It was an ordinary-looking ring—silver-gray in color, adorned with simple patterns. Its size and weight were nothing unusual either.
If Yang Fan had come across this ring on any other day, he wouldn't have given it a second glance. He might've casually tossed it aside, dismissing it as just another trinket.
But this ring was different. It came from beyond the Nine Heavens!
"This ring hides its mystery so well. There must be some earth-shattering secret within," Yang Fan thought, suppressing the thrill rising in his chest. He began to observe the ring carefully, his full attention on its every detail.
However, after a long period of examination, he found nothing unusual about it.
"Strange... there's nothing abnormal about this ring," he muttered, puzzled. He knew full well that this seemingly ordinary silver ring was far from common, but no matter how hard he searched, he couldn't find a clue.
How bizarre, how utterly strange.
Yang Fan calmed himself, staring at the ring with a pensive look on his face.
"According to ancient texts, some legendary treasures of divine power could establish a 'Blood Pact' with their master. If this ring is of a high enough level, it should reveal its secrets through such a bond," he mused. Without further hesitation, he bit his finger, drawing blood, and began tracing intricate scarlet lines in the air. These blood-red markings soon formed a strange pattern—the formation for a Blood Pact, a spell any cultivator above the Qi Refining stage could cast.
With a series of incantations and hand seals, his fingers danced through the air, leaving afterimages, and a flicker of spiritual light caused the blood formation to glow brightly.
At that critical moment, he called out, "Bind!"
Yang Fan's eyes gleamed with spiritual energy as he stretched his finger forward, pointing at the silver ring.
"Go!"
In an instant, the blood-red pattern coalesced into a thumb-sized mark and flew towards the ring, landing on it with pinpoint accuracy.
*Hum!*
A strange ripple echoed through the void.
Yet, when the blood mark touched the silver ring, it vanished without a trace, dissolving into nothingness.
Gone. Without any warning. No sign of what had just happened.
It was eerie, far too eerie.
"What...what just happened?" Yang Fan was stunned. This was beyond anything he had expected. Judging from the outcome, the Blood Pact had failed. If it had succeeded, or if there had been any reaction, Yang Fan would have at least felt some connection with the ring.
Failure.
He exhaled slowly, but instead of giving up, the failed attempt only deepened his sense of the ring's strangeness.
"Maybe I should test the material of this ring…"
With that thought, Yang Fan applied a bit of pressure to the ring.
*Crack!*
The ring snapped, falling to the ground in fragments.
"This..."
Half of Yang Fan's heart turned cold.
The ring had shattered—broken into pieces.
How could a powerful magical artifact be so easily destroyed? Even his own low-grade spiritual weapon, the "Azure Edge Sword," could withstand a blow of a thousand pounds of force. There was no way it could be damaged so easily.
"Well... maybe it really was just an ordinary ring after all," he sighed, a deep sense of disappointment creeping into his voice.
*Hum!*
Suddenly, the fragments on the ground reformed, coming together to recreate the exact ring he had seen earlier.
And then, without warning, the ring shot up from the ground, floating before him, spinning slowly in the air.
Yang Fan's eyes widened in shock. He took a defensive stance and asked, "What exactly do you want?"
*Whoosh!*
The ring blurred, transforming into a streak of shadow, and slipped onto Yang Fan's right middle finger.
The moment it settled on his hand, it began to shimmer with rainbow light. Yang Fan felt himself being pulled into a mysterious, unfathomable space.
...
He now stood in a strange realm, surrounded by an endless expanse of crimson-black earth. The atmosphere was suffocating, filled with the aura of death and destruction. Only beneath his feet was there a patch of green earth, vibrant with life, where lush grass grew, full of vitality and brimming with endless energy.
Curiously, this patch of green was no more than one square meter—like a miniature farm. Beside it stood a small, thatched hut that resembled a tiny warehouse, measuring no more than ten square meters.
*Woof! Woof! Woof!*
A small dog barked beside the hut.
"Welcome to the 'Xianhong Space'..." Yang Fan could understand the dog's words!
Xianhong Space?
What kind of place was this?
At the same time, Yang Fan could still sense his physical body back in the Eastern Victory Continent.
Could this be the legendary Consciousness Space?
*Woof! Woof!*
The dog continued, "The Xianhong Space is ancient beyond measure, witnessing the birth and destruction of countless universes. If you can complete the first equivalent exchange, you'll become the sole non-native pioneer here."
"Most importantly, you will gain access to the second most powerful cultivation technique in the grand multiverse."
"What kind of equivalent exchange?" Yang Fan asked.
The dog's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Break first, then build anew. To master this technique, you must first... castrate yourself."
"What?! Castrate myself? No, absolutely not!" Yang Fan shivered, recoiling from the very thought. No matter how tempting the offer sounded, this was far too much.
As a cultivator, cutting ties with the mundane world and emotions was one thing. Many cultivators had a dual cultivation partner—someone who wasn't just a spouse, but a companion on the path to spiritual progress. They weren't emotionless machines. Love and relationships were simply limited to those within their own realm. A romance between mortals and immortals was strictly forbidden.
"Are you sure you won't reconsider? The Xianhong Space has limitless wonders. This patch of green land can grow anything you plant—whether it's beans or treasures. It can even speed up time. If you wanted, you could even grow the most beautiful women..." the dog's voice was laced with temptation. "The Xianhong Ring can fulfill any wish you have. There's nothing you can imagine that it cannot provide."
"No, no, no..." Yang Fan shook his head furiously. What was the point of growing beautiful women if he had to lose his manhood?
"See that hut? It's a warehouse. Though small for now, it can store anything from your physical world. And it's completely secure," the dog continued its introduction.
"So it's like a storage ring..." Yang Fan muttered in surprise. In the Eastern Victory Continent, storage rings were only mentioned in ancient records. Such treasures were said to be crafted only by immortals, while most cultivators relied on storage bags, which came in varying grades.
"Storage ring?" The dog sneered, clearly unimpressed. "If a storage artifact breaks, everything inside is lost to the spatial rift, shredded into particles. But this warehouse is guarded by me, completely safe. Even if you die, no one else can claim it."
Yang Fan's brow furrowed. *If I'm dead, why would I care about a warehouse?*
"Can this Xianhong Space make me immortal?" Yang Fan asked, taking a deep breath and voicing his ultimate wish. It was the dream shared by all cultivators on the Eastern Victory Continent.
"Immortality?" The dog's gaze turned disdainful once more. "The Xianhong Space can fulfill any desire, without a doubt. Don't make me repeat myself."
"Heh, complete the exchange, and you'll receive a technique that grants true immortality."
"That sounds great... but the cost is too steep," Yang Fan said, still hesitant. The thought of "must first castrate oneself" sent chills down his spine.
"There is, however, a compromise… You don't have to become a eunuch," the dog said slowly.
"A compromise?" Yang Fan's curiosity was piqued. If he didn't need to make such a sacrifice, he might reconsider.
*Whoosh!*
Suddenly, back in the real world, something strange happened at the Yang family's house next door.
...
*Swish!*
The eerie space vanished.
Yang Fan found himself back in his familiar room, staring at the bed, the cushion, the desk, the chairs...
What had just happened felt like a dream—an unreal illusion.
The ring on his finger remained as it had been.
Except now, in the palm of his hand, there was a small paper crane, folded from talisman paper.
*Flap, flap, flap!*
The tiny paper crane fluttered its wings, glowing with a faint azure light, as it hovered playfully before Yang Fan, looking almost alive.