Chapter 44

But she was also curious—what sort of companions did these little ones have, to be so amusing? Bringing their fellow cubs to see her treasures: was this showing off, or was it just showing off? Either way, she was determined to restore these little ones’ pride in front of their friends.

She rummaged through her private stash and found a batch of Spirit Nourishing Pills she’d refined last time; these were of a higher grade than the Beast Nourishing Pills, and the little ones could now consume them. Without further ado, she took them out and divided a few pills among them. The moment she uncorked the bottle, the rich aroma of the pills immediately overwhelmed the scent of the Luminescent Grass, making the little ones instantly lively. Whatever the little creatures did with the pills, as soon as they got them, the Spirit Nourishing Pills vanished without a trace.

No sooner had she brought out the pills than she heard a susurrus from the grass—she now had a pretty good idea what sort of companions these little ones had. Their circle of friends was astonishingly wide, even crossing boundaries between species.

As their mistress, she felt a deep sense of pride. And in the future, should any of these little ones bring home an unusual mate, she wouldn’t be surprised in the least.

She looked again at the small, bright green snake on the grass, its little head raised to gaze at her. It was no thicker than her little finger and just the length of a chopstick, delicate to the extreme. Yet its form was beautiful, like a zodiac animal sculpted from pure jade—a work of art. Though she had always feared snakes, she could not resist such a lovely creature, especially now that it belonged to her.

Naturally, she wasn’t stingy and gave it a Spirit Nourishing Pill as well, which made the little thing positively ecstatic, its head bobbing repeatedly in gratitude.

She explained that she might be gone for a while, instructing her little ones to play nicely with their companions in the space, not to cause trouble, and to take care of the spiritual herbs in the medicine garden. With that, Li Mengze returned to her courtyard.

She carefully selected anything from her space she might need and packed it into her storage ring, preparing for any contingency. Having followed such an unreliable artifact spirit for so long, she had learned to always have a backup plan—otherwise, she herself would fall victim to its schemes.

After packing, she pressed close to the crimson portal, searching it for clues about her next destination. After all, from her experiences in two lifetimes, she knew there were many parallel worlds. If she ended up in someplace like a world of magical beasts or sorcery, she wanted to be prepared.

This thought reminded her—she pulled a handful of attack talismans from her storage pouch and slipped them into her storage ring. She was determined to embody the wisdom of always having multiple escape routes.

She searched for a long time, until her waist ached, but still found no clues. Ignoring the artifact spirit’s contemptuous expression, she changed into a set of immortal robes—not to show off, mind you, for she only owned two sets, gifts from her mother upon reaching Foundation Establishment. They weren’t just defensive; their greatest virtue was that they could change shape at will, ensuring she wouldn’t stand out however strange the world she entered might be.

She congratulated herself on her foresight, believing she was prepared for anything, no matter where she appeared. She failed to notice the artifact spirit’s schadenfreude; if she had, she would never have agreed to enter the portal right away.

Steeling herself, she reached out and pushed at the dazzling portal. Her whole arm slipped in without any odd sensation, followed by her leg, and then her entire body entered—head last. For a moment, only her head remained outside, which was a rather eerie sight. But that was just the effect she wanted. With a sinister chuckle, she warned the artifact spirit, “If you dare plot against me while I’m outside—heh, heh, heh.” Without waiting for a reply, she pulled her head inside as well.

Once inside the portal, she discovered that it was a world unto itself. The moment she entered, she felt as if she was cloaked in something warm and comfortable—far more pleasant than the aftermath of any cultivation breakthrough. She could even sense that her cultivation had advanced further.

Her heart was filled with both joy and alarm—joy because of the breakthrough, which solved the issue of emerging from seclusion without progress (her previous pace had already made her a young prodigy in all of Kunlun, and if she came out unchanged, she would surely attract suspicion); alarm because her cultivation had increased without any effort. Such a golden finger came at a price—what would she have to pay for this gain? She couldn’t help but worry about the risks hidden within this benefit.

After the portal’s transformation, she saw that the door she’d entered through had faded, and now, before her, a new door shone with brilliant light, beckoning her onward. She pouted—one door after another, and all just for her.

She glanced down—her elegant immortal robes had become a sackcloth getup, dull and grey. Yet after a careful check, she was reassured: the appearance had changed, but the essence remained her beloved immortal robe, still as comfortable as ever. If it had been destroyed so easily, she would have been furious.

Satisfied that the space wouldn’t betray her, she walked through the door. The instant she stepped forward, a memory flashed: she’d seen this outfit before.

Outside, she found herself in a wild, mountainous landscape. At her side, most fittingly, appeared a sickle and a bamboo basket. She heaved a long sigh at the sky—if the space hadn’t set her up, then it had certainly set her up well.

