Chapter 5: An Unexpected Gain

“How do I use this ring?” Ji Yao did not let her previous thoughts show on her face.

“It’s simple—just recognize it with a drop of blood.”

After the ring absorbed her blood, Ji Yao found herself in a strange space. Meanwhile, in the distant Celestial Realm’s Lingxiao Pavilion, a man gently stroked the plain-colored ring in his hand, murmuring, “Master, sixty-five thousand years have passed. You’ve made me wait for so long.”

Ji Yao appeared at what seemed to be the center of this space. As far as her eyes could see, it was roughly the size of a large stadium. Three sides of the space were encircled by mountains, while the fourth was shrouded in mist. Beyond a mountain hollow lay a forest, and the rest was tilled land, though nothing grew there.

Before Ji Yao stood a bamboo house, its yard enclosed by a bamboo fence, and she was at the gate. Within the yard was a large, unknown tree, its thick canopy casting a deep shade. Beneath it sat a bamboo rocking chair and a bamboo table. About five meters outside the yard was a clear pond.

Pushing open the door, Ji Yao entered the bamboo house. The front hall, bedroom, alchemy room, forging room, study—all were complete. Each of the alchemy room, forging room, and study housed a bookshelf filled with books and jade scrolls; in the alchemy room, a cabinet brimmed with empty pill bottles and jade boxes.

Upon closer inspection, Ji Yao felt disappointed—all those pill bottles and jade boxes were empty. After wandering through, she found it odd that the rooms’ books and scrolls were all about pills, tools, talismans, and arrays, yet there wasn’t a single manual for cultivation techniques. Moreover, neither the alchemy nor forging rooms contained a furnace.

One would think that someone who prepared so thoroughly wouldn’t overlook the essentials. But at the moment, Ji Yao couldn’t dwell on it. She picked up a jade box and silently willed herself out, returning to the patch of Zhu Yu grass.

Seeing her emerge, Situ Jing said no more, controlling the Heaven and Earth Disk to sink into Ji Yao’s body once again.

Speaking of this, Ji Yao felt frustrated. According to Situ Jing, the Heaven and Earth Disk had accepted her heart’s blood, allowing it to hide within her body undetected—even Ji Yao herself had no idea where it was concealed.

Whenever the Disk was within Ji Yao, Situ Jing’s voice could directly sound in her mind. In fact, if Ji Yao wished, she could communicate with Situ Jing by silently thinking, no need to speak aloud.

But Ji Yao worried she might lose control and let Situ Jing know her thoughts, so, whenever alone, she still preferred to speak. With her modern mindset, Ji Yao always felt that everyone should have their own secrets.

She glanced at the Xumi Ring now on her left index finger and noticed the formerly plain ring had gained a crimson cloud pattern—a rather striking addition, though now more conspicuous.

If only it could turn invisible. As she thought this, the ring vanished from her finger, yet she could still sense its presence, though her hand could not touch it.

This was wonderful! It turned out that, after recognizing its master, the Xumi Ring responded to her will; whether storing and retrieving items or turning visible and invisible, it only took a thought. Wealth should not be flaunted, Ji Yao decided—since this artifact was hers now, not even its original owner could reclaim it.

Little did she know that, upon first meeting Ji Yao, Mu Tianheng instantly sensed the ring’s existence. But that is a story for another time.

Ji Yao tried to fill the jade box with Zhu Yu grass, thinking that, given her uncertain future, she would likely rely on eating grass to survive for some time yet. The excitement of obtaining the Xumi Ring was dampened by such prospects.

With this in mind, Ji Yao planned to plant some grass in the space’s land. With an unreliable big shot at her side, she transplanted a large patch of Zhu Yu grass, roots and all, to the pond’s edge inside the space, hoping to avoid starvation later.

‘Why are you planting that grass in the space?’ Situ Jing’s voice sounded impatient in her mind.

“Even a mosquito is meat!” Ji Yao thought the big shot must never have worried about money, unaware of how a single coin can defeat a hero.

She guessed right—Situ Jing, in two lifetimes, never once fretted over earning a living. Born with thunder spiritual roots, she enjoyed endless resources from birth; now, even more so.

After arranging the grass in the space, Ji Yao returned outside, only to see the same second-rank Wind Rabbit reappear nearby.

“Rabbit!” Ji Yao cried out and rushed to chase it.

This time, she saw clearly—the rabbit could teleport. In the blink of an eye, it moved five meters away to another burrow and vanished inside.

‘Now follow my directions!’ Situ Jing’s calm voice instructed.

Following Situ Jing’s guidance, Ji Yao searched along the way and stopped at a shaded cliff. Looking down, she saw a protruding platform about three meters below. It wasn’t large, but at the edge grew several herbs glowing with spiritual light.

“What are these?” Ji Yao, new to this world, was still a novice.

‘Purple ginseng. If my guess is correct, that rabbit must have eaten some rare spiritual item, causing its mutation. It seems it was the purple ginseng here,’ Situ Jing explained, finally revealing why she’d had Ji Yao follow the rabbit.

“Is purple ginseng rare?” Ji Yao leaned out farther and indeed spotted a small burrow in the cliff wall beside the stone platform, where a rabbit poked its head out, sniffing.

‘It’s not extremely rare, but aged purple ginseng is. Since it’s an auxiliary ingredient for many pills, it's highly sought after. Usually, it’s harvested before it matures, and the aged ones are cultivated by major sects. Wild ones like this are unexpected.’

“Oh. Then, senior, will you go harvest it?” Perhaps hearing Ji Yao speak, the rabbit withdrew into its burrow.

‘Not me, but you,’ Situ Jing’s voice was cool.

“I don’t have any tools. How am I supposed to reach the platform and pick the herb?” Though tempted, Ji Yao shivered at the cliff’s height.

‘I can lend you a rope,’ Situ Jing replied indifferently.

Before Ji Yao could protest, a glittering, exquisitely crafted rope appeared out of thin air.

‘Today, I’ll teach you a lesson. Cultivation is about forging your own path. You should be able to decide what to do. If you rely on others at every turn, borrowing strength for everything, then dying by another’s hand one day will be your own fault!’

This struck Ji Yao like a bolt, rooting her to the spot. Though she always thought Situ Jing unreliable, entering this world beyond her understanding, she couldn’t help but rely on her for solutions.

But as Situ Jing said, cultivation was Ji Yao’s own choice—what did others have to do with it? Benefits are external; without ability, nothing can be kept.

Ji Yao tied one end of the rope to a tree at the cliff’s edge, the other around her waist. She walked to the precipice, gauged the distance, and tugged at the rope.

‘Rest assured! This is the Immortal Binding Rope—its length is limitless, even immortals can’t break free. It’s definitely sturdy!’