She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar

As soon as the two stepped out of Zhaoxinju's doors, Sang Ji scooped the little girl up into his arms, bouncing her excitedly.

Yan Luoyue widened her eyes at him. "You’re thinking of tossing me up again, aren’t you?"

Admit it—when a crocodile wants to play "toss the kid," the telltale signs are impossible to hide!

"Haha, just a habit from roughhousing with the boys at home. Didn’t mean to." Sang Ji chuckled sheepishly, swiftly steering the conversation elsewhere. "That gilded plaque the shopkeeper gave you—it must be because of your sharp eye during purchases. They recognized your talent. My little sister’s amazing, even something as ordinary as shopping turns into…"

Mid-sentence, Sang Ji swallowed the rest of his excited words.

Following his gaze, Yan Luoyue’s heart skipped a beat the next second.

Across the street, at the entrance of a grand shop, a tall, gaunt middle-aged cultivator was lifting the hem of his robe as he stepped over the threshold of Lu’s Pavilion.

That cultivator’s face was all too familiar—he was the very same leader who, not long ago at Moonlit Market, had hunted a small green snake, vowing to skin it alive to make a brush rest for his young master!

The man was meticulous to a fault. Even when dealing with a little demi-human girl, he’d first tried to intimidate her, then insisted on checking beneath her robes.

The moment Yan Luoyue saw him, she instinctively wanted to turn away, but Sang Ji was quicker. With a hand over her mouth, he gently but firmly held her small chin in place.

A heartbeat later, his voice, deliberately casual, floated above her head.

"...even something as ordinary as shopping turns into luck. To celebrate my little sister’s good fortune, let’s go to a teahouse for some tea and pastries."

"Come on, your big brother’s treating you. Don’t sulk—look at me, okay?"

Only then did Sang Ji slowly release her chin, signaling for her to turn her head and rest it against his shoulder.

Yan Luoyue understood instantly and obeyed.

With his little sister in his arms, Sang Ji strode briskly into the nearest teahouse.

His act was convincing at first, but the moment they crossed the threshold, his steps grew hurried, as if a ghost were chasing him.

It wasn’t until they were seated in a private room on the second floor, with no sign of pursuit, that Sang Ji finally exhaled in relief.

"Whew—thank goodness, little sis. Thank goodness your other brother didn’t tag along today."

Even in a cacophony of noise, a person can instantly recognize their own name.

And for high-level cultivators, that ability is even more acute.

Their spiritual senses are sharp, hyper-aware of any gaze or whisper directed their way.

Glancing at someone and then looking away leisurely, like Sang Ji and Yan Luoyue had done, was the behavior of ordinary passersby—nothing noteworthy.

But if Yan Luoyue had jerked her gaze away abruptly, it would’ve betrayed guilt and drawn attention.

So, it was a blessing Yan Gan hadn’t come.

That straight-talking fool would’ve blurted out, "Hey, isn’t that the guy who—?" and instantly painted a target on their backs.

This wasn’t Moonlit Market, where demi-humans held sway. This was Ruyi City—human territory.

The teahouse and Lu’s Pavilion formed a diagonal line. From their second-floor booth, they had a clear view of the pavilion’s main hall.

Pretending to admire the scenery, Yan Luoyue let her gaze drift intermittently toward Lu’s Pavilion.

The moment the leader cultivator entered, the pavilion’s manager rushed forward to greet him.

The two were clearly well-acquainted. The manager ordered tea, arranged for servants to bring snacks, and exchanged a few words before the cultivator handed over a storage pouch. The manager then personally escorted him to the door, waving as he departed.

Only when the cultivator was truly gone did Sang Ji relax.

Handing the tea menu back to the waiter, he said, "A pot of clear tea and these pastries, please."

"Right away, sir."

"Wait." Yan Luoyue’s crisp voice stopped the waiter. "My brother and I are new to Ruyi City. Any recommendations for shopping?"

The waiter slung his towel over his shoulder and grinned. "What a coincidence! Right outside our teahouse, just a few steps ahead, Zhaoxinju and Lu’s Pavilion are both excellent places to shop."

Yan Luoyue clapped her hands. "Lu’s Pavilion—I recognize those characters! Big brother, isn’t that red seal stamped with 'Lu Half-City'?"

"Young miss is sharp as a tack! The Lu family owns half the businesses in Ruyi City. The shops we rent? Lu’s. The goods we buy? Lu’s. Even the city lord’s son-in-law is a Lu. 'Lu Half-City' is no exaggeration."

"Oh?" Sang Ji tossed a handful of spirit coins onto the table. "If the Lu family’s so powerful, how dare Zhaoxinju build such an imposing shop right across from them, challenging them head-on?"

The waiter pocketed the coins with a grin. "You’ve got it backward. In terms of seniority, Lu’s Pavilion came later. Twenty years ago, the Lu family produced an extraordinary young master—that’s when they rose to become 'Lu Half-City.'"

According to the waiter, the Lu young master was a prodigy.

He reached Qi Refinement at three, Foundation Building by twenty-two, and at fourteen, he’d mastered artifact forging on his own, becoming an exceptional craftsman.

