Chapter 22

After cleaning the protective cover, she looked at the pond again and saw that it was utterly different from before. The rotten stench was now tinged with a faint, refreshing fragrance, and not far away, that pure white plant radiated a sacred light. Li Mengze smiled, recalling the saying that a lotus rises unstained from the mud and remains graceful amidst clear waters.

She couldn't help but marvel at her discovery—no wonder that strange creature stubbornly guarded this foul pond. Partly out of affection, perhaps, but surely also because of the lotus. Yet now, fortune had favored her. Li Mengze grinned slyly, unconcerned with the smell; what had seemed dispensable before now made her grateful for her earlier inspiration.

She wondered how the mud loach had found this place, but it was undeniable that beneath the pond grew an eighth-grade immortal lotus. Eating it wouldn’t grant immediate ascension, but it would certainly allow a breakthrough to a higher realm. For Li Mengze, even consuming it raw would be enough to advance from the late Foundation stage to the Core Formation stage—a treasure indeed.

At this time, nine lotus seeds were ripe, ready to detach from the lotus at any moment. Clearly, the mud loach had been waiting for this very instant. What a pity—it would benefit her instead.

Harvesting and storing immortal lotus was a simple matter. The only regret for Li Mengze was the insufficient spiritual energy in her storage space; she couldn’t cultivate spiritual plants above seventh grade. Such plants required abundant spiritual energy, and planting them might kill all others in her space. Thus, she could only preserve the lotus in a spirit-sealing box, to be taken out when cultivation became possible. Fortunately, the lotus was already mature, and its seeds usable as medicine at any time.

After harvesting the immortal lotus, Li Mengze quickly erased all traces of her presence and left the pond, heading toward her chosen destination.

Outside, dusk had already settled. Without a cultivator's keen senses, one could easily lose their way. Of course, her situation wasn’t much better—despite the vastness of the secret realm, the number of entrants made it unlikely to be alone for so long without encountering another soul. Whether this was good luck or bad, she couldn’t say.

Her chosen spot was a flat-topped hill, downwind and affording a clear view of the surroundings—a perfect place for both offense and defense, and an ideal camping site.

She started a small fire. Don’t imagine she had to chop wood herself—storage bags made such tasks easy. Processed spiritual wood was readily available for sale outside, with low-grade wood everywhere. Many mortals felled trees, chopped them into uniform blocks, and sold them. Cultivators often stocked up generously; several bundles could last a household a year or more.

Li Mengze used to chop wood in her storage space, but seeing it for sale on the street, she bought enough for a good while. The wood imparted a faint fragrance to cooked food, preserved its spiritual energy, and was affordable—a true bargain. Stored in her bag, it was always ready for use, a staple for both home and travel.

After lighting the fire, she set up an array around the hilltop—a small Four Symbols Array, a fifth-grade formation, quick and easy to deploy. Even a novice like Li Mengze could use it.

Once the array was in place, she set a spirit stone at its center. A humming sound rose, and soon white mist enveloped the hilltop. When the mist dispersed, everything looked unchanged, signaling the array’s activation.

With the array set, Li Mengze took out her luxurious, practical single-person tent from her storage bag. It had been enchanted by two renowned artifact masters, equipped with basic protective and weather-resistant formations, as well as illusion and defense arrays. Her mother had arranged the interior, including a spatial array. When unfolded, the tent appeared as a two-meter-long, one-and-a-half-meter-wide shelter, colored in tender pink and pale yellow—a choice made by Li Yunzan and Li Yunran, perhaps considering her age. It looked like the cherished possession of a beloved young girl, though Li Mengze herself wished for a pitch-black tent rather than this childish one—it screamed “underage” at a glance.

Thanks to the spatial array, the tent’s interior was easily divided into a living room and a bedroom, making it a veritable luxury suite. A night-luminescent pearl the size of a child’s head hung from the ceiling, bathing the interior in daylight brightness.

