I Can Fix My Talent in Hundred Lives

Chapter 639: Chapter 491: Qin Ping’an (5)

"Senior sister, when holding the child, you need to support his waist and head. His body is soft, so you can’t just hold his arms."

"Look, this is how you support him, then he’ll be comfortable."

As he spoke, he gestured with gentle, practiced movements, showing familiarity.

Tang Xichen listened attentively, nodding repeatedly.

Soon after, he patted his chest saying he’d learned, reaching out to take Qin Ping’an from his mother’s arms, speaking urgently:

"Mom, I’ve got it, let me try again."

But Huang Wangyou was somewhat unwilling, gently rocking Qin Ping’an, murmuring:

"Let mom hold him for a bit longer, you’re too clumsy, I wouldn’t be at ease."

Chen Sheng watched this scene, shaking his head with a smile.

There were many children in the household, yet, except for Qin Ping’an, whether it was Tang Wenhe, Tang Wenya, or other grandchildren, all were the Tang Clan’s third generation with memories retained through Chen Sheng’s "Dream Order" reflecting reality.

They seemed young but were not, all were "old cucumbers painted green," only Qin Ping’an was a new life in the mortal realm, pure and vibrant.

Naturally endearing!

...

Time flows like a creek, passing by quietly, in a blink, several years went by.

Qin Ping’an had grown into a rosy-cheeked child, wearing a small blue shirt, lively and active.

His favorite thing was to play with his peers like cousin Tang Wenhe and cousin Tang Wenya.

The rear courtyard of the Herbal Hall and under the old locust tree in front were often filled with his crisp laughter.

On this day, the sun was just right, on the open ground beneath the old locust tree.

Tang Wenhe held a wooden sword, standing tall, his moves steady and forceful.

Tang Wenya danced with a ribbon sword, her figure graceful, the ribbons flying like clouds, lively and elegant.

Qin Ping’an clapped and cheered repeatedly, full of admiration:

"Cousin Wenhe, you’re so amazing!"

"Cousin Wenya, your sword dance is so beautiful, like a fairy!"

Qin Ping’an bounced around them, occasionally imitating sword movements, playing until he was sweaty and joyful.

After a while, he was tired from playing, collapsing on a stone bench, panting heavily.

Tang Xichen came over with a cup of warm water, smiling as he ruffled his hair, taking a round, pale golden Pill from his sleeve and putting it in his mouth:

"Run slower, don’t tire yourself out. Here, have a Nourishing Essence Pill crafted by your grandfather, to replenish your energy."

The Pill instantly melted in his mouth, a warm feeling sliding down his throat, spreading quickly through his body.

Qin Ping’an immediately felt refreshed, fatigue disappearing, wanting to get up and play again, but Tang Xichen grabbed him with a smile:

"No running wild anymore, rest a bit before playing."

Tang Wenhe, Tang Wenya, and others looked at Qin Ping’an bouncing away, a faint trace of envy flashed in their eyes.

Qin Ping’an was a pure child of the mortal realm, full of possibilities, and could choose a path of Cultivation (if Chen Sheng consented).

"Alright, living again, with such family warmth, why ask for more?"

Tang Wenhe first withdrew his gaze, speaking with a touch of relief, patting Tang Wenya’s shoulder.

Tang Wenya nodded gently, the envy in her eyes fading, replaced with a gentle smile:

"That’s right, after all, we’re nearly a hundred years old, we should maintain our mindset and enjoy this peace."

The others also chimed in, the minor regrets they held slowly faded in this warmth.

Under the corridor, Chen Sheng watched this scene, seeing the children play, nodding quietly.

This was the reason he insisted on preserving their memories when reflecting the Tang Clan’s third generation.

Instead of having them grow up and suddenly realize they were merely illusions, bearing the shock and pain of the truth.

Better to awaken them with memories, early acceptance of fate, and live peacefully in warmth.

...

On this day, in the South State City, two figures in green robes approached from afar.

Their postures were upright, eyes like hawks, piercing through the market noise, pinpointing the Herbal Hall with its high wooden plaque and lingering herbal fragrance.

The Daoist on the left had a stern face, prominent brow bone, with a bronze Dharma Seal hanging at his waist, speaking in a deep voice:

"Herbal Hall, this is the place, those Qi Blood Pills scattered outside originate from here."

"By any means necessary, today we’ll obtain the Pill Formula."

The Daoist on the right, face slightly softened, a hint of hesitation in his eyes, softly advised:

"Senior brother, Old Huang who creates such Qi Blood Pills is likely also a Cultivator."

"If moved emotionally, explained rationally, perhaps we can draw him into our ranks, collaborating would be better than forceful seizure."

"Junior brother!"

The left Daoist abruptly turned his head, eyes sharp as knives, filled with reproach in his tone:

"Eagle claws of the Martial Dynasty pursue us, we don’t have the time."

"Now demons have founded nations, heaven and earth are chaotic, in such times, we must act extraordinarily!"

"Junior brother, don’t be soft-hearted, have you forgotten the blood feud of our Heavenly Master Sect?"

Mentioning the blood feud, the right Daoist shuddered, bowing with fists clasped:

"Brother Yuan, I dare not forget! Over a thousand disciples of the Heavenly Master Sect were all slain by the demon emperor Qi Mang, this hatred is irreconcilable!"

The two were whispering when suddenly they felt the air around them solidify, as if bound by an invisible shackle, unable to move, eyes wide with astonishment.

They were elite disciples of the Heavenly Master Sect, their Cultivation reaching the Spirit Travel realm, unexpectedly subdued invisibly, unable to even sense their opponent’s aura!

Buzz—

A figure in green silently appeared beside them.

Their pupils shrank instantly, recognizing the person before them.