The Weasel

"Finally got kicked out!" Xie Yuling said it like it was bad news, but she didn’t seem all that upset.

Lin Mo patted the girl’s head.

"I told you, you were never really cut out for math Olympiads. It’s all about speed, after all."

On the way back, it was just Xie Yuling and Lin Mo.

So Xie Yuling’s usual liveliness dialed up a notch.

"But I actually like math Olympiad. My grades improved after studying it."

"If you want to learn, I can teach you."

Lin Mo walked ahead.

He was relieved that Xie Yuling wasn’t disheartened by being kicked out.

After all, she had stubbornly refused to quit before.

Xue Zigui, however, stayed in the Olympiad class.

Next up, the Olympiad training would merge the first and second-year classes.

As they walked, Xie Yuling suddenly stopped.

"Hm?" Lin Mo followed her gaze.

An elderly woman with graying hair was bowing repeatedly as she walked, muttering something under her breath.

"You know her?" Lin Mo asked casually.

"...No."

With that, Xie Yuling kept walking.

It was obvious she did, but Lin Mo didn’t press. Instead, he left a spiritual mark on the old woman before following Xie Yuling.

Back at the apartment, Lin Mo stopped by the roast meat shop to buy some cooked food.

His appetite was sizable, after all.

After dinner, he returned to his rented room.

The weekend had arrived—time to research talisman drawing.

The method for crafting these talismans had been snatched from another system, so it didn’t quite align with typical immortal cultivation practices.

The paper had to be yellow ritual paper, the brush a weasel-hair brush, and real cinnabar was required.

Yellow ritual paper and cinnabar were easy enough to find.

But weasel-hair brushes weren’t so common these days.

Sure, fake cinnabar flooded the market, but with a little supernatural persuasion, Lin Mo could make sure the merchants sold him the real deal.

He’d already acquired the yellow paper and cinnabar a few days prior.

But the weasel-hair brush eluded him. Many shops claimed to sell them, but most were just mixed-hair fakes.

And yet, the talisman required a pure weasel-hair brush.

Despite the name, "weasel-hair" actually came from yellow weasels.

But yellow weasels were now a protected species—where were all these brushes supposed to come from?

Not to mention, yellow weasels weren’t easy to farm.

There was one upside, though: yellow weasels were widespread across the country. If Lin Mo just found a patch of wilderness, caught one, and plucked some tail hairs, he could make his own brush.

With that thought, Nan Kun Mountain came to mind.

The place was sparsely populated but teeming with wildlife.

So he cloaked himself in invisibility and took to the skies.

After reaching the Foundation Establishment stage, flight was now within his grasp.

Among the seventy-two supernatural abilities, riding the wind had always been an option—but back then, his spiritual energy reserves were pitiful. Two hours of charging for five minutes of flight?

At that rate, sprinting with Divine Speed was faster.

But now, things were different.

Post-Foundation Establishment, he could charge for five minutes and fly for two hours.

Soaring ninety thousand miles in a single bound.

Flight was far quicker than Divine Speed.

The only downside was the hefty spiritual energy cost.

Lin Mo descended into the mountain forest, his spiritual sense fully expanded.

As he walked, he scanned the surroundings.

Yellow weasels were protected, but only at the third tier—not exactly rare, just uncommon.

But in these woods, Lin Mo finally spotted one.

He dropped from midair into the dense forest.

In the darkness, ordinary humans would struggle to see, but Lin Mo’s vision was crystal clear.

The yellow weasel didn’t flee at his approach. Instead, it stood on its hind legs, studying him curiously.

Lin Mo stared back at the little creature.

After a long silence, he spoke.

"I thought you’d ask for a blessing."

He smirked. "If you had, I’d have turned you into a big-chested, slim-waisted, long-legged high school girl with twin tails."

"Esteemed Immortal, my apologies. This humble one hasn’t cultivated enough to request a blessing. I’ve disappointed you."

Lin Mo’s eyes widened.

Damn. The Nine Heavens Realm really was a place where all things had spirits—this weasel was legit!

The yellow weasel clasped its paws in a human-like gesture.

"Did the Immortal not already perceive this?"

Earlier, the weasel had felt an invisible gaze sweep over it multiple times before settling.

In all its years of cultivation, it had never encountered a human with such terrifying pressure.

Or was this the kind of "Immortal" its ancestors had spoken of?

So it stayed perfectly still.

Only when Lin Mo landed and spoke did it dare respond.

Lin Mo frowned. He’d have to be even more cautious from now on. If weasel blessings were real, what other folktales might also be true?

Still, he kept his composure. "How long have you been cultivating, little weasel?"

The weasel bowed. "This humble one has cultivated for over three hundred years. Alas, the modern world is ill-suited for cultivation. Merely surviving is a gift from the heavens."

Lin Mo took a deep breath and studied the creature again.

Soul Gaze!

His eyes glowed violet, and the weasel’s mirrored the hue.

It worked.

Lin Mo pressed, "Have you ever harmed a human?"

The weasel shrank back fearfully.

"This humble one wouldn’t dare! Humans are the pinnacle of creation, inherently blessed by heaven and earth. Creatures like us not only avoid harming them—we hide from them!

Even ordinary blades would be our undoing."

Lin Mo was stunned. These spirits were weak—couldn’t even handle regular humans?

"Then what have you been cultivating for three hundred years?"

"This humble one only wishes to become human. If granted a blessing, I could take human form. Though my lifespan would be mere decades, my next reincarnation would be as a human."

Lin Mo recalled the old tales.

"And if you were blessed as an immortal?"

"That ‘immortality’ isn’t true transcendence. It merely allows transformation into human form, guarding a territory and ensuring good harvests. Once merits are fulfilled, reincarnation would lead to a fortunate human life."

Ah. So whether blessed as human or immortal, the end goal was the same—becoming human.

These so-called spirits were practically useless. Even a strong human could slay them. Truly, the terror of the upright ape.

Still, Lin Mo asked, "Have you ever met anyone... as powerful as me?"

The weasel shook its head with eerie human likeness. "In three hundred years, this humble one has seen many, but none as mighty as the Immortal... Though ninety years ago, there was a formidable Daoist priest. Yet he paled beside even a wisp of the Immortal’s aura."

Under Soul Gaze, lies were impossible.

Lin Mo felt maybe he didn’t need to be quite so paranoid.

Judging by the weasel’s words, this world had its oddities, but they weren’t as formidable as he’d feared.

Or maybe this little weasel just hadn’t encountered the truly powerful.

Hm. Better stay cautious anyway.