This was the only thought occupying He Yiming’s mind at that moment. His entire being was suffused with joy, a delight that sank deep into his bones, completely banishing the recent shadow of sorrow.
For humankind, what is the most precious thing?
The distant oasis that quenches thirst—that which can never be attained is indeed precious. Countless individuals strive toward a goal perpetually out of reach, only to find themselves forever unable to realize their dream.
But that objective can only ever be a dream; it is absolutely not the most precious thing.
What is truly most precious is that which is gained and then lost.
Those things we fail to cherish while possessing them, but whose importance we grasp only upon their loss, are the most invaluable. For only in that moment can one viscerally experience the agony of regret, the feeling of being utterly heartbroken.
He Yiming’s previous onset of inner demons and being led astray by the evil fire was precisely because his fury had surged to an uncontrollable degree.
Yet now, he was not besieged by that corrosive fire; instead, his heart was brimming with an indescribable euphoria.
One Hundred and Eight (Bai Ling Ba)—though he had been split into countless fragments, it was not an irreparable shattering.
The most crucial element turned out to be that tracker.
However, a tracker was not something unique to him alone. Both Baozhu (Treasure Pig) and Baima Leidian (White Horse Lightning) carried such devices. But why was it that only his tracker could transform and trace?
A thought flashed through his mind, and he immediately recalled the item Hundred and Eight had entrusted to him just before leaving the passage.
At this instant, he vaguely began to understand. Perhaps Hundred and Eight had long foreseen—or rather, calculated—this exact scenario, which was why he had laid this contingency.
He violently thrust out a fist, hammering heavily onto the ice surface, punching a large hole straight through the frozen layer.
This Hundred and Eight, to silently entrust him with such an item without a word. If he hadn't suddenly noticed the abnormality in Little Hundred and Eight's shape, wouldn't he have missed it entirely?
If he had truly missed it…
He Yiming shivered violently, scarcely daring to pursue the thought further.
He extended a finger, sending a wisp of consciousness outward. The Divine Dao Puppet immediately materialized beside the White Stone. It stood silently, its eyes, tinged with faint streaks of crimson, gazing forward without focus.
With a puppet capable of reaching the level of Divine Dao standing guard, He Yiming felt utterly secure.
Unless the Divine Dragon returned, not even a Pseudo-Divine Realm expert could overcome the Divine Dao Puppet in a short time. During that window, He Yiming and the others would already have ascended from the sea.
With arrangements settled, He Yiming gently patted Little Hundred and Eight’s form, murmuring, “You rascal, once you return, I’ll settle accounts with you.”
As soon as his voice faded, he dove into the seabed, swimming swiftly in a particular direction.
Searching for fragments of the White Stone within the ocean was undeniably a taxing and thankless task. If these individuals were not beings at the Divine Dao level, whose spiritual intent was so vast that it had formed a tangible Intent Body, they would never have the slightest hope of locating fixed targets in that boundless sea.
Nevertheless, when the five Divine Dao experts searched with painstaking effort, their gains were substantial. After a mere three days and nights, when they reconvened on the ice surface, a large collection of white fragments lay spread out before them.
But by this point, finding any further fragments had become exceptionally difficult.
Staring at the scattered stones, anxiety churned within He Yiming. He knew the situation well: these fragments had not fallen onto land but plummeted into the depths. If he couldn't gather them all quickly, given the White Stone's inherent lightness, they might drift off to unknown locations carried by the currents.
Although he was certain they had recovered more than half, collecting the remainder remained fraught with challenges.
The only solace and gratitude He Yiming felt was that neither Yuan Lixun nor Mou Zilong, nor even the indolent Baozhu, uttered a single complaint; all of them exerted themselves fully, holding nothing back.
Looking at the Hundred and Eight, which had grown noticeably larger while affixed to the White Stone, He Yiming’s brow lifted abruptly, and a peculiar notion surfaced.
He reached out and, without hesitation, pulled Little Hundred and Eight off the White Stone.
Little Hundred and Eight looked up. Its eyes remained dull and vacant, seemingly unable to comprehend why He Yiming was removing him from the stone.
“Listen to me,” He Yiming stated gravely. “There are five of us, risking everything to find this substance.” He pointed to the White Stone Little Hundred and Eight had been clinging to. “But this material is scattered everywhere, making it extremely hard to track. So, we need your help.”
Little Hundred and Eight remained utterly still, as if incapable of understanding He Yiming’s plea.
Cold sweat beaded on He Yiming’s forehead. For someone of his cultivation level to sweat indicated the severity of his tension.
“Help me, let’s search together,” He Yiming said earnestly, his voice carrying a tremor and a note of pleading. In that moment, the figure before him was not the simpleton Little Hundred and Eight, but the true Hundred and Eight who fought beside him and roamed the world with him.
