Su Yue indignantly raised her tiny fist.
To escape being enslaved by Chen Yan, she needed strength—and to gain strength, she needed money. Her current body couldn’t absorb spiritual energy directly from heaven and earth; blood was the only source. Strength, too, would come only through blood.
This conclusion blended what she’d heard from Lucifer, the black-haired Bloodkin girl living nearby, and the surging spiritual energy she’d felt after Chen Yan fed her blood last time. Here, people called it “magic,” but it was the same essence. Her talismans still worked—so arrays should function too. With enough materials, she was certain she could break the contract… or even set an array to possess another body. Once she had a cultivable vessel, she’d reclaim her throne and continue the *Immortal Sovereign’s Return* storyline. Sure, she’d slipped into the wrong plane by accident—but honestly? This world felt close enough.
“Mwahaha! Insects of the lower plane, prepare for my dimensional downgrade attack!” Inspired by her own fantasy, Su Yue plopped down energetically at the small desk, ready to craft talismans.
Her plan: first, modify low-power talismans to sell to ordinary folks—build capital and reputation. Later, quietly offer stronger ones. From movie memories of her previous life, this city *had* to have a black market where forbidden goods changed hands. And she was right. In this world of magic and supernatural powers, an underground black market truly existed—unlike her old city, where such things lived only in films and games.
After a moment’s thought, she painted a water talisman with her brush. Local talisman makers had to infuse drawn patterns with magic to activate them (or let users do it, lowering the price). But Su Yue’s low-grade talismans needed no infusion—thanks to the Immortal Realm’s perfected theories, refined over hundreds of thousands of years. Take the water talisman: hers had three extra strokes versus the local standard. Just three strokes. Worlds apart.
Higher-grade talismans still required spiritual energy—but that wasn’t her worry now.
“Hmm… connect this stroke here… add a bit more… flip this hook downward.” Comparing her completed water talisman, she refined the design on fresh paper.
“There!” She softened the power. The original screamed: *“Blast him hard forward!”* Now it whispered: *“Spray water. Just a little.”* She added a water-limit function (thirty uses) and changed activation from pinching + shouting “Water!” to the incantation: *“Clear spring, flow!”*
Pinching the talisman, she pointed ahead: *“Clear spring, flow!”*
*Pew~* A thin jet shot from her fingertips, arcing four or five meters before sprinkling the floor.
“Hmm, not bad.” She nodded, satisfied. These toy-like talismans were perfect for kids.
Setting it aside, she modified others.
Fire? Too risky. Toned down to a faint, long-lasting glow—incantation: *“Lumos.”*
Lightning? Adjusted to a static zap numbing fingers just enough to drop a talisman—*“Expelliarmus.”*
Wind? Two paths: levitate objects 10cm (*“Wingardium Leviosa”*) or summon a wind barrier (*“Face the wind!”*).
…
After refining several types, Su Yue nodded happily. She remembered childhood: waving a stick as a wand, dueling imaginary beams with friends, “effects” powered purely by imagination. Now kids could live the wizard dream with her talismans. *Wouldn’t these fly off the shelves?*
“Scallion pancake’s six yuan… selling a talisman for three isn’t unreasonable, right?” She recalled the packaging: ~100 sheets for 50 yuan (½ yuan each). Ink cost barely pushed it past one yuan. Profit? Over two yuan per sale!
Cha-ching—money was already waving at her!
(If any local talisman maker heard this pricing, they’d spit blood. Paper was cheap, but success rates were abysmal—one usable talisman per hundred sheets for beginners. Infusing magic demanded razor-sharp soul control. That’s why makers were rare. Even the weakest talisman cost 1,000 yuan.)
Unaware, Su Yue kicked off her shoes, sat duck-style on the sleeping bag, and scribbled furiously. *Use all 500–600 sheets Chen Yan bought today—nearly 2,000 yuan worth!* She saved a few sheets for standard talismans, just in case a connoisseur appeared… maybe a black market connection would bloom.
Humming cheerfully, her little head swaying to the tune, her silver hair swayed slightly too—as joyful as its owner.
Sunset painted the sky. Finished, Su Yue stretched luxuriously, her slender body curving into a wide C-shape, chest tracing an alluring line left beautifully to the imagination.
“Hungry…” She patted her stomach—the *human* one. Since last feeding, the dark crimson orb in her dantian had grown slightly larger and spun steadily again. *Must be the Bloodkin’s magic core,* she mused. *No blood? It warns you. Hence… hunger.*
She stood, brushed off imaginary dust, slipped her feet into the neatly placed blue-and-white sneakers. A slight knee bend, a finger hooked the heel—*pull*—shoes on.
“Time to find food. Wonder if the scallion pancake stall takes talismans?” she murmured. “If not… I’ll just play pitiful again. Boys like that? *So* easy to handle~"
