Three days later, Lang Juntian indeed took them to the Ancestor’s Tomb.
The Lang Family’s cemetery was vast, burying generations of Lang ancestors.
The rows of tombs stood silent and solemn.
Lang Junxian wore a steady expression, his mood subdued.
Bai Maomao walked beside him, his eyes flickering over each gravestone, occasionally catching sight of some marked with strange wolf head totems.
Lang Junxian closed his eyes, lost in thought.
Bai Maomao’s eyes darted around, faintly guessing at the meaning behind the tombstones.
Among the Lang ancestors’ tombs, every few graves had two adjacent gravestones carved with wolf head emblems—likely a couple.
At the very center stood a taller, grander stone stele—the resting place of the Lang Family’s first ancestor.
The accompanying servant carefully arranged the ritual offerings.
Lang Juntian took three incense sticks and led the worship.
When visiting the ancestor’s resting place, one must first pay respects to the forebears.
The servant lit the incense, and the two followed Lang Juntian in the ritual.
After placing the incense sticks into the burner, Lang Juntian spoke, “Greetings to the ancestor. From now on, you are the rightful Second Young Master of the Lang Family.”
Lang Junxian responded in a low voice.
“I will take you to see your mother.”
As mentioned before, the cemetery was large, shaped like a ring.
The silent stone tablets radiated from the center outward, guarding the Lang ancestors generation by generation.
Lang Junxian’s mother’s grave lay on the outermost ring.
The gravestone was new; the photo preserved well.
It was impressive that Lang Juntian had managed to create such a lifelike tomb.
“Mother, I’ve come back.”
Lang Junxian knelt on both knees.
The woman in the photo smiled gently; she must have been a kind person in life.
Bai Maomao knelt down alongside him.
The two solemnly kowtowed three times, then respectfully lit incense.
“We should go back.”
Lang Junxian turned, his face unreadable.
Lang Juntian scrutinized his son carefully but found no cracks.
Lang Junxian’s reaction was unexpected—no tears, no anger, no accusations.
It was as if he had only come to pay a glance and would then leave.
No matter what Lang Juntian thought, Lang Junxian was already satisfied.
Even knowing it was just an empty grave, seeing the photo on the stone was enough.
So much time had passed, his mother’s image growing faint, blurred by the wind into a vague outline.
Now, he finally recalled her face once more.
After the cemetery visit, life returned to calm for Lang Junxian and Bai Maomao.
Whether in their rented house or the Lang Family’s small courtyard, nothing changed much.
Lang Juntian was busy these days and rarely seen.
When he did find time, it was a hurried visit to check on his son.
The two hid away in the small courtyard, living comfortably with servants taking care of their needs, allowing them to focus on cultivation.
The hostility from the Lang Family nearly overflowed.
Bai Maomao remained vigilant, wishing he could spend every moment refining his cultivation.
His strength steadily advanced, quickly reaching the critical moment of breakthrough, ready to ascend at any time.
Lang Junxian kept watch over him these days.
Seeing him gather his Qi and open his eyes, he nervously asked, “Can you still hold it in?”
Bai Maomao frowned.
His cultivation was ripe, ready to break through the thin barrier, but the timing and place were not right.
The Lang Family was not safe.
“At most two days. We’ll find an excuse to leave for a bit.”
Lang Junxian nodded and sent a message to Mo Qin.
Sure enough, the next day someone came to invite them, saying the Mo Family Head wished to catch up.
The Lang Family didn’t know when Lang Junxian had befriended the Mo Family Head, openly and covertly probing them.
Only Lang Juntian knew some of the background, explaining, “Junxian and the Mo Family Head were university classmates.”
That explained it.
People wanting to reminisce about university days was hard to forbid.
Lang Junxi frowned.
A suddenly emerging illegitimate son getting along with the Mo Family Head—there was deeper meaning, twisting his thoughts in several directions.
The two brothers exchanged a glance, worry flashing in their eyes.
They got into the Mo Family’s carriage and quickly left.
When they arrived, Mo Qin did not come out but sent the butler to say they could act freely, no need to be polite.
