She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar

Yan Luoyue said, "Come back with me."

The Crowsong Flame?

For Yan Luoyue, this was an entirely new term.

Though she had been reborn in this world—well, more accurately, hatched from an egg—she was still young, with limited life experience and knowledge.

So when Shen Jingxuan mentioned "Crowsong Flame" as if it were common knowledge, Yan Luoyue drew a complete blank.

As for Little Wu, he lived in isolation. It was questionable whether he had even escaped the realm of illiteracy in this world.

Expecting him to know about something as advanced as the "Crowsong Flame" was asking a bit too much.

Shen Jingxuan glanced at Yan Luoyue, then at Little Wu.

From the blank looks on their faces, she pieced together the situation.

"Haven’t you heard the bedtime stories? It’s said there are three divine treasures that connect the vitality of the human, demon, and spirit realms, enduring as long as heaven and earth itself."

Yan Luoyue’s expression turned slightly odd the moment she heard the opening.

After all, everyone knew that phrases like "There exists a treasure called..." were practically a storytelling cliché.

Just think of "The Lotus Lantern," "The Seven Gourd Brothers," or "The Heavenly Book Chronicles."

Which of these tales didn’t begin with "Once upon a time, there was a treasure, and then..." before spiraling into chaos?

Hearing this introduction, Yan Luoyue immediately knew the story would inevitably revolve around these three treasures—and the trouble they’d bring.

Shen Jingxuan, unaware of Yan Luoyue’s inner commentary, continued patiently explaining to the two childhood-deprived youngsters.

"Of these three divine artifacts, one is called the Crowsong Flame. The three-legged golden crows were said to have hatched from its very core, hence its name."

"The second treasure is known as the Moonshadow Tree. It takes a hundred thousand years for spring, and another hundred thousand for autumn—its lifespan stretches endlessly with the heavens."

"As for the third treasure, legends vary. Because of this, it’s shrouded in mystery. Some say that whoever obtains it can have any wish fulfilled."

At this point, Shen Jingxuan chuckled.

As a child, like countless others who first heard this tale, she had been convinced she would one day claim the third treasure.

Looking back now, those childish dreams were endearingly naive.

Yan Luoyue pressed, "And then what?"

Shen Jingxuan thought for a moment. "Three thousand years ago, when the demon realm’s passage was sealed, the Moonshadow Tree was also trapped within."

"As for the Crowsong Flame—before the Demon-Subduing War began, it scattered into a rain of fire from the sky and vanished without a trace. To this day, the cultivation world still doesn’t know why the Crowsong Flame dispersed. The prevailing theory is that the demons had a hand in it."

Yan Luoyue had settled in beside Little Wu, ready to listen like children sharing fruit, only for Shen Jingxuan to wrap things up in a few sentences. It felt oddly abrupt.

"Is that all?" Yan Luoyue prompted. "Jingxuan, did you leave something out?"

Shen Jingxuan blinked. "Like what?"

Yan Luoyue waved a hand dramatically. "Like—'A village boy suddenly barges into the Divine King’s Hall. The crowd scoffs at his audacity, only to discover he wields the Crowsong Flame in his left hand and commands the Moonshadow Tree with his right. The three realms tremble. The Divine King immediately kneels, proclaiming: All hail the return of our master with the three divine treasures!'... That sort of thing?"

"..."

Shen Jingxuan paused, then reached out to feel Yan Luoyue’s forehead.

"Did you get splashed by poison earlier?"

Otherwise, why was the child suddenly spouting nonsense?

Little Wu could confirm Yan Luoyue hadn’t been hit by poison.

In his mind, there was no way Yan Luoyue’s logic could be flawed.

...Which meant the problem must lie with him.

Touching his ears, Little Wu wondered: Since when did I start having intermittent auditory hallucinations?

Shen Jingxuan patted Yan Luoyue’s head firmly. "Nothing like that ever happened! The Crowsong Flame and Moonshadow Tree are divine artifacts born with the world itself. No cultivator has ever been capable of wielding them. Besides, there’s no 'Divine King' in the cultivation world!"

