Chapter 3: Saved?
After reading the words on the wall, Yuan Zhao shifted her gaze to the skeleton on the stone platform. She saw its hands folded neatly in front of its body, and in the palms lay a pristine white jade token.
The jade token was about a finger long and half a finger wide. It was milky white, flawless, and obviously of great value.
According to Bai Yi Ke, this token was called the Tongxin Jade, a family heirloom. The material used to craft it came from a unique Tongxin Jade Ore found within a meteorite from beyond the heavens.
Yuan Zhao had no idea what Tongxin Jade Ore actually was.
However, Bai Yi Ke’s self-created cultivation technique, along with the ancestral martial arts he had practiced, were both stored within this jade token.
Struggling, Yuan Zhao pushed herself up from the stone platform, reached out, and took the jade token from Bai Yi Ke’s hands. Then she pressed it against her glabella.
The wall text had explained how to extract the techniques from the jade token.
In an instant, a torrent of information surged into Yuan Zhao’s mind, leaving her dizzy and overwhelmed.
She shut her eyes tightly and focused on digesting the information.
A long time later, she slowly opened her eyes. By now, she had fully grasped the contents of the jade token.
Bai Yi Ke’s ancestral martial art was called the “Yin-Yang Ode”, while the modified cultivation technique he developed from it was named the “Tai Xuan Canon.”
Besides these two internal arts, the Tongxin Jade also contained two powerful combat techniques passed down in Bai Yi Ke’s family.
One was called “Heaven-Sweeping Hand,” the other, “Hellgate Blade.”
The “Yin-Yang Ode” and “Tai Xuan Canon” were inner cultivation methods for harnessing internal energy, while “Heaven-Sweeping Hand” and “Hellgate Blade” were combat moves used in battle.
After gaining a general understanding of the jade’s contents, Yuan Zhao finally understood why her physical strength was so unusual, and why she had been able to suddenly unleash great power when fighting the old wolf.
This body’s original owner had also practiced martial arts and had cultivated internal energy.
But since Yuan Zhao hadn’t inherited the original owner’s memories, she had no idea what techniques were practiced, nor how to control the inner power.
Recalling the jade’s content, Yuan Zhao instinctively sat cross-legged and began cultivating.
To train in martial arts, one must first understand the human body—what meridians are, where the dantian is located, and how internal energy flows.
It must be said, Yuan Zhao had a gift for learning. Following the technique’s instructions, she quickly sensed her meridians, located her dantian, and discovered the internal energy flowing within.
She tried guiding the energy, and everything went smoothly.
Magically, when the internal energy reached the wound on her back, she clearly felt the pain lessen.
This discovery made her ecstatic.
Who would’ve thought inner energy could heal wounds?
Next, Yuan Zhao began attempting to cultivate the Tai Xuan Canon.
As a profound cultivation method, the first step of Tai Xuan Canon was to “resonate with the heavens and earth.”
What set this method apart was that it required the cultivator to become one with nature and draw power directly from the universe.
Of course, no one had ever successfully cultivated this method before, so no one knew whether it was truly effective.
It carried considerable risk.
But Yuan Zhao was willing to take that risk.
If she succeeded, she’d go from bicycle to motorcycle.
If not, it hopefully wouldn’t end too badly.
Bai Yi Ke was, after all, a top-tier martial artist. Even if the method didn’t reach legendary results, it shouldn’t be totally useless, right?
The Tai Xuan Canon was divided into four stages: Foundation Building, Spirit Condensation, Dao Platform, and Unity with Heaven.
If one could reach the “Unity with Heaven” stage, they’d essentially become the “immortal” that Bai Yi Ke theorized about.
Yuan Zhao immersed herself in cultivation, trying to reach the state of resonance with nature described in the method.
Time passed unnoticed. She was too absorbed to be aware of it.
Until her stomach growled loudly—only then did she have to stop cultivating.
So, what had she achieved?
Nothing. Not a single thing.
She couldn’t enter the so-called “resonance with the heavens and earth” state at all.
Now that she was starving, there was no way she could concentrate. She got up and was about to drink from the pool. Because there was no food, she’d have to fill up with water.
