Pregnant Cultivator, Doted by Big Boss

Celeste Grant and Javier Sinclair were lying together. She was currently nestled in the crook of his arm, turned on her side to look toward her son.

Her son had his own lounge chair, while Celeste Grant and Javier Sinclair were on a double one. At this moment, she was talking to her son, "My boy is getting more and more handsome."

Aaron Sinclair turned his head slightly and gave a faint smile. "Does that even need to be said? Only a beautiful mother like mine could give birth to such a handsome son, hahaha."

Seeing her son laugh made Celeste Grant happy as well.

After Celeste Grant came out of seclusion this time, her son had already shed his boyish immaturity. He was an adult now, with a build similar to Javier Sinclair’s when they stood together. His face was the spitting image of his father’s. However, compared to Javier Sinclair’s profound and demonic aura, her own son still looked very sunny and cheerful.

His personality was more like Celeste Grant’s.

She glanced at her son and couldn’t help but sigh with emotion. "Time really flies. In the blink of an eye, my son is already so grown up. I’m getting old, so old!" She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger. Her hair was black and glossy, and the skin on her face and body was as fair as a young girl’s.

"Just think about it. At my current age, if I were in the Mortal Realm, I’d definitely be an old crone with gray hair, wrinkled skin, and one foot in the grave."

The thought of that scene made her feel a little wistful. Cultivation was a wonderful thing, fulfilling a woman’s wish to stay young and beautiful, forever eighteen.

As her words fell, Aaron Sinclair, who was lying not far from her, rolled over and sat up. He turned to look at his mother. The woman before him had fair skin, a beautiful face, and a slender figure, looking perpetually eighteen or nineteen. Time had not left a single trace on her face. The term "old crone" really didn’t apply to her at all.

He held out his hand.

"Here, here... Mother dearest."

A mirror appeared in his hand, and he held it right up to his mother. "See for yourself, you’re drop-dead gorgeous. The word ’old’ doesn’t exist for you. Mother, if you walked outside now, you’d have no shortage of Cultivators staring at you. Besides, we’re Cultivators. Never mind a mere few decades or a century—even a few hundred years is nothing to us."

As he spoke, he suddenly grinned, pointed to himself, and said with a laugh, "Mother, by your logic, I’ve got half a foot in the grave too. Let me see... I’m forty-six this year. I’m old, I’m old too, hahahaha."

Watching the mother and son duo getting so worked up over their discussion, Javier Sinclair, who had been silent all this time, raised his hand and flicked it casually. An invisible force lightly flicked Aaron Sinclair on the forehead.

He raised a hand to rub his forehead, his gaze shifting to his father. "Dad, what was that for? Why’d you flick my forehead?"

Listening to their discussion, Javier Sinclair, who was over ten thousand years old, felt he had something to say. He tilted his head slightly, glanced at the mother and son, and said calmly, "Hearing you two go on and on about being old, I feel I have something to add. When it comes to age, I should have more of a say than either of you. Do you know how old I am this year?"

As his words fell, both Celeste Grant’s and Aaron Sinclair’s gazes landed on him at the same time.

Aaron Sinclair spoke up, "Dad, how old are you now? We knew your old age, but I really don’t know how old you are since you came back."

Celeste Grant also stared at him with a probing look. ’So, how old is his current body, exactly?’

Thinking of this, she asked, "So, darling, how old is this current body of yours?"

Javier Sinclair’s gaze shifted to Celeste Grant’s face as he calmly stated a number: "I am eleven thousand, eight hundred and ninety-six years old this year."

Hearing his age, Aaron Sinclair held up his hand and did a quick calculation. "Eleven thousand, eight hundred and something... All right, you win, Dad. You are indeed my father. Of the three of us, you’re still the oldest." ’Compared to my own father, my and Mom’s ages combined are really nothing.’

At that moment, all Javier Sinclair heard was that one phrase: "you’re still the oldest."

Javier Sinclair: "..." He gave a dry laugh and said, "I really have you to thank for that!" ’This is not something to be happy about at all.’

Celeste Grant: "..."

At that moment, she didn’t know how to describe her complicated feelings.

Celeste Grant sighed inwardly.

’Ladies, you probably won’t believe this, but my husband went from being a several-hundred-year-old Archfiend to a ten-thousand-year-old Demon. The only thing that hasn’t changed is that his face is still so dashing it made me fall for him at first sight.’

’Even though I knew before that he was over ten thousand years old, hearing it now, it still feels like a really big number.’

Thinking of this, she gestured with her hands and said, "Darling, you’re still on another level. Truly, in a league of your own. Your age is like an astronomical number."

Javier Sinclair: "..."

He grabbed her gesturing hand and placed it on his chest, saying, "The two of you combined don’t even add up to a fraction of my age. So if you both have one foot, or half a foot, in the grave... does that mean I’m already lying in the coffin with the lid nailed shut?"

His words made both Celeste Grant and Aaron Sinclair burst out laughing.

"PFFT—Dad, now that you put it that way, I suddenly feel like I’m still a baby."

"Hahaha! ’With the lid nailed shut’—that kills me!"

Seeing them laugh, Javier Sinclair couldn’t help but chuckle as well.

"That’s hilarious. But let’s drop the topic. We really have nothing to do with being ’old’."

After the laughter died down, Celeste Grant sat up from Javier Sinclair’s side and faced her son. "Sweetheart~"

The moment she spoke, Aaron Sinclair recoiled. "Mom, when you call me like that, it gives me the creeps. Just say what you want to say."

Celeste Grant leaned on one arm against the side of the lounge chair, giving her son a teasing look as she spoke. "Son, it’s been so long. While I was in seclusion, did you happen to meet any female cultivators you liked? How many of those Storage Rings from that sack I prepared for you have you given away? When you were little, I always thought that when you grew up, you could just give them away to any pretty little girls you met."

Meeting his mother’s leisurely and teasing gaze, he waved his hands repeatedly. "No, no, absolutely not! Mom, what nonsense are you talking about? I’ve been focused on Cultivation, where would I find the time to pay attention to that stuff? Giving a Storage Ring to every pretty girl you see is just wrong. I don’t want to get involved with so many female cultivators—that’s what a scumbag would do. A good man should be like Dad, faithful and devoted to one person for life. One wife in a lifetime is enough. Until I meet the one, I plan on staying single! Look at Dad, he was a few hundred years old when he met you. I’m nowhere near that; it’s way too early for me."

Hearing his son’s words, Javier Sinclair, who was lying next to Celeste Grant, blushed. His gaze swept over to Celeste Grant and met her smiling eyes, and he cleared his throat in embarrassment.