She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar

The fully automated production line worked day and night, quickly manufacturing enough storage pouches to fulfill the order for the Yijian Sect.

After meticulously inspecting each pouch to ensure no flaws, Yan Luoyue began her preparations. She swallowed an age-increasing pill, draped herself in a black cloak, and used a communication stone to contact the Yijian Sect’s steward to arrange the delivery.

Additionally, Yan Luoyue didn’t forget to request leave from her academy in advance.

After all, this was the most critical and decisive matter—whether she’d earn a tidy sum from this deal or end up punished with extra homework.

……

Ever since placing the order, the Yijian Sect steward had been anxiously monitoring her communication stone.

The moment she received Yan Luoyue’s message today, her face lit up with joy, and she hurried out to greet her.

The usually aloof sword cultivator was now utterly exhilarated, eagerly welcoming this batch of custom-made sword-intent storage pouches.

The pouches were imprinted with sword intent, allowing disciples to carry them around and meditate on the insights anytime.

Such high-quality storage pouches, and yet they were priced only slightly higher than standard ones!

Whether the mysterious artificer profited from this deal, the steward didn’t know.

But one thing was certain—the Yijian Sect was absolutely getting the better end of the bargain!

However, as the saying goes, while the mantis stalks the cicada, the oriole lurks behind.

The moment the Yijian Sect steward made her move, the leader of a certain faction, who had been closely monitoring the sect, was immediately alerted.

If he’d had any other choice, he wouldn’t have resorted to such measures—keeping tabs on the Yijian Sect was no small risk.

After all, sword cultivator sects were not to be trifled with.

But the leader was truly at his wits’ end.

The Grasshopper Clan was absurdly fertile, and insect demons, with their natural wings, would scatter to the ends of the earth once they matured.

Trying to find a specific "Grasshopper Yan" among the locusts was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

A combination of factors had made it impossible for him to uncover the true identity of this mysterious artificer—even now.

The leader: "…"

Left with no other options, he could only settle for second best—starting with the Yijian Sect.

That artificer had gone to great lengths to secure this order—surely, she wouldn’t back out now.

Sure enough, as soon as the Yijian Sect steward stepped out today, the leader received word.

Learning from his previous mistake of having victory snatched from his grasp at the last moment, he not only ordered his subordinates to prepare accordingly but also sent someone to stake out the whereabouts of that stunningly beautiful woman.

Upon confirming that she hadn’t left her residence today, the leader finally relaxed.

The steward sent by the Yijian Sect to handle the transaction was refreshingly efficient.

This tall, long-legged swordswoman randomly picked one pouch from the pile—not even bothering to check its storage capacity—and immediately marveled at the inscriptions.

"Perfect! This is exactly what we wanted—absolutely flawless!"

Without hesitation, she settled the final payment with Yan Luoyue and even enthusiastically reimbursed her for the delivery fee.

What an ideal client: quick to sign contracts, prompt with payments, and not the least bit nitpicky during inspections.

Truly, the dream client every working professional wished for.

Honestly, when Yan Luoyue accepted the spirit stones handed to her, she felt a twinge of emotion.

Truth be told, Jiang Tingbai’s extreme frugality had left such a deep impression on her that, before this deal, she never imagined she could actually make money off sword cultivators.

—I mean, who knew sword cultivators even had money?!

Having witnessed sword intent for the first time, the steward was visibly exhilarated.

If not for Yan Luoyue’s full-body black cloak, which radiated an unmistakable "keep your distance" aura, the steward might have grabbed her hands and spun her around in sheer delight.

Yes, the joys of a sword cultivator were just this simple and unpretentious.

The steward earnestly said, "If there are more opportunities like this in the future, please consider the Yijian Sect first."

Yan Luoyue nodded but couldn’t suppress her curiosity.

"Just out of curiosity—was the delivery fee you reimbursed me with… official funds, or…?"

The swordswoman blinked in surprise.

"Of course it was official funds!" she declared firmly. "It’s embarrassing to admit, but I can’t even afford my beloved sword’s polishing oil this month—how could I possibly cover your delivery fee myself?"

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Obsessed with their swords, perpetually broke, treating their swords like wives, and even buying them monthly "face oil"!

Yet another stereotype about sword cultivators had been cemented in her mind.

……

After bidding farewell to the swordswoman, Yan Luoyue soon sensed something amiss on her way back.

She glanced around—the sky was still blue, the breeze still gentle.

…But that familiar prickle at the back of her neck felt eerily similar to being ambushed by an enemy guild while grinding mobs in the wild.

Hmm. At a time like this, the only ones who’d be watching her dealings with the Yijian Sect would be the Lu Clan.

Whether this feeling of being watched was genuine or just paranoia, she couldn’t say.

