Chapter 76: Relocation, Nurturing the Unborn Child in Peace

Inside the cave, though the voice was hoarse, it was clear it belonged to a woman—presumably the Taoist nun awaiting childbirth. With his ghastly appearance, Ji Ming dared not present himself before her directly, lest he frighten her into premature labor and bring about the celestial child’s untimely birth.

“May I ask, madam, have you been awaiting childbirth in this cave for six or seven months already?”

“It’s been over seven months,” the footsteps inside halted at just the right moment, and she asked, “Are you, like my husband, an immortal from the Central Plains?”

Hearing her words, Ji Ming realized she was invoking her husband’s identity to ward off scoundrels—a sign she was not without cunning. Recalling the celestial dream brought on by the misused Yellow Millet Pillow, he remembered the woman had called her husband by name—Tai’e, if he was not mistaken.

He knew that in the southwestern borderlands, especially in the villages of Li Ridge, people often addressed each other as brother or sister. Ji Ming pressed, “Does your husband’s name contain the character ‘Tai’?”

He asked these things purposefully, hoping to glean useful information from the nun, such as how many months had passed, to calculate how much longer until the birth.

To be reborn as a celestial was not as simple as entering the womb and waiting for all to be well. Especially under the watchful eyes of the villainous monks of Four Sorrow Cloud Monastery, he had to ensure that, at the very least, he would be protected by Crane Watch after his rebirth. Failing that, if he could be sent to Panhu Mountain’s sect to become a side-path cultivator, it would still be acceptable.

After his question, there was no further reply from the cave. Ji Ming knew he must have betrayed himself, so he quietly withdrew.

He did not go far, instead circling the peak. Finding a secluded spot, he discreetly planted three soul-essence banners atop the summit, ordering the spirits within to guard the cave entrance well.

Only then did he fly back down to the foot of the peak and explain the situation to Golden Ape, omitting the details of their conversation.

“I sense the woman inside is highly vigilant. Why don't you try speaking with her? Perhaps you can win her trust.”

“I can’t!” Golden Ape protested with a grimace, waving his hand. “I’m blunt and inarticulate—anything I say will probably make things worse.”

Ji Ming laughed. “That’s exactly why your honest tongue is needed.”

Without giving Golden Ape any further chance to object, Ji Ming seized him and soared into the clouds. “Sooner or later, we’ll cross paths with Zhenguo and his men. If we’re outnumbered, it’ll be dangerous. But if we gain this woman’s trust and move her outside the mountain, the celestial child may be safely born.”

Before long, they landed again in front of the cave.

Peering ahead, Golden Ape’s eyes widened—embedded in the iron plaque above the cave was a palm-sized, dazzling magic mirror radiating a forceful aura of exorcism.

“Brother, it’s fortunate you didn’t enter the cave. That is the ‘Treasure Mirror of Xi State,’ brought from a minor foreign country into our land. It isn’t as attuned to its owner as other magical tools, but it’s particularly effective against evil spirits and monsters.”

Golden Ape studied the mirror for a while. “It’s a rare artifact, though its use is limited. Still, it’s often worn as a symbol of status by the scions of many Taoist sects.”

“Status!” Ji Ming muttered.

Having said his piece, Golden Ape swaggered inside.

Ji Ming halted at the cave entrance, watching Golden Ape stride boldly in. Not even a word of warning?! Almost immediately, a cacophony of angry shouts erupted within, followed by the sounds of a scuffle—alarming Ji Ming greatly.

He called anxiously from outside, “Careful! Don’t upset her—she mustn’t go into labor!”

After a long while, the ruckus subsided. Golden Ape emerged, feathers stuck to him, his face slightly swollen and scratched.

“How did it go?” Ji Ming asked, only to hear the woman inside call out, “Just wait till my Tai’e returns—then you’ll get what you deserve!”

Golden Ape retorted, clutching his face, “By the time your so-called husband returns, those villainous monks will have already found you and destroyed your unborn child!”

“Don’t try to deceive me!”

“What would I gain by lying? I, the son of the River God of South Pan River, have no need to trick a lone woman!”

“So you look down on us mountain folk women?!”

Golden Ape turned to Ji Ming, feeling wronged. “Brother, did I say anything to belittle the women of Li Ridge? Is this reasonable?”

Seeing the conversation veer further off course, Ji Ming quickly intervened, whispering, “She’s about to give birth—her emotions are unstable. Be understanding.”

A figure appeared at the cave entrance, wrapped in leopard skin. “Demons outside the cave!” she called.

She was obviously referring to Ji Ming, who hastily turned away, remembering to cover his monstrous form with his monk’s robe. “My appearance is unsightly, madam—please avert your eyes for the child’s sake.”