The butler was respectful but confused why the family head invited guests to catch up yet did not appear himself.
Lang Junxian knew a bit and didn’t bother with formalities, directly having the butler lead him to the Jing Shi.
Bai Maomao’s surging spiritual power was barely contained, ready to break through any moment.
Once inside, the butler withdrew properly. Lang Junxian set up a protective barrier at the door and stood guard.
Bai Maomao sat cross-legged, expression grave, and scooped a bowl of spring water from the Space Pool, placing it before him.
The liquefied Lingqi rapidly filled the entire Jing Shi.
Bai Maomao’s spiritual power spun faster within him.
The Little Vine, which had been sleeping in the Qian Kun Dai, suddenly woke up.
Its slender vines carefully wrapped around Bai Maomao’s wrist.
Bai Maomao gently stroked it and focused on meditation.
Outside, dark clouds pressed down on the Mo Family estate’s sky.
Thunder rumbled intermittently across the horizon.
Inside the Jing Shi, Bai Maomao sat cross-legged, hands resting naturally on his knees, palms facing upward.
A faint red glow enveloped him, the delicate skin on his face tinged pink.
The small red birthmark on his brow brightened vividly.
The Little Vine loosened its grip from his wrist, curling into a green bracelet in his right palm.
Lang Junxian watched Bai Maomao’s changes without blinking.
Bai Maomao’s mind sank into his Dan Tian, where a golden core the size of a large egg appeared, its surface covered with tiny cracks spreading outward.
The spiritual power spun faster, the core unable to withstand the pressure, finally shattering.
With the core broken, the Rebirth Realm was achieved.
Bai Maomao opened his eyes, sparkling with energy.
The Little Vine in his palm lifted its tendrils to brush his cheek before vanishing.
Bai Maomao blinked in surprise.
At that moment, a childish voice echoed in his mind, “Master?”
Looking inward to his Dan Tian, he saw the white infant in the shattered core waving the small seedling in its hand.
“Master.”
Bai Maomao smiled softly.
The white infant reached out to gently touch the tender green leaves.
The Little Vine joyfully sent a ripple of sensation from the touch.
Bai Maomao’s smile widened.
Beaming, he showed Lang Junxian, “Little Vine is now in my Dan Tian.”
Lang Junxian frowned.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Bai Maomao shook his head but clearly hadn’t thought too deeply.
“But I can understand what Little Vine says now.”
He stretched out his right hand again.
Slowly, a sprout grew from his palm, its two tender leaves trembling as it waved at Lang Junxian.
Lang Junxian looked down at him.
Bai Maomao proudly held the sprout before his face.
Lang Junxian pinched his fingers and gently touched the two leaves.
The leaves shuddered sensitively and immediately retracted.
Bai Maomao felt the odd sensation from the leaf being touched, shook his hand, and put it behind his back.
Lang Junxian noticed the small gesture but said nothing.
Silently, he thought next time he might coax Bai Maomao to let him see the Yuanshen—the miniature Bai Maomao—inside his Dan Tian.
It would surely be adorable.
When they were about to leave, Mo Qin finally appeared.
Mo Qin’s face was still cold as he hugged a small rabbit and sent them off.
“Congratulations.”
Bai Maomao’s gaze lingered on the rabbit, then he pouted, “Take good care of yourself if you want to protect him.”
All three understood the meaning behind the words.
Mo Qin’s expression softened slightly as he smiled faintly, “I know. You all take care too.”
“Yeah, goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
Bai Maomao sat in the back seat, looking back.
Mo Qin’s figure grew smaller and smaller until it became a tiny dot in his vision.
“Don’t you think Mo Qin looks thinner? And not very well?”
“Yeah,” Lang Junxian held his hand.
“He has another gu inserted inside him.”
The wolf clan was naturally sensitive.
Lang Junxian had been puzzled why Mo Qin hadn’t come to see them before.
Now it seemed that in those days, he had been planting new gu in his body.
Judging by his pale complexion, it was unlikely to be good news.
The atmosphere suddenly grew heavy.
Bai Maomao asked softly, “Will Mo Qin die?”
Lang Junxian was silent for a moment, then answered, “No.”
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