But after a moment’s thought, Yan Luoyue didn’t quicken her pace—instead, she slowed down.

At the same time, her hand subtly slipped into her sleeve pocket.

She had prepared for this even before the delivery.

Currently, her left hand held a communication stone—the moment things took a turn, she could instantly send out a "Jiang Tingbai on-demand" request.

—For this very occasion, she’d even changed the notification tone to: *"You have a new 'Slash Now' order. Please respond promptly!"*

If these people showed even the slightest hint of hostility—or even just revealed themselves—Yan Luoyue had every excuse to message Jiang Tingbai.

Meanwhile, her right hand gripped a new gadget she’d crafted just yesterday.

Originally, the Heartbound Stone was used by couples to pledge a life-and-death bond, ensuring they shared the same fate.

But Yan Luoyue had forcibly tempered away the "shared death" aspect, leaving only the "proportional life-force link" effect.

In simple terms, if Yan Luoyue lost 1% of her HP, the target would also lose 1%. If she lost 50%, so would they.

Her base HP was a mere 10 points. Even with all her gear’s stat bonuses combined, her total health barely scraped past 100.

Meanwhile, the average Qi Refining cultivator started with at least 1,000 HP.

Some particularly hardy body cultivators or sword cultivators could even approach the 10,000 mark.

In other words, once bound by this artifact, the difference between an opponent being lively and lively-on-life-support was as thin as Yan Luoyue choking on a sip of water.

Given its absurd ability to forcibly sync HP ratios and slash the enemy’s health,

its mechanics were as shameless as "averaging a laborer’s wages with a tycoon’s income to artificially inflate the poverty line."

Therefore, Yan Luoyue named this piece of equipment—

"Me and Ma○'s Combined Net Worth of 100 Billion."

Noticing Yan Luoyue slowing down, one of the underlings grew impatient and nearly jumped out on the spot.

But in the blink of an eye, the leader sensed his movement and promptly held him back.

"...My lord?"

The leader shook his head slightly.

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he stared at the black-robed figure in the distance.

The leader could confirm that this desolate wilderness held no third party besides his own men and the artificer.

During their last encounter at the city gates, he had already noticed that this artificer’s cultivation level was mediocre at best.

Logically, capturing her should have been as easy as plucking a ripe fruit.

Yet, for some reason, an ominous premonition gripped the leader’s heart, making him feel that something was off.

Though he lacked concrete evidence, his years of hardened experience allowed him to detect a trace of something unsettling.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that the artificer’s silhouette concealed something that unnerved him.

If she could hear the leader’s thoughts, Yan Luoyue would have earnestly told him: "That ‘something’ is probably the aura of someone setting up a sting operation."

Uncertain why the other party wasn’t taking the bait, Yan Luoyue deliberately slowed her pace, strolling leisurely.

Along the way, she stopped frequently, even bending down now and then to pick up a stone. Her unguarded back might as well have been labeled, "I’m a plump little sheep—come and fleece me!"

The underlings scratched their heads in frustration, unable to comprehend why the leader still hadn’t acted.

Meanwhile, the leader’s expression darkened silently.

He was now certain that the artificer had somehow detected their surveillance.

Yet, despite this, she had the audacity to slow down even further. This meant one of two things: either she was recklessly bold, gambling that his caution would keep him from acting—or she was luring them into a trap on purpose.

"...Wait. Don’t act rashly," the leader hissed through clenched teeth.

Soon, his suspicions were confirmed.

To his disbelief, when they still hadn’t moved, this little grasshopper actually turned around and walked back toward them!

One of the underlings gaped. "My lord, is—is this a provocation?!"

The leader took a deep breath. "Yes. That’s exactly why we can’t fall for it."

A faint sneer flickered in his eyes.

Did this artificer truly think such a crude taunt would work on him?

Youthful impatience. If she wanted to test his endurance, she was still far from his league.

Just as the leader steeled himself to ignore whatever she did next, the cloaked figure suddenly moved.

First, the artificer took out two Swiftness Talismans from her storage pouch and slapped one on each leg.

Then, she retrieved a bizarre mask—one with a protruding snout and crystal lenses embedded in the eye sockets—and fastened it over her face beneath the hood.

The artificer said, "So, you’ve decided not to come out, huh?"

Then she added, "Have you ever experienced the terror of being hunted by a weasel?"

Watching these preparations, a sense of foreboding surged in the leader’s chest.

"...No more waiting. Seize her!"

As it turned out, the order came too late.

Because the moment the mask clicked into place, the artificer acted without hesitation.

Clutching four Palm Thunder bombs between her fingers, the cloaked figure hurled them in all four directions—forward, backward, left, and right—instantly setting off a full-blown explosion!

