Chapter 4: Reduced to Eating Only Grass

Aside from the day and night since her own rebirth, this body hadn’t eaten in who knew how long. Now, Ji Yao felt as though a fire blazed in her stomach, so fierce she could only wish to curl up into a ball.

“I haven’t felt hunger in a long time,” Situ Jing’s voice held a trace of nostalgia.

“What I have now are mostly things from the Celestial Realm. With your untrained mortal body, even a tiny bit would probably cause your body to explode.” The words dripped with disdain.

“I know that in the forest outside this cave, there is a patch of Blessing Grass, the main ingredient for fasting pills. Even a mortal who eats just one blade of Blessing Grass won’t feel hungry for three days.” This was stated with absolute certainty.

“If all your wounds were healed, I could take you there right now.” The tone was slightly innocent.

If she could swear, Ji Yao felt she would curse a hundred times in her heart without hesitation! Powerful beings like this, truly not something mortals like her could provoke!

At this moment, Ji Yao no longer cared that the warm spring was her own bathwater; she could only bury her head in it, desperately drinking until her belly was full of water.

Who was it who said, “With fortune in hand, the world is yours”? Rubbish! The real saying should be, “With a powerful backer, you walk the world sideways!” I swear, no one can defeat you!

Yet with a powerful backer, she had fallen to the point of eating grass! Starved to the point of fainting, she could only fill herself with water! Ji Yao had spiraled into a frenzy of internal complaints from which there was no escape.

Finally, after healing the last scars on her face, Ji Yao dragged her “feeble and frail” body, stooped over, toward the Blessing Grass.

The world is vast, but nothing matters more than filling your belly!

When Ji Yao squatted before a large patch of grass shaped like chives, she was already dizzy, her eyes swimming, tears streaming down her face. It was truly no easy feat to find something to eat!

Chewing the tender leaves of the Blessing Grass, Ji Yao watched a rabbit, the size of an adult’s palm, come hopping over to nibble the grass as well, her eyes glinting green with hunger. Oblivious, the rabbit munched happily, its three-lobed mouth twitching.

I want to eat meat! Ji Yao lunged like a starving wolf, but in a flash of light and shadow, the rabbit vanished. Looking ahead, five meters away, she caught a glimpse of a little rabbit tail disappearing into a burrow.

“Strange, there’s actually a Wind Rabbit of the second rank here. Normally, Wind Rabbits are only first rank, about the size of ordinary rabbits.” Situ Jing’s voice delivered a lesson in her mind.

“If it comes out again later, follow my directions and we’ll track it.”

“Are we going to catch it?” Ji Yao was a bit excited and surprised that Situ Jing would help her hunt a rabbit—could it be he knew she wanted meat?

“You’re overthinking it. Even a first-rank Wind Rabbit is beyond you in your current state, let alone a second-rank one.” Situ Jing dashed her hopes without mercy.

“What’s the point of following it then?” Only after swallowing three blades of Blessing Grass did Ji Yao finally free herself from the ever-present hunger.

Looking at the patch of Blessing Grass, Ji Yao decided to gather as much as she could—heaven only knew how long it would take her to leave these mountains. With her current weak arms and legs, hunting was impossible, and as for foraging wild fruits, she feared she’d just end up poisoning herself.

Situ Jing watched in silence as Ji Yao, clad only in her inner garments, busied herself, using her outer robe as a sack to collect grass. Was this truly his tribulation’s destined opportunity? If not for the strong sense of connection and the soul artifact’s choice, Situ Jing would have doubted he had found the right person.

Yet the will of Heaven is a subtle thing; since it offered clues, it shouldn’t be wrong. Besides, his soul’s awakening was not unrelated to Ji Yao—every cause has its effect. For now, all he could do was hope things would go smoothly.

“Why are you gathering so much?”

“To eat, of course! And if I can’t finish it, I can sell the rest!” Ji Yao replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You won’t be able to take it out like this. In a few days it’ll be nothing but dry grass.”

“Won’t the apothecaries still buy it?” Ji Yao began to suspect her knowledge might be lacking.

“This is spiritual grass!” Situ Jing emphasized.

And then? Ji Yao was at a loss.

Seeing Ji Yao unresponsive, Situ Jing felt an urge to knock her on the head. How many years had it been since he’d felt emotion leak out? No, deep breaths, inhale, exhale...

“Good spiritual herbs must be kept in specially crafted jade boxes to preserve their spiritual energy. Only then can the quality of pills be assured during alchemy. Even ordinary spiritual herbs should at least be stored in a storage pouch. Herbs that have lost their spiritual energy are useless.”

Situ Jing paused, then added, “Spiritual energy lost, the grass serves no purpose.”

Ji Yao was filled with resentment. She was certain she was being laughed at—she wanted to retort, but dared not. She feared the powerful one would hold a grudge and set her up later.

She simply hadn’t adjusted her mindset yet, still thinking the way she had in her past life. But she had no choice—she had no such items!

She replied evenly, “The two things you mentioned, senior, I don’t have. If you have a storage pouch, may I borrow it?”

The Qian Kun Disk flew out from within Ji Yao’s body, circled around her once, and then stopped about a foot in front of her, tapping lightly.

“Did I not tell you that the Grand Sumeru Qian Kun Disk is not only a divine artifact, but also contains a world within itself?”

Ji Yao was beginning to understand how these powerful ones liked to speak—never directly, as if being cryptic somehow made them loftier.

Yet sometimes, it truly drove her mad; guessing their intentions was exhausting! And if she guessed wrong, she’d just get a heap of disdain. In moments like these, Ji Yao decided that silence was golden.

Sure enough, after a pause, Situ Jing’s voice came, tinged with disdain.

“Fine, fine, I don’t have such lowly storage items either. Take this and use it.”

A moon-white speck of light flew from within the Qian Kun Disk and landed in Ji Yao’s palm.

She realized that her powerful companion seemed fond of moon-white. But now was not the time to be distracted—anything given by this being was bound to be extraordinary! Looking down, she saw it was a plain ring, neither jade nor stone, yet the material seemed oddly familiar.

Ji Yao looked up at the Qian Kun Disk floating before her. As expected!

“This is a Sumeru Ring, made from the same material as my Grand Sumeru Qian Kun Disk. My disciple, A Heng, acquired this material by chance and crafted this ring. Before descending to the mortal realm, he gave it to me. I glanced at it and stowed it away, only just now remembering it. Since I have no use for it, you may have it.”

From this, Ji Yao sensed something unusual. Having lived twenty-some years in her past life, and read her fair share of romance novels, she knew this trope well. She could bet that Situ Jing’s disciple was definitely a man, and as for this ring, if not for the sake of avoiding suspicion, then he must have had intentions toward the powerful one. As for what those intentions were—well, well...

What Ji Yao didn’t know was that two rings had been forged in the beginning. The one she received was a woman’s ring; the other, a man’s. When the two rings met, the inner band would reveal two characters each.

On the man’s ring: “Heart’s Joy.” On the woman’s: “For You.” Together, they read: “My heart finds joy in you.”

Alas, as the saying goes, “There are trees in the mountains, but their branches do not meet; my heart delights in you, but you do not know.” And you do not know…