Chapter 31

The first birthday celebration felt far too rushed.

Song Qingshi was deeply embarrassed. In his past life, his birthdays were grand family affairs: three-tiered cakes, chocolates and desserts flown in from abroad, and gifts piled high. His sister, especially, would shower him with presents by the dozen—from computers and designer clothes to medical instruments. His mother hosted a private concert for him every year, while his father, who preferred donating to charity in his name, once even gifted a school a laboratory building as a birthday present. The family chef would prepare longevity noodles, the nanny would give him handmade dolls, and the servants would draw charming cards wishing him peace and safety. Even in his final year, bedridden with illness, his birthday celebration had been a hundred times grander than Yue Wuhuan’s current one.

No cake, no delicacies, no greeting cards, no lavish gifts…

The Spirit Marrow was meant to break the Pleasure Seal—that had been agreed upon long ago. Xie Que’s soul was ugly and repulsive, hardly a gift. The wooden box belonged to Yue Wuhuan himself; Song Qingshi had merely added a few gemstones, which, in the immortal realm, were worthless, mere trinkets to amuse a child.

The more Song Qingshi thought about it, the more his conscience pricked him. He hastily launched more fireworks into the sky, trying to conjure some semblance of a birthday atmosphere, then retrieved a large… longevity peach from his Mustard Seed Bag.

“They say you should eat this on your birthday,” Song Qingshi mumbled, head bowed in shame, his voice growing fainter. He had visited bakeries in several cities only to discover that the immortal realm had no equivalent of a cake, and there was no time for a custom order. The shopkeeper, respecting his status as a Nascent Soul cultivator, hadn't dared refuse his unreasonable request and instead recommended this longevity peach, claiming it was used for birthdays and had a similar effect to cake.

Unable to find suitable birthday candles, he simply used his Inner Fire to ignite a small red lotus atop the peach and handed it to Yue Wuhuan. “You can make a wish, then blow out the flame. Your wish will come true.”

Yue Wuhuan had never heard of such a custom. Smiling, he took the longevity peach. “Will it really come true?”

“It will,” Song Qingshi affirmed. His parents had taught him to make wishes since childhood. Every year, he had wished for a healthy body. Though the outcome wasn't exactly as he’d imagined, he had miraculously arrived in this world and started life anew—in a way, his wish had been fulfilled.

Seeing his insistence, Yue Wuhuan compliantly closed his eyes. “I wish to celebrate my birthday with Master again next year.”

“You’re not supposed to say your wish out loud—you have to think it silently,” Song Qingshi quickly interjected, realizing he’d forgotten to mention this crucial rule. “Make another one.”

If it didn’t need to be spoken aloud, then it was simple…

Yue Wuhuan smiled, silently making an impossible wish, then gently blew towards the red lotus on the longevity peach.

As the lotus flickered, Song Qingshi extinguished the flame.

He wanted to fulfill every one of Yue Wuhuan’s wishes…

“This year’s celebration was too simple,” Song Qingshi promised earnestly. “Next year, I’ll throw you a grander one. I’ll learn how to bake a cake—a big birthday cake with white cream and your name written in jam. I’ll also buy you even prettier gemstones as gifts and set off real fireworks…”

Yue Wuhuan looked at him for a long time before tentatively asking, “Will you accompany me every year?”

Song Qingshi answered without hesitation: “I’ll accompany you every year!”

Yue Wuhuan knew for certain that Song Qingshi disliked lying; every word he spoke was a promise. This vow meant he could stay in Medicine King Valley forever, remain by his side, and gradually become the most important person in his life. Ecstasy flooded his heart, eclipsing the dark shadows within. He couldn't help but smile—he hadn’t been this happy in years.

It was as if he had returned to the joyful days of his childhood, unable to stop smiling.

Song Qingshi’s heart suddenly stirred, recalling Qing Luan’s words:

“Brother Wuhuan is most beautiful when he smiles—it’s as if all the brilliance in the world has gathered upon him, so dazzling you couldn't look away.”

It was true. His smile was truly breathtaking…

Even if all the starlight in the heavens were combined, it couldn’t steal even a fraction of his radiance.

He found himself unable to look away…

The phenethylamine in his body was increasing, clouding his rational thought. His heart pounded, and his face felt warm. What was this? These were not emotions a physician should feel toward a patient. Song Qingshi took a deep, calming breath, trying to steady himself and his emotions—when suddenly, the Nascent Soul he had painstakingly cultivated twitched violently within him. His spiritual energy grew chaotic, churning uncomfortably in his dantian.

Did this body have some hidden ailment?

Ignoring the discomfort, Song Qingshi controlled his emotions and forcibly suppressed the Nascent Soul’s disturbance, temporarily steadying his breath. He noticed that after the Pleasure Seal was removed, Yue Wuhuan’s mind had relaxed, and the spiritual energy in his meridians surged wildly, showing faint signs of Foundation Establishment. Quickly, he gave him a pill to aid his meditation and energy regulation.

Foundation Establishment was no difficult feat for Yue Wuhuan.

Song Qingshi kept watch beside him, checking his own condition while awaiting the outcome.

For over an hour, he examined himself inside and out, ruling out various toxins and other influences—yet he couldn’t pinpoint the cause of his Nascent Soul’s disturbance, which troubled him deeply.