If these had been ordinary Palm Thunders, the leader wouldn’t have been fazed. Sure, they packed a punch and were a nuisance to deal with, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

But who knew what modifications this artificer had made to her bombs?

When these Palm Thunders hit the ground, they didn’t explode or ignite.

Instead, thick mustard-yellow smoke flooded the area, swallowing everyone’s vision.

And worse than the smoke was the overwhelming stench that shot straight to the brain with a single whiff.

How to describe this smell?

It was like gathering a month’s worth of unwashed socks from eight hundred burly men and condensing them into a pill the size of a fingernail.

Or like nearly drowning in a cesspit, then being dragged ashore only to let out your first belch.

Under such an assault, tears streamed uncontrollably from everyone’s eyes. Forget capturing the culprit—they couldn’t even muster the strength to resist.

Among them, the leader, with his higher cultivation, fared slightly better.

Tears gushed down his face as he gnashed his teeth.

The usually composed and seasoned leader was stripped of all his calm by the sheer vileness of the stench.

"You little—*retch*—just wait till I catch you—*retch*—I’ll make sure you—*retch*!!"

Yan Luoyue, now wearing her gas mask and having sprinted far beyond the stink bomb’s range, faintly caught the commotion behind her.

As expected, her instincts had been right—someone had indeed been tailing her.

By her conservative estimate, the area wouldn’t be breathable for at least ten hours.

Since the ambush had been thwarted and the smell was truly… unforgettable, Yan Luoyue hesitated before deciding against summoning her "Dididajiang" backup.

After all, these men hadn’t actually done anything yet.

Even if caught red-handed, they could always argue that the wilderness wasn’t Yan Luoyue’s private property—they were just passing through.

Jiang Tingbai was a man of principles. Unless the moral high ground was secured, he wouldn’t resort to force.

Plus, Yan Luoyue had a hunch that calling him over now might… tarnish her image somehow.

From within the noxious fog behind her, fragmented shouts still echoed.

"You—grasshopper—brat—I’ll remember—"

The phrasing was so distinctive that it instantly reminded Yan Luoyue of the Elder Turtle.

She chuckled quietly to herself, amused. *Hah, is this ‘the whole world learning Turtle-speak’ now?*

Still, after today’s spectacle, her next sting operation would surely succeed.

...

The leader finally (in his own mind) pieced everything together.

There had been no feigned retreat, no elaborate trap—none of it.

All of the artificer’s earlier theatrics had been a prelude to her escape.

He had overthought it. This artificer had no hidden cards to play.

Next time they met, he would carve her into a thousand pieces, flay her alive, crush her bones to dust, and toss the remains into the foulest cesspit in the realm!!!

This day would forever be etched into the memories of the leader and his underlings.

By the time the gut-wrenching stench had faded, every one of them had been half-dead from the fumes.

The underlings, supporting each other in twos and threes, dove into the nearest body of water, desperate to wash away the stink that had permeated their very flesh.

After soaking for nearly an hour, they sniffed each other cautiously and deemed themselves passably clean.

However, just as they were on their way back, one of the subordinates was shocked to discover a stranger casually blending into their group as if they were old friends.

“Wait a second—who are you? Why are you following us?”

The stranger seemed momentarily stunned. “Huh? Aren’t we from the same clan?”

Everyone exchanged bewildered glances, utterly baffled.

The leader of the cultivators stepped forward. “Judging by that wording… you’re a demon of the beast tribe?”

The stranger nodded. “Yeah.”

The leader narrowed his eyes. “An insect demon?”

Another nod. “Yeah.”

In that instant, an image of a shadowy figure flashed through nearly everyone’s minds.

The leader’s lips twisted into a sinister grin. “Oh? Then what kind of demon are you?”

Hidden beneath his sleeve, a truth-detecting ruler artifact was already primed and ready.

The stranger blinked in confusion but answered politely nonetheless, “I’m a dung beetle demon.”

Everyone: “…”

The ruler artifact flared with a bright white light, confirming the statement as true.

One of the subordinates trembled, struggling to form words. “Y-you’re a dung beetle demon… so why are you following us?”

The stranger scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, I must’ve misjudged the scent… I really thought we were from the same clan at first.”

Everyone: “…”

As they watched the stranger walk away, the subordinates turned questioning looks toward their leader.

The leader closed his eyes, grinding his teeth before issuing the command: “Turn around. We’re going back to the pond. We’re soaking again.”

This time, they soaked for a full two hours.

Before leaving, they made absolutely sure none of them carried even a hint of an unusual scent.

The return journey this time was smooth—no dung beetle demons tried to buddy up to them along the way.

The only minor incident was that they ended up attracting no fewer than five packs of wild dogs, each one drooling with glistening saliva.

