Chapter 29: Ningyue’s True Body

After watching little Mengyao slip into deep cultivation, Ning Yue—now fully dressed—finally let out a breath of relief.

Clearly, Mengyao had entered a profound meditative state, temporarily unaware of her surroundings.

Normally, such deep cultivation only took place in the safety of one’s own home or within the protection of powerful formations. And typically, it was done alone.

The fact that Mengyao had no hesitation in entering such a vulnerable state in her presence meant one thing—she trusted her. That thought brought a rare warmth to Ning Yue’s heart.

Looks like all the care I’ve shown her wasn’t for nothing.

Now that Mengyao was fully absorbed in her cultivation, and the young master had already left the cave, it was time for Ning Yue to move.

She scanned the cave carefully, studying its layout. After a moment, she spotted a small, well-hidden crevice obscured by rocks and quietly made her way over.

The space was tiny—barely a meter across—but it was more than enough for her.

The entrance was naturally camouflaged by jagged stones, narrow and inconspicuous. From the outside, it was practically invisible, and there was no way to see what lay inside.

Ning Yue cast one last glance at Mengyao, confirming that she remained undisturbed, then slipped into the hidden space.

Cramped as it was, for someone of Ning Yue’s age and build, it still felt spacious.

Without wasting another second, she raised both hands and began forming a series of hand seals.

Waves of spiritual energy rippled from her body, and her figure started to distort, as if reality itself were bending around her.

Her plain, unremarkable features began to melt away, shifting—transforming—until a completely different face emerged.

When the distortion faded, Ning Yue looked nothing like before. Her new face, while still youthful, was strikingly delicate.

There was a faint, alluring charm that clung to her features, a beauty that shimmered beneath her innocent expression. Her long hair had deepened into an inky black, darker than midnight itself.

Though still a young girl, her figure hadn’t diminished in the slightest—smooth, fair, and soft. If she were a few years older, she’d no doubt be a peerless enchantress capable of turning kingdoms upside down.

If Ye Ping’an were here, he would’ve immediately recognized her.

This was the grown-up version of that “extremely dangerous little loli” his father had once shown him in an old portrait—only now, she wasn’t just explosively cute; she radiated an unexpected, seductive grace.

In addition to her transformation, a gleaming golden talisman now hovered in front of her, and a ring had appeared on her finger.

The once ordinary girl was now surrounded by swirling black spiritual energy—her aura unmistakably that of someone at the eleventh level of Qi Refinement.

All these years, that golden talisman had served as a seal, binding her spiritual energy like a heavy cloak. But now, as the seal was lifted, the girl let out a long, relieved moan.

This… this freedom… it feels amazing.

She stretched luxuriously, her expression one of pure satisfaction.

After stowing away the golden talisman, she lowered her gaze to the ring on her finger. With her eyes closed, she focused her consciousness into it—and in an instant, a vast internal space bloomed in her mind’s eye.

Yes, this was a storage ring—and not just any ring. Even across the entire cultivation world, this was a top-tier spatial artifact.

As the name implied, spatial artifacts were tools that could store physical objects within them.

Unlike common magical weapons or spiritual tools, spatial artifacts were exceedingly rare—valuable for two main reasons:

First, their core component—the time-space stone—was incredibly scarce. After years of overmining, it had become nearly extinct.

Compared to even the rarest spirit stones, time-space stones were hundreds of times more precious.

Second, crafting a spatial artifact required someone proficient in the laws of space.

To even touch such laws, one had to be at least in the Nascent Soul realm—and even then, only the most gifted cultivators stood a chance.

To master spatial laws and use them in crafting required someone at the Fusion Realm, fully integrated with the Dao of Space.

In other words, even if you had the materials, unless you had a Fusion Realm expert on hand, you couldn’t forge a storage ring.

And cultivators of that level?

They only existed in top-tier sects. Among lower or mid-tier sects, such mastery was unheard of.

Even in sacred lands, unless you were an elite prodigy, obtaining such a ring came at a staggering cost.

Ye Ping’an had once dreamed of stumbling upon a lost storage ring during his adventures—one that held an old master who’d mentor him and help him soar to greatness.

These days, he’d long given up that fantasy. He didn’t even dare to dream of owning a spatial artifact anymore.

Meanwhile, the girl rifled through the treasure trove within her ring until her eyes lit up—she’d found what she was looking for.

In a flash, two array disks appeared in her hand. After confirming they were a matching pair, she placed one back in the ring and set the other on the rocky floor.

Infusing it with spiritual energy, the disk began to hum with spatial energy and slowly vanished.

In its place, a faint teleportation array formed on the ground—before blending seamlessly into the surroundings.

With the array finally in place, the girl exhaled in relief. She then reattached the golden talisman to her body. As it flashed with light, Ning Yue’s appearance returned to normal.

Wasting no time, she left the hidden chamber before anyone could notice what she’d done.

Once she confirmed that little Mengyao was still deeply focused and the young master hadn’t returned, she settled down not far away and pretended to quietly watch over Mengyao’s cultivation.

The array she’d just set up wasn’t a trap or a weapon—it was a teleportation array.

The two disks worked as a pair. One had just been placed here. Later, she would install the second disk at her home.

Once both were in place, she’d be able to teleport here at will to train.

This hidden chamber was a spiritual goldmine—perfect for breakthrough cultivation. With her current talent, reaching the thirteenth level of Qi Refinement here was more than achievable.

Revenge might still be far off… but she needed this hope.

After all… what if she really did grow strong enough one day?

“Ahhh…” A soft sigh escaped Ning Yue’s lips.

She knew all this went against her parents’ wishes. The storage ring they’d left her held all sorts of treasures, but not a single spirit stone or cultivation material.

Not even one.

It was clear—they never wanted her to walk this path.