Many children, many blessings: Stealing the offspring of powerful figures to cultivate immortality.

Three months later, in the backyard of the Jiang family.

"My little darling, you can't eat this!"

Mei Qiyun's voice trembled, and she almost knelt down.

Beside the stone table in the garden, a delicately carved little child held a dagger in his hand, opened his small mouth with only two front teeth, and was about to put it in his mouth.

That dagger was a top-grade magic weapon from the Blood Fiend Sect's treasure vault, capable of cutting through iron like mud, and its blade was coated with a deadly poison that could kill instantly upon drawing blood.

The little boy didn't care. His phoenix eyes were fixed on the dagger with curiosity. He gently flicked the purple arc of electricity around his little hand, and the poison on the dagger turned into wisps of smoke.

"Click."

He bit a nick into the hard steel of the dagger.

"Pooh."

Xiao Jianglei frowned and spat out a few pieces of iron slag.

With a stern, delicate face, he casually tossed the valuable, broken magical artifact on the ground and wobbled toward Jiang Yining with his short legs.

"Da Bao!"

Jiang Yining had just finished her cultivation when she was disturbed by the commotion.

She stepped forward, pulled her son into her arms, and put her fingers into his mouth to check.

"Did you break a tooth? Did you cut your mouth?"

Jiang Lei was forced to tilt his head back, his brows furrowed, and he grumbled in dissatisfaction, but he didn't push away his mother's hand.

In this house, besides Jiang Yining, anyone who dared to hug him like that would probably have their hair standing on end from the electric shock.

"Mother, you're dirty."

The little guy clearly uttered two words, his voice childish yet carrying a hint of detachment.

"You still look down on me?"

Jiang Yining found it amusing and slapped his chubby bottom.

"That's a ritual implement, not a teething toy. Are you a reincarnated rat spirit?"

Jiang Lei rubbed his bottom and pursed his lips unhappily.

He is only three months old, but his height is already comparable to that of a one-year-old child.

She had fair skin, a bright red mole between her eyebrows, and delicate features.

He never cries or makes a fuss, nor does he laugh often.

Even if he wets the bed, he calmly uses lightning to dry the sheets, and then continues to sleep as if nothing happened.

This overly meticulous nature is definitely not in her genes.

Before you become powerful, it's already very lucky to be able to get in touch with a highly talented big shot.

These minor flaws, such as being a clean freak or having eccentricities, can only be tolerated.

However, this child is growing up far too fast.

Fortunately, the grandmother had already imagined that the child's father was a demon and told everyone.

The growth process of demons is different, which is why it didn't arouse anyone's suspicion.

Sensing Jiang Yining's thoughts, the Myriad Spirits Divine Tree muttered, "This little fruit, of course, will ripen in a few months."

Now that he has the combined blood of you and that man, he's growing very slowly.

Thankfully, it was slow; otherwise, I would have become an adult in just a few months, and I really can't think of any excuse to cover it up.

Actually, this child likely has both human and plant genes, which explains the abnormalities in his development.

Oh well, she's already transmigrated to the world of cultivation, so nothing strange is strange anymore.

After all, it's a baby that came from my own belly.

Jiang Yining paused, her gaze falling on her son's purple-gold eyes, momentarily lost in thought.

She sighed and put her son on the ground.

As soon as Jiang Lei landed, he strode towards a pile of miscellaneous items in the corner of the yard.

There was a sword lying there.

It was an ordinary iron sword, the one Jiang Yining used to kill Zhao Wuji that night.

Although it had been tempered by lightning, it was still essentially a piece of ordinary iron, now covered in rust and even the blade was bent.

Compared to the gleaming spirit swords in the warehouse, this sword is nothing more than junk.

But Jiang Lei prefers this one.

He walked to the iron sword, gripped the hilt tightly with his small hands, lowered his legs slightly, and used all his strength.

"rise."

A soft, childish shout.

The iron sword, which was taller than him, wobbled, and he lifted it off the ground with one hand.

Although the tip of the sword dragged on the ground, his grip on the sword was perfectly correct.

His fingers gripped the hilt firmly, his thumb and forefinger pressed together, and his wrist lowered.

"Zheng—"

The rusty iron sword emitted a soft hum, and a faint layer of sword energy flowed down Jiang Lei's arm and covered the blade.

Jiang Yining leaned against a pillar, watching her son clumsily wield his longsword.

A scene seemed to appear before her eyes: many years later, a young man carrying this broken sword, expressionlessly challenging various geniuses in the cultivation world.

"Will this kid take a sword and chop his dad up in two someday?"

Jiang Yining touched her chin, finding the scene rather amusing.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps interrupted her thoughts.

"Master!"

Jiang Hu was panting heavily, his face full of anxiety, and he even forgot to perform the proper etiquette.

"This is terrible! That deacon from the Lingxiao Sword Sect... he forced his way in! We can't stop him!"

The smile on Jiang Yining's lips vanished.

She had expected this day to come, but she hadn't expected the man to be so rude.

"Force their way in? What do they take our Jiang family for?"

She had been leaning lazily against the pillar, but now she stood up straight, and the atmosphere around her changed completely.

"Elder Mei, please continue. I'll go to the front hall to take a look."

……

Inside the lobby.

In the main seat sat a young man dressed in a moon-white robe.

He was around thirty years old and had a fairly handsome face, but his high cheekbones and downturned mouth ruined the harmony of his face.

A golden auspicious cloud was embroidered on the cuff, which was the symbol of the Lingxiao Sword Sect.

At that moment, he was holding a teacup, impatiently blowing on the tea foam.

"In this remote and impoverished place, there isn't even a decent cup of spiritual tea."

He casually threw the teacup on the ground, and it shattered with a "crack".

"Why hasn't the Jiang family head arrived yet? What an arrogant attitude! Do I have to go and invite her myself?"

Standing to the side, Steward Zhao bowed, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and said with a fawning smile, "My lord, please calm your anger. My master is changing his clothes and will be there shortly, very shortly..."

"snort."

The butler snorted unhappily, his gaze sweeping across the hall as if he were estimating the price of each item.

As an outer sect steward, he held a low position within the sect and rarely gained any benefits.

I was tasked by the sect to investigate the thunderstorm phenomenon in Qingyun City. I thought it would be a tough job, but I didn't expect there to be a nouveau riche here who had just swallowed up two major forces.

Isn't this just a lamb delivered to their door?

With the Lingxiao Sword Sect as their backer, these smaller sects probably wouldn't dare to rebel.

Just then, a female voice, whose tone was unreadable, came from behind the screen.

"I was unaware of your arrival, Immortal. I apologize for not welcoming you properly."

Jiang Yining and Shi Ran walked out.

The steward looked up and his fingers, which were holding the teacup, trembled slightly.

A faint yet incredibly familiar scent made his heart tighten.

Its aura was aloof and cold, like the snow-capped peaks that never melt.

This aura... how come it's somewhat similar to that legendary Supreme Elder of the sect?