Leaving the imaginative little sister to her thoughts, Shen Jingxuan stepped around the remnants of the illusion spell—charred roots and withered leaves—to search for the "exit" Little Wu had mentioned.

Meanwhile, Yan Luoyue, fresh from defeating the big boss, wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

Following her gaming instincts, she scoured the area for any dropped loot.

Little Wu didn’t know what she was looking for, but he trailed after her faithfully.

Noticing the shadow that never left her side, Yan Luoyue straightened. "How’s the wound on your hand?"

Little Wu instantly hid his wrist behind his back. "It’s stopped bleeding."

Though the flesh was still split and raw, that wasn’t an issue.

Since childhood, he’d been injured for one reason or another.

Wounds and pain were like inseparable twins to him, rarely ever leaving his side.

Yan Luoyue frowned. "Let me see. I have ointment—it won’t hurt, and it’ll heal quickly."

Something about those words struck a nerve. Little Wu stiffened like a coiled spring and leapt back.

—How could he possibly show her his wound?

His blood carried lethal poison. Merely letting it near her would be an unforgivable offense.

He’d thrown himself into the demonic array without hesitation precisely because he feared the monsters might threaten her life.

Now that the greatest threat was gone, how could he become the danger himself?

Yan Luoyue quickly grasped his reluctance.

...Right. The first time they met, Little Wu had taken one look at her and halved her HP on the spot.

With that kind of first impression, it was no wonder he didn’t trust her durability.

Pulling out several jars of sweet medicinal salve from her pouch, Yan Luoyue tossed them to him one by one.

"Fine, I won’t look. But you have to apply it properly... Wait, the ointment is for you to use now! If you like it, I can give you hundreds more."

The moment Little Wu caught the jars, his first instinct was to wrap them carefully and tuck them deep into his robes—as if hoarding treasure.

Yan Luoyue nearly laughed. Where had he picked up these hamster-like habits?

If she recalled correctly, snakes were supposed to be natural predators of hamsters.

With the same meticulous care he used to stash the ointment, he could’ve bandaged his wound properly by now—it might’ve even started healing.

Under Yan Luoyue’s persistent urging, Little Wu finally unscrewed a lid and dabbed a tiny amount onto his wrist.

As she instructed him ("Use more! It’s free! I’ll give you thousands if you want!"), she struck up conversation.

"Look, I already know who you are, and you’ve known me for a while. Can’t you at least tell me your full name?"

At the mention of this topic, Little Wu’s hand, which had been applying medicine, froze mid-air.

He stammered defensively, “Y-you’ve got it wrong. I-I’m not the snake you’re thinking of.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Little Wu realized there was a glaring flaw in his statement.

“……”

His breath hitched halfway, as if he wanted to erase the foolish version of himself from existence or was frozen in sheer embarrassment.

Yan Luoyue: “……”

Well, logically speaking, shouldn’t she follow up with, “How did you know I was talking about a snake?”

…Better not.

Even through the mummy-like wrappings, Yan Luoyue could tell Little Wu was mortified.

She had a feeling that if she teased him any further, he might just dig a hole with his bare hands and dive in, performing a classic act of, “See? I’m not a snake—I’m an earthworm!”

Clearing her throat, Yan Luoyue changed the subject. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“……”

Beneath the bandages, the flush that had risen to Little Wu’s face drained away like a receding tide.

He lowered his head slightly, lips pressed together, and spoke in a tone that acknowledged his own strangeness. “I don’t have a name.”

“……”

After answering, Little Wu turned his head away, deliberately avoiding Yan Luoyue’s gaze.

The last thing he wanted to see in her eyes was surprise, rejection, or worse—disgust.

“Different clans, different hearts.”

Little Wu had learned long ago how terrifying it was to face others’ exclusion—how it had nearly cost him his life more than once.

Language was the basic rule of this world, and he had almost died for not understanding it.

Writing was a higher form of communication, and his ignorance of it had brought him much suffering.

