She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar

After calming down, Yan Luoyue looked around. She soon realized that, apart from herself, none of the other little turtles in the room had made any significant breakthroughs in their cultivation.

This unconventional lesson had left everyone eager to share their insights upon waking.

"It was so peaceful and comfortable—like falling asleep."

"Well, um... technically, we *were* asleep, right?"

Yan Luoyue waited a moment before chiming in during the liveliest part of the discussion: "Did anyone's cultivation improve?"

"Nope."

"Not mine."

"I did a little, but not much."

After asking around, Yan Luoyue finally confirmed that while the other turtles hadn't made much progress in cultivation, their mental states had noticeably advanced after experiencing the Grand Elder’s teachings.

For example…

"I’ve realized—turtle life is long and hard. We should take our time with cultivation instead of obsessing over short-term gains."

"Yeah, exactly! We live so long anyway, so happiness matters most. If we stay cheerful, we might even outlive those cultivators who train day and night."

Some turtles took it even further, immediately putting their philosophy into practice.

"*Yaaawn*—"

After a perfectly exaggerated stretch, one little turtle leisurely sprawled on the floor.

He tugged a corner of the floral-patterned blanket draped over Yan Luoyue’s knees, covered his belly with it, and soon began snoring sweetly.

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Well, that’s *early* retirement if she’d ever seen it.

Turtles—truly a breed apart.

With mixed emotions, Yan Luoyue left the classroom and ran into the Grand Elder practicing "Turtle-Style Fists" in the training yard.

Though his movements were sluggish, there was a deliberate grandeur to them—an air of unhurried confidence.

After watching for a while, Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but admire how perfectly the Grand Elder embodied the essence of turtle combat.

Not that he was *good* at it.

The defining traits of Turtle-Style Fists were speed and straightforward ferocity.

But at the Grand Elder’s current pace, Lu Zhishen could’ve pounded Zhen Guanxi to death *eight times over* before he even finished extending his arm.

This proved one thing: over the years, the Grand Elder had fully embraced the turtle way of life—otherwise, how could he practice martial arts with such unshakable confidence in his own longevity?

Yan Luoyue fell into silent contemplation, her exasperation growing by the minute.

After some hesitation, she waited politely for the Grand Elder to finish his set before stepping forward with a respectful bow.

"Elder, may I ask you something?"

The Grand Elder nodded amiably. "No—rush. Speak—slowly."

Yan Luoyue hesitated slightly. "After waking up, I noticed my cultivation had improved. I don’t think it was a coincidence. Could you enlighten me, Elder?"

The Grand Elder chuckled and—very, *very* slowly—patted her head. The motion was so lethargic it nearly lulled her back to sleep. Even a plow-worn ox wouldn’t take breaks *that* leisurely.

"Good—child. Look—"

Yan Luoyue shook herself awake just in time to see the Grand Elder produce a pot of wildflowers from nowhere, cradling it in his palm.

He handed it to her, his words unhurried but profound:

"See—it. Sprouts—when—it sprouts. Blooms—when—it blooms."

Like a sudden revelation, understanding dawned on Yan Luoyue.

Clutching the pot, she gazed at the unassuming yellow wildflower, her face lighting up with excitement.

"I understand, Elder! You mean balance is key. I’ve been pushing myself too hard in cultivation, so relaxing yesterday brought unexpected progress!"

Beaming, she bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Grand Elder! Goodbye!"

By the time the girl’s skipping figure vanished from the training yard, the Grand Elder had only just finished his next sentence:

"See—this flower—doesn’t—overthink—like you."

Two incense sticks later, the Grand Elder reached out futilely, as if grasping at thin air.

He sighed mournfully. "Wait—my—flower… return it…"

That girl was *too* fast—she didn’t even let him finish before absconding with his precious plant.

*Sigh.*

Over the years, the Grand Elder’s flowers had always mysteriously withered.

This one had been his first success in ages.

Yan Luoyue happily returned home and immediately found a perfect spot on her windowsill for the flowerpot.

Normally, such common yellow wildflowers were hardy—yet this one looked oddly wilted.

Standing on tiptoe, she checked the soil and was horrified to find the edges already desert-dry.

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Uh… *what?*

Just *how* infrequently had the Grand Elder been watering this thing?

The scene practically painted itself in her mind:

[The Grand Elder murmurs, "Hmm… time to water the flowers."

Half a quarter-hour later, he picks up the watering can—only for someone to poke their head in: "Grand Elder, we need you!"

An hour after seeing them off, he recalls, "Hmm… time to water the flowers."

Fifteen minutes later, as he finally locates the can, a message stone chimes: "Grand Elder, may I ask you something?"

…]

Dispelling the vivid imagery, Yan Luoyue was certain she’d guessed right.

