Chapter 25

Several of the small beasts were so weak from hunger that they could hardly lift their heads. Li Mengze dripped some milk into her palm and held it to their mouths. Sensing the scent of milk, the frail little creatures trembled as they eagerly raised their heads and scrambled toward the nourishment. After licking hungrily, it became clear that their bodies were healthy, just starved. Once their bellies were filled, their spirits revived somewhat, though perhaps because they had suffered hunger for too long in their infancy, they seemed reluctant to let go of the food. Each one ate until its belly was round and looked longingly at the few drops remaining in the bowl.

Li Mengze refilled the bowl three times for the four little beasts, each time heaping it full. Examining their forms, she could tell that these young ones were likely mixed-bloods of foxes and something else. Of the five, only the little white one had pure white fur. The other four bore various markings: one had a white body and black limbs; another had black circles around its eyes, with the rest of its fur white; a third had a flower-shaped ring of black fur on its chest, the rest white; the last, most distinctive, was the strongest among them besides the little white, and had acted independently while feeding. Its entire body was jet black. Li Mengze guessed they were hybrids because their coloring was impure. Among all spiritual beasts, aside from the nine-colored divine horses, the fewer and purer the colors, the more noble their bloodline. In many clans, creatures like these would be abandoned. Upon inspection, Li Mengze thought these ones didn’t look abandoned; they likely had parents, but something unforeseen must have happened for them to end up like this.

Li Mengze was curious about which spiritual beasts could produce such a diverse brood. Due to cultivation, both demons and spiritual beasts had greatly reduced birth rates, so a litter with so many bloodlines was a rare phenomenon. She had a fondness for them, not just for the speed of the little white one, but for the brotherly affection among them. She was willing to care for them.

After feeding them, Li Mengze cradled them in her hands. “What will you do now? Are you coming with me?” She could have decided on her own, but seeing the intelligence in the little white one, she felt the others must be equally perceptive, so it was better to ask their opinion. Her space could easily provide for them, but she wondered if they would be willing.

Perhaps they understood her, as the little creatures huddled together, barely filling two palms. No wonder Li Mengze had initially mistaken them for mice. They squeaked amongst themselves, with little Black excitedly waving its tiny paws, showing none of its earlier exhaustion. Their vitality was clearly formidable.

Li Mengze watched their antics with amusement. In her heart, she considered whether to use force if they refused to go with her, or leave some moonstones for them outside as compensation—after all, those stones belonged at their doorstep. She felt a pang at the thought; so many moonstones, how many magical instruments could they enhance? If she gave them to her father and uncle, how many treasures could be forged? She had already claimed them in her mind.

Li Mengze had never experienced poverty in either her past or present life, but she was a peculiar one, loving the feeling of her purse overflowing, even if she didn’t spend it—just counting it brought comfort.

The little beasts’ discussion lasted neither too long nor too short, but the competition was fierce, especially between little Black and little White, who leapt and argued energetically. After a while, they seemed to reach an agreement. Li Mengze witnessed a fantastical scene: the two beasts, paw in paw, jumped from her hand, nodded to her, then little White circled its paws and patted its chest.

Strangely, Li Mengze understood its meaning: everything here belonged to it.

She surveyed the cave, puzzled. Aside from the heap of trash opposite, what treasures were here that the little one guarded so fiercely? The more spiritedly it behaved, the more curious she became about its true nature—it was so young and already possessed intelligence. Clearly, the other four were equally clever; little Black’s wit rivaled little White’s.

Li Mengze guessed one parent must be of the spirit fox clan, the other unknown. To test their intelligence, she handed a piece of cloth to little White and waited.

Little White hesitated, glancing at Li Mengze, who encouraged it with her gaze. Go on, let’s see what treasures you’re so attached to.

Realizing Li Mengze wouldn’t help, little White seized the cloth with one paw and grabbed little Black with the other. Unexpectedly, instead of heading toward the trash heap, the two dragged their nest, moving the others along with surprising effort.

Nothing special was revealed beneath, at least not to Li Mengze’s eye. Then she saw little Black fiddling; a small panel below shifted, and as it clicked into place, a rush of spiritual energy filled the air.

She peered closer and found a small pool of milky-white, jelly-like substance. In that instant, Li Mengze thought: what luck!

Who would have guessed a moment of kindness would yield such a windfall?

Li Mengze not only recognized but had tasted this before—it was the Longevity Spiritual Elixir, ten-thousand-year Jade Marrow. A thousand years forms juice; ten thousand forms milk. Now, congealed like jelly, it must be over ten thousand years old. Not only a treasure for extending life, it was the finest marrow-cleansing aid for children yet to begin cultivation, harmless to the body and imparting a sense of transcendence, though only within limits—the Jade Marrow contained immense spiritual energy, and overconsumption could rupture the meridians.

Years ago, Li Mengze’s parents used this to cleanse her marrow, granting her an extra century of lifespan before she began her cultivation path. It was the preferred choice for many cultivators when cleansing their descendants.

Now Li Mengze understood why these little ones possessed intelligence so young. It was partly innate; little Black and little White had always been stronger than their siblings, able to consume more, making them especially clever.

The two knew this was precious, eyeing the cloth and realizing they couldn’t store it. They squeaked at Li Mengze for help.

She couldn’t refuse now. She had brought plenty of small jade bottles for this trip—though small, each was inscribed with spatial arrays and could hold much. Using a small jade spoon, she collected all the Jade Marrow, leaving a small amount behind—one must always leave a thread for future encounters. Since Jade Marrow is generated by ten-thousand-year spirit jade, as long as it isn’t completely depleted, it will eventually regenerate. Li Mengze left a couple of drops for future fated visitors.

The two little ones relaxed once Li Mengze had taken the Jade Marrow, settling into their nest and looking up at her, pointing at the pile of scraps in the corner as if instructing her to tidy up. Their posture reminded Li Mengze of the word “pride”—though she couldn’t imagine how a fox could embody it, it fit perfectly.

Li Mengze glanced at the heap and dutifully carried the cloth over. It wasn’t that she begrudged space in her storage pouch—she had several empty ones—but the beasts were so small, even with spiritual energy, they couldn’t use the pouches, which were bigger than themselves.

The pile consisted mostly of unknown beast pelts, processed without any unpleasant odor, likely meant as bedding but unused. The pelts were soft, though some parts were missing, as if cut by a sharp object.

Beneath the pelts, things were a mess—beast bones, storage pouches, pure junk. Li Mengze didn’t check the contents, just tossed everything into her storage ring. These might be keepsakes left by the parents for their young; better to let them sort it out when they grow up. As for the Jade Marrow, she intended to keep it for herself—after the first use, it was useless to them, a mere luxury. But she could use it in alchemy, producing pills for breaking through bottlenecks. For the little ones, she’d gladly compensate with beast-nourishing pills.

Once she finished packing, Li Mengze faced a dilemma: she hadn’t brought a beast pouch, only her spatial domain to transport them. But they would grow, and who knew if someday they’d form contracts with others, exposing her space’s secret? Even if her space seemed insignificant now, who could guarantee it would remain so in a hundred years?