As for a name… it was something everyone took for granted.

But in his inherited memories, he had no recollection of ever having one.

The character “Wu” was the deepest impression he had of himself, and he was willing to use it as his surname.

Yan Luoyue noticed with surprise that Little Wu’s shoulders were tense, slightly hunched forward, as if bracing for an attack.

It seemed he truly cared about not having a name.

The girl waved her hand leisurely in front of the white gauze. “A name is just something you can choose for yourself, you know?”

“It can be a nickname from family, a moniker from friends, or just a few characters you really like… Even if you called yourself ‘Dala Bengba Bandebeibiduobiruweng,’ the worst that could happen is someone turning it into a song!”

The faint trace of hesitation in Little Wu’s heart was instantly washed away by that ridiculously long name.

He looked up, bewildered. “…Huh?”

There’s actually a name like that? Was this person from the demon realm?

Yan Luoyue realized she’d gotten carried away and quickly rubbed the tip of her nose.

“Ahem, what I mean is, if you don’t have a name, why not just pick one?”

The moment she said it, even through the gauze, Yan Luoyue could see Little Wu’s eyes light up.

She’d bet that if he had a single strand of hair sticking up like an antenna, it would be standing straighter than a soldier at a parade.

Little Wu leaned forward, unable to hide the eagerness radiating from him.

Holding his breath almost reverently, he carefully made his request—

“Then… could you give me one?”

He quickly added, “If it’s too much trouble, never mind. I just heard you say names can be gifts from friends… I just… I hope…”

He hoped they could be friends.

“Of course you’re my friend—we just teamed up to fight monsters! And naming isn’t trouble at all.” Yan Luoyue grinned, her eyes curving into crescents.

Little Wu stared at her through the gauze, thinking the girl’s face was as bright as ten moons shining at once.

The little girl propped her chin up spiritedly and wagged her index finger. “Let me tell you, I’m the best at naming things!”

Not far away, Shen Jingxuan shuddered at this bold declaration.

She glanced at the “Little Ming’s Reservoir” on the ground, then recalled the undelivered “Bashful Mimosa Quietly Opens and Closes.”

Finally, remembering that unbeatable pseudonym “XXX,” she shot Yan Luoyue a look of utter disbelief.

In a way, Yan Luoyue wasn’t wrong.

When it came to naming, she was truly in a league of her own—just not in the way one might expect.

Since Little Wu’s surname was Wu, Yan Luoyue’s mind instantly flooded with excellent name ideas.

Like “Lich King,” “The Three Gorges of Wu Stretch Endlessly,” “Ximen Bao Governs Ye” (weren’t the witches drowned in that story? How did this name sneak in?), or “Wu Mountain’s Clouds and Rain”… Ahem, scratch that last one.

But in the end, as if guided by some unseen force, a line of poetry drifted into Yan Luoyue’s mind.

In this moment, she reached the pinnacle of her naming skills.

Yan Luoyue said, “There’s a line from a poem: ‘The moon sets, crows cry, frost fills the sky.’”

“It’s such a coincidence today—there’s ‘Luo Yue’ (falling moon), ‘Wu Ti’ (crow’s cry), and your surname is Wu, not Wu (crow)… What do you think of the name ‘Wu Manshuang’ (Frost Fills the Sky)?”

“Good.” Little Wu nodded firmly. “I’m Wu Manshuang.”

“Hey, you don’t have to shop around, but at least consider your options.”

Yan Luoyue laughed, thinking how utterly guileless he was—if he dealt with people like this, he’d surely be taken advantage of.

“This is just one name. I could come up with a whole basketful for you to choose from.”

“I like this name.” Wu Manshuang repeated with conviction. “From now on, I am Wu Manshuang.”

Not long after, Shen Jingxuan pushed aside layers of withered vines and branches, finding the exit.

Meanwhile, after retrieving “Little Ming’s Reservoir,” Yan Luoyue rummaged through a nearby stone cave, uncovering traces of Wu Chunhui’s past years.

The cave was sparsely furnished—just a wooden bed, a stool, and a chest.