As for where she’d seen this outfit before—that went back to her past life. As a child of a revolutionary family, she had countless times listened to elders reminisce about their hardships, and seen old black-and-white photographs from their era. In fact, her great-grandparents’ only wedding photo featured just such attire, with this peculiar hairstyle.

Hairstyle! She gasped, searching her storage pouch for a mirror—none. After a moment’s thought, she calmed down, recalling that she’d tossed two mirrors into her storage ring last time.

She touched her middle finger to summon it, but nothing happened, and her heart sank. She’d already noticed how thin the spiritual energy was here—so sparse that even in the woods, she could sense almost nothing. Clearly, this was not a world suited for cultivation.

With the ambient spiritual energy so depleted, she could only open the most basic storage tool, her storage pouch—she’d banked everything on her storage ring, and now it was useless. Communicating with her internal space yielded a wry smile—she could sense the portal, but couldn’t enter her space through it. She was now utterly alone, with no idea when—or if—the portal would let her return.

She mustered the spiritual energy in her body, knowing it wouldn’t last long. Worse still, once depleted, she couldn’t replenish it simply by meditating as in the cultivation world. She exhaled—a year’s hard work, and now, in a moment, she was back to square one. But this, too, she could accept.

No mirror? She calmed herself and listened carefully. Not far away, she heard the sound of running water.

Thank goodness—her senses remained sharp, for the portal’s transformation had brought her to the peak of Foundation Establishment. She couldn’t easily mobilize her spiritual energy, but her physical state was unaffected.

She slung the basket onto her back, took up the sickle, and—had she not been so resilient—might have wept at her circumstances. Two lifetimes, and she’d ended up like this—a genuine village girl.

She’d already received the artifact spirit’s message: the portal was highly responsible. Her identity was set—just a sixteen-year-old orphaned village girl from Peach Blossom Village at the foot of the mountain, living in an age of warlords. The main difference from the era of the Anti-Japanese War was that this world had always been in a state of warlord strife, never changing, though people generally lived in peace—just poor, but safe.

She was somewhat content. Though it wasn’t truly Earth, at least the portal had sent her to a world with an environment similar to one she’d heard of—no total blackness.

A cultivator’s speed, even without spiritual energy, was far beyond that of ordinary people. She soon found the mountain stream hidden in the woods. The air was damp and fresh—though devoid of spiritual energy, at least it wasn’t thick with foul odors, something her nose, refined by two decades in the cultivation world, could tolerate.

Leaving the woods, she found herself before a clear stream, like something out of the Peach Blossom Spring. Petals drifted down onto the water, smooth pebbles showed through the clear current, and plump fish swam below.

She crouched on a large rock, gazing at her reflection in the water. Thankfully, her hairstyle wasn’t too strange—a thick, shiny black braid, her skin fair and lustrous. The same face, simply with a new identity. She could be philosophical about it—not everyone had the chance to travel through different worlds.

Since she was here, she would make the best of it. Alone, living at the mountain’s foot—simple and peaceful. Only, without spiritual energy, many things would be less convenient.

Watching the plump fish darting in the stream, each the size of her palm, she couldn’t help but recall the taste of grilled fish.

The weather was fine now, but come winter, it would be a different story. The artifact spirit had warned her—people had frozen to death in these winters. By then, she’d have to stay indoors and stockpile firewood beforehand. There was much work to do, and, even with her supernatural abilities, she couldn’t appear too idle.

Perhaps this was the artifact spirit’s idea of a boon—tempering her will. Nothing could be more real than this on the path of cultivating the heart.

Her shoes, too, were magical artifacts, now transformed into waterproof boots. She waded into the stream, waiting for the fish to swim by.

Perhaps because people seldom came here, the fish were unafraid. She caught four or five in no time, tossed them into her basket, washed her hands, and climbed ashore.

Following the route she recalled, she left the mountain. This mountain was the common property of Peach Blossom Village. Beyond the ridge lay the sea. During high tide, the villagers would go to gather seafood—fresh catches not only fed themselves but could be sold at market for pocket money, or gifted to friends and relatives in other villages. In times of famine, the mountain and sea had seen them through hardship. From June to August, fishing in the sea was banned, but gathering seafood was still allowed. Just thinking of the delicacies of the sea, Li Mengze felt that coming here wasn’t so bad after all—she hadn’t tasted seafood in ages. The seafood in the cultivation world were ancient monsters; she was lucky they hadn’t eaten her, let alone the other way around.

She stuffed some dry wood into her storage pouch along the way, and, hearing voices as she neared the foot of the mountain, took out a bundle of firewood to carry openly.

Her assigned identity was quite decent—good family circumstances. Her home was a brick house at the mountain’s base, with a large courtyard surrounded by nearly three-meter-high walls—secure enough, though she hardly feared for her safety. Who here could possibly match her in strength?

She looked at her fists and nodded—if ever she couldn’t support herself, perhaps she could try her luck at the local black market. She was sure the odds would be in her favor, and she could earn a fortune in a single bout.