Chapter 26

When it came to the matter of settling the little ones, she remained rather hesitant. If it had been just Little White alone, she could have formed a contract with ease. But with so many, she could only offer the lowest-level spirit beast contract, one that entirely favored her and placed the beasts in a position of subjugation. Even if these nearly sentient little creatures did not realize now what it meant, once they learned, they would hardly be willing.

For a moment, she was at a loss, hesitating as she looked at the small ones, their heads lifted to her in expectation.

Suddenly, Little Black hopped out of the basket, yawned, rummaged through its nest, and dragged out a tiny shard no bigger than a fingernail. It nudged the piece before Li Mengze, gesturing for her to crouch down. The moment she did and stretched out her hand, Little Black swiftly swiped her paw, and Li Mengze felt a sharp sting, as if something had been added to her heart.

A childish voice piped up, “Hmph, so foolish. Not our mother at all.” This was immediately followed by the crunching sounds of chewing.

Looking up, Li Mengze saw the little ones sharing the tiny fragment. It dawned on her—these siblings were not only born of the same parents, but had hatched from a single eggshell, not live-born. The small shard was a piece of the shell from which they had emerged, preserved since their birth. By dripping her blood upon the shell, she could form spirit beast contracts with all of them at once—equal contracts, no less. In an instant, she had five spirit beasts bound to her. Perhaps their parents had anticipated disaster and left behind this precious fragment; otherwise, it would be rare for such a piece to survive, for when spirit beasts break through their shells, the shell’s allure is almost irresistible—if not intentionally preserved, it is seldom left untouched.

It seemed their parents had foreseen their fate. Yet, why had they not prepared some food for their offspring? If she had not happened upon them, perhaps only a few starved little corpses would have greeted her.

After the contracts were sealed, Li Mengze found she could now communicate with the little beasts. According to their traits, she named them, in order: Little White, Big Treasure, Second Treasure, Third Treasure, and Little Black. Forgive her lack of originality—she truly could think of nothing better.

Having eaten, the little beasts, though somewhat weakened, would recover quickly with a few beast-taming pills. Their future health was secure.

No longer worried about exposing her space, Li Mengze waved her hand, collecting the nest and the little ones into her private realm, settling them inside a small building.

At first, unsettled by the sudden change of environment, the little beasts huddled together, glancing warily about. Once they confirmed there was no danger, they nestled obediently in their nest, not venturing out.

The moment Li Mengze entered the space, the little ones clamored around her, complaining noisily, accusing her of abandoning them in a strange place.

She appeased them with promises and apologies, assuring them she would inform them in advance of any future actions, and so won their forgiveness.

Once they were certain the space held no danger, the sturdier Little Black and Little White began exploring their new surroundings.

Since the space was safe, Li Mengze left them to their devices, her mind still on the moonstone outside.

Armed with her small hoe, she exited the space. She didn’t wish to resort to brute force—a burst of spiritual energy could have taken all the moonstone at once, but that would have caused too much commotion, likely attracting beasts or even cultivators, drawn by the lingering scent of jade marrow. So she chose to do it by hand—self-reliance yields abundance.

Wielding her little hoe, she muttered, “As long as the hoe is swung well, there’s no corner that cannot be dug out.” Perhaps thanks to her long practice clearing weeds and tilling land, her movements were deft—she didn’t seem to use much force, yet with each swing, a fist-sized chunk of moonstone came loose.

By dawn, Li Mengze wiped imaginary sweat from her brow, overjoyed. A night’s labor had earned her a year’s worth of cultivation resources, with surplus to spare. Even if she lay low for a while, she’d suffer no loss.

After storing all the moonstone and erasing any trace of her presence, she left the place.

She emerged from the mountain crevice during the darkest hour before dawn. Using that time, she hurried back to her resting place, hoping no one had taken it over. After all, that tent was quite valuable, and more importantly, it was a token of her parents’ affection. To have it taken by another would have been most unpleasant.

Li Mengze was notoriously poor with directions. After trying two wrong paths, she scratched her head and simply fished Little White out of her space.

“Take me back to where we came from.”

Little White, who had been cozily sleeping, squished among its siblings, was startled by the sudden summons. Smelling her familiar scent and hearing the inexplicable command, it gazed at Li Mengze with innocent eyes.

Li Mengze faced the tiny milk beast—barely the size of her palm—with righteous confidence. What, was a cultivator not allowed to be directionally challenged? So what if she couldn’t tell east from west? Was that her fault?

Compared to Little Black, Little White had a remarkably gentle temperament. Once it recovered from its startlement, it obediently led the way.

In no time, Li Mengze spotted her gaudy tent. Fortunately, no one had claimed it; her belongings were safe, and there was no need for confrontation or force.

Back within her circle of formations, she found the fire had long since gone out, but she paid it no heed. For a cultivator, starting a fire was a simple matter—done whenever needed, with no advance preparation required.

Having been busy all night, Li Mengze planned to stay put during the day. With a year ahead, she’d surely encounter her fellow disciples eventually. There were advantages to acting alone—freedom, no constraints.