Wu Chunhui’s storage pouch hung on the wall.

With its owner dead, the pouch’s binding had dissolved.

Yan Luoyue turned it upside down and shook it, and a small mountain of items spilled out.

Most of the pouch’s space was filled with branches of the Illusory Shaking Tree.

One end of each branch had been stripped, revealing a green core, ready to be planted and take root.

This confirmed that the grove of Illusory Shaking Flowers had indeed been planted by Wu Chunhui himself.

The remaining items were personal belongings.

Among them, Yan Luoyue found two or three changes of clothes, a few low-grade magical tools, a dozen spirit stones, a moldy and rock-hard dried flatbread (?)… and—

A scroll painting and a beast-headed ring.

Unrolling the scroll, she saw a woman smiling like a flower, her robes fluttering as if she might step out of the painting at any moment.

Her belly was slightly rounded, her right hand resting gently upon it, with a tender yet resilient maternal aura radiating from her brow and eyes.

Upon checking the signature, the painting was created fifty years ago.

That grove of illusory trees had been planted within the last thirty years.

Considering the timeline, Wu Chunhui must have been turned into a demonic puppet by the ancient tree no more than thirty years ago.

Perhaps fifty years ago, Wu Chunhui had not yet stumbled into this place.

Maybe he truly had a loving wife, a harmonious marriage, and a child they eagerly awaited.

Yet, in the illusion conjured by the ancient tree, there was only a woman with a swollen belly—no innocent, joyful child in sight... Something must have gone wrong back then.

Regardless, Wu Chunhui had perished as a demonic puppet, and the wife he longed for was now nothing but a painting, its signature frozen in time fifty years ago.

His story could no longer be told, left only to the speculation of those who came after.

Yan Luoyue sighed and shook her head, then turned her gaze to the ring.

To ensure her memory wasn’t failing her, she retrieved another ring from her storage pouch for comparison.

Indeed, they were identical—both beast-headed rings.

The only difference was that Yan Luoyue’s was made of black iron, while Wu Chunhui’s was silver.

Wu Chunhui had once been a silver-tier champion at the Silverlight Arena—an unexpected discovery.

But in a world where competitive entertainment thrived, and with Silverlight Arena being a major chain, it wasn’t unusual for cultivators around Yunning Marsh to possess such rings.

Mentally noting this, Yan Luoyue opened the only chest in the room.

The moment the heavy lid sprang open, the contents spilled out in a cascade, some even tumbling to the ground, leaving Yan Luoyue gaping in astonishment.

"Little Wu, come here," Yan Luoyue beckoned to Wu Manshuang, who stood three paces away.

Mysteriously, she asked, "Have you ever opened a blind box?"

Wu Manshuang: ?

The chest was packed to the brim with storage pouches.

Some were centuries-old designs, still caked with dirt—likely dug up by Wu Chunhui later in life.

Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang sat side by side on the floor, unsealing pouch after pouch.

Yan Luoyue felt as though she’d exhausted a decade’s worth of blind-box openings in one go.

If they found identifying items, they carefully repacked them, setting them aside for future claims by the deceased’s families.

If not, they rummaged through the contents.

What they uncovered was nothing short of eye-opening.

In one anonymous pervert’s pouch, Yan Luoyue found red, yellow, purple, and mandarin-duck-patterned bellybands—along with countless handkerchiefs, sachets, embroidered socks, and shoes.

How did she know the owner was a pervert?

The bellybands were all different sizes, of course!

Not to mention the traces of makeup and alcohol stains on many of the fabrics.

At the bottom lay deer antlers, tiger… appendages, and even [censored], leaving Yan Luoyue staring in disbelief.

At least the owner had some sense of privacy, leaving no identifying items behind.

He must have known that losing this pouch would be a social disaster.

Other cultivators were more… eccentric.

One young novice, clearly penniless, had filled his pouch with cringe-worthy diaries.