No wonder the Grand Elder only kept wildflowers.

With that kind of care regimen, nothing else *could* survive.

Since she’d overslept in class yesterday, Yan Gan had already left for school by the time Yan Luoyue got home.

He’d left a note assuring her she could stay home—he’d handle her absence with the academy.

As for Yan Yu, though the hatchery had no hatchlings to tend to, she still had other duties in the clan.

In short, Yan Luoyue had the house to herself.

Fortunately, she wasn’t *actually* a mischievous child prone to flooding rooms, using lipstick as wall paint, mixing cooking oil and flour into "mud," or inflating her parents’ condoms into balloons—all heart-attack-inducing antics.

She merely surveyed the kitchen with dignified curiosity, confirmed Yan Yu had left steamed buns for her, and carried a bowl of water back to her room.

With a whole day off from school and no adults at home, Yan Luoyue seized the perfect opportunity to refine the newly purchased spirit flame.

Placing the wide bowl flat on the table, she took out the crystal orb that stored the flame. Cracking the orb’s shell like an egg, she let the flickering orange-red flame drop into the bowl.

The next step, of course, was to stir the "egg" with chopsticks… Just kidding.

Yan Luoyue formed a hand seal, her posture unmistakably the opening stance of "Waves Wash the Shore," one of the high-tier forging techniques in the art of refinement.

Channeling her spiritual energy into a single thread, she sent it spiraling into the heart of the flame, oscillating rhythmically from the inside out.

Wave after wave pressed forward, creating a rhythmic sound like ocean tides lapping against the shore.

The process appeared effortless, but with each surge of the flame, Yan Luoyue’s hand seals shifted subtly.

"Waves Wash the Shore" consisted of sixty-four major forms, each with eighteen minor variations. Choosing the right variation depended entirely on the flame’s behavior in the moment.

During refinement, eight forms made up a set, with no breaks allowed between them.

In other words, Yan Luoyue had to discern the flame’s fluctuations within half a second and simultaneously execute the corresponding hand seal.

The entire process demanded absolute precision—eyes, hands, and mind all in perfect sync.

The technique was so difficult that it was no wonder "Waves Wash the Shore" was considered a high-tier method, nearly lost among ordinary refiners. Even Master Ding of Zhaoxin Pavilion had only heard its name in passing.

And yet, Yan Luoyue had mastered over a hundred techniques as intricate and secretive as this one.

After executing sixteen forms in a row, her dantian nearly depleted, she finally formed the "Temporary Seal" hand sign and sat cross-legged, exhaling slowly.

Half the moisture in the bowl had evaporated by now, and the flame within had grown purer, living up to its name—"Lucid Clarity."

Originally, Yan Luoyue had planned to pause and recover after the first eight forms.

But thanks to a dream the night before, she had broken through to the middle stage of Qi Refining, nearly doubling her spiritual energy reserves.

At this rate, she only needed two more rest periods to completely purify the spirit flame.

Moreover, the refining process itself helped her grow more accustomed to her newly enhanced spiritual energy.

Now, manipulating spiritual energy came far more naturally than before, and she knew her speed would only improve further.

After four more rounds of refinement, all impurities were finally purged from the flame. A palm-sized, crystal-clear fire emerged—so pristine it could soothe even the most obsessive perfectionist.

Yan Luoyue tilted her head, admiring her handiwork from different angles, a swell of pride rising in her chest.

Though it had been a while since she last touched an alchemy furnace, her skills hadn’t dulled in the slightest.

Wiping the sweat from her brow with a satisfied smile, she glanced out the window. The morning had slipped away unnoticed—the sun now hung directly overhead, casting short, stout shadows from the trees in the courtyard. It was already noon.

After lunch, Yan Luoyue retrieved her refining materials from her storage pouch, arranging them methodically in order.

Then, she lit the furnace and began feeding materials into the refining cauldron one by one.

The first artifact she crafted was neither a defensive treasure nor a weapon. Instead, it was a peculiar, pitch-black contraption with a round belly, looking sturdy and oddly endearing.

By afternoon, when Yan Gan and Sang Ji returned from school, the two circled Yan Luoyue’s creation several times, utterly baffled.

Yan Gan’s guess was blunt and brutal: "Little sister, did you forge an iron block to smash enemies with when they get too close?"

Sang Ji’s guess was slightly more accurate. "This looks like… a furnace? Did you use a furnace to make another furnace?"

It sounded as bizarre as wearing shoes inside shoes.

Yan Luoyue chuckled and slotted a spirit stone into a small opening on the device before flipping down one of its "furnace ears."

In the next moment, flames burst from the mouth of the odd-looking cauldron, and mechanical whirring echoed from within.