“I’m not easily startled,” the woman replied with a gentle laugh, showing not the slightest fear at Ji Ming’s centipede body, but rather a hint of curiosity. “Since that monkey is so foolish and guileless, I’ll trust, for now, that you mean no harm.”

“Brother!” Golden Ape was bewildered. “Is she complimenting me, or insulting me?”

“She’s praising you,” Ji Ming replied, his gaze fixed on the woman.

Within his mind’s spiritual platform, the treasured eye was already quietly activated, a mysterious light swirling around the character for “transformation.” The moment of seizing celestial destiny had come. From this moment—“I am the celestial one.”

Excitement and a strange emptiness mingled within him, as though fulfilling his long-cherished wish had left him hollow.

The woman seemed to notice nothing amiss and said, “Still, whether I leave the cave or not must wait until my husband returns.”

“Very well,” Ji Ming agreed, stopping Golden Ape from speaking further.

He knew that overreaching would be counterproductive. For now, he had at least confirmed that the celestial child would be his next incarnation.

For the following days, Ji Ming and Golden Ape kept watch outside the cave, patrolling the peak like a pair of loyal guardian beasts. Occasionally, Ji Ming would chat with the woman through the entrance, telling amusing stories to lift her spirits and keep her from feeling stifled.

In these exchanges, he learned her name was Qiao Gu, a member of the Shiba tribe from a mountain village beyond Six-Tusk Mountain. Among the thirty-six regions of the world, such people were often referred to as mountain folk or foreign barbarians.

What truly troubled Ji Ming, however, was Qiao Gu’s increasingly monstrous body—a clear sign her secret cultivation method could no longer restrain her demonic nature.

According to Golden Ape, who had glimpsed Qiao Gu when he barged in, her transformation was already severe—her arms had become a pair of wings.

Golden Ape could only offer her spiritual fruits to help her muster the energy to barely restrain the demonic influence within her flesh.

Yet such cultivation required movement and controlled breathing—something Qiao Gu, in her current state, could no longer manage. She confided that all she cared about now was safely bearing her twin children; nothing else concerned her.

With Golden Ape’s cover and Ji Ming’s constant patrols, a month and a half passed peacefully.

More than seven months had already gone by before; now, with another month and a half, Qiao Gu could give birth at any moment.

Ji Ming was more anxious than Qiao Gu herself—so much so that Golden Ape almost believed the child was Ji Ming’s.

There was, however, one piece of good news. The blood jade centipede in the Stone Spirit Box had finally laid its clutch of eggs. Ji Ming carefully picked out each curled egg, sealed them in the box, and set aside thirty-eight pouches of essence.

Twenty would be traded to Lord Chi Yi for a drop of Venom Star Poison Wine; the remaining eighteen, produced at great cost to himself, were for breeding the centipede further.

But it seemed there was no time left to complete the trade with Lord Chi Yi, so he entrusted all of this to Golden Ape.

One day, after a rainbow mist rose at the mountain’s foot, Ji Ming remarked, “It’s getting colder lately.”

Golden Ape, just back from gathering wild fruits—and bearing a few pieces of wild boar and several fresh fish—replied, “Indeed. After all, it’s midwinter.”

Li Ridge, being in the south, was cool and humid, with little temperature variation and ample rain; even in deep winter, it was mild.

Ji Ming did not believe the change in weather was merely seasonal. Lacking evidence, he kept silent, not wishing to worry Golden Ape.

“Has Qiao Gu finally relented? Is she still waiting for her husband?”

“I’ll try again today,” said Golden Ape, lifting the meat and fish. “She knows perfectly well—what villain would serve her so diligently for more than a month?”

He cast a peculiar look at Ji Ming and grumbled, “Even telling bedtime stories every night—what a blow to our dignity.”

“Go quickly,” Ji Ming urged, not bothering to explain, and pushed Golden Ape toward the cave.

Just then, the rainbow mist swirling around the cave mouth suddenly shifted—receding as if drawn by an unseen tide toward a single direction, as though an invisible maw was swallowing it, even pulling in the radiant clouds above.

“Jialan Serpent!” Ji Ming and Golden Ape exchanged a glance—they both thought of the same name.

Only the Jialan Serpent could manipulate the mountain mists and draw in the very glow of the clouds with such mysterious power.

“Stick to the plan—take her down the mountain, then hide in the river beneath the mussel carriage,” Ji Ming ordered calmly, grabbing Golden Ape before he could enter the cave again. “Be extra careful—she could go into labor at any moment.”

Golden Ape rushed inside, but reemerged even faster, sweat pouring down his furry face.

Ji Ming’s heart skipped a beat. When good omens fail, ill ones never do.