Chapter 2060: Ten Months of Pregnancy

Night had not yet fallen, but Ye Chen had already started packing up his stall, half an hour earlier than usual. He was afraid Yang Ge Lao might show up again and ask him to examine Xia Lan. It wasn't that he didn't want to do it, but because he had seen through the situation too clearly and was truly powerless. He always felt he was letting down Old Yang's hopeful eyes. Indeed, he was avoiding it—even someone as ruthless as the one who had slain emperors had moments of helplessness.

Time slipped away quietly, day by day, month by month.

Xia Lan's health deteriorated day by day. Her beautiful long hair now had several strands of silver, and her stunning face had lost its rosy glow. She felt utterly exhausted and slept excessively, like someone gravely ill, as if this sleep might last forever.

As her husband, Yang Ge Lao had exhausted every effort. He had summoned renowned physicians from hundreds of miles around, regardless of the cost.

Those physicians did have genuine skills and abilities. They prescribed remedy after remedy and prepared pile after pile of herbs, but Xia Lan showed no improvement. It wasn't that their medical expertise was lacking; the illness was simply beyond mortal cures. Even Ye Chen was at a loss, let alone them.

With the illness untreated, Xia Lan suffered, and Yang Ge Lao grew increasingly haggard. His white hair was even more abundant than hers, and his once straight back had begun to stoop. Ye Chen couldn't bear to watch.

However, some things Ye Chen could say, while others he couldn't. The matter of the Tian Sha Gu Xing was the same whether spoken or not; forcing it out would only add trouble.

Day after day, Yang Ge Lao still came every day. He no longer trusted those physicians and only brought Xia Lan to Ye Chen for treatment.

"No major issue!"

Ye Chen had repeated this lie countless times, even feeling guilty himself. The prescriptions he wrote were all for tonifying qi and blood. Every time the Tian Sha Gu Xing's pulse strengthened, Xia Lan's weakened. As her abdomen grew more prominent, her condition worsened. There were days when even walking was difficult.

It was another dawn when Ye Chen arrived early.

This time, only Yang Ge Lao waited at the entrance of the tavern. Seeing Ye Chen approach, he hurriedly set up his stall, doing it clumsily—or rather, distractedly—so that several items ended up in the wrong places.

Only after finishing did he sit down, staring straight at Ye Chen. "Tell me honestly, what kind of illness does Xia Lan have?"

"No major issue."

Ye Chen replied without meeting Yang Ge Lao's eyes.

"Don't deceive me."

Yang Ge Lao's breathing grew rapid. He stared intently at Ye Chen, his eyes reddening as if he might cry. "I'm no fool, and I'm not blind. I can see Xia Lan is seriously ill. Just last night at dawn, the inner energy she had cultivated for decades was completely depleted."

"It's due to the cultivation method she practices."

Ye Chen finally looked up, meeting Yang Ge Lao's gaze directly. This was another way of bluffing—if he was going to deceive, he might as well go all the way. At least, this was a more legitimate excuse than his previous evasions.

"Does the Yao Yue Gong cultivation method have a problem?"

Yang Ge Lao asked, skeptical.

"The method itself is fine, but breaking the taboo turns it into a problem."

Ye Chen continued his serious bluffing, sighing. "The founder of Yao Yue Gong must have deeply resented men, which is why they embedded flaws in the method. Practicing it while remaining a virgin is harmless, but if the chastity is broken, the flaws emerge gradually. It's especially severe during pregnancy. This might be the founder's way of punishing later generations, as a warning to those in Yao Yue Gong to strictly follow the palace rules and avoid emotional attachments, or face dire consequences."

"Damn it."

Yang Ge Lao raged, slamming his palm down and splitting Ye Chen's table in half.

Ye Chen felt a bit awkward and guilty. After thinking for a while, he decided to pin the blame on Yao Yue Gong for now. After all, it was far away, so let them take the hit. Yang Ge Lao wasn't likely to go seeking revenge.

"I know you have a way to fix it. Please, save her."

Yang Ge Lao looked at him with full hope, his tone almost pleading. Back when his own cultivation method had issues, Ye Chen had resolved it. Now, with Xia Lan suffering from her technique, Ye Chen could probably do the same.

"There is a way to break it."

Ye Chen stood up and pieced the broken table back together, saying casually, "I can resolve the flaws in her method, but only after she gives birth. Otherwise, tampering with it could harm the child."

"You're not just deceiving me, are you?"

"Rest assured, everything will be fine."

Ye Chen picked up his brush and wrote out a few more doses of medicine for Old Yang. "Give these to her to nourish her qi and blood. Once the child is born, everything can be handled."

"Thank you."

Yang Ge Lao bowed solemnly and hurried off to the pharmacy. Since Ye Chen said it was nothing serious, he believed it unconditionally.

Behind him, Ye Chen rubbed his brow. He never realized he had become so skilled at spinning tales—smooth and effortless, without a hint of blush. The tenth emperor of Da Chu was straying further down the path of deception, and nothing could hold him back.

Another day passed, and Yin Shan arrived.

Indeed, he had emerged alive from the ancient tombs. He looked even older now, leaning on a withered staff, with his graying hair half-scattered, covering half his face. Even old friends might not recognize him.

His lifespan was nearly exhausted. Who would have thought he was nearly a hundred years old? If he had the Yuan Jing Ring, living another decade or so wouldn't be a problem. Unfortunately, the ring had been integrated into the Yuan Jing by Ye Chen, and no second one existed in the world.