After organizing her resting place, Li Mengze began preparing her dinner. She took out a spice kit, set up a roasting rack over the fire, arranged various prepped meats, brushed them with a thin layer of oil, then honey—the honey was no ordinary kind, but brewed by Jade Bees atop Sword-Hidden Peak, sweet and exquisite, a favorite among the female cultivators there. Had Li Mengze not been young and of high rank, she would never have acquired so much.

Outdoor roasting couldn’t last long—even with the array, it was impossible to contain all the aroma. So after cooking enough for herself, she packed the tools away.

The plate of roasted meat smelled heavenly, and eating it brought no risk of gaining weight—a dream for any woman.

She forked a slice, just about to take a bite, when she felt a breeze behind her. As she reacted, she noticed the meat was gone.

Someone inside the array? That was her first thought. She rose quickly, backed against the tent, scanning the surroundings—nothing! But the missing meat couldn’t be a mistake. She waited a while, sensing no danger. Was it a prank?

Returning to the fire, she picked up the plate, intending to eat, when that familiar feeling returned. Sensing no hostility, Li Mengze didn’t dodge or counterattack. Instead, she quickly stored the plate in her space with a thought.

The unseen thief, having failed, made no attempt to hide. Landing on the ground, it squeaked at Li Mengze.

What was this? She looked—it wasn’t even palm-sized, uncertain whether it was a mouse or a fox. It stood on its hind legs, waving its tiny front paws, its furry face showing anger and grievance that Li Mengze found oddly amusing.

With a movement, another plate appeared, filled with fragrant roast meat. She tentatively offered it to the little creature, and sure enough, its eyes lit up. Where had this thing come from, able to enter her array undetected? If there were more beasts like this, rest would be impossible.

After extending the plate, she withdrew her hand, grabbed a slice for herself, and stuffed it in her mouth. Then, almost imperceptibly, a gust swept by, and her hand was empty. The little creature now clutched the plate’s edge, eyeing her warily.

What was the meaning of this? If it weren’t so cute, she’d have beaten it, maybe even caught it for sale. How brazen to claim someone else’s dinner!

Fortunately, Li Mengze wasn’t a naïve fourteen-year-old. Seeing the creature meant no harm, she ignored it. Though adorable, its speed made it difficult to catch, and Li Mengze had no desire to keep a spirit beast. She went to check the array for errors.

When she turned away, the little creature swiftly set the plate down, speared a piece of meat with its sharp claws, and stuffed it into its mouth, regardless of whether it would fit—a picture of long-standing hunger.

After confirming all was well, Li Mengze added more wood to the fire and sat on the opposite side, keeping a safe distance from the feasting creature.

The little one only glanced up when Li Mengze returned, and seeing she wouldn’t approach, it lowered its head and ate, ignoring her.

Watching it eat so heartily, Li Mengze’s stomach rumbled. Though cultivators didn’t feel hunger, she couldn’t stop her mouth from watering—was she making clothes for someone else, after all?

Luckily, she still had rice balls prepared from last time in her space. She took out two, fresh as ever, opened one, and began to eat.

The creature sniffed, seeming to catch the aroma. It sniffed left and right, finally raising its head to look at the annoying human opposite—how did she always have so many delicious things?

It glanced at the meat in its plate and at the rice ball in Li Mengze’s hand, unable to choose. Hesitating, it saw that in the time it took, the rice ball had disappeared from her hand.

It hurriedly put down the plate, scampered over to Li Mengze, nimbly hopped onto her lap, and pitifully extended a tiny paw.

Hmm? Was this eyeing both the bowl and the pot? She glanced at the plate set aside, then at the rice ball in her hand. She suspected this was some glutton reincarnated—the creature was smaller than the plate, yet the plate held a full adult’s portion, and it wasn’t finished before craving hers.

Seeing its bullied look, she relented. After all, she didn’t mind sharing; the creature appeared starved, its fur, once supposed to be pristine, now littered with dead leaves and no longer pure white, even showing signs of yellowing—clearly malnourished. It must be a beast cub, whose parents had met misfortune, forcing it to seek food alone.