At that moment, Yue Wuhuan opened his eyes. His Foundation Establishment was complete, and his awareness expanded to the heavens. His gaze slowly turned skyward as he warily drew his sword.

Finally, Song Qingshi looked up and realized the sky had changed without warning. Rolling black clouds blotted out the stars, forming a swirling vortex of lightning. He could hardly believe his eyes: “This is… a tribulation cloud?”

The path of cultivation defied the heavens.

Lightning tribulations were trials of life and death imposed by the heavens upon cultivators—a test and an opportunity to stabilize one’s cultivation and temper the body.

Song Qingshi had undergone this trial during his Golden Core and Nascent Soul formations and was no stranger to it. Yet… a lightning tribulation for Foundation Establishment? Such a thing was unheard of in the immortal realm! Foundation Establishment was merely the first step into the immortal path—something nearly every cultivator could achieve. How could it warrant a lightning tribulation? Had the heavens made a mistake?!

Yue Wuhuan had never encountered this during his first Foundation Establishment, so he had prepared no tribulation equipment.

The first bolt of lightning struck, its intensity comparable to a Golden Core tribulation.

Yue Wuhuan met it with his sword, thrusting forward without hesitation. A phoenix’s cry rang through the air as sword light clashed with lightning, dispersing the overwhelming heavenly strike before gradually guiding its remnants into his body. He withstood it—his newly established Foundation enduring the full force. Blood trickled from the corner of his lips as he glared at the churning thunderclouds above, his eyes filled with hatred.

This was no ordinary tribulation cloud—it was the heavens’ malice toward him.

The second bolt fell, even stronger than the first.

Song Qingshi frantically rummaged through his Mustard Seed Bag, pulling out every artifact, pill, and defensive talisman he could find, tossing them all to Yue Wuhuan in hopes of stalling the heavenly lightning. Immortal-refining pills could temporarily boost cultivation, heart-protecting pills could safeguard meridians, body-tempering pills could rapidly heal injuries… Regardless of their value or rarity, none of it mattered now…

Yue Wuhuan swiftly set up a defensive formation, bracing for the lightning with the aid of the artifacts.

The third bolt…

The fourth bolt…

The fifth bolt…

The sixth bolt…

This was a ninefold heavenly tribulation…

With each strike, Yue Wuhuan’s sword shattered, his artifacts destroyed, leaving only pills and formations to endure the onslaught. His body was battered beyond recognition, yet he laughed wildly at the heavens: “You want to break me? Come, then! You want to destroy me? Come, then! I’m waiting!”

Song Qingshi’s Nascent Soul grew increasingly unstable, the pain making him gasp, yet he dared not look away from Yue Wuhuan for even a second.

The seventh heavenly strike…

The eighth heavenly strike…

All formations had been obliterated. Yue Wuhuan collapsed once more, drenched in blood, still struggling to rise and continue the fight. But the tribulation clouds above intensified again, furious lightning churning within, gathering strength akin to a Nascent Soul tribulation. Yue Wuhuan finally realized—this tribulation had never intended to grant him even a sliver of hope…

He was meant to die today.

“Why?” Yue Wuhuan murmured, staring at the lightning above. “In your eyes, am I not even worthy of living?”

With only Foundation Establishment cultivation, no amount of struggle could withstand the full force of a Nascent Soul tribulation.

The intensity of this tribulation had shattered the laws of heaven and earth—unprecedented, never to be repeated.

Yue Wuhuan suddenly understood everything. Smiling, he addressed the thunderclouds:

“A tribulation willing to defy the heavenly laws—this isn’t hatred…”

“You have a reason to kill me during my Foundation Establishment.”

"Haha, are you actually afraid of me?"

"..."

The heavens, enraged and spurned, roared as violent thunder descended.

Yue Wuhuan mustered his last shred of strength to prop himself up, glaring venomously at the lightning as he awaited death. Reflecting on his life, he could not understand what he had done to deserve such relentless persecution from the heavens—not only destroying everything he had but even denying him life itself. He'd clawed his way out of hell, only for the fleeting warmth he had found to be snatched away in an instant.

He was not afraid of death…

He only regretted that he would not be able to spend his next birthday with Master…

Suddenly, two flaming lotuses—one red, one black—erupted in the air. Song Qingshi had soared into the sky, using his soul-bound weapon to block the thunder tribulation. He had long known this tribulation was abnormal, but intervening prematurely would only amplify its power and strip away the potential benefits it could bring. Thus, he had no choice but to endure the ordeal, waiting until the final strike, when the lightning fully manifested, to interfere.

Yet, he never imagined the final tribulation would escalate to the intensity of a Nascent Soul tribulation—or even surpass it.

The two lotuses were torn apart, and his artifacts were utterly depleted.

He had no choice but to shield Yue Wuhuan with his own body…

The heavenly silk robe was destroyed, his Nascent Soul severely wounded, and the left half of his body burned beyond sensation. Powerless, he fell from the sky like a leaf, drifting into Yue Wuhuan’s arms.

The natural order restored itself, and the tribulation clouds dispersed unwillingly.

Yue Wuhuan held the man in his arms in despair—No! This was not the ending he wanted!

His "Emotion Lock" could no longer restrain his collapsing resolve, and his breathing grew erratic.

Song Qingshi sensed something wrong. Struggling, he mustered the last of his strength, forcing words from his scorched throat: "Don’t… don’t grieve…"

Wuhuan, can you hear me?