Just as treasures of mixed kinds yield results according to their combined nature, so too do the fruits of our actions reflect the true character of what has been given and received. With this understanding, let us return to the tale as Mārkaṇḍeya relates it. After his journey, the king returned to his own city. There, he beheld the brāhmaṇa and his virtuous wife, both radiant with joy, their happiness a testament to the restoration of righteousness. The brāhmaṇa, his heart full, addressed the king: “O best of kings, I am fulfilled, for righteousness has been upheld. Through your understanding of dharma, you have brought my wife back to me.” The king replied with humility, “You, O best of brāhmaṇas, are fulfilled by your steadfastness in duty. But I remain troubled, for my own wives are not at home with me, O brāhmaṇa.” Hearing this, the brāhmaṇa questioned, “O king, if your wife had been lost to wild beasts in the forest, why did you not take another? Overcome by anger, you failed to protect righteousness.” The king answered, “My beloved was not taken by wild beasts; she lives, and her conduct is unblemished. How could I act otherwise?” The brāhmaṇa then asked, “If your wife is alive and faithful, what sin have you committed by treating her as if she were not your wife?” The king explained, “Though she has returned, O brāhmaṇa, she is ever distant from me. She brings sorrow, not happiness, and has no affection for me. I beseech you, please do something so she becomes devoted to me.” The brāhmaṇa, wishing to help, responded, “For your satisfaction, I shall perform a beneficial rite, one that unites those who desire friendship. I will make her friendly to you. Indeed, she is the supreme cause of affection between husband and wife, O king. I shall perform the tāntaveṣṭi rite for her and your child. Wherever your wife with beautiful brows resides, she will be brought to you, and she will gain the highest affection for you.” Thus encouraged, the king gathered all the necessary materials, and that noble brāhmaṇa performed the rite. Not once, but seven times, he repeated the ceremony for the king, seeking to restore harmony between husband and wife. When the great sage perceived that affection had blossomed in the queen’s heart, he spoke to the king: “Bring here, O best of men, the one whom this rite has drawn to you. Enjoy happiness with her and perform sacrifices with devotion.” Astonished by the brāhmaṇa’s words, the king remembered the mighty, truthful night-wanderer who had aided him before. At that very moment, as the king thought of him, the night-wanderer appeared, bowed to the great sage, and asked, “What shall I do?” After the king explained everything, the night-wanderer descended to the underworld, brought back the queen, and presented her to the king. Filled with great affection, the queen saw her husband and, overjoyed, repeatedly said, “Be gracious.” The king, embracing his proud wife, replied, “Beloved, I am already pleased—why do you ask again for my favor?” His wife spoke softly, “O king, if your heart truly favors me, then I ask you for this—grant me what I deserve.” The king assured her, “Speak without hesitation whatever you desire. Nothing is unattainable for you, O gentle one! I am wholly at your disposal.” She then revealed her wish: “For my sake, my friend was cursed by the serpent’s daughter and became mute. If you are able, out of affection for me, to restore her speech and free her from this affliction, will you not do this for me?” The king turned to the brāhmaṇa and asked what should be done to remove her muteness. The brāhmaṇa replied, “O king, at your command I will perform a Sarasvati sacrifice. Let your wife’s friend be freed from her debt and regain her speech.” The brāhmaṇa then performed the Sarasvati sacrifice with great concentration, reciting the hymns to Sarasvati. As a result, Garga, the queen’s friend, who had been mute in the underworld, regained her speech and declared, “This great and difficult favor has been done for my friend by her husband.” With her voice restored, Nanda quickly returned to the city, where she joyfully embraced her friend, the queen, and the serpent maiden rejoiced. She praised the king again and again with auspicious words, then took her seat and spoke sweetly: “O hero, the favor you have just done for me has won my heart. Hear now what I say. Your son, O king, will be of great prowess; his wheel of sovereignty will be unconquered upon this earth. He will be wise, knowing the essence of all sciences, and devoted to the practice of dharma. O intelligent one, he will be the lord of the manvantara—he will indeed be Manu.” Having bestowed this boon, the serpent king’s daughter embraced her friend and returned to the underworld. In the king’s realm, time passed peacefully as he enjoyed happiness with his wife and protected his subjects. In due course, a son was born to the great king, radiant and complete like the full moon on its brightest night. At his birth, all the people rejoiced; divine drums resounded and a shower of flowers rained from above. The sages, seeing his handsome form, noble future, and virtuous character, named him ‘Uttama.’ Born in that excellent lineage, at an auspicious time and with splendid features, he was known as Uttama. Mārkaṇḍeya concluded, “The son of Uttama, renowned by the same name, became a Manu. O Bhāguri, listen now as I tell you of his greatness.