The Great Limit Approaches?

With that, the Old Ancestor took a deep breath and his hands flew through seals at lightning speed.

Before their eyes, the vitality that had blazed like a rising sun upon his body began to visibly recede and lie dormant.

His skin turned dry and slack once more, his jet-black hair fading back to sparse, graying strands.

Even his once-straight spine slowly hunched over.

In just a few breaths, the spirited middle-aged man was gone, replaced by that lifeless, decrepit old man who seemed on the verge of breathing his last at any moment.

To make the act even more convincing, Zhang Tianzheng deliberately used a Secret Art to force a mouthful of stagnant blood up into his throat.

It made his complexion look even more ashen and sickly.

"Cough, cough..."

Zhang Tianzheng coughed harshly twice, his voice hoarse and raspy, enough to make anyone's heart clench: "Good grandson, tell me—with this old great-grandfather's acting, even if that old dog Wang Zhenyue of the Wang Family stood right before me, could he see through it?"

Zhang Chen gave a thumbs-up: "Absolutely flawless. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd have thought everything just now was an illusion."

"Alright, it's late. You head back first."

Zhang Tianzheng waved a hand: "I need a whole night to get used to this young body and the new strength. Tomorrow's Naming Ceremony, I'll crawl out on time."

Zhang Chen cupped his hands in farewell: "Then this Grandson will go prepare. This grand play—the curtain only rises tomorrow."

By the time he walked out of Dao Seeking Peak, the night had grown deep.

Yet Zhang Chen's mood was lighter than ever.

He made his way back through the winding corridors to the side courtyard.

Inside the room, Lin Qingxue was already fast asleep.

She lay on her side, one hand gently resting on the edge of the cradle, still keeping a protective stance even in her dreams.

In the cradle, the two little ones slept soundly, their tiny mouths occasionally twitching as if nursing even in their dreams.

By the dim moonlight, Zhang Chen quietly watched this scene.

A warm current surged in his heart.

This was his home, the deepest bond he had across two lifetimes.

"Don't worry."

He reached out a finger, lightly touched his son's chubby cheek, then tucked the blanket a little tighter around his daughter, silently making a promise in his heart.

"Father will give you both the best future."

The next morning.

A heavy, drawn-out bell toll shattered the stillness of the Zhang Family Courtyard.

But this bell wasn't as stirring as usual; instead, it carried a weight of twilight melancholy, like an old man's final sigh at sunset.

A voice, so weak it seemed on the verge of fading, wrapped in spiritual power, drifted intermittently to every corner of the clan.

"This old man... has emerged from seclusion."

Hearing that voice, the Zhang clan members all felt their hearts sink.

The voice was too faint, too frail—like a candle flickering in the wind.

As if it might go out completely at any second.

Many of the older stewards had red-rimmed eyes in an instant.

They could tell—the Old Ancestor's emergence from seclusion wasn't a sign of cultivation breakthrough.

But rather... that his time was short.

Zhang Family Courtyard, Assembly Hall.

Today's hall was decked out with unusual grandeur—red carpets laid out, golden incense burners wafting fragrance.

But no one's face held much joy. Instead, brows were tightly knit, and the atmosphere was suffocatingly oppressive.

Especially Family Head Zhang Yunshan, standing at the lower end, with dark circles under his eyes and a look of anxiety.

He had been too excited yesterday; only after calming down did he remember the Old Ancestor's physical condition.

Now, hearing that transmission, his heart felt half-frozen.

"The Old Ancestor arrives—"

At the doorman's loud announcement, every gaze snapped toward the entrance.

Two maidservants were carefully supporting Zhang Tianzheng as he walked in.

The Old Ancestor moved very slowly, each step as if dragging a thousand-pound burden.

His face was sallow, his eyes sunken deep. The once-majestic Nascent Soul Great Cultivator now looked no different from a Mortal old man on the brink of death.

Before he even reached the main seat, he stopped and broke into a violent fit of coughing.

"Old Ancestor!"

Zhang Yunshan cried out in alarm, rushing forward to support his father.

Where his hand touched, the skin clung to bone, and a biting chill radiated outward.

Zhang Yunshan's heart sank straight to the pit of his stomach.

"It's nothing... I won't die..."

Zhang Tianzheng waved a hand, his voice weak and breathless. Leaning on his son, he tottered over and sat down in the grand armchair that symbolized the family's highest authority.

He swept his gaze across the clan members below, his eyes murky and reluctant.

This act was so convincing that even Zhang Chen, standing off to the side, silently applauded in his heart.

If he hadn't personally witnessed the Old Ancestor swallow the Longevity Pill last night, he might have almost believed it.

"What are you all standing around for?"

Zhang Tianzheng took a labored breath, forcing himself to rally. "Today is a great day for our Zhang Family. Put some smiles on your faces, I say! Do you want me to look at your mournful mugs while I name my great-grandson?"

Hearing this, everyone could only force out a smile that was uglier than a cry.

"Bring him up here."

Zhang Tianzheng beckoned to Lin Qingxue, who stood to one side.

Lin Qingxue was dressed in full finery today. Though her body was still weak from childbirth, her noble aura was more pronounced than ever.

She and the wet nurse each carried a swaddled infant as they walked before the Old Ancestor.

Zhang Tianzheng stretched out his trembling hands and first took the baby boy.