Now twenty-four, his talent was peerless, capable of forging Spirit-grade treasures with ease.

Most of the Lu family’s wealth came from the young master’s craftsmanship.

As he spoke, the waiter’s face glowed with pride, as if sharing in the glory. Even Sang Ji couldn’t help but look impressed.

Only Yan Luoyue frowned slightly.

She didn’t know this world’s standards for artifact forgers, but no matter how gifted the young master was, his arrogance was inexcusable.

Just because he wanted a brush rest, he’d sent men to hunt down a harmless little snake, ransacking Moonlit Market.

Back then, she’d thought the leader cultivator was insufferably haughty.

Now, seeing "Lu Half-City" stamped boldly on official seals, she realized the Lu family’s domineering attitude was even worse on their home turf.

Just then, the teahouse storyteller struck his wooden block and cleared his throat.

"Today’s tale is about the Lu young master’s latest Spirit-grade treasure."

"As all patrons know, magical treasures are ranked in six tiers. The upper three—Celestial, Heavenly, and Earthly—can nurture artifact spirits. The lower three—Spirit, Mystic, and Yellow—lack that potential. In this world, one who can forge Spirit-grade treasures is already worthy of the title 'Grand Artisan'…"

Yan Luoyue was listening intently when a heckler’s voice rose from the first floor.

"Hey, Old Tea-man! We know the boss rents from the Lu family, but must you drone on about the young master every single day? Give us something fresh—stop rehashing the same stale crumbs!"

The first-floor crowd erupted in agreement.

Sang Ji leaned in close to whisper in Yan Luoyue’s ear: "Honestly, I’d still like to hear it."

Yan Luoyue nodded silently.

But the storyteller clearly had to prioritize the majority’s opinion.

With an apologetic smile, he clasped his hands and bowed to the audience. "Very well, as you wish, good patrons. This old man shall share some recent news instead."

"Now, some three hundred miles from Ruyi City, there’s a sect called the Canglang Sect, where every disciple is a body cultivator. These Canglang Sect members can uproot willow trees with their bare hands, their arms bulging with muscles like forged steel..."

The Canglang Sect—wasn’t that the very sect they’d struck a pill-supply deal with?

Instinctively, Yan Luoyue straightened her back and pricked up her ears.

The storyteller’s words flowed like a river: "...Recently, it’s said the Canglang Sect obtained a miraculous medicine. Whenever their disciples get injured in a duel, they apply this black-jade-like ointment, and wounds seal instantly, broken bones mend on the spot, torn flesh knits together, and stagnant blood disperses. And what, pray tell, is the name of this divine remedy?"

The listeners were enthralled, eagerly pressing: "What’s it called? What’s it called?"

Yan Luoyue and Sang Ji exchanged glances, snickering like little mice stealing oil: Of course, it’s called *Sweet Delicious Cake*.

*Whack!* The storyteller slammed his gavel.

"And lo, the name of this miracle cure is—*Little Turtle Ointment*!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Right, right! Body cultivators always call their tough hides ‘turtle shells,’ so this name is both cheeky and fitting!"

Amidst the tea house’s uproarious laughter, Yan Luoyue’s smile froze before it could fully form.

—Wait, hold on! Explain yourself!

How did a perfectly good ointment become *Little Turtle Ointment*? Where’s the turtle in this?!

She refused to accept this!

When Sang Ji brought Yan Luoyue back to the Turtle Clan’s territory, Yan Gan had already been waiting at the entrance, craning his neck for ages.

He reached out to take Yan Luoyue, but Sang Ji grabbed his wrist.

"Hold on, buddy. There’s something I need to tell you first."

"What is it?" Yan Gan gave him a puzzled look. "I also have something to tell my sister."

"It’s important. Just come here."

Sang Ji pulled Yan Gan aside and recounted their encounters outside, especially emphasizing the arrogance of the Lu family and their leader.

"So next time we go to Ruyi City, if we run into that guy again, you can’t stare him down like last time."

"Also, the Lu family seems relentless, so in a couple of days, let’s hit the Moonlit Market and get some disguises. We can’t let them recognize your sister again."

Once Yan Gan agreed to everything, Sang Ji finally released him.

"By the way, what did you want to tell your sister?"

Yan Gan pointed toward the clan’s interior. "Our Elder just woke up from hibernation today and started teaching the clan’s children. I wanted to ask if she’d like to attend."

...

Of course, Yan Luoyue wanted to attend.

Even though she was already enrolled in the Guiyuan Sect’s school, the Turtle Clan’s specialized guidance was far more tailored to her needs.

For someone like her, on the verge of breaking through from the early to mid Qi Refinement stage, this lesson was unmissable.

Setting aside her tinkering with artifacts for now, Yan Luoyue perked up and hurried straight to the clan’s schoolhouse.

She arrived slightly late. The classroom was already packed with young turtles.

Compared to the other children in the room, Yan Luoyue was clearly the youngest, the roundest, and the stubbiest-limbed of them all.

No surprise there—most of the turtles hatched in her batch were still at home chewing on their own toes.

