When Golden Finger Meets Salted Fish

Yun Qingyu found herself saddled with a clingy “little spirit cat.”

From attempting to nuzzle her hand affectionately to flopping on her foot in a bid for attention, this “little spirit cat” was clearly no ordinary feline in terms of enthusiasm and shamelessness. For a moment, Yun Qingyu even wondered if her peculiar constitution—the one that caused everything she raised to die and made animals despise her—had suddenly healed without treatment.

However, reality proved this was merely wishful thinking. To confirm this, she would only need to take a stroll through the sect’s spirit beast garden upon her return, where she would keenly feel how unwelcome she was in the eyes of those spirit beasts.

But that was a matter for later. For now, Yun Qingyu merely paused briefly before dropping the “little spirit cat” that was trying to charm her. She then swiftly mounted her sword and departed. She admitted the “little spirit cat” was adorable, with soft fur and paw pads that felt nice to touch. More remarkably, it was willing to approach her affectionately. But for the sake of its life, she couldn’t take it with her.

Felines are naturally agile, and with Yun Qingyu’s perfectly controlled toss, Jiang Mo managed to land steadily despite her panic. She then stared wide-eyed at the receding figure of the woman flying away on her sword, instinctively taking a few steps in pursuit.

In the depths of the forest, only the sound of wind broke the silence.

The system felt somewhat awkward. It had observed how hard its host had tried to cling to a potential caretaker and knew she had just resolved to be as clingy as a tiger-skin plaster. However, the potential caretakers in the cultivation world were too powerful. When someone could simply fly away on a sword, you couldn’t block their path by lying down, nor could you stick to them like a plaster.

It was utterly frustrating.

After a moment, the system finally organized its thoughts to offer some consolation, when it heard its host speak in a distant voice: “She was fleeing in panic just now, wasn’t she?” Then, looking at the system, she asked, “Am I really that frightening?”

The little white tiger had only seen her reflection in the stream. The image in the water was just a soft, small tiger cub. Her fur wasn’t even fully grown in, and she wasn’t much bigger than a kitten. Frightening was certainly not the word; adorable would be more accurate. If the reflection hadn’t been herself, and she had encountered such a newborn tiger cub, she would have wanted to pet it.

It was this confidence in her soft, cute fur that had led Jiang Mo to devise such a simple and direct plan to gain attention. Alas, her chosen caretaker had a heart of stone, not only rejecting her advances but fleeing. It was a blow to her tiger pride!

The system hurried to comfort its emotionally fragile host: “No, no, this was just an accident.”

Jiang Mo remained depressed for quite a while, unable to understand why she had failed. She lay down on the spot, her fluffy paws idly playing with the neglected spirit fruit on the ground, no longer interested in it. She had just leveled up, and with her status fully restored, she no longer felt hungry. Moreover, compared to the “experience jackpot” that had just run away, the spirit fruit held no appeal for the tiger.

The system’s light orb flickered, wanting to ask the host about her future plans but seeming hesitant to speak. After a long pause, it finally chose to change the subject: “Host, host, you just leveled up. Don’t you want to check your new character panel?”

When she first leveled up, Jiang Mo had been somewhat excited, but now she felt only listless. However, hearing the system’s words, she moved her tiger paw and opened the newly updated character panel:

[Host: Jiang Mo

Race: White Tiger

Class: Divine Beast

Level: 2

Combat Power: 10

Experience: 3/10

Points: 0

Potential: ∞

Skills: Bloodline Inheritance (Not Activated)]

The congenital weakness debuff was still there, and the history messages were sparse, only reminding her that she had gained 5 experience points, without even noting what kind of pill she had taken earlier. As for the next level up, she would either need to sleep for another week or try fighting some small monsters. At least her combat power had doubled now, so she should be better off than her previous utterly weak state, right?

Sensing that its host finally showed some interest in progress, the system perked up. The light orb circled the little white tiger: “Host, host, do you want to level up? You only need 7 more experience points to reach the next level.”

The system’s excitement immediately dampened Jiang Mo’s fleeting interest: Bad mood, just want to argue.jpg

The little white tiger flopped down completely, like a salted fish: “No monster fighting. Sleep.”

