Jian Dan focused her mind, directing her divine sense toward the magnolia flower floating in her consciousness. Like a zoomed-in lens, the artifact's space came into view—only a hundred square meters were visible, the rest shrouded in mist. At the center stood a bamboo hut, beside which lay a well.
Around the hut grew an array of spiritual plants—herbs, flowers, and vines ranging from first to third tier, their vibrant colors climbing the bamboo walls, nearly obscuring them entirely.
For Jian Dan, these plants would be useful up to the Foundation Establishment stage—a decent start.
Her divine sense drifted into the hut, where the interior was far larger than the exterior suggested—clearly enhanced by spatial arrays.
The first thing that caught her eye was an ink-wash painting—a serene landscape of distant mountains, a forest, an octagonal pavilion, and a winding stream. The scene exuded tranquility, tinged with loneliness. In the bottom-left corner was an inscription: "By Jian Qingyue."
Beneath the painting stood a rectangular table crafted from Soul-Calming Wood, its soothing fragrance permeating the space, easing Jian Dan's spirit.
On the table rested a jade testing disk, divided into five sections representing the Five Elements (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth). At its center was a translucent crystal orb—an ancient spirit root testing tool, capable of measuring spiritual roots, bone structure, and innate talent simultaneously.
In front of the table lay three meditation mats, woven from sixth-tier Soul-Condensing Grass and Spirit-Gathering Vines. Cultivating on these would enhance both spiritual power and soul refinement—a rare treasure.
The rest of the hut was simple, its walls lined with bamboo.
Jian Dan withdrew her divine sense. Without cultivation, she couldn't fully explore the space. Her first step was body tempering—purifying her physique to unlock its potential.
She fetched a cup and headed to the bathroom, filling the tub two-thirds full. Then, dipping her hand into the warm water, she channeled the well water from the space into it, stopping only when the bath grew crystal-clear. She also filled the cup with the same water.
Stripping down, she sat cross-legged in the tub and drank the well water in one gulp.
The liquid was cool, sweet, and electrifying—far from ordinary. This was high-grade spiritual spring water, and she hoped it would optimize her constitution. Her breathing slowed as she relaxed, eyes closed, submerged in the warm water. Steam curled around her, making her seem almost ethereal—as if she might vanish at any moment.
Then, it began.
A force erupted from within, ripping through her body—organs, bones, meridians, blood, skin, hair—layer by layer, like waves of dissolving ice. The pain was excruciating, then numbing, as if her very existence was being erased and rewritten.
Her enhanced divine sense made every sensation agonizingly clear. She bit down hard, refusing to scream.
Time blurred.
Just when she felt her soul might scatter, the waves reversed. Like a rewinding film, the destruction healed—skin mending, blood purifying, bones reforging. A silvery glow flashed, and suddenly, it was as if none of it had happened.
Her lashes fluttered open. Exhaling a turbid breath, she rose from the now-filthy water, rinsed off, and returned to her room. It was past midnight.
This time, when she reached out to the Magnolia Immortal Artifact, space twisted around her—and she stood inside the bamboo hut. She placed her hand on the testing disk.
Five-colored lights flashed in sequence—gold, green, blue, red, brown—growing brighter until they seemed to overflow.
This meant:
—Five Spiritual Roots (all balanced, indicating Chaos spiritual Roots).
—Bone Potential: 90+ (near-perfect).
—Innate Talent: Upper-Middle Tier (represented by the cyan light that shot into the painting).
The landscape swirled into mist, vanishing to reveal a man in flowing cyan robes. He turned slowly—elegant, serene, his gaze gentle as it settled on Jian Dan.