Chapter 12: The Void

In the blink of an eye, the jade bracelet was flooded with a deep crimson, growing hot to the touch at a rate Gu Zhuo could distinctly feel. Her expression darkened in an instant. This jade bracelet, with its own planting space, was of utmost importance to her—it was the key to saving Medicine Aunt and Xie Lin.

She was confident in her medical skills, but a vegetative state was a peculiar condition; skill alone would not suffice. She had no choice but to pin her hopes on mystical means.

Could it be that, with a different soul, the jade bracelet no longer recognized its master? Was it truly, as Gu Min had surmised, a special gift for those who had crossed over from another world?

Even one as calm as Gu Zhuo now felt a surge of indignation, so much so that she overlooked the searing pain gnawing at her wrist.

She stared fixedly at the blood-red jade bracelet, her steps coming to a halt.

"Mother?" Yinyin, hearing no footsteps behind her, turned back in concern.

Just as Gu Zhuo was about to respond, the bracelet on her wrist underwent a transformation. Before her eyes, the blood-red bangle softened, taking on a mercurial sheen, and—slipped straight into her wrist!

Startled beyond words, she instinctively drove a silver needle into her own wrist without hesitation.

She sealed her own meridian, hoping perhaps she could intercept that strange jade bracelet.

At this moment, her only thought was that the bracelet chose its master by soul, not by body, and that now, burrowing into her flesh, it could bring nothing but harm.

Yet—

Gu Zhuo pressed her fingers to her pulse, frowning.

There was nothing amiss.

Moments passed. Her wrist began to stiffen from the sealed meridian, and Gu Zhuo hesitantly withdrew the needle. Still—nothing happened.

"Mother?" Unable to hold back, Yinyin tugged at her mother's sleeve. "Mother, why aren't we going?"

Gu Zhuo snapped back to herself, took Yinyin's hand, and said, "It's nothing. Let's head home." Anxiety gnawed at her, but she was determined not to let it show and worry her daughter.

Her unease did not abate even after returning home. Xie Ning was already back, busy preparing dinner, while Chen Xinwan was as absent as she had been at noon.

"Sister-in-law, go get some rest in your room," Xie Ning said at once, seeing the sweat beading on her brow.

Gu Zhuo nodded, accepting the suggestion without protest, took the small box from her basket, and went to her room.

When Yinyin tried to follow, Xie Ning quickly interjected, "Yinyin, don't go in."

She was afraid Yinyin would disturb her sister-in-law, so she bent down and coaxed, "Auntie made a sandbag for you. Go play with it outside for a bit, all right?"

Though Gu Zhuo was still unsettled, she glanced over at the mention of her daughter.

Xie Ning hurried to reassure her, "Don't worry, sister-in-law. Dinner is almost ready, the dishes are cooked, only the pickled vegetable soup is left—and that's easy, just needs a bit of firewood. It won't keep me from watching Yinyin."

Gu Zhuo hesitated but did not object. No matter how anxious she was for Yinyin's safety, she couldn't watch her every moment, especially since Xie Ning was far more reliable than Chen Xinwan and Xie Chong.

After closing the door, Gu Zhuo leaned against it and exhaled a long, weary breath.

Ever since her rebirth, she had remained calm and composed, but now tears threatened to well up. The loss of the planting space was a heavy blow.

Without the space, there was no way to save Medicine Aunt. And then there was the small box—back then, she had hidden it in the mountains, and it was only by chance that Gu Min had found it, which she had always chalked up to good fortune after crossing over.

The box was made of an unusual material and had a sliding lid, not a hinged one. It could not be forced open; only a key would unlock it. Gu Min had found it in the wild, so it made sense she thought it ownerless—but how had she not wondered why the key around her own neck fit it so perfectly?

Now, the pressing question was: where to hide the box? Keeping it at home was out of the question, given the current circumstances.

As Gu Zhuo frowned in thought, she was startled by what happened next.

The small box vanished before her eyes.

It was gone!

Wait!

Her heart pounded wildly. She swallowed and silently commanded—"Enter!"

At once, the world spun. The scene before her eyes changed.

Just as the book had described, a stretch of black earth about three acres wide, a bubbling spring, and—a thatched cottage?

Gu Zhuo frowned. She was certain the space Gu Min had obtained in the book had never included a cottage. Her gaze fell on the spring. The book had only briefly mentioned it, but in reality, it was something worthy of much greater attention.

The spring was set among craggy rocks, as grand as decorative mountains in a villa garden. Water cascaded from the heights like a waterfall, forming a sizable lake below.

She couldn't say exactly how large the lake was, but it certainly surpassed the surrounding land.

She circled the shore, astonished to find that the spiritual spring mountain actually floated above the lake. Moreover—

Standing atop the mountain, Gu Zhuo blinked. Was Gu Min able to teleport in the space in the book?

She was sure there had been no such description.

And what of the thatched cottage?

With a thought, Gu Zhuo stood before it.

Though it looked like a humble thatched hut, up close, it was surprisingly large and seemed sturdily built—more the sort of "thatched cottage" a wealthy person might construct: rustic in appearance only, but solid at its core.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, only to retreat after a moment.

Backing up some distance, she scrutinized the cottage. Was it an illusion, or was the interior larger than the exterior suggested?

No, it was no illusion.

She entered again and surveyed the interior at a glance. The layout was square and orderly. Facing the door, an entire wall was taken up by a traditional apothecary cabinet—hundreds of small drawers, each engraved with the name of an herb in black script.

A rough count suggested at least a hundred or two drawers.

In front of the cabinet stood a large rosewood table, spacious enough for seven or eight people to sit comfortably. On it was a balance scale and various tools for preparing medicinal herbs. On the floor nearby were seven or eight pots for roasting and decocting medicines; on the other side stood baskets, though all were empty, with no finished medicine in sight.

Along both side walls were shelves reaching up to the ceiling, crammed with bottles and jars of every shape and size.

Gu Zhuo had thought these contained finished medicines, but upon closer inspection, she realized that one shelf held various seeds for medicinal herbs, while the opposite shelf contained medicine bottles.

She tried opening several bottles, only to find them all empty.