"Senior didn't deceive me after all."

After several months, Yin Shan sat at Ye Chen's table again, his voice hoarse but calmer than before.

"Did you see Yin Yue Huang Fei?"

Ye Chen asked with a smile.

"A remarkable woman from the Qin dynasty, with unmatched grace. The world speaks truly of her."

Yin Shan sighed.

"I took your Yuan Jing Ring, leading to the end of your lifespan. If you wish, I can ask Huang Fei to seal you temporarily until later, when I can take you to cultivate immortality."

Ye Chen said gently.

"I've lived long enough. I'm old and tired now."

Yin Shan smiled warmly, his expression full of weariness from the years. Having lived nearly a hundred years, he was a man with stories, having witnessed the world's vicissitudes. The youthful heart from his youth had long been buried with the passing seasons.

Ye Chen said nothing. Since Yin Shan didn't want it, he wouldn't insist.

"May I ask a favor of you, senior?"

After a long silence, Yin Shan spoke again.

"Go ahead."

"After I die, please find a quiet spot to bury me. No need for a tombstone or inscription—just a simple grave will do."

Yin Shan's voice was raspy.

"As you wish."

Ye Chen replied calmly.

"Thank you."

Yin Shan bowed and left, supported by his staff, trembling as he disappeared into the crowd. He found a small garden in Zhu Xian Zhen and settled there quietly, waiting for his end. Having seen through life and death, death wasn't as terrifying as he once thought.

Ye Chen sighed more than anything. When a person is near death, their words turn kind. He and Yin Shan had no deep grudge; it was all from misunderstandings. Since Yin Shan chose eternal rest, Ye Chen wouldn't force him.

On the third day, the Xie Mo arrived. The Tian Sha Gu Xing was about to be born, so she had to stay nearby—to save the mother and prevent Ye Chen from causing trouble. Who knows, he might impulsively try to eliminate the Tian Sha Gu Xing, that precious entity.

In the following days, the sky over Zhu Xian Zhen was constantly overcast with dark clouds, as if shrouded in a gray veil. Occasionally, lightning flashed through, making it seem like rain was coming, but not a drop fell. This weather kept many stall owners from setting up.

Mortals didn't understand, but Ye Chen and Xie Mo knew well.

This was an omen—the prelude to the birth of the Tian Sha Gu Xing. It was just the beginning; the real spectacle would come later, with grand disturbances unfit for the ages.

Looking at Xia Lan again, her breath was extremely weak, her face deathly pale without any color, and her mind foggy. She felt as if her spirit was being pulled into an endless abyss, cold and suffocating, making her body shiver uncontrollably. The pain she should have felt was completely numb.

Ten months of pregnancy was pure torment for her, like a process of nurturing life that led straight to death. Today, she could hold on no longer.

Yang Ge Lao was frantic with sweat and rounded up all the midwives in town. He even issued a deadly order: if anything happened to Xia Lan, none of them would leave alive.

However, when the midwives examined Xia Lan, they nearly collapsed on the spot.

Midwifery was usually a good job—successful births often came with rewards—but it depended on the mother's condition. In Xia Lan's state, not only was giving birth impossible, but even moving was a struggle. There was a high chance of fatality.

"Master Yang, your wife's body is too weak. We can't handle this delivery."

After glancing at each other, the midwives all knelt down.

"Do you all want to die?"

Yang Ge Lao roared in anger, drawing his Xuan Lei Jian, his eyes bloodshot and savage. This involved his wife and child's lives; it was no wonder he was losing his mind.

The midwives were terrified, sweating profusely as they kowtowed repeatedly, begging for mercy. Today's Yang Ge Lao was completely different from his usual self—utterly frightening.

"Husband, don't trouble them."

Xia Lan, lying on the bed, spoke weakly, knowing her own state. This was a gate of hell she was fated not to pass.

The word "husband" instantly melted Yang Ge Lao's cold and violent heart. The Xuan Lei Jian slipped from his hand unintentionally, and his body trembled.

The midwives seized the chance to flee the room. It wasn't that they refused to help, but they were powerless. If Yang Ge Lao went mad, they would all die.

Meanwhile, Yang Ge Lao had crouched by the bed, tears welling in his eyes.

"What are you doing? I'm not dead yet."

Xia Lan tried to smile, though it was forced and pale. She wanted to lift her hand to touch his face but lacked the strength.

"Don't say such things. I—"

Yang Ge Lao's words were cut off as he felt his body lift off the ground, unsure of what was happening, and he was thrown toward the door.

Indeed, he was tossed out, flying who knows how far.

The one who threw him was the Xie Mo. With a casual lift of her hand, she sent Yang Ge Lao flying. Clearly, she intended to handle the delivery herself. Though she had never done it before, she was far superior to any mortal midwife—after all, she was a demonic entity.

Outside, Yang Ge Lao landed, plunging headfirst into a flower bed.

Even then, he hadn't seen who threw him.

"Who is it?"

In just a second, he charged out, shouting thunderously.

"Quiet down and wait patiently."

A casual voice came from the nearby pavilion. It was Ye Chen, holding a wine jug and drinking leisurely.

Yang Ge Lao was stunned, confused. "Do you know the person who went in?"

"That's my master-of-many-generations-removed ancestor."

Ye Chen rattled off a string of "master" words, still feeling it wasn't enough, as if he could add more. He wasn't exaggerating; the Xie Mo's seniority was incredibly high—so high that shouting for days wouldn't reach it.