Chapter Eight: The Clan's Sacred Treasure (Part Two)

The wrapping cloth appeared quite ordinary—old, bright red, perfectly square, a meter in length on each side. It looked like silk and was usually tucked away in a cabinet.

Tao Ming touched the cloth. "It's just a wrapping cloth. My mother used it to wrap my bedding when I got married."

The White Tiger reached out a paw and stroked the cloth as well. "This texture, this sheen—it’s unmistakably blood-silk, woven exclusively by the Qiluo tribe."

Tao Ming turned the cloth over and over, unable to discern anything special. "Is it really that magical? Shouldn't snow-silk be white?"

"Blood-silkworms are red, and the silk they spin is red as well. What's strange about that?" The White Tiger recalled the image of blood-silkworms in its mind, utterly certain.

Tao Ming frowned. "But snow-silkworms—snow is supposed to be white."

The White Tiger pressed its paw to its forehead. "I'm talking about blood, crimson blood—blood-silkworms."

Tao Ming gave a forced laugh to cover her embarrassment and quickly changed the subject. "So besides wrapping bedding, what else can this thing do? A bridal veil? A door curtain?"

The White Tiger scratched its head. "Your grandmother only told me that such an item existed. I don't know exactly how to use it. Why don’t you try dripping a bit of blood on it?"

Tao Ming glanced at the cloth, then at her finger. "I’m afraid it’ll hurt."

The White Tiger stared wide-eyed at her. "You’re not a child anymore. What’s there to fear about a little cut?"

Tao Ming braced herself. "Wait a moment."

She went into the kitchen, picked up a kitchen knife, looked at her finger, set the knife down, picked up a boning knife, and finally came out empty-handed.

The White Tiger eyed her empty hands. "Did you bleed?"

Tao Ming shook her head sheepishly. "I couldn’t bring myself to do it."

The White Tiger sighed. "Come here, sit down, don’t move, hold out your hand, and close your eyes."

Obediently, Tao Ming sat, closed her eyes, and stretched out her left hand, trembling.

The White Tiger extended its paw and, as soon as it brushed Tao Ming’s finger, she jerked her hand back instantly.

The White Tiger’s paw hung in midair, as if someone had pressed a pause button. It grumbled, "Do you really want to know what this thing is or not?"

Tao Ming felt a bit guilty. "Of course I do. Give me a moment, I’ll get something."

She fetched iodine solution, a cotton swab, and a bandage, then sat on the sofa, eyes closed, hand outstretched, bracing herself as if for execution. "Go ahead."

Learning from last time, the White Tiger didn’t hesitate. In a flash, it nicked Tao Ming’s left index finger with its claw tip, and fresh blood welled up. "Quick, put it on the cloth."

Before she felt anything, Tao Ming opened her eyes at the White Tiger’s words and saw blood. Not wanting to waste it, she wrapped the cloth around her finger.

The instant the cloth touched her blood, a red glow burst forth. Tao Ming felt information pouring into her mind, and her consciousness seemed to connect with something.

It lasted only a few seconds. As the crimson light faded, Tao Ming sensed a clear bond between herself and the cloth; it occupied a place in her mind, as if it had become a part of her body—intimately familiar.

She looked at the cloth in her hand; its appearance had changed. The once old fabric now looked rejuvenated, vivid blood-red, embroidered with a blooming, unknown flower, its luster dazzling—a treasure, unmistakably.

The White Tiger urged, "Quick, see what it is."

Ignoring it for the moment, Tao Ming opened the iodine solution and reached for the cotton swab to treat her finger, only to find the wound already sealed.

The White Tiger rolled its eyes at her. "I am an ancient divine beast, master of precision. I said just a little blood, and that’s all you lost."

Tao Ming gave an awkward smile, steadied herself, and began to study the cloth with the information in her mind. She focused her attention on the cloth within her consciousness, and instantly found herself in an unfamiliar space.

She was startled—the space vanished again.

The White Tiger asked urgently, "Did you discover anything?"

Tao Ming was puzzled. "Was I here the whole time?"

"You seemed to disappear for a moment," the White Tiger replied, uncertain.

"I think I entered another place," Tao Ming frowned deeply.

The White Tiger grew excited. "That must be it! The Qiluo tribe’s ancestral treasure, containing a vast internal space. If disaster or war struck, the tribe would hide inside to escape extinction."

"Wouldn’t outsiders try to steal such a treasure? The imperial family, for example?" Tao Ming wondered.

The White Tiger snorted. "How would anyone know? Besides, it’s always in the clan leader’s hands—hard to steal!"

Tao Ming grunted, refocusing on the cloth within her mind. The space appeared again.

Having learned from last time, she steadied herself and began to observe. The space was immense; Tao Ming stood in a patch of knee-high wild grass, astonished.

She looked around—no boundaries in sight. Not far to the right stood a building. Further away, rolling mountains rose, lush and green, with a waterfall cascading down one slope, though it was too distant to see clearly.

Looking up, she saw a distant, luminous blue sky, empty and vast.

Something about the sky seemed familiar, raising doubts—could this be the place she lived as a child?

Tao Ming struggled through the grass toward the house. Up close, it was a perfect square—ten meters on each side, two stories tall.

She circled the building, finding all four sides identical, each a square. One side had a door, the other three had several windows.

"A cube—what a strange sense of aesthetics," Tao Ming muttered, moving to the door.

Before her was an ordinary security door, complete with lock, handle, and peephole.

She grabbed the handle and pushed, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried each window, but none opened, all curtains drawn, nothing visible.

She searched around, picked up a stone, and tried to smash a window, hoping to climb through. She hit the glass several times, but not even a crack appeared. Frustrated, she exited the space.

She returned to find the White Tiger staring blankly. She knocked its head, and it asked, "Did you find anything?"

Tao Ming frowned. "It’s incredible—a huge space inside a wrapping cloth, with mountains, water, forest, and even a building with a security door. But the door’s locked."

"There must be something important inside," said the White Tiger. "You need to get in."

"I know there must be something, but I can’t get in. If my mother left this behind, the key is probably somewhere. I need to think carefully about where it might be."

The White Tiger was about to speak, but Tao Ming cut it off. "I really don’t know where the key is right now. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to my mother’s family and ask."

"By the way, when I disappeared, did this vanish too?" Tao Ming shook the cloth.

"It disappeared with you."

"That’s not logical!" Tao Ming felt all her years of study were wasted.

"Don't you understand what a divine artifact is?" The White Tiger rolled its eyes.

Tao Ming had no retort, and began folding the cloth, thinking how inconvenient it was to carry around—so large, she couldn’t always take it with her. If only it could shrink.

No sooner had she thought it, the cloth instantly shrank by half. Tao Ming jumped in surprise. This was a wish-granting wrapping cloth! She thought again—it should shrink further, ideally to the size of a fitness wristband.

As the thought formed, the cloth transformed into a red ribbon.

Tao Ming measured it against her wrist, thinking it was small now, but how to fasten it? Would she need to sew on a snap?

Before she could act, the two ends of the ribbon fused together seamlessly, forming a perfect wristband with not a hint of a gap.

She flexed her wrist, feeling no discomfort. "Perfect," she thought.

The White Tiger watched the whole process, mouth agape and eyes wide, until Tao Ming nudged it. Then it exclaimed excitedly, "A divine artifact, indeed! Amazing!"

Tao Ming tapped its head. "Watch your language. You'll corrupt Softie with that kind of talk."

The White Tiger immediately bowed its head. "My mistake, I shouldn't imitate people online."

"Good, you're teachable!"