The Elder, his brows and beard snow-white, sat serenely on a cushion at the front of the room. He didn’t scold Yan Luoyue for being late, merely offering a kindly smile.

His long, white beard shifted as his voice emerged, slow and unhurried.

"Don’t—rush—. Just—find—a spot—and sit—."

By the time the Elder reached the word "rush," Yan Luoyue had already settled onto a cushion. By the time he finished with "sit," she’d been sitting upright for a good half-cup of tea.

Rubbing her nose discreetly, Yan Luoyue mused: *If this were a game, the Elder would have a built-in delay on every action.*

Thankfully, the Turtle Clan didn’t hold flag-raising ceremonies.

Otherwise, if the Elder were invited to give a speech, an eight-hundred-word draft would take him from dawn till dusk.

The Elder’s affectionate gaze swept over the young turtles’ faces as he asked, leisurely: "Is—everyone—here—?"

Influenced by his pace, the little turtles also drew out their words.

"Yeees—."

"Good—," the Elder said warmly. "Then—we—shall—begin—the lesson—."

The sage-like old man dusted his robes with deliberate slowness, then took a sip of tea.

Yan Luoyue watched as the sunset’s glow crept from her wrist to her knees.

"Listen—to me—. The—first—principle—of—Turtle Clan—cultivation—is—to—live—."

Yan Luoyue: "..."

*Listening to you is like listening to you.*

Surely, "living" was the prerequisite for cultivation in every race. Did that really need to be spelled out?

But then, the Elder continued, at his own pace: "Now—, let’s—all—experience—the state—of—living—."

Yan Luoyue: "..."

*Listening to you twice is like listening to you twice.*

She glanced around and saw that her confusion was shared—the little turtles nearby were practically radiating question marks, their expressions meme-worthy.

Yan Luoyue waited and waited, but the Elder said nothing more.

So she focused on her breathing, then the flow of spiritual energy through her meridians, and finally the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind.

By the time she’d checked all these boxes, a glance around the room made her lips twitch involuntarily.

By now, several of the younger turtles had been lulled to sleep by the Elder’s glacial pace.

At last, the Elder spoke again.

"The—second—principle—of cultivation—is—to live—freely—."

"Now—, let’s—experience—the state—of—living freely—."

Yan Luoyue: "..."

She had no idea what "living freely" was supposed to feel like.

All she knew was that this lesson could be titled: *Live long enough as a turtle, and you’ll see everything.*

Just look at the classroom—half the little turtles were already napping!

The Elder remained unperturbed, as if he hadn’t noticed his students dozing off. With impeccable turtle-speed, he lifted his teacup for another sip, then set it down just as slowly.

"And so—, the final—principle—of cultivation—is—to live—in peace—and comfort—."

"Let us—now—experience—this—last state—."

The latter half of the sentence, Yan Luoyue didn’t even hear.

She summarized the lecture notes from this class:

1. Stay alive.

2. Live freely.

3. Live peacefully and comfortably.

Wow, turns out the Grand Elder is also an outstanding "Lihua-style" poet.

As she looked around, she realized that aside from herself, all the other little turtles in the classroom had already drifted off to sleep (ａｉｙｉｎｂei)•(com). Unable to hold back any longer, Yan Luoyue finally raised her arm.

"Elder, regarding the cultivation of the Turtle Breathing Technique, I have a question—"

"No—need—to—rush," the Grand Elder replied with a gentle shake of his head. "You—should—first—master—this lesson."

Yan Luoyue coughed lightly. "Right now, I might not be able to... stay very peaceful."

The urge to complain/roast had completely taken over her mind, and she couldn’t stop it.

The Grand Elder pondered for a moment.

Two cups of tea later, he raised his hand and kindly mimed patting Yan Luoyue’s head from a distance.

"It’s—fine—child. I—will—gift—you—two—tools—to help."

Finally, the real technique was about to be revealed?

Yan Luoyue widened her eyes in anticipation.

About three minutes later, two objects floated down and landed in front of her. With just one glance, Yan Luoyue lifted her claws to cover her face.

The two "tools" the Grand Elder had gifted her were neither miraculous elixirs nor secret cultivation techniques.

They were a small quilt and a floral-patterned pillow.

Yan Luoyue: "..."

Understood. So the Turtle Clan’s very first lesson really *is* just teaching them how to sleep, huh?!

Speechless, Yan Luoyue wrapped herself tightly in the little quilt and drifted off. When she woke up, the morning light was faint—it was already dawn.

Completely unexpected to Yan Luoyue, she had actually slept for so long.

Even more unexpected was the fact that, just from a single night’s sleep, she had advanced from early-stage Qi Refining to mid-stage Qi Refining.

Absurd. Utterly ridiculous. *Beyond* ridiculous.

Wait, no—what on earth just happened?!

Do you mean to tell me this *Turtle Breathing Technique* allows you to cultivate *while sleeping*?!

Yan Luoyue sat there, blankly clutching the little floral quilt, even her big eyes losing their usual sparkle. The entire turtle was plunged into deep, existential confusion.

Could it be that the true essence of the Turtle Clan’s cultivation… really is that *life lies in stillness*?!