The author dubbed himself "The One True Lord of Thunder, Lightning, Heaven’s Collapse, Earth’s Ruin, and the Eight Desolates of the Cosmos," while referring to his crush as "The Ice Butterfly, Jade Dream, Glazed Rose, Mystic Maiden."

His first battle? A "shameful alliance" with the "Crooked-Nose, Tearing-Eyes Hall Master" and the "Blood-Crazed Demon" to defeat the "Foul Marsh’s Mud-Thief."

Reading between the lines, Yan Luoyue pieced together the truth:

The "True Lord" had likely stumbled upon two deformed-mouth demons and a bloodsucking demon beating up some mud-dwelling creatures near the demonic seal.

Seizing the chance, he’d snatched a half-dead mud-dweller and fled, thus cementing his "legendary, world-shaking debut."

Yan Luoyue: "…"

She realized that, much like modern D drives, storage pouches were the ultimate secrets best burned upon death.

Honestly, she began contemplating a new business venture: self-destructing storage pouches for the deceased. Market disruption? Guaranteed.

Lost in thought, she noticed Wu Manshuang flipping intently through an illustrated manual.

The pages depicted entangled figures.

One glance froze Yan Luoyue in place.

Wait, wasn’t this…?

Wu Manshuang explained, "It seems to be a cultivation manual, but I haven’t deciphered the qi circulation paths yet."

"No…"

Yan Luoyue twitched as she took the thick, heavy book.

The cover read: The Ultimate 9,999 Erotic Art Plates of the Cultivation World—The Only Book You’ll Ever Need! Buy It! Buy It!

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Huh. So even cultivation novels had clickbait titles now?

Also—Little Wu shouldn’t be reading this!

…………

Amid the blind boxes, Yan Luoyue did strike gold.

One anonymous pouch held two "mirror-image tree seeds" mixed among ordinary flower seeds—a discovery that sparked inspiration.

As Yan Luoyue grew older, her safety improved, but she no longer had the advantage of proportional damage reflection.

With her fifth birthday approaching, her health pool would soon hit 100,000 points.

Trading damage proportionally no longer made sense.

Equal-damage exchange, however, was worth exploring.

The Heartbound Stone she’d acquired years ago enabled proportional damage but couldn’t facilitate equal exchange.

Thus, she needed a new material—and "mirror fruits" fit perfectly.

These metallic-hued fruits grew only on mirror trees, split sharply into black and white halves, reminiscent of the poisoned apple from Snow White.

The most fascinating thing was that no matter what kind of marks others made on the fruit, it would replicate them identically on the other half.

This type of fruit was already exceedingly rare, and its seeds were even harder to come by. No one knew how it had gotten mixed in with the pearl flower seeds.

Fortunately, Yan Luoyue had a sharp eye and spotted it among the pile of seeds at a glance. Otherwise, this long-neglected seed might never have seen the light of day again.

All the storage pouches with identifiable owners were carefully collected by Yan Luoyue, who planned to post notices for their return.

As for the unmarked ones, she only took materials that interested her and handed the rest—pouches and all—to Wu Manshuang.

When Wu Manshuang insisted on refusing, Yan Luoyue had no choice but to take a symbolic handful of spirit stones.

Over the years, she had crafted artifacts, made storage pouches, and profited greatly from selling demon-slaying tools, amassing a fortune that could truly be called substantial.

In contrast, the snake boy, who hadn’t even received nine years of compulsory education, was so poor that his tattered clothes jingled with every move.

"These are all unmarked, standard storage pouches. If you ever run short on funds, selling one could fetch you ten or twelve spirit stones," Yan Luoyue advised as she walked, chattering away.

"As for artifacts you don’t need, don’t sell them to pawnshops—they’ll lowball you! Try to figure out how the artifacts work first, then set up a stall at the market—Moonlit Market seems like a good choice—so you can negotiate a fair price before selling…"

Wu Manshuang kept his face turned toward Yan Luoyue, nodding earnestly at every word she said, as if she were imparting some profound cultivation technique rather than business advice. It made her feel a little guilty.

…Wait, was this naive little snake the type to accidentally sell himself along with the goods?

