Cultivation of immortality begins with an eighty-year-old eunuch.

Chapter 672 Su Rina is pregnant!

Chen Fan stood with his hands behind his back in the tent, remaining silent for a long time.

He looked at the young man kneeling before him, and for a moment he hesitated.

After all, Huzhu Chi is not a bad person and his aptitude is quite good. With a little guidance, he may well achieve something in the future.

But he ultimately shook his head.

"I don't accept disciples. Saving you today was just a favor; you don't need to be grateful. Rest enough and then leave."

The light in Huzhu Chi's eyes dimmed.

He didn't press the matter further, but kowtowed three more times, silently stood up, and walked out of the tent.

As he reached the tent entrance, Hu Zhuchi suddenly stopped, turned around and glanced at Chen Fan, his young face showing genuine gratitude.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he only bowed deeply to Chen Fan: "Senior, whether you acknowledge it or not, you saved my life. If there is anything I can do for you in the future, just say the word, and I will go through fire and water for you."

After saying that, he lifted the tent flap and strode out.

The wind and snow outside the tent had mostly stopped. Chen Fan watched through the gap in the tent flap as the young figure gradually disappeared into the twilight of the grassland. After standing there for a moment, he looked away and continued wrapping the herbs in his hands.

The cicada gently fluttered its wings inside his sleeve, emitting a very faint buzzing sound. He looked down at his sleeve; the cicada was peeking out half its head, its dark red compound eyes staring in the direction where Hu Zhu Chi had disappeared, its antennae trembling slightly, as if sensing something.

Chen Fan gently flicked its little head, pressed it back into his sleeve, and continued to squat down to pick up the scattered medicinal herbs on the ground.

……

The snow on the grassland has mostly melted, and the ice on the lake is getting thinner day by day, with the faint sound of water pattering at the edges.

The snowmelt accumulated last winter seeped into the soil, nourishing the grass roots that had been frozen all winter. In less than half a month, the entire grassland was covered with a layer of velvety green again.

The herders in the Batu tribe gradually moved out of their winter huts, dismantling the heavy sheepskin tent roofs and replacing them with breathable new felt. The sheep, having been cooped up in their pens all winter, frolicked and rolled around on the grassland, their hooves kicking up mud.

The old gray-maned horse also became much more energetic. Every morning when Chen Fan led it to the lake to drink, it would always put its nose to the water and blow a few bubbles, then raise its head and snort, as if celebrating the return of spring.

Batel's wife, Surina, is pregnant.

Batu's wife was the first to discover this news.

That morning, Su Rina was milking goats in front of the tent when she suddenly gagged a few times while holding her back. Batu's wife, who was holding a milk basin, watched from the side, paused for a moment, then put the milk basin on the ground and ran towards Chen Fan's tent.

"Chen Fan! Chen Fan!" Her wrinkles seemed to glow as she lifted the tent flap. "Su Rina is pregnant! You're going to be a grandfather!"

Chen Fan was squatting in the tent grinding herbs when his hand paused.

He looked up at Batu's wife's face, rough and red from the winds of the grassland, and remained silent for a moment before speaking: "It's Batel's child, not my grandson."

"You're Batel's master, so according to the customs of the grasslands, you're practically his father! What else should his child call him but you, Grandpa?" Batu's wife completely ignored his corrections, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him outside. "Go quickly and get a checkup on Surina, and prescribe some medicine to prevent miscarriage!"

Chen Fan stumbled a few steps as she pulled him, almost dropping the pestle in his hand. He didn't argue further, but simply put the pestle back into the mortar, took a few herbs for pregnancy support from the medicine shelf, and followed Batu's wife to Batel's tent.

Su Rina sat on the sheepskin rug, a shy smile on her round face. Batel squatted beside her, one hand on her waist, his expression a mixture of surprise, delight, and bewilderment, as if a pie had just fallen from the sky and hit him on the head.

Upon seeing Chen Fan enter, he jumped to his feet, opened his mouth as if to say something, but only managed to utter two words: "Uncle Chen..."

Chen Fan gestured for Su Rina to extend her wrist, placing three fingers on her pulse. The pulse was smooth and strong, confirming her pregnancy. He then subtly probed with his divine sense to confirm the fetus was stable and the mother was unharmed before withdrawing his fingers and placing the herbs he had brought on the low table.

"One dose per day, boil three bowls of water down to one bowl, and drink it warm after meals. Take it for seven consecutive days; there is no need to take more." He said calmly.

Batu's wife thanked him profusely, and Batel wished he could kowtow to him three more times.

Chen Fan simply waved his hand, and as he turned to walk out of the tent, he bumped into Batu, who had rushed over upon hearing the news.

Batu had clearly just run over from the stables, his feet still covered in horse manure, but his smile was as bright as the sun on the grassland.

He grabbed Chen Fan's shoulder with such force that Chen Fan almost stumbled: "Chen Fan! I'm going to be a grandfather! You're going to be a grandfather too!"

"He's your grandson, not mine."

"Enough talk! Come to my tent tonight for a drink, we won't leave until we're drunk!"

Chen Fan was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly.

Since he grasped the meaning of the cycle of life and death during that rainstorm, he no longer deliberately kept his distance from others as before.

Batu's generosity, Batel's honesty, and Surina's gentleness—these human emotions are no longer trivial matters in his eyes, but rather a part of his understanding of the world.

He no longer watched coldly as a passerby, but began to truly integrate into life on this grassland.

They drank until late at night, and Batu got so drunk that he was unconscious. His wife dragged him back to the tent.

Chen Fan sat alone on a wooden stake in front of the tent, gazing at the starry sky in a daze.

The cicada gently fluttered its wings inside the sleeve.

Over the past few months, it has fallen into a deep sleep several times. Each time it wakes up, the dark gold patterns on its carapace become even more profound, and the pure black tentacles next to its mouthparts have fully taken shape, with the dark gold glow at their tips becoming increasingly intense.

Chen Fan knew that it was only a thin veil away from the next breakthrough, but he did not urge it.

Since he grasped the true meaning of transforming from mortal to god, his obsession with cultivation has faded considerably.

A breakthrough will happen naturally when it's time; there's no rush.

Life returned to its usual routine.

Herding sheep, feeding horses, chopping firewood, tanning leather, treating patients—day after day.

In front of Chen Fan's tent, herders who had come from all directions were still lined up. Some had been bitten by snakes, some had broken their legs, some women had suffered difficult childbirth, and some children had fevers.

He examined them all without accepting any payment, only occasionally receiving a few pieces of dried mutton or a pot of goat milk wine as a token of his gratitude.

As spring drew to a close, fewer and fewer people came to him for medical treatment.

Springtime on the grasslands is a season of renewal for all things, and people and livestock are less prone to illness. Chen Fan's days became even more leisurely. Sometimes, he would go an entire day without a single patient, during which time he would meditate and regulate his breathing in his tent, or lead Grey Mane to graze the horse by the lake.

That afternoon, Chen Fan was sitting on a blue stone by the lake watching the sheep graze when he suddenly heard a series of clanging and banging sounds coming from the other end of the village.

The sound was crisp and powerful, with a distinct rhythm, and it carried far away on the wind of the grassland.

He followed the sound and stopped in front of an old tent at the northernmost part of the tribe.