Lauren suddenly felt a wave of unease. Ten thousand satellites couldn’t pull that off. Even satellites can’t track the flap of a cicada’s wings—or see what someone’s doing inside their room.

  Her voice came out weak, almost trembling. “So… if I go to the bathroom… can Master see me?”

  Inside Starfell Hall, Drake paused. “...” Then, without another word, he immediately pulled back his spiritual sense.

  “Shhh.” Tarot quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “You’ve got guts asking that. Master isn’t that bored. I only meant that, if he wanted to, he could see everything. You think he just spends his time spying on people like some creep?”

  Lauren let out the breath she’d been holding. That was more like it.

  Still, the idea alone was terrifying. Who knew when he might be watching?

  “Hey! Master’s treasure—tossed it into the pool!”

  The silken garment had melted into the hot spring, completely invisible to her naked eyes.

  She reached out to grope for it, but came up empty.

  Tarot flicked his wrist and murmured an incantation. The pool instantly darkened, a thick black aura cloaking the water. A faint light flickered within, and there it was—her Spirit-Repelling Silkworm Garment, glowing weakly.

  “There—grab it.”

  Lauren darted forward and scooped it up. “Thank you, Senior Brother.”

  “Take it back and refine it,” Tarot said with a faint smile. “Once you establish a bond, it won’t slip away from you like that again.”

  “Okay. Thank you for the advice, Senior Brother.”

  But a thought struck her mid-step. She froze, turned back, and asked, “Wait. Senior Brother… I haven’t learned how to refine yet.”

  Tarot: “...”

  “Go to the library. Look for a book on refinement. Refining magical and spiritual tools is the most basic skill. Everyone is expected to learn it.”

  “Yes.”

  Lauren decided not to leave Starfell Summit for now. In a few days, the Mission Hall would summon her for herb collection, and then she could combine that errand with the library quest.

  For now, she sat down to cultivate the heavenly-grade technique: the Mysterious Ice Technique.

  It wasn’t just a cultivation method. It included a complete system of ice arts—defense, offense, sealing—the works.

  The final stage shocked her. The complete Mysterious Ice Technique culminated in cultivating an Ice Domain.

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  After reaching the Nascent Soul stage, one could attempt to create a personal domain, though the starting point was shaky. The truth was, no known cultivator had successfully done it at the Nascent Soul stage. Only Spirit Severing cultivators could barely grasp fragments of a domain’s principles, and only Spirit Transformation experts could wield one properly.

  Lauren’s feelings were hard to put into words.

  In some webnovels she’d read in her old life, the protagonists started from nothing—poor, rootless—and somehow still had every sect under heaven calling them Daddy.

  It had always felt ridiculous.

  The truth was obvious: if you weren’t born into power, you wouldn’t even get a glimpse of heavenly-grade manuals or immortal artifacts.

  And even if you stumbled across them—without the strength to protect them? Forget it. You’d be dead before you managed to turn the first page.

  Lauren cultivated through the night. At dawn, she looked inward and noticed Four Legs seemed a little better—no longer curled up like before. He was still clinging tightly to her Immortal Roots, but at least he didn’t look half-dead.

  What the hell’s wrong with him?

  She tried to reach out.

  “Hey.”

  “You’re living in my body rent-free. The least you could do is respond.”

  Four Legs cracked his tired eyes open, gave her the briefest glance, then shut them again like she wasn’t worth the effort.

  Her inner sight was much clearer than it had been back in Qi Training. Before, he was just a blurry little blob—short, fat, vaguely gecko-shaped.

  Now, the round belly was gone. His body was longer, leaner—closer to a cave salamander than a gecko.

  Unhappy with his lack of reaction, Lauren deliberately nudged him with a surge of her spiritual energy.

  The first time she’d touched him like this, he’d flinched.

  But this time? Nothing. He let her poke and prod, scratch and jab, like a lump of dead meat.

  “Little Four Legs, if you need something, just say it. If I can help you, I will. You’ve helped me before.”

  Still nothing.

  Lauren sighed. Maybe it was better to stop tormenting him and let him rest.

  But then—

  “Who are you?”

  Lauren froze.

  The voice was male. Deep. Adult. And without a doubt, it came from Four Legs.

  Her composure shattered. She had always thought of him as some kind of weird little pet, but this wasn’t a gecko. This was a man.

  A man who had been living in her body.

  “...Are you talking to me?”

  Silence.

  “Hey. You’ve been squatting in me for ages and you don’t even know who I am?”

  Silence again.

  “You don’t know who I am, so why bother helping me?”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Who are you?”

  She kept firing questions back at him, and she matched him one for one until finally—

  “I don’t know.”

  Lauren: “...” After all that, I get one useless ‘I don’t know’?

  “Little Four Legs, you mean to tell me you don’t even know how you ended up inside me?”

  This time, his answer had more weight.

  “My soul was severely wounded. I’ve been dormant for a long time. My memory is… incomplete.”

  “Then why me? Why not someone else’s body?”

  “You have the immortal energy I need.”

  Immortal energy?

  Was he talking about her Immortal Roots?

  She didn’t know much about them—only that they were precious and made cultivation ridiculously fast. If someone dug them out of her, they’d forge an Immortal Artifact out of the damn things. Which meant she was basically walking around with a giant “rob me” sign on her back. At her current level, that was suicide.

  As for other uses… she had no clue. I’ll ask Drake tomorrow.

  “Where are you from, then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Right. Still half-asleep.

  “Fine. Then what are you, at least? You know that much, right?”

  Silence stretched on for so long she thought he’d shut down again. But then—

  “Dragon.”

  Lauren nearly jumped out of her skin. She sharpened her spiritual sense, staring hard at his form.

  Different from before, yes. Slimmer. More refined. But still—

  “No horns. No scales. Not even a damn beard. How is that supposed to be a dragon?”

  “Then what do you think a dragon looks like?”

  “Horns like a deer, a horse’s face, a fish’s whiskers, an ox’s nose, a snake’s body, eagle’s claws. Something like that.”

  Silence again. For a moment, she thought she’d pissed him off. But then his voice came, calm, almost distant.

  “That was my true form. At my peak.”

  Her pulse skipped.

  “True form? Then what about now?”

  “No body. My flesh is sealed away. What you see in you now… is just a wisp of my spirit.”