She remembered Wu Manshuang had always been generous to a fault since childhood.

When he truly had nothing to exchange, he would leave behind one of his jade-green snake scales as a memento.

Those stunning scales were scattered everywhere, and Yan Luoyue alone had already collected three.

Lost in thought, Yan Luoyue stepped out of the cave and looked up to see Shen Jingxuan sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, chanting sutras—likely performing last rites for the ancient tree that had already ascended.

As a monastic, Jingxuan truly had a compassionate heart…

Before Yan Luoyue could finish that thought, her half-formed smile froze on her lips.

Wait, unless she was mistaken, wasn’t Jingxuan reciting demon-subjugation scriptures instead of funeral rites?

So "eradicating demons to the last" meant "not even sparing them in the afterlife"?

Hearing Yan Luoyue’s approach, Shen Jingxuan pressed her palms together in greeting and stood gracefully.

"Amitabha. Luoyue, Benefactor Wu, have you finished your business?"

Yan Luoyue knew the young nun adhered strictly to her vows, living frugally and abstaining from worldly possessions.

"Yes. I found some suitable materials—enough to forge a staff for you."

Shen Jingxuan smiled and nodded.

She then suggested, "Though the evil here has been purged, others may still wander into this place by mistake. Perhaps we should mark the path back to the entrance to prevent future travelers from suffering."

Marking the path wasn’t necessary.

Once back at school, Yan Luoyue would report this to the teachers, and the Guiyuan Sect would surely send someone to seal off this den.

Still, Shen Jingxuan’s words reminded her of something.

"Right, let’s dismantle that illusionary forest first."

Neither of the other two objected, so the trio set off toward the woods.

Yan Luoyue walked with light steps—the exit was found, and once the forest was gone, she could go home.

Wu Manshuang’s steps were slightly hesitant, his veiled gaze drifting toward Yan Luoyue now and then.

Now that they were safe, he secretly wished the path could stretch longer, much longer.

As for Shen Jingxuan…

"Jingxuan," Yan Luoyue called out for the umpteenth time, "you’re going the wrong way."

"...Oh."

One hoped the road would shorten, another wished it would lengthen, and the third kept wondering—Was this really the way we came? I’m sure it wasn’t this direction!

With three different moods, they finally arrived at the edge of the illusory woods.

Shen Jingxuan studied the trees, and instantly, thousands of identical illusions blossomed on the branches.

The "Violent Nun" clenched her fists, twin dragons of flame surging from her sleeves as she single-handedly took on the forest in its full glory, her movements fierce and heroic.

After just one glance at the illusions, Shen Jingxuan closed her eyes, fingering her prayer beads.

"This humble nun’s resolve is weak, her cultivation lacking—where the mind wavers, so does the heart."

Yan Luoyue faced the flower-filled woods, and the illusions shifted again.

This time, the star of the show was none other than Yan Yu.

Sister Yan Yu held a rolling pin, her smile sweet and gentle as she cooed,

"Since you’re back so soon, Luoyue, I’ll just beat you once. I won’t peel your shell or turn you into turtle meatballs."

Yan Luoyue: "…"

She covered her face and wailed, "Is this really all I amount to in my own illusions?!"

Only Wu Manshuang, blessed with both a blindfold and a bowed head, kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground, refusing to look up.

But since the three had come together, they would face public embarrassment together.

Yan Luoyue wouldn’t let him escape unscathed.

In an instant, a mischievous hand tugged sharply at the hem of Wu Manshuang’s cloak.

Caught off guard, he stumbled, his hood slipping back and his posture shifting from bowed to upright.

His voice even cracked slightly: "Don’t touch—"

At that moment, the culprit seized the white cloth tied behind his head and yanked it free with glee.

"Next time, don’t tie it with a slipknot," a playful voice chimed from behind him.

The little girl darted away, laughing mischievously.

Wu Manshuang barely had time to turn before his widened eyes met the sea of illusionary blossoms.

"!!!"

In an instant, the layers of peach blossoms transformed into a forest of towering green trees.

