The stench hit like a wall.
Piles of waste littered the cave entrance, reeking with a putrid odor that clung to the air. Strangely, this filth had become the foundation of an ant colony's nest.
Now that they had dragged back something too large to carry inside, they simply tossed it onto the dung heap.
Splurt.
A face, once flawless and handsome, landed squarely in the excrement.
Song Wanníng almost burst into laughter. So this was part of Bai Yang's so-called "fortuitous encounter"? How delightful.
Pinching her nose in disgust, she thought, "If Bai Yang hadn't cultivated, wouldn't he be the first person in history to drown in dung?"
Her gaze drifted past the heap toward the dark mouth of the cave behind it. There was clearly a cavern within, yet the ants had built their nest outside, in the filth, rather than deeper inside where it would be safer. Why?
It was unnatural. Irrational.
Song Wanníng's eyes narrowed slightly. Suspicion stirred.
"Could it be… something inside forced them to build their nest here? To cover up what lies within?"
Then, a thought struck her.
"Is the divine beast in that cave?"
Her heart skipped. Without hesitation, she concealed her presence and slipped inside. The moment she vanished into the shadows, the ant swarm grew restless.
They abandoned their current task and began surging toward the cave entrance in a frenzied wave. Yet just as they reached the threshold, they froze. None dared step beyond the entrance. They swarmed in circles instead, agitated, frantic.
Thousands of ants churned and twisted in tight formations. Anyone with a fear of clusters would've collapsed on the spot.
Song Wanníng barely spared them a glance. The deeper she went, the more certain she became—something was hidden here.
The cave was damp. Moss and weeds grew unchecked, tangled and wild. But strangely, unlike outside, there was no trace of dung here. No foul stench. Nothing had seeped in. Rounding a stone pillar, she saw a narrow passage ahead and began moving through it.
Roughly half a cup of tea's time passed before she stopped.
A symbol carved into the stone caught her attention—familiar, ancient.
"This… this is a restriction mark from the Celestial Tomb…"
In her previous life, she had run into Ye Chuxue and her companions far too often. Secret realms, inheritance sites, newly unearthed treasures—no matter the location, they always managed to arrive before her. Or worse, with her.
Back then, the male and female leads had long surpassed her. In just thirty short years, they had achieved cultivation levels she hadn't reached even after a hundred years of grueling effort.
She had become a walking punchline, endlessly chasing treasure only for it to end up in someone else's hands.
At the time, Song Wanníng hadn't understood why.
Only after death did she realize the truth: she had been nothing more than Ye Chuxue's foil.
No matter how hard she worked, her sole purpose was to make Ye Chuxue shine.
And the Celestial Tomb… it was one of those mysterious inheritance grounds born in the aftermath of an ancient age. A burial site for the gods of the primordial era. Records spoke of a great demon who once sought to destroy the world.
The gods had rallied together to stop it, fighting through three hundred brutal battles. In the end, one by one, the gods fell. Their remains were buried in the Celestial Tomb.
In her past life, Ye Chuxue had gained the recognition of one such god inside that tomb and inherited a divine legacy.
This symbol on the wall—it was identical to one she had seen there.
Song Wanníng's expression darkened.
"Could this place be connected to the Celestial Tomb?"
Quietly, she drew her longsword. Her steps became lighter, more careful. But just as she prepared to investigate further, a rustle came from the nearby underbrush.
Instantly alert, she swept her spiritual sense over the area—and found an egg nestled in the grass.
Ordinary in appearance. Round, unassuming. Nothing special.
Under normal circumstances, she would've taken one look and dismissed it.
But here, right now, in this place?
Highly suspicious.
Even though the egg gave off the faint aura of a regular beast, her instincts screamed otherwise. She reached out with a flick of her fingers, summoning it into her hand.
The egg was about the size of her fist. Whatever lay inside was still alive—she could hear the soft rhythm of a heartbeat within.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to probe the shell with her spiritual sense.
Blocked.
A thin barrier surrounded it, resisting her investigation completely.
"How interesting." Song Wanníng lifted the egg and studied it more closely.
"Big Sister, some divine beast eggs disguise themselves as ordinary ones while they're young. It's how they survive, so they don't get targeted before they hatch!"
The golden flying sword fluttered around her in excitement.
This had to be the divine beast they were looking for.
"Suspicious is an understatement," Song Wanníng murmured, brows raised.
The dung at the entrance, the foul smell, the deliberately unremarkable location of this cave—it all made sense now. No regular beast or cultivator would ever give this place a second glance.
And if she hadn't followed Bai Yang, she never would have discovered this hidden spot either.
Let alone this seemingly unremarkable egg.
It was no accident. This egg had been hidden here on purpose.
And so, driven by the belief that it was better to be too cautious than too careless, she decided to investigate it thoroughly.
First, she returned to the cave entrance. There, she sealed off Bai Yang's five senses to prevent him from causing trouble. Then, she placed down a formation disk to shield the cave entirely. If anything moved outside, she'd know instantly. With precautions in place, she sat down inside the cave.
The matter of the divine beast had to be resolved within the next two days. The Song clan was still waiting for her…
She placed the egg on the ground in front of her.
Her expression turned serious. Hope was low.
Would a divine beast truly accept her as its master?
The answer was no.
She already knew that. But even so… she had to try.
Closing her eyes, she took a steady breath.
When she opened them again, her gaze was resolute.
She drew a deep breath and forced out a drop of heart's blood.
Her face paled instantly.
Heart's blood was a cultivator's essence—far more precious than ordinary blood. Even a single drop took time to recover.
Carefully, she guided it toward the egg.
One breath. Two. Three…
The blood trickled down the shell… but refused to be absorbed.
Her brows furrowed.
She was now ninety percent sure.
She began channeling spiritual energy, trying to force the blood into the egg.
No matter what she tried, it remained on the surface.
"If the blood can't be absorbed… then the contract can't form."
Song Wanníng's expression darkened. Still, she kept trying, changing methods, persisting even as her face turned ashen.
The egg remained completely unresponsive.
She had expected this outcome.
But that didn't make it any less frustrating.
Her eyes fixed on the egg, cold and unwavering.
"Accept me as your master." She knew divine beasts often awakened their intelligence early. For the egg to resist so fiercely—it had to be sentient already.
"Hmph. You?"
A childlike voice echoed through the cave, dripping with disdain.
"You think someone like you is worthy of contracting me? I could swallow you whole in one bite!"
"What lowborn garbage dares covet me? Courting death!"
"I am a divine beast, you understand? A divine beast! You country bumpkin!"