Chapter 12: Earning Spirit Stones Is Essential

“Yes, I’m absolutely sure!” Ji Yao nodded, grinning mischievously. These days, she was more than willing to believe in fate; even a glance could be destiny, couldn’t it? Though the item was undeniably ugly, Ji Yao felt that this was the one. The key was that it looked cheap, but unique! As a keepsake, it would certainly leave a deep impression.

Ling Ru, unable to resist, stepped forward to ask the vendor about the price.

“Miss Ling, what are you talking about, asking me how much it costs! If you want it, I’ll give it to you for free. I picked it up to weigh down my stall anyway,” the old cultivator said, his face beaming like a chrysanthemum, radiating joy.

“That won’t do. You can’t buy something without paying spirit stones. Here are ten spirit stones—please accept them!” Ling Ru insisted.

The old cultivator didn’t argue, thanking her repeatedly and accepting the spirit stones, grinning so widely that his teeth nearly vanished amid the unfolding wrinkles on his face.

Ji Yao watched, tugging at the corner of her mouth in silent disbelief.

“Do you always buy things like this around here?” she asked.

“Is there a problem?” Ling Ru replied, handing Ji Yao the stone. Ji Yao examined it, then placed it in her storage pouch—though, in truth, she stored it beneath the great tree inside her spatial bamboo hut.

She glanced around at the other vendors. As expected! The others gazed enviously at the old cultivator, wishing Ling Ru had picked something from their stalls instead.

“Those ten spirit stones could buy anything on his stall,” Ji Yao remarked—not mentioning that there would be plenty left over.

“I know! I’m not foolish—I’m well aware of the value of his goods. But as the saying goes, you can’t buy happiness with money, right? Besides, it’s perfect—giving you something with a good omen!” Ling Ru waved her hand dismissively. “And anyway, I’m hardly short of spirit stones.”

“Of course! What a ‘you can’t buy happiness with money’—funny, considering how heartbroken you looked over spirit stones just now,” Ji Yao teased.

Ling Ru pretended to strike her, and Ji Yao hurriedly changed the subject.

“All right, all right, I’m hungry! Didn’t you say you’d take me somewhere delicious? Are we going or not?”

“Of course! Let’s go!” Ling Ru shot her a mock glare, then dragged Ji Yao out of the marketplace, leaving the vendors behind, watching the pair depart with regret.

Ji Yao had no idea what the ugly stone she’d taken was, but Situ Jing certainly did. On a later day, when Situ Jing saw the stone beneath the tree, she couldn’t help but marvel at the mystery of fate—and at Ji Yao’s luck.

Over the next few days, Ling Ru led Ji Yao through every street and alley of North An City. With Ling Ru’s help, Ji Yao sorted out the miscellaneous spirit herbs and medicinal plants she carried.

Ling Ru’s incredulous expression when Ji Yao handled the herbs was memorable.

Ji Yao simply replied, “I’m proud to contribute to society,” and walked away with an inscrutable air—at least, that was how she felt.

To Ling Ru, however, Ji Yao seemed utterly out of her mind.

After all, once someone began cultivating immortality, who would bother chasing after the paltry wealth used by mortals? Besides, Ji Yao was no longer penniless; she didn’t have many spirit stones, but she had some savings.

Perhaps it was Ji Yao’s sentimentality, a lingering sense of security from her previous life. With money and food in hand, there’s peace and calm in the heart; those days of struggling alone were hard to bear, and the memories remain vivid.

The last thing Ji Yao dealt with was the purple ginseng, the most valuable herb she possessed. Aside from the one she had already given away, she’d planted the rest in the soil of her spatial realm.

When Ling Ru was summoned away by her father, Ji Yao took the chance to return to the space. In the study of the bamboo hut, she discovered a jade slip detailing how to control the spatial land array.

It turned out that when Situ Jing’s disciple crafted the ring, they set up arrays in all cultivable lands within the space. Besides the usual Spring Rain Formation found in spirit herb gardens, there was also a time array layered over it. Though not powerful enough to make a day equal to a hundred outside, it was impressive: activating the array meant a day inside equaled a month outside.

Ji Yao didn’t know how to forge tools or set arrays yet, but nothing stopped her from studying books and jade slips.

To accomplish such feats, the artisan and array master would need to comprehend both time and space laws, and to apply them so precisely meant their understanding was exceptional.

Legends spoke of immortals who could move mountains and fill seas, creating worlds on their own—their realms must have reached the apex.

Ji Yao suddenly found herself fascinated by arrays. From a single formation and plot of land, one could see the omnipresence of laws. By harnessing an array, binding part of the laws for one’s own use, the array becomes one’s world—it’s no wonder that masters of arrays could stand alone against armies.

Of course, it was too soon for her—without guidance, it was hard to enter the field by herself. More importantly, her main task now was to accumulate spirit stones and hurry to Guangqiong City to take the entrance test for Lingyun Sect.

In the end, Ji Yao kept only the oldest purple ginseng and the roots of the millennium ginseng in the array, deciding to exchange the other three for spirit stones.

During her days wandering with Ling Ru, she bought many ordinary jade boxes for later use, and now, using them to store the purple ginseng, she hoped it wouldn’t draw unwanted attention.

Ling Ru was curious when Ji Yao placed four jade boxes on the counter.

All this time, Ji Yao had only brought out common herbs—fresh and full of spiritual energy, but ordinary shops wouldn’t normally purchase them, since every shop had its own sources.

Even so, the shopkeepers often accepted them partly out of regard for Ling Ru.

Now, seeing herbs preserved in jade boxes, Ling Ru couldn’t help her curiosity. Surely Ji Yao wasn’t so ignorant as to think any slightly better herb deserved a jade box? At least, less attentive shopkeepers thought so.

The manager casually opened the nearest jade box and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

A two-hundred-year-old purple ginseng—common, yet needing special cultivation, and indeed worthy of a jade box.

He opened the second box—another purple ginseng, this time over four hundred years old.

For the next box, the manager felt a hint of expectation. Sure enough, another purple ginseng, but this one was over eight hundred years old.

Before the shopkeeper could speak, Ling Ru, who had been watching closely, sprang into action.

Ling Ru snatched the third jade box from the manager’s hand and exclaimed in delight, “Ji Yao, why didn’t you bring out such treasures earlier?”

“What would you do with it? Old purple ginseng is rare, but it’s not impossible to find. With time, anyone can get it,” Ji Yao replied.

She remembered Situ Jing’s explanation; good as it was, it wasn’t truly rare.

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m an alchemist!”

Wait—had she? Ji Yao scratched her head.