“You can absorb it, absorb it slowly; all of this is yours, no one will compete with you. But now, you must first help us find all the White Stone.”
Under He Yiming’s expectant gaze, Little Hundred and Eight finally showed movement.
Its body began to shake slowly, and then, to He Yiming’s astonishment, it detached its own legs, its arms, and even its head.
Placing these five components before him, Little Hundred and Eight’s body convulsed, and it regrew a head and limbs. Then, it leaped up, jumping back onto the White Stone, clinging firmly to it.
The limbs and head left on the ground began to writhe slowly, eventually transforming into five smaller versions of Little Hundred and Eight.
He Yiming’s lips twitched. He murmured, “I knew it. You definitely had a way.”
A ripple of water sounded behind him as Mou Zilong reappeared. He waved his hand, and ten White Stone fragments flew over.
“Brother He, the White Stone fragments are harder to find now,” Mou Zilong sighed, exhaling. “I plan to search further afield this time, so it might take a full day before I return.”
He Yiming quickly waved his hand. “Hold on, Brother Mou.”
Mou Zilong turned back, looking over suspiciously, only to hear He Yiming say, “Brother Mou, I have a friend who can guide us to the location of the White Stone. If you take this fellow with you, you will certainly find more fragments more quickly.”
Mou Zilong’s eyes brightened. He chided gently, “Brother He, if you possessed this means, why didn’t you reveal it sooner?”
He Yiming managed a wry smile and offered repeated apologies. Previously, he had only known how to search everywhere; if the speed of discovery hadn't progressively slowed, he wouldn't have considered this alternative.
He carefully passed one of the tiny Hundred and Eights over. “Take him with you, search in the direction he points, and you will surely find results.”
Mou Zilong stared blankly as he accepted the little creature, which was thinner than his own pinky finger. His eyes shone with incredulity.
This small being not only resembled a human but could walk independently. Watching its movements, if its body were enlarged hundreds of times, would it not be indistinguishable from a human?
Recalling that He Yiming referred to this thing as a ‘friend,’ an indescribable chill crept into Mou Zilong’s heart.
“What… what is this thing?” Mou Zilong asked, his voice hoarse.
He Yiming smiled slightly. “This is Hundred and Eight.”
Mou Zilong’s eyes widened instantly, his mouth dropping further and further until he could no longer close it!
After a long moment, Mou Zilong finally drew a deep breath. “So, Mr. Hundred and Eight is a Divine Beast. However, a Divine Beast with such a human-like appearance is something I have never witnessed in my entire life.”
He Yiming paused for a moment, finally grasping the misunderstanding in Mou Zilong’s mind.
He had assumed Hundred and Eight was a Divine Beast, like Baozhu, capable of freely changing its size and shape, but whose appearance was merely somewhat peculiar.
Shaking his head, caught between laughter and tears, He Yiming offered a brief explanation. Mou Zilong then left with the tiny Hundred and Eight, his feelings complex. To learn that such miraculous life forms existed in the world was truly unbelievable.
However, with this guide leading the way, collecting all the White Stone fragments was no longer just a dream.
He Yiming did not pause; instead, he distributed the remaining tiny Hundred and Eights to Baozhu, Baima Leidian, and Yuan Lixun.
The sudden appearance of these minute Hundred and Eights startled everyone, but compared to Mou Zilong, they accepted the little fellows far more quickly.
He Yiming presented the two Spatial Ornaments he possessed to Baima Leidian and Baozhu, respectively. Once they located White Stone fragments, they could deposit them directly into the ornaments, eliminating the need for return trips.
Thus, a full month passed before they gathered here again, having successfully collected every last shard of White Stone.
This success was evidenced by the fact that the five small Hundred and Eights were no longer pointing in various directions but were eagerly merging with the larger Hundred and Eight attached to the White Stone.
Watching the increasingly large Hundred and Eight, whose growth rate seemed to accelerate, He Yiming’s heart filled with a feeling akin to bliss.
And Mou Zilong, the seasoned Divine Dao expert, regarded Hundred and Eight with a new measure of awe.
“Brother He, how long do you intend to stay here?” Mou Zilong inquired softly.
He Yiming, in high spirits, looked at Hundred and Eight and laughed heartily. “I will wait here for Brother Bai to recover. Until he is whole again, I will not leave this place.”
Mou Zilong paused briefly, then nodded with approval. “Mr. Bai made such a tremendous sacrifice to seal the passage; this is exactly as it should be.”
He Yiming agreed, looking at Hundred and Eight and offering a silent prayer.
Get well soon, I still need to hire you as my bodyguard.
His gaze shifted to the White Stones, sparking a rather peculiar thought: Could these stones, whose energy had already been half-depleted, still attract Hundred and Eight's service?
P.S.: Last three days left, please vote for monthly tickets, don’t let them go to waste.