Countless branches sagged under the weight of tiny, cup-sized, pale-green turtles.

A gust of wind sent them tumbling down like hailstones onto the thick carpet of leaves, where they poked out their round heads and flat little limbs, crawling leisurely in every direction.

"…"

The sight stunned all three witnesses.

Wu Manshuang hurriedly shut his eyes, fumbling to retrieve his blindfold.

Shen Jingxuan paused her chanting, utterly bewildered.

As for Yan Luoyue, she let out an exaggerated sigh and dangled the white cloth just out of Wu Manshuang’s reach.

"Oh, come on—you can’t deny you’re a little snake now."

Yan Luoyue teased in a tone that saw through everything, "Then are you trying to say you’re my clan’s natural enemy, that your family are crocodiles or weasels, and you want to throw a banquet with all these little turtles?"

"......"

Wu Manshuang struggled for a long time before finally retrieving his white blindfold.

Silently, he tied the gauze back over his eyes.

This time, he knotted it at the back of his head—seven tight, unyielding knots.

Then, Wu Manshuang tugged his cloak down, lower and lower, until his head was completely wrapped in the fabric and his arms, making his aura and appearance resemble a turtle demon even more than Yan Luoyue, a purebred turtle herself. Only then did he answer in a barely audible whisper, "...I-I’m a little snake."

After that, he pressed his lips tightly together and refused to say another word.

Later, when they began destroying the troublesome Illusionary Trees, Wu Manshuang charged ahead with unmatched fervor, leading by example.

During this public service effort, Wu Manshuang’s contributions were so remarkable that Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but look at him with newfound respect.

"Wow—" Yan Luoyue exclaimed, sharing her discovery with Shen Jingxuan. "I just meant to prank him a little, but who knew it’d have such an indirect effect!"

Shen Jingxuan pondered for a moment, then patted Yan Luoyue’s shoulder and advised, "Luoyue, just be a turtle."

Yan Luoyue: "......"

......

After wrapping up their work, the three of them left through the burrow’s exit.

When Yan Luoyue lifted her head and saw the deep blue sky and twinkling stars again, she unconsciously let out a long sigh.

Only when her feet touched solid ground once more, breathing in the fresh scent of grass from the wetlands, did she realize how much she had missed the human world.

At least here, unlike the demon realm, she could tell east from west the moment she stepped on land!

Shaking her head with emotion, Yan Luoyue turned to Wu Manshuang and extended an invitation.

"Are you alone out here? If so, why not come with me?"

The turtle clan was easygoing—guests were welcomed but never pressured to stay.

If the little snake agreed, he’d surely live comfortably among them.

Besides, Yan Luoyue was incredibly wealthy. Supporting a friend for a while was no issue at all.

At her invitation, Wu Manshuang trembled violently.

This was something he had never dared to dream of, even in his most beautiful fantasies.

All he had to do was take one step forward, or even just nod, and the dream would become reality.

But when Wu Manshuang lowered his head, the first thing he saw were his bandage-wrapped hands.

In an instant, his burning heart plunged into an icy abyss, freezing over endlessly.

By all reason and emotion, he shouldn’t refuse any request from her.

But... but.

Wu Manshuang hung his head and shook it with great difficulty.

"Ah... you don’t want to?"

Yan Luoyue was disappointed but didn’t press further.

After all, she understood that some people simply preferred solitude, even when their basic needs were met.

She quickly asked another question, "Then where do you live? Can you tell me? I’ll visit you during holidays."

"You..." Wu Manshuang only realized how hoarse his voice had become when he spoke. It was so strained that even talking felt laborious. "You shouldn’t look for me."

"Never meeting me again would be best for everyone."

He knew Yan Luoyue was bold, clever, and sharp-witted.

So as he spoke, Wu Manshuang removed his glove from under his cloak, lightly brushed the back of Yan Luoyue’s hand with his fingertip, and immediately withdrew.

The effect was instantaneous.

Yan Luoyue’s eyes widened as she tilted her head slightly, her gaze drifting unconsciously toward the health bar above her head.

