Immortal Venerable’s thoughts, he consulted with his colleagues. None of them believed the Immortal Venerable wished to try mortal rice porridge, so together they made porridge from Cold Crow Rice, rich with dense Spiritual Power, and delivered it to Mu Nanxiao.
The porridge was cooked soft and tender. What rose from the jade bowl was not steam but cold air, its delicate fragrance wrapped in dense Spiritual Power—a supreme tonic.
As he was drinking the porridge, Bai Shen’s Spiritual Power broke through the Formation, carrying a message from him:
“Some time ago, someone presented This Venerable One with a piece of exceptionally fine warming jade. The moment I laid eyes on it, I knew it suited Nanxiao, so I had it made into a hairpin. Nanxiao must wear it well.”
His fingers brushed the jade hairpin in his topknot, and a warmth spread from his fingertips into his heart—much like how, whenever Bai Shen held him and murmured sweet nothings, that slightly higher body temperature of his would seep through the fabric of their clothes.
Bai Shen had told him to wear it well. Did that mean he was supposed to use this hairpin at the Immortal-Demon Assembly?
Mu Nanxiao pondered for a while, then sent a message to Bai Shen: “Message received. May you be well.”
The Demon Realm was different from the Immortal Realm—the period before the Immortal-Demon Assembly was a time of turmoil, and Bai Shen would be busy this month.
Mu Nanxiao had no intention of disturbing him. Though he now carried their child within him, he could care for it on his own. He was the Immortal Venerable, his Cultivation Base above that of millions—surely he could manage even this small matter?
He found time to visit the mortal world and bought a stack of romance storybooks, studying them carefully in his sleeping palace, growing ever more invested in the matter.
Mu Nanxiao had little sense of time, though he frequently ordered the spiritual children to prepare food. This made the spiritual children on the mountain quite curious, but they dared not speculate recklessly on the Immortal Venerable’s orders, so they sought out the finest ingredients, prepared exquisite dishes, and delivered them to his sleeping palace.
A month passed in the blink of an eye. Mu Nanxiao, already one who disliked talking, grew even more silent and withdrawn during this time. Many spiritual children saw the Immortal Venerable often sitting on the swing in the palace courtyard, dressed in a vivid red robe, his hand resting on his lower abdomen, lost in thought.
He didn’t even notice when the spiritual children approached the palace—it was only when they triggered the Formation outside that the Immortal Venerable finally came back to himself.
Mu Nanxiao had not told anyone about the spiritual fetus in his belly. This was a matter between him and Bai Shen, and naturally there was no need to draw others’ attention.
The Immortal Venerable had been in a bad mood these days. He wanted to grab his sword and charge into a secret realm for a good venting session, and he wanted to storm into the Demon Abyss and drag that person—who had sent no word for a whole month—down from the high platform for a sparring match.
Bai Shen had not replied to his messages for a month.
For the first two days after that day, they still exchanged messages, pouring out their hearts to each other—naturally, most of the messages came from Bai Shen, while Mu Nanxiao only replied with words like “All is well. Stay safe.”
But on the third day, he received no message from Bai Shen.
At first he assumed the Demon Abyss was too chaotic and Bai Shen too busy to spare a moment, but after several days without hearing Bai Shen’s voice, Mu Nanxiao took the initiative to send a message.
His message sank like a stone into the sea, stirring not a single ripple.
Bai Shen did not reply, and had even rearranged the palace’s Formation, blocking Mu Nanxiao’s Spiritual Power from the outside.
Mu Nanxiao had wanted to go to the Demon Abyss himself, but with the Immortal-Demon Assembly approaching, messages of inquiry poured in from numerous sects, tying down his footsteps.
And so, a full month passed without the two of them speaking a word or seeing each other.
The Immortal-Demon Canyon was surrounded by mountains on all sides. To participate in the Immortal-Demon Assembly, one had to cross these four great mountains and defeat the powerful spiritual beasts within them before joining this grand feast. Those with deep enough Cultivation Bases to achieve Void Flight were naturally spared the bitter battle through the mountains.
Before dawn, countless powerhouses tore through the air and landed at the canyon, while others descended from the mountains, their bodies steeped in the stench of blood and killing intent.
Mu Nanxiao sat on a soft couch at a high vantage point, watching everything below.
No powerhouse flying through the air dared to rise above his height.
His gaze wandered idly, but his Divine Sense swept far outward, a thousand li away.
When Bai Shen appeared, he would give him a proper lesson.
So thought Mu Nanxiao, as his Divine Sense caught a familiar aura rushing rapidly toward him.
At the same time, the immortal child’s voice sounded beside his ear: “Venerable, the powerful Demonic Cultivators have arrived.”
Turbid clouds condensed in the sky, concealing a great deal of dense Spiritual Power. The man leading them wore the attire of the Hehuan Sect’s Sect Master—a set of red robes like a wedding garment, the hem embroidered with the Hehuan Sect’s totem: a flower, a cauldron, and a pair of swords.
Mu Nanxiao still remembered what Bai Shen had once told him the pattern meant.
The flower signified that the Hehuan Sect’s disciples were as beautiful as flowers, and that their outward beauty could also become a means of attack.
The cauldron represented that the Hehuan Sect’s Cultivation Method was originally related to the dual cultivation technique. During cultivation, one needed to supplement yang energy; if there was insufficient yang energy, one would suffer burning agony day and night. After Bai Shen improved the Cultivation Method, it no longer required so much yang energy, and the burning agony within the body was greatly alleviated. Thus, after finding a Cultivation Partner, disciples would no longer lose control of themselves due to needing large amounts of yang energy. The cauldron also signified that the sect’s disciples advanced in Cultivation Base extremely quickly.
The two swords carried quite a bit of Bai Shen’s personal bias—one was Mu Nanxiao’s sword, and the other was Bai Shen’s own. After all, he had even managed to seduce an Immortal Venerable of the Immortal Realm into becoming his Cultivation Partner, which gave his disciples quite a boost of morale.
Mu Nanxiao sensed a feeling of unfamiliarity from the man leading them.
Those eyes that always carried a gentle smile had turned violent and savage, and his slightly upturned lips now showed an air of unrestraint.
This was the Bai Shen he knew, and yet not the Bai Shen he knew.