At that thought, Jiaoqiu placed his trembling hand upon one of the trash cans.
He didn't open it immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes for a long, silent moment. He knew perfectly well how these cans worked—the Curio that emerged depended entirely on luck.
How could he not know that?
To think he could obtain the exact object he wanted in just three tries—utter nonsense. He'd have a better chance hoping General Feixiao didn't win her next battle again.
And yet, when the moment truly came, he found he could no longer rely on his usual cold rationality.
For someone who had always trusted only in facts, he now found himself praying.
If any divine will truly existed in this vast universe, he wished it would grant him a single miracle.
He needed one—desperately.
Sylvester watched Jiaoqiu's tense posture and frowned slightly.
He began to wonder: even if Jiaoqiu did obtain the complete inheritance of the Renegade Immortals, would that truly untie the knot in his heart?
After all, mortals must die. Even if the people of the Xianzhou no longer fell in battle, death would still come for them in other ways.
While Sylvester mused, Jiaoqiu finally moved.
He yanked open the lid. A surge of green light burst skyward. His eyelids twitched—but he forced them shut, his expression flickering subtly.
He consoled himself in silence.
Normal. Perfectly normal. It's only the first can, after all.
As the glow faded, a tiny creature wriggled frantically in his hands.
[Ragout Rabbit: A special rabbit species from an unknown world. Its meat is tender, delicate, and said to be one of the finest culinary ingredients in existence.]
Sylvester said evenly, "That's a Ragout Rabbit, a top-grade ingredient. In one distant world, there was a pair of sword-wielding lovers who saved thousands. The turning point in their relationship—from strangers to friends—was when they shared a dish made from this very creature."
Jiaoqiu examined the little rabbit, his innate chef's instincts immediately evaluating it.
From its firm muscle lines alone, he could tell its meat was superb. And the story gave it a certain charm as well.
Had he been in a calmer state, he might have been delighted—and perhaps eagerly set about crafting a fine dish from it.
But now… he couldn't bring himself to care.
He met the rabbit's eyes—eyes full of desperate, trembling life.
Sigh… forget it.
He took out a rope, deftly tied the rabbit's paws, and tossed it aside once it could no longer escape.
Releasing it wasn't an option. Foxes eat rabbits—that's just nature. He'd figure out how to cook it later.
Then Jiaoqiu reached for the next can, his palm meeting the lid's chill surface—yet even that icy touch couldn't cool his restless heart.
Caught between reason and blind hope, he turned to superstition.
After muttering the name of the Curio he desired under his breath for a full minute, he suddenly pulled the lid open.
A burst of violet light flooded the room.
He didn't blink. Didn't flinch. Didn't care if the glare seared his eyes. He only wanted—needed—to see what it was, firsthand.
And as if the universe heard his silent plea, the light that answered him was—once again—violet.
"Ha… ha! Good. Very good."
He didn't smile. Didn't relax. He only stared—wide-eyed, unblinking—even as tears welled up from the strain.
When the light finally dimmed and his vision returned, he saw the Curio resting in his palm.
"…Another flower?" he murmured in disappointment.
He shook his head slowly.
He didn't know what it was for, but surely it had nothing to do with the Renegade Immortals' legacy.
He only hoped it wouldn't turn out like that earlier book—something that worked solely for some "rare chosen individual."
If both violet Curios turned out like that, he didn't know whether to laugh at his luck or curse it.
[Aromatic Silk Beauty: A rare spiritual herb famed across one distant land. Known as a treasure among heavenly flora, its mere presence purifies the air and drives away all toxins.]
Sylvester looked from the flower to Jiaoqiu, then let out a low hiss through his teeth.
Good thing Jiaoqiu didn't know where Teyvat was. If he somehow found Raiden Ei, combined her power with the Xianzhou's medical expertise, and added a genius poisoner's touch—he could probably bring apocalyptic havoc to the cosmos.
Sylvester spoke carefully: "Mr. Jiaoqiu, congratulations. This is the [Aromatic Silk Beauty], a natural nemesis to all poisons. It doesn't even need to be ingested—just keeping it nearby renders toxins harmless. If you're in the habit of brewing poisons, you can set it on your worktable. Even if you dipped your hands in venom—or drank a whole bowl of the stuff—you'd come to no harm."
At that, Jiaoqiu's ears twitched slightly, and for the first time in a while, a faint smile appeared on his face. "Heh… now this is interesting."
On the battlefield, nothing was forbidden when it came to victory. And off it—if someone provoked him—he'd never minded solving things with a touch of poison.
This Curio suited him perfectly.
He'd long been studying a poison that could kill on contact, but his combat strength was too weak, and his cultivation too shallow. Even handling the ingredients had been dangerous. General Feixiao, strong as she was, lacked medical expertise—asking her to help would've been courting disaster.
But now—with this flower—he could safely restart his experiments.
The corner of his lips curled upward in a sly, dangerous smile.
If he couldn't obtain the Renegade Immortals' legacy to save the Xianzhou…
Then once he cured Feixiao's Moon Rage, he'd become a full-time toxicologist.
If he couldn't heal the world—he'd make the world sick enough to beg for healing.
Jiaoqiu chuckled softly. For the first time, his heart felt strangely clear—liberated, in a twisted way.
Sylvester, rubbing his chin, frowned deeply.
That expression on Jiaoqiu's face… it didn't look like "enlightenment." It looked like… corruption.
He was already the type to hide thorns beneath a smile—if he truly embraced the darkness, who knew what kind of poisons he might craft one day?
Sylvester glanced again at the flower glowing softly in Jiaoqiu's hands and sighed.
Oh, people of Abundance… you'd best start praying he finds that memory bubble soon.
Because as terrifying as that might be—there were worse fates than a man with too much hope.
A fox with too much despair could turn the cosmos into a graveyard.
Jiaoqiu stored away the flower and moved on to the next can.
By all logic, after two violet Curios, he'd already exhausted his luck. A third would be almost impossible.
But if fate truly meant to give the Xianzhou a chance to rise—a chance to evolve beyond its current limits—then what were two violet Curios but stepping stones toward destiny?
He placed his hand on the lid, breathing deeply. His fingers clenched and loosened again and again.
Finally—he pulled.
Another surge of violet light.
"YES!" Jiaoqiu's shout burst from his throat, fists trembling in triumph.
He knew every item this shop had ever produced. And no one—no one—had ever drawn three high-grade Curios in a row!
Could it be… Heaven truly favored him today?!
The hope that had been smoldering in his heart finally erupted into full flame.
When his vision cleared again, he looked down—
—and saw it resting in his palms.
A small, palm-sized sphere—gleaming faintly, pulsing with memory.
Jiaoqiu's hands shook violently. His mind went utterly blank, deafened by the roar of joy inside him.
It was real.
It was truly, undeniably—
A Memory Bubble.