Shortly after, an iron panel on the device slid open, and glossy black jade-like medicinal paste oozed out, accompanied by an overwhelming wave of sweet fragrance.

Sang Ji and Yan Gan inhaled deeply, exclaiming in unison: "This is… Sweet Delight Pills!"

Yan Luoyue nodded leisurely. "Yes, as you can see, I’ve made an automatic pill-refining machine."

The principle behind it was both simple and complex.

The simplicity lay in the fact that Sweet Delight Pills required only one critical refinement technique—"Starry Sky"—during the quenching phase.

So, Yan Luoyue first replicated her technique onto a jade slip, then crafted the core mechanism using Starfall Iron and Frostweave Copper.

Finally, she assembled timing components to add materials automatically, resulting in this pill-refining machine.

Though it could only produce Sweet Delight Pills and nothing else, its efficiency and automation made up for the limitation.

After explaining the process briefly, Yan Luoyue added with satisfaction:

"With this, we can mass-produce the first batch of pills and deliver them to the Canglang Sect at the next Moonlit Market."

Sang Ji and Yan Gan stared at her, slack-jawed, their faces screaming, *You can do that?!*

"I’ve never even heard of something like this. Little sister, you’re unbelievable."

Yan Luoyue waved it off casually. "This is just the beginning. I haven’t even assembled an automatic forging machine yet."

"——Hiss."

Both sucked in sharp breaths. "Wait, forging can be automated too?"

But hadn’t she just said Sweet Delight Pills were replicable because they only required one technique?

"Of course it can." Yan Luoyue remained unfazed. "Take Brother Ji’s Tusk Dagger, for example. It underwent five different quenching techniques."

"I can separate each technique into individual core components, replicate them, and link them with conveyor belts."

Yan Gan didn’t fully grasp it, but he felt as if a whole new world was unfolding before him.

"So you mean…"

Yan Luoyue: "Exactly. With enough materials and energy, identical Tusk Daggers could be churned out endlessly."

——This was the assembly line, a revolutionary method that would dominate future production.

Yan Gan, speechless: "…"

Sang Ji, feeling like he was in a dream: "…"

Swallowing hard, Sang Ji unsheathed his Tusk Dagger, turning it over in his hands as if seeing it for the first time.

He couldn’t believe it—in just the time it took to finish half a cup of tea, his beloved custom-made weapon was now at risk of becoming a mass-produced commodity.

Watching the dazed expressions on her two brothers’ faces, Yan Luoyue stifled a giggle.

Given the current state of the cultivation world, her assembly line concept was still only theoretically feasible.

For example, each core component required a spiritual flame to function, and Yan Luoyue only had one flame in her possession. There was also the issue of sourcing stable, high-quality raw materials, not to mention whether the cultivation world even needed so many Rhinoceros Fang Daggers in the first place…

Most importantly, every core component had to be meticulously crafted according to the condition of the spiritual flame. This demanded immense skill, keen judgment, and experience from the artificer.

Take this "Automatic Elixir Refiner," for instance—even a master artificer like Yan Luoyue had to dismantle the core components every three days and adjust them based on the state of the Clear Clarity Flame.

The current cultivation world might not be ready for industrialization or the establishment of an organized machinery system.

But in the future… well, who knew?

For now, this groundbreaking invention only stirred a minor commotion within the confines of Yan Luoyue’s small courtyard.

Like a pebble dropped into a well, the ripples spread briefly before the surface settled back into stillness.

The lingering aftereffect? Every time Yan Gan passed by the Automatic Elixir Refiner, he couldn’t help but pause and pay his respects to the black, metallic contraption.

Though he knew nothing about artificing, the mere sight of the machine filled him with an inexplicable sense of awe—like witnessing the pinnacle of core technology firsthand.

The tireless Automatic Elixir Refiner churned out batch after batch of sweet, delicious pills in no time.

Yan Luoyue had already contacted the Canglang Sect’s accounting elder, arranging to deliver the goods at the next Moonlit Market.

The Moonlit Market opened every five days.

This time, both Sang Ji and Yan Gan had finished their homework early and avoided detention. The moment their teacher dismissed the class, they scooped up Yan Luoyue and dashed out like a gust of wind.

The teacher: "…"

After glaring at their retreating figures for a moment, then recalling the usual quality of their assignments, the teacher slammed his desk in exasperation.

"Since when did you two show this much enthusiasm for class?"

It seemed that, whether in ancient times or the modern era, in cultivation sects or industrial societies, the frustrations of teachers remained universally relatable.

…………

At the Moonlit Market, Sang Ji hadn’t forgotten his mission to find a disguise for Yan Luoyue.

Carrying her in his arms, he browsed stall after stall, scrutinizing wares left and right until he finally spotted something promising.