Thus, Li Mengze treated this year as a vacation—a life of leisure and ease. Perhaps, when she returned, she could prepare for her core formation. She was confident in her talent. Though not the protagonist, often the supporting roles had even greater gifts and opportunities; what they lacked was intelligence and presence, and with her soul now in charge, Li Mengze lacked neither.

She left a trace of her divine sense—if anything or anyone touched the edge of her formation, she would know instantly—then entered her space. The little ones, nestled together in a heap of soft fur, were already asleep. They hadn’t bathed in a long time; while there was no odor, their fur was less than clean.

Since they were already asleep, Li Mengze decided not to disturb them with a bath—they were still too young. Luckily, there was no smell, or she’d have had to change rooms herself.

She set the basket aside and lay on the bed. Though the spiritual energy in her space was insufficient, it was enough for occasional cultivation.

During the day, she occasionally heard people passing by outside. The place truly was remote; just a few stragglers came through. Some tried to make conversation, but Li Mengze turned them all away. Though she appeared gentle and amiable, in truth she was fiercely solitary.

Among that handful, there were always the foolish who coveted her high-quality tent and formation. For such people, Li Mengze showed no mercy—dealing with them swiftly and leaving no future troubles or threats of betrayal.

After tossing the little ones into the spiritual lake for a bath, their white fur shone, their round bodies and naive expressions irresistibly adorable.

She spent the next day in cultivation. By early morning, she had packed away her tent and formation, ready to explore further.

To prevent getting lost, Li Mengze recruited a guide—Little White.

Though young and unfamiliar with the secret realm, Little White’s keen sense of smell ensured they would never lose their way as she did.

Guided by Little White, Li Mengze traveled swiftly and smoothly, soon discovering the little beast had the potential of a treasure-seeking mouse—indeed, perhaps superior. It could accurately identify the grade of spiritual plants within a certain range. Since no inheritance temples or ancient cultivator abodes had appeared, Li Mengze could not yet confirm if Little White could find true treasures, but even so, she was content. Treasure-seeking mice found anything with spiritual energy, but so many such items were worthless, wasting time. Little White, however, was different—her space gained many new and valuable additions, a delightful surprise.

Her communication talisman, however, remained silent throughout this period. Over a month passed as she traversed nearly the entire inner and outer layers of the secret realm.

Thanks to Little Black’s acute senses, they avoided much trouble. Still, fortune favors the bold, and one day, while gathering Fox Spirit Grass, Li Mengze finally met her match—the old adage held true: walk the night roads long enough, and you’ll meet a ghost.

She discovered the Fox Spirit Grass entirely by accident. For Li Mengze, it was a rather superfluous spiritual plant—not useful for alchemy, requiring painstaking care, and serving only as bait for capturing pure-blooded fox spirit beasts.

Its mediocrity notwithstanding, Fox Spirit Grass was coveted because pure-blood fox spirit beasts were typically of the seventh grade or higher, possessing innate charm abilities and superior cultivation talents—making them the contract beast of choice for many cultivators. Thus, the grass was precious.

Li Mengze’s little beasts were not pure-blooded; the grass held little allure for them. So, after Little White explained, she intended to bypass it. Yet, there were only two forks in the path—one led to the grass, where a group of cultivators had already arrived. They’d split into two teams: one to lure away the guardian beast, the other to harvest the grass. At first, all went well: one team drew out a pure black fox, while the second entered. Li Mengze concealed herself to watch, hoping to learn from their methods. But soon, the two who had entered came rushing out as though on wind and fire wheels, hotly pursued by a slightly smaller black fox—clearly a family member of the first.

At the sight of the smaller black fox, Li Mengze broke out in a cold sweat. The first fox had been a fifth-grade Xuantian Fox, equivalent to a human early Core Formation cultivator. That group had two at the peak of Foundation Establishment, the rest at late stage—enough to just about hold their own, so she had watched with a clear conscience, picking up tactics. But the smaller fox was sixth-grade, verging on a breakthrough, already half a step into Nascent Soul.

She wanted to yank Little Black out and shake her, demanding why she hadn’t been warned about the two foxes—she’d have been much more cautious. As the sixth-grade fox exited, she clearly glanced in Li Mengze’s direction—she’d been discovered.

Li Mengze hesitated, torn between fleeing and staying. In that instant, fate decided for her: the group luring the first fox led it down her only escape route.

Damn, were they even more directionally challenged than she was?

When fools meet fools, is it not the bold who prevails?

She felt a tug from the little beast in her arms, and a childish voice—putting on an air of maturity—spoke to her.

“Don’t go. I want what’s in there. I will grow up—it’ll be very useful.”

Li Mengze nearly fell to her knees. If only Little Black had said so before the sixth-grade fox appeared, she would have rushed in without hesitation. But now, the sixth-grade fox had spotted her. It had left her alone only because it had unfinished business; now, both black foxes had regrouped, and dealing with those hapless cultivators would take but a moment.