Everyone: “…”

A subordinate hesitantly asked, “My lord, what should we do now…?”

“Go. Back. And. Soak!” the leader enunciated each word sharply.

This time, they stayed in the water until the moon was high in the sky.

Among the subordinates, hushed whispers circulated:

“You think that little bastard of a grasshopper artificer is asleep by now?”

“How the hell should I know if he’s asleep? I sure as hell can’t sleep!”

……

Meanwhile, Yan Luoyue was, of course, fast asleep.

Not only was she well-fed and resting soundly, but she was also having a dream.

For some reason, she dreamed of that little snake again.

At first, she found herself in a vast, endless grassland.

Against a backdrop reminiscent of a Mario-style side-scrolling screen, pixelated spheres bounced cheerfully in place.

Dream logic, of course, followed no logic at all.

Yan Luoyue immediately recognized the spheres as the fish balls she’d eaten for dinner.

Why had she scattered so many fish balls on the ground again?

Oh… right. She was going to feed the snake, wasn’t she?

Almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she instinctively turned her head—

And there it was: a small, emerald-green snake slithering in, its body swaying playfully.

The dream shifted abruptly, and suddenly, Yan Luoyue was standing outside the screen.

With her hands cupping her cheeks and stars in her eyes, she watched intently as the little green snake gobbled up the pixelated spheres inside the screen.

Despite its tiny size, the snake was a voracious eater. It swallowed the fish balls one after another, soon resembling a string of candied haws on a stick.

Yan Luoyue observed closely at first, but before long, she couldn’t resist reaching out to adjust the snake’s movements.

“No, you can’t eat that ball like that.”

“Ah, don’t take that route.”

“Be good and listen—you can only turn at right angles, okay?”

The little snake seemed utterly perplexed by her micromanagement.

It repeatedly flicked its tiny pink tongue, poking its head out of the screen to exchange confused glances with Yan Luoyue.

The snake’s eyes were like gleaming black gemstones.

But at this moment, its dark, tranquil pupils reflected Yan Luoyue’s image, its beady little eyes shimmering with bewilderment.

Its tail tip wriggled with an almost springy bounce, as if asking—why?

Why couldn’t it just spin in a full 180-degree loop?

“You have to turn at right angles,” dream-Yan Luoyue patiently explained. “Otherwise, we’re not playing Snake anymore!”

“…”

The little snake blinked twice before ducking back into the screen. Yan Luoyue had no idea if it understood.

Just as the snake lunged for the next fish ball, the grassland suddenly warped, and the leader cultivator’s face emerged from the ground!

The earth bulged into a mound, sending fish balls rolling everywhere.

The snake stretched itself toward the screen’s edge, but the leader grinned maliciously and pulled out a storage pouch, trapping the snake inside!

“Let it go!!”

Dream-Yan Luoyue shot to her feet, reaching out desperately to save the little snake.

But this time, no matter how hard she tried, her fingers only met the cold, unyielding surface of the screen. She couldn’t break through to the world beyond.

Frantically, she flailed her arms, stomped her feet, and even threw a wild, uncoordinated flurry of punches at the screen.

“—Aah!”

The flailing was too forceful—one fist slammed into her bed frame, jolting her awake.

Sitting up, Yan Luoyue’s heart still raced with lingering fear.

She’d once heard that dreams were essentially fragments of the subconscious pieced together.

So… was it because she’d heard rumors about the Lu Clan buying poisons, been tailed by the leader during today’s delivery, and all those fragments had merged into this bizarre dream?

Either way, there was no way she was falling back asleep anytime soon.

After a moment’s thought, she got out of bed, threw on a robe, and headed to the backyard.

There, an assembly line hummed ceaselessly, the steady mechanical whir of modified forging furnaces filling the air.

Blades gleamed along the conveyor belt, stacked like firewood against the wall.

Each sword radiated a sharp, biting chill—proof that these were no ordinary weapons to be taken lightly.

These blades, each worth dozens or even hundreds in the market, were lined up with such precision they might as well have been stamped from the same mold.

The sight was so orderly it almost gave Yan Luoyue a thrill akin to reviewing troops.

She drew one of the swords, hovering her hand just above its edge, quietly feeling its razor-sharp aura.

This wasn’t the best sword Yan Luoyue could forge.

Yet they were swords potent enough to bring down the entire Lu clan.

In this world, there exists a kind of sword that can pierce through an enemy’s flesh—

the kind wielded by swordsmen like Jiang Tingbai.

But beyond that, there is another kind of blade.

This one can shatter the very foundation of a family’s legacy,

shatter market monopolies long held unshaken.

And this—this is Yan Luoyue’s sword.