In less than half a second of contact, her HP had dropped by over 3,000!

Seriously?

When she was little and had only 1 HP, a single glance from the little snake would have killed her instantly.

Now, even with 10,000 HP, she could only withstand three touches from him?

Yan Luoyue stared at Wu Manshuang in shock: Friend, your growth rate is downright unreasonable!

Wu Manshuang murmured, "This is already the least toxic I can make it."

Taking a deep breath, as if those words explained everything, Wu Manshuang turned decisively and strode away.

"Hey, wait—"

Yan Luoyue quickly snapped out of her daze and immediately tried to stop him, wanting to discuss solutions.

For example, what material were his gloves made of? She was an artificer—she could craft better ones for him.

Or, when did his toxicity peak? When was it weaker? They could experiment with controlled variables.

Most importantly, her HP was about to hit 100,000! A 3,000 drop was nothing to panic over!

Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

If he stayed, they could figure it out together.

But before Yan Luoyue could voice her pleas, Wu Manshuang swiftly lowered his blindfold and fixed her with a gaze.

His obsidian-black eyes, glistening with unshed tears, looked even more dazzling and precious.

The paralyzing effect of his stare left Yan Luoyue frozen in place.

Yet even immobilized, she clearly saw the indescribable sorrow overflowing in Wu Manshuang’s eyes.

"...Thank you."

With those words, Wu Manshuang instantly transformed into a small snake.

The emerald-green serpent was just as lustrous as when they first met, though his body had grown significantly longer.

If before, he could coil around Yan Luoyue’s wrist like a bracelet, now, if he wrapped himself neatly around her arm, he’d resemble a jade bangle.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‍little green snake vanished into the overgrown grass, disappearing without a trace.

The paralysis lasted only a few seconds before Yan Luoyue regained movement.

She stubbornly parted the grass, but the snake was already gone.

Yan Luoyue stomped her foot in frustration—that Medusa-like ability was too unfair! She’d been tricked by paralysis again.

Tonight, I’m forging a pair of max-resistance sunglasses!

Shen Jingxuan approached and patted Yan Luoyue’s shoulder in consolation.

"Patron Wu has a heart to restrain evil, for the sake of all living beings."

"I get that he’s doing this for my own good," Yan Luoyue said glumly.

After all, neither Shen Jingxuan nor Wu Manshuang knew that Yan Luoyue’s HP multiplied by ten every year.

That was why Shen Jingxuan hadn’t intervened to stop Wu Manshuang from leaving.

But Yan Luoyue still felt a pang in her chest.

It was like watching a beloved little cat—one she’d adored for years and often seen around—slip away again.

The worst part was knowing that cat wouldn’t fare well on its own.

It would scavenge through trash, slink along the least noticeable corners, and when sick, have no one to lick its wounds but itself.

Moreover, not even a pet owner would spend money to send it to cram school!

This kitty most likely remains illiterate—it probably still can’t recite the multiplication table!

Her wandering gaze suddenly fixed on a particular spot, abruptly cutting through the tangled thoughts in her mind.

Yan Luoyue stared at the target in her line of sight, shaking her head with a mix of exasperation and fondness.

Shen Jingxuan studied her curiously, barely opening her mouth to ask, “Why are you laughing, Luoyue?”

Before she could speak, Yan Luoyue straightened up, holding a pair of tweezers between her fingers—their tips delicately pinching a shimmering emerald-green snake scale.

“The fourth one,” Yan Luoyue murmured.

The three scales she had collected before had grown faint with time, their lingering traces nearly undetectable.

But talk about perfect timing.

Yan Luoyue never expected that little green snake’s habit of shedding scales wherever it went would remain unchanged after all these years.

Shen Jingxuan took a step closer, listening as her younger companion muttered under her breath.

“I’m not waiting to collect seven to summon a dragon—once my birthday passes this year, I’m going straight for ‘kidnap over adoption’!”

Shen Jingxuan: ???

Did she just hear something… highly illegal?