The system choked, then tried to reason with her: “Host, you can’t be so lazy. This time you only need 7 experience points. Are you really going to sleep for 7 days? You’ll starve to death! Your level is still low, so it’s easy to level up. If you go fight monsters, you could earn those 7 experience points in half a day.” It then muttered, “Besides, if you just eat and sleep like this, you won’t get any points as rewards, and you can’t even activate the mall.”

The little white tiger’s ears twitched, seemingly catching a word: “What did you just say? Mall?”

As she spoke, Jiang Mo redirected her gaze to the panel before her, carefully searching until she found a small icon in the corner that resembled a mall. However, as the system had mentioned, it was grayed out, likely inactive.

Seeing her interest, the system quickly said, “Yes, the mall. Products from countless dimensions—if the host can think of it, the mall can find it. But the prerequisite is that you have points.”

This claim was quite grandiose, but having experienced transmigration and rebirth through the system, Jiang Mo didn’t doubt its words. Her heart warmed, seemingly finding a goal beyond mere survival. She finally recovered some spirit from the blow of rejection and asked, “How many points are needed to activate the mall?”

The system, rarely seeing its host show interest, immediately answered, “A minimum of 100 points to activate the mall.”

Jiang Mo heard the system’s mechanical voice say “100 points,” but her eyes were fixed on the glaring “0” in the points column of her panel. The bit of enthusiasm she had just mustered instantly cooled, as if doused with cold water.

The useless little tiger sighed hopelessly and lay back down. Never mind, lying flat was probably happier.

◆◇◆◇◆

Yun Qingyu, with her cultivation at the peak of the Golden Core realm and only a step away from the Nascent Soul stage, could easily outpace a newborn “little spirit cat” when flying on her sword. While she couldn’t cover thousands of miles in an instant, shaking off the tiny creature was no challenge at all.

Indeed, she had escaped with ease; the “little spirit cat” hadn’t even reacted before she was gone.

However, after flying away on her sword, Yun Qingyu didn’t feel the relief she expected. On the contrary, the further she flew, the more she found herself thinking about that clingy, mischievous “little spirit cat” that had tried to stick to her. This was highly unusual. Cultivators were known for their clear minds, especially those who had reached the Golden Core stage. They were supposed to have unwavering wills, difficult to disturb by external matters.

Why should a mere “little spirit cat” she had encountered by chance occupy her thoughts?

At first, Yun Qingyu thought it was due to her childhood experiences, feeling regret and reluctance at not being able to adopt the “little spirit cat.” But the further she flew, the stronger her thoughts became, and she gradually realized something was amiss.

What was affecting her will?

Yun Qingyu halted her sword in mid-air, closed her eyes, and examined herself inwardly for a moment. She found her spiritual energy flowing smoothly and her mind clear, with nothing apparently wrong. After carefully checking three times, she finally had a revelation—there was nothing wrong, and she hadn’t been unconsciously influenced by anything. Those thoughts of concern and reluctance were simply feedback from her spiritual sense.

Just as she had earlier sensed while standing on the spirit boat that there was an opportunity for her in this secret realm, prompting her to come, now her spiritual sense was similarly reminding her that she might have brushed past her destined opportunity.

Could that clingy “little spirit cat” be her destined opportunity?

Yun Qingyu felt indescribably strange, but she couldn’t ignore her intuition. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally yielded to her instincts, turned around, and flew back the way she had come.

On the way, she pondered about the “little spirit cat,” wondering if it had run off after all this time. If it had already left, finding such a small spirit beast in this vast mountain forest would likely require some effort.

However, when she flew back to the original spot, what she saw from afar made her pause—the little spirit cat hadn’t left; it was still waiting in the same place. A red spirit fruit lay lonely on the ground, and the cat lay beside it, no longer as lively as when it had snatched the fruit from the eagle’s clutches. Occasionally, it would bat at the fruit with its paw, but with little interest. The entire cat exuded an air of dejection.

What was it waiting for? Could it be waiting for her?

Yun Qingyu couldn’t help but think this, and her heart, seemingly hard but actually soft, unconsciously softened even more. She dismounted from her flying sword and walked step by step towards the drooping “little spirit cat.”

The little white tiger’s ears twitched at the sound, and when it turned its head to see Yun Qingyu, its tiger eyes instantly lit up.