Just as she bent down to drink, the old wolf suddenly walked over with a scorpion in its mouth and dropped it in front of her.
Yuan Zhao asked in surprise, “Where did you get this?”
The old wolf glanced down proudly at the claw marks on the scorpion, clearly showing off.
Yuan Zhao used her dagger to gut and clean the scorpion, removed the claws and tail, then, suppressing her disgust, ate it. Following the wolf’s lead, she went to a corner of the cave.
Lifting a large stone, several scorpions immediately scurried out.
Yuan Zhao was quick. She grabbed a few rocks and hurled them precisely, killing one on the spot.
Excited, she ran over, picked up the dead scorpion, cleaned it, and was about to eat it—when she hesitated. She turned to the wolf and asked:
“Did you eat one too?”
The wolf looked mysterious and didn’t answer.
“Here, you take it.”
Yuan Zhao tossed the scorpion in front of the wolf and resumed flipping rocks to find more.
Luckily, the unique environment of the cave made it a scorpion nest. She managed to catch twenty or thirty.
But she didn’t eat them all at once. After gutting them, she set them aside to dry, saving them as rations.
After a few scorpions and a full belly of water, Yuan Zhao resumed her cultivation.
Two days passed in a blink.
During these two days, Yuan Zhao alternated between cultivating and catching scorpions to stockpile food for escaping the desert.
Now she had over a hundred dried scorpions stored. The cave was nearly scorpion-free.
Her waterskin was also completely filled.
Time to leave.
How far had her cultivation in Tai Xuan Canon progressed?
Yuan Zhao wanted to curse. The Tai Xuan Canon was crap. Resonance with heaven and earth—complete nonsense. She had no clue how to begin.
The only blessing was that with her growing mastery of the Yin-Yang Ode, her control over inner energy had become increasingly precise. Her back wound had also stopped worsening.
While internal energy couldn’t heal the wound completely, just stopping it from getting worse was enough for her.
She also discovered something else: when she wore the Tongxin Jade, her internal energy circulated much faster.
Clearly, the jade accelerated cultivation.
Now Yuan Zhao was seriously considering switching to the Yin-Yang Ode. It wasn’t as difficult to start as the Tai Xuan Canon.
And the Yin-Yang Ode was already a profound martial art. Training in it definitely wouldn’t be a waste.
But first, she had to escape the desert. If she couldn’t get out of this cursed place, everything else was meaningless.
Hanging the jade token around her neck, Yuan Zhao got ready to leave.
The jade hung from a white string made of some unknown material. Cool to the touch and elegant in appearance.
After two days of exploration, Yuan Zhao had already found a way out.
She first walked to Bai Yi Ke’s skeleton, knelt down, and solemnly knocked her head to the ground three times.
She had received his legacy, which meant she inherited his mantle. It was only proper to pay respects to her master.
Then she groped behind a large rock in the corner.
Soon, the stone wall rumbled open.
A deep, dark passage appeared.
She had discovered this mechanism by accident while catching scorpions.
Taking a deep breath, Yuan Zhao and the wolf stepped into the passage.
Before leaving, they drank heartily from the pool. After all, there would be no such water source once they left. They only had one small waterskin between them—barely enough to carry much water.
Half a day later, beneath a sand dune, Yuan Zhao and the old wolf climbed out of a sand pit, one after the other.
Strangely enough, the moment they emerged, the sand pit swirled and vanished without a trace.
Yuan Zhao stared at the spot where the vortex disappeared, took a deep breath, then said to the old wolf,
“Let’s go.”
“Woo~”
The old wolf let out a low whimper and followed closely behind her.
As the pair walked away, their footprints stretched into the distance, until a hot wind swept over and erased them, covering up all traces of their passage.
Beneath the blazing sun, Yuan Zhao was drenched in sweat, her body rapidly losing moisture. She had miscalculated—they should not have set out just before noon!
The old wolf was panting heavily, tongue hanging out as it struggled alongside her.
Time passed quickly. The sun rose and set, then rose again. Yuan Zhao and the old wolf had now been trudging through the desert for four or five more days.
By now, they had completely run out of food and water.
The lack of nourishment left both human and wolf utterly exhausted.
