"Brother, you have worked very hard over the years. We are not of the immortal clans, lacking the deep resources. I think we should follow what Elder Xian suggests—let nature take its course. If he has a Spiritual Root, let's develop it properly. If he doesn't have one…"
Bu Chan couldn't help but bite her lip, her eyes reddening slightly:
"If he doesn't have one... it just means he is not that fortunate…"
Without a Spiritual Root, without Xiantian Qi and blood, it means forever remaining a mortal.
A hundred years later, transforming to a handful of yellow soil.
This thought, for Bu Chan who just became a mother, was unbearable.
Yet, she couldn't bear to see her Dao companion suffer even more.
After all, during these turbulent years, she was well aware of Wang Ba's struggles.
In such a dilemma, one had to sacrifice.
Looking at Bu Chan, Wang Ba felt a slight tremor in his heart.
Yet nothing was revealed on his face; he simply nodded:
"I understand, Junior Sister."