"Are these those… whatchamacallit… Face-Changing Fruits? How long do they last?"

The stall owner—an unknown type of demonic creature—had an enormous nose, a receding hairline, and a perpetually grumpy expression.

Yan Luoyue couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked familiar, though she couldn’t place where she’d seen him before.

The stall owner answered in a thick, oyster-like accent, "You’ve got a sharp eye, young man! These are indeed Face-Changing Fruits—effects last half an hour."

Sang Ji picked up a small purplish-red fruit, inspected it, then set it back down. "Are they real? Can you demonstrate?"

The stall owner cheerfully plucked one from his display and popped it into his mouth. "Sure, watch closely."

The next second, Yan Luoyue—nestled securely in Sang Ji’s arms—jolted violently.

Her reaction was hardly an overreaction.

Because what the hell was happening to the stall owner’s face?!

The moment the fruit slid down his throat, his facial features instantly scrambled like a randomized jigsaw puzzle: one eye shot straight up to his forehead, another slid down to his chin, his nose twisted 270 degrees, and his mouth relocated to his cheek.

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Holy crap. This was *literally* a face-changing fruit.

Yan Luoyue was astounded. Yan Luoyue was speechless.

Sang Ji bounced her lightly in his arms. "So, little sis, guaranteed no one will recognize you after eating this. You like it?"

—Obviously! With facial features scattered like puzzle pieces, if anyone *could* recognize her afterward, she’d have to kneel and call them "Mom" out of sheer gratitude.

Yan Luoyue answered honestly: "…No."

The results were as random as a blind box draw—not exactly her idea of fun.

The stall owner seemed to sense her reluctance. His relocated lips stretched into a grin, and his upside-down eyebrows wiggled mischievously.

He gritted his teeth. "If this effect doesn’t satisfy you… I also have an *enhanced* version of the Face-Changing Fruit for sale."

Yan Luoyue couldn’t resist asking, "What does the enhanced version do?"

If the regular version was already this horrifying—reshuffling facial features like a flat jigsaw—then the enhanced one… Would it turn her face into free-assembly LEGO blocks?

The stall owner declared proudly, "The enhanced version randomizes the positions of *all eight limbs*!"

"…"

Wait. *Eight* limbs?

Something finally clicked in Yan Luoyue’s mind.

"Uh, if you don’t mind me asking… what’s your species?"

The stall owner answered matter-of-factly, "Octopus, of course."

Yan Luoyue: "…"

My apologies. I should’ve known.

No wonder he sold such eldritch wares—he was practically the Great Old One Cthulhu himself.

And now she realized why he looked so familiar.

Receding hairline, big nose, perma-scowl… He was a dead ringer for Squidward!

Upon hearing the effects of the enhanced Face-Changing Fruit, even Sang Ji took three cautious steps back.

Only Yan Gan stroked his chin, eyes gleaming with interest.

"You guys don’t like it? I think it sounds kinda cool."

"Then *you* try it, buddy." Sang Ji clapped him on the shoulder. "Don’t say I didn’t warn you—there’s a 50% chance you’ll have to wipe your butt with your feet afterward."

Yan Gan: "…"

Despite Yan Luoyue’s firm refusal to consume the fruits, they ended up buying the entire stock.

As Sang Ji put it, these were rare finds—exclusive products from the ocean tribes.

Besides, "Squidward’s" prices were dirt cheap—practically a giveaway.

Even Yan Luoyue didn’t object: she might not eat them herself, but there was always someone *else* who could.

The moment she voiced the thought, the trio exchanged knowing smirks, their eyes alight with the shared mischief of troublemakers.

Yan Gan still remembered the incident in Ruyi City, where Yan Luoyue and Sang Ji had nearly been caught by the leader of the rogue cultivators.

As he pocketed the fruits, his tone carried a carefully hidden trace of concern.

"If little sister doesn’t like this, what will you do next time someone recognizes you?"

Yan Luoyue waved her hand dismissively. "Easy—I’ll just forge a cloak that can conceal my aura."

The moment she said this, she noticed Yan Gan and Sang Ji staring at her motionlessly, their shoulders trembling with barely suppressed laughter, their gazes brimming with mischief.

"……"

Glancing down at her own stubby arms and legs, Yan Luoyue suddenly understood—and flushed with indignation.

"—The height issue can be fixed with a pair of platform shoes!"

"Pfft—HAHAHA! With that tiny frame of yours, one pair won’t be enough, little sister!"

"Don’t worry, look—they’re selling stilts right over there! Let big brother buy you a pair, ahahahaha!"

Yan Luoyue kicked her dangling little legs furiously, silently howling her brothers’ names in her heart.

—Damn you, Ji! Damn you, Gan!!