Worse yet, Yuan Zhao’s internal energy was depleting due to the physical strain, and her injuries began to worsen once more.
She leaned heavily on a dry wooden stick as she forced herself forward. Her pace was no faster than a scorpion crawling.
Her face had been scorched black by the sun, and yet even in such a state, she looked bloodless.
Veins bulged on her forehead, and her brows were tightly furrowed—clear signs of extreme exertion.
Yuan Zhao didn’t dare relax for even a second, mentally or physically. She was terrified, terrified that even a slight lapse would cause her to collapse, never to get up again.
She had reached her limits, both in body and spirit.
The old wolf was in just as pitiful a state. It limped along, eyes dull and lifeless, its once-gray fur now so caked with dirt it looked pitch black, tangled in matted clumps.
When a gust of wind blew, it swayed dangerously, as though it could fall at any moment.
After painstakingly climbing another sand dune, Yuan Zhao suddenly widened her eyes in disbelief.
She saw something—a town!
In the distance, a small town appeared in their line of sight!
Was it real?
Or was it a hallucination born from her final moments?
Or perhaps a mirage?
Yuan Zhao’s heart pounded violently. Without thinking, she rushed toward the town, not even noticing when she dropped her walking stick.
The old wolf followed, tailing her excitedly.
But they were on a downhill slope, and rushing too fast. After just a few steps, Yuan Zhao fell headlong, tumbling uncontrollably down the slope.
During the roll, her injuries worsened again.
The old wolf also lost its footing and rolled down alongside her—human and wolf tumbled all the way to the base of the sand dune.
Yuan Zhao tried to get up, but she was too exhausted. She barely lifted herself before falling hard to the ground again.
She struggled desperately, but not only did she fail to stand, she exhausted the last of her strength.
Lying flat on the ground, she stared weakly at the distant town, whether real or illusion, and tears fell uncontrollably from her eyes.
Why? Why?!
She had been so close to rescue, why did she have to collapse here?
If only she had held on just a little longer!
There’s nothing more despairing than seeing hope right in front of you, yet being utterly unable to reach it.
Filled with overwhelming unwillingness, Yuan Zhao lost consciousness.
The last thing she saw before blacking out was a pair of paws walking up to her. She didn’t even have the strength to lift her head and look at the old wolf’s face.
‘Is the wolf coming to eat me now?’ she thought.
‘Well, fine. If I have to die, let the old wolf eat me. Why not?’
With that thought, her vision plunged into darkness.
But she was wrong, the old wolf had no intention of eating her.
Instead, it bit into her collar and began dragging her, inch by inch, toward the town.
Each step it took was incredibly difficult, yet its cloudy eyes burned with unshakable resolve.
If not for Yuan Zhao feeding it, the old wolf would likely have died alone somewhere in the desert.
So no matter what, it would not abandon her.
But the truth was—they were both too exhausted…
Barely holding on.
And the wolf was old. Even walking on its own was tough, let alone dragging someone.
Every few steps, it had to stop and rest for a while, panting heavily, gasping for breath.
Still, human and wolf moved little by little toward the town, getting closer with each agonizing inch.
But even the old wolf had its limits.
Very soon, it too collapsed beside Yuan Zhao, completely out of strength, and lost consciousness.
Just before blacking out, though, it seemed to hear a voice:
“Huh? Where did this little girl come from?”
An old man carrying a basket on his back appeared before Yuan Zhao and the wolf.
“So pitiful…”
A trace of sorrow crossed the elder’s face.
After a moment’s hesitation, he picked up the scrawny old wolf and placed it in his basket, then gently carried Yuan Zhao in his arms, walking step by step toward the town.
So the town… was real. It wasn’t a hallucination or a mirage.
No one knew how much time passed before Yuan Zhao slowly woke from the chaos in her mind.
She opened her eyes to see a worn-out pillow and a rough earthen wall.
She was lying on a bed. The wound on her back had been bandaged, but blood had already seeped through the cloth—indicating the injury was still serious.
‘Where am I? I’m… not dead?’
Just as Yuan Zhao was wondering this, a voice came from the doorway, filled with joy:
“Big sister, you’re awake?! That’s great!”
