Chapter 17: The True Form Of The Spirit Of Abundance

You’ll never know—maybe that quiet lurker in the group chat who calls herself a chubby otaku is actually an adorable girl in real life.

“You’re really Xiao Mi La?”

The members of Monsoon stood silently—it was even creepier than those dolls.

“Genuine and guaranteed.”

Unbelievable.

“So that means, in the group chat all this time, we were…”

“Don’t worry,” Wu Xiaomi winked, “I’ve already forgotten everything.”

Liar! Just now you were effortlessly bringing up all our embarrassing chat history!

“Alright, now’s not the time for catching up,” the village chief, Muxi, cut in. 

“Thanks for your help, everyone. With disaster looming, let’s focus on the danger at hand.”

Everyone had already seen just how tough and troublesome those dolls were.

If they couldn’t find an effective way to drive them off, more people were going to get hurt.

Wait—didn’t the chief and Nanalia catch one earlier?

She even had a face-to-face encounter with one inside that coffin…

“The Sealing Dance works decently against the dolls, but the ribbon is too hard to land. If it’s a surprise attack, fine but once they’re on guard, it’s nearly impossible to catch them.” Nanalia clutched the ribbon in frustration, “I need help. Xiaomi, come back to the shrine with me.”

Ugh… another new technique to learn?

Can’t there be something more badass? 

Like sword energy flying everywhere, or summoning a moon to crash down?

Why are all the shamanic moves just ceremonial dances? 

At this rate, how’s she supposed to regain her glory in front of Bai Xiaozhi?

“Monsoon Adventurer Group, right?” Muxi looked toward Alei and the others, “If you want to help, join me in patrolling the village and protecting the townsfolk.”

“Understood!” The Monsoon members responded like they’d been pardoned.

Though, they were a bit reluctant to part ways.

Soon, the group split into two.

Nanalia took Wu Xiaomi back to the shrine. The chief led the Monsoon members to patrol the village.

“Normally, when newcomers learn ritual dances, they have to start with tough fundamentals—train the body until it’s flexible enough before moving on.”

Wu Xiaomi had seen girls training in dance studios. 

The basic training looked absolutely brutal.

Devilishly graceful, sure—but it came with devil-level torture.

“But you, you were born with a musical ear and a naturally flexible body, capable of bending into all sorts of shapes. So you skipped all the tedious training.”

…?

Is that supposed to be a compliment?

“Before, we learned the fan dance—that’s the most common form of shamanic ritual. It lets you command the natural elements.

This time, try the sealing ribbon.”

Nanalia handed over a jet-black ribbon.

“Just wave it around however you like. I want to see your natural talent,” she said, stepping back expectantly.

Hah, talent?

She was the genius who awakened directly at Sequence 79 on her first try!

Wu Xiaomi raised her hand confidently.

Three minutes later.

“Ugh! Help! H-help!”

Now rolled up on the ground like a cocoon, the girl struggled helplessly, writhing around.

She truly had a unique gift—when it came to tying herself up.

Nanalia had never seen such an impressive failure. The ribbon twisted and knotted chaotically around Wu Xiaomi, tightening the more she struggled.

In her hands, the sealing ribbon seemed almost alive—wrapping, tangling, until it successfully sealed… Wu Xiaomi herself.

“In a certain sense, you really are quite something.”

Nanalia stared hopelessly at the mess of knots. Even with her shaman’s tranquil mindset, this disaster of tangled ribbon was enough to stir a storm of anxiety.

Dozens of dead knots… How did she even manage this?!

It took Nanalia half an hour to free Wu Xiaomi from the “cocoon.”

And with that, she completely gave up on teaching her the sealing ribbon technique.

“Everyone has different talents. Gaining some means losing others—don’t be discouraged.”

The two of them sat facing each other, legs crossed. 

Nanalia patted her shoulder with the wisdom of an old soul.

“Your strength lies in your bond with the Spirit of Abundance. There’s something special between you two, that’s what lets you awaken straight at Sequence 79, and even use crystals to release Sequence 78.”

As she fanned herself with a small fan, Nanalia explained seriously: “I don’t know what connection you have with the Spirit of Abundance, but it’s something truly unusual.

Maybe you’re capable of things… I can’t even do it.”

Suddenly, Nanalia jumped up and dragged Wu Xiaomi toward the statue.

“If we don’t know how to deal with the dolls, then let’s just go ask the Spirit of Abundance face to face!”

“Face to face? How—”

“Put your hand on the statue and follow me in reciting this,” Nanalia closed her eyes.

Oh.

She did as told.

“Golden soul of the fields of harvest, sapphire crystal of the river of life.”

“Gol…” Wu Xiaomi repeated softly and nervously.

“May the stars guide your lost descendant, across the chasm of matter and spirit.”

“Please…”

“Eden, Eden.”

“Eden! Eden!”

Boom—

The moment the word “Eden” left her lips, a magnificent golden bolt of lightning crashed down from the sky, exploding through the shrine roof with a deafening roar.

The lightning carried no heat—only an overwhelming sense of paralysis.

Wu Xiaomi was struck dead-on.

Just like during a pre-quest teleportation, her consciousness rapidly detached from reality, hurtling toward some unknown place.

“Is this… a dream? Or did I just die?”

All she could see was an endless field of golden wheat, and in the middle of it, a small house.

She stood on tiptoe, tilting her head around to look.

“Is… anyone here?”

Seemed like no one.

Wading through the sea of wheat, she made her way to the little wooden cabin.

She pushed the door open.

Inside, the bedding was perfectly arranged, spotless. Someone definitely lived here.

But where were they?

“Heh… got you.”

A teasing voice whispered in her ear.

?!

A sudden tug at her lower back.

Her body lifted off the ground, snatched up by the waist.

“A bold little devil, daring to walk right into my domain… just throwing yourself into the net…”

Plop.

Thick, heavy drops of saliva dripped from above, splattering right in front of Wu Xiaomi.

The voice was steeped in hunger—a deep, ravenous greed.

“It’s been so long since I last tasted a devil…”