Cultivation Tools Related to Bai Qianshuang

After explaining the misunderstanding about his grandfather's death and seeing Bai Qianshuang's blank nod, Ye Chuan realized he might need to teach her the basics of living in this society. However, he found himself at a loss about where to even begin.

Maybe he should start with the 5,000-year history of Huaxia?

No, perhaps he should go all the way back to Pangu separating heaven and earth.

Or Nezha stirring up the sea?

The Monkey King wreaking havoc in heaven?

But before he could even finish explaining how Nüwa created humans, Bai Qianshuang was already nodding off. Her head dipped like a fishing rod, her long lashes fluttering as her eyes struggled to stay open. Finally, unable to resist any longer, her head tilted and came to rest on Ye Chuan's shoulder.

Feeling the weight on his shoulder, Ye Chuan stayed silent for a few seconds, listening to her steady breathing.

It wasn’t hard to see the exhaustion on Bai Qianshuang. Ye Chuan guessed she might have been on the run, possibly even gone without proper rest for a long time.

He glanced sideways at her—her hair carried a faint, indescribable fragrance, and from his angle, he could also catch a glimpse of the snowy expanse at the collar of her robe.

Hmm. His nose felt warm. A little tingly.

It was coming.

"Looks like even cultivators doze off in class. Guess we’re not so different after all," Ye Chuan muttered. Carefully supporting Bai Qianshuang, he laid her down on the bed and tucked her in. Her hair was so long he worried it might get caught, so he adjusted it gently.

Hah, can’t let my precious money tree catch a cold.

After making sure the blankets were snug, he picked up the white robe and left the room.

Not long after Ye Chuan left, Bai Qianshuang opened her eyes. She stared in the direction he had gone, then glanced down at the warm blanket covering her. After a moment of contemplation, she slowly closed her eyes again.

...

Meanwhile, Ye Chuan walked into the living room. The space was sparsely furnished—a few redwood cabinets, an old bulky TV, and some faded red plastic stools bearing the marks of time. A painting of a chubby baby in a bellyband hung on the wall.

Ye Chuan didn’t have the money to renovate. These were all hand-me-downs from his grandfather’s generation, but as long as they worked, he wasn’t picky.

Pulling out a sewing kit from one of the cabinets, he sat on a plastic stool and started mending the tattered white robe.

"Huh? What kind of fabric is this?" Ye Chuan frowned as his needle refused to pierce the material.

Despite feeling soft to the touch, the robe had an inexplicable toughness—like an indestructible plastic bag that wouldn’t tear no matter how hard he poked at it.

After several failed attempts, his fingers ached, and he gave up.

No strength, huh? Figures—it’s a cultivator’s item. Even a simple robe is different.

Would it make an unbreakable bath scrub?

If Bai Qianshuang knew what he was thinking, she’d probably faint from rage.

But according to the system, there was a chance he could obtain items related to Bai Qianshuang. Since she was a cultivator, maybe he could get his hands on some immortal tools or techniques?

If that were the case, his minor health issues would be nothing.

Soaring through the skies, commanding a thousand swords—

"I don’t eat beef."

Just as Ye Chuan was lost in his fantasies, his phone buzzed. He picked it up and saw a notification:

[Obtained an item related to Bai Qianshuang. Retrieve now?]

"Ha! Speak of the devil. Bring it on!"

Pressing the retrieval button, he felt something soft materialize in his palm—a loop of fabric embroidered with gold trim, similar in color to the robe and still warm.

"Wait, not a pill or some cultivation manual?" Ye Chuan examined the cloth, puzzled. "An accessory?"

A belt, maybe?

He tugged at it, then sniffed. The scent was familiar—like Bai Qianshuang’s, carrying a faint, pleasant fragrance.

But what use did he have for a belt? It wasn’t like he could actually use it as a bath scrub. Maybe he should just return it to her.

Tucking the fabric away, he grabbed the robe to wash it.

...

Night. Deep night.

"Cough—cough, cough—" Ye Chuan jolted awake, gasping for air as he sat up, his chest heaving.

He’d lost count of how many times this had happened. Ever since his heart condition was diagnosed, he hadn’t slept a single peaceful night.

Turning on the light, he grabbed a mirror and saw his lips were tinged purple, his complexion ghastly.

Realizing lying flat risked suffocation, he sat upright, waiting for dawn, occasionally closing his eyes.

He was used to it by now.

At the first light of morning, he bought breakfast and returned.

Knocking lightly, he pushed open Bai Qianshuang’s door, only to find her still curled up in deep sleep—her preferred sleeping position. Ye Chuan set the food down and neatly arranged the freshly washed robe and belt on the table.

Once done, he checked his phone.

[(Huaxia Agricultural Bank) Your account ending in 4399 received a transfer of 2000.00 on June 23 at 00:00. Balance: 4003.10.]

Today’s payment had come through. But he hadn’t received any Bai Qianshuang-related items this time. He could only hope the next one wouldn’t be more clothing—something like an immortal pill or technique would be far more practical.

His gaze lingered on Bai Qianshuang with renewed eagerness before he carefully pulled the blanket over her.

Perhaps sensing someone in the room, Bai Qianshuang stirred, her drowsy eyes landing on Ye Chuan. "Mmm?"

"Morning. I got you breakfast—eat if you’re hungry," Ye Chuan said with a smile. "I’ve got school soon."

"School?" Bai Qianshuang sat up, her bangs slightly disheveled, a few strands sticking to her lips. She tilted her chin up, her gaze lazy yet alluring—a mix of innocence and seduction.

"Yeah. Tomorrow’s the weekend, so I’ll teach you a lot then." If Bai Qianshuang was going to live in this society, she had plenty to learn. After some thought last night, he decided against starting with history—things like using a phone or washing machine were more urgent.

After a quick reminder, Ye Chuan left the room, leaving Bai Qianshuang still half-asleep.

She sat in bed for a long while, her eyes drifting from the breakfast to the neatly folded clothes. Unaccustomed to the lace-trimmed camisole she wore, she reached out to change back into her robe—

But her hand froze mid-air.

Because there, atop her robe, was that white piece of fabric.

Her other hand instinctively flew to her chest.

"…?!"

"Y-You… you scoundrel!"