The dragon’s tail thrashed wildly, attempting to escape, radiating countless golden rays of light, dazzling and resplendent like a miniature sun—so intense that it was impossible to look at directly. Little Rascal fumbled in a panic but finally managed to clamp it down. Yet, the tail suddenly split apart, transforming into five tiny dragons, each no larger than a fingertip, all trying to flee in different directions.
“Don’t you dare run!” the holy terror roared, clutching them tightly before shoving them all into his mouth. Puffing out his cheeks threateningly, he warned, “If you try to escape again, I’ll eat every last one of you!”
The golden liquid surged violently, causing Little Rascal’s cheeks to bulge in all directions—one moment here, the next there—making it seem like he was pulling faces. In truth, the five tiny dragons were struggling desperately to break free.
“There really *is* Fountain of Youth here! I thought it had dried up long ago. Never expected to find some—and you even caught five drops!” the Living Stone exclaimed in astonishment.
“Is there any way to seal them?” Little Rascal asked, his words muffled as he kept his mouth clamped shut.
“Put them in a jade vial—they won’t be able to escape then.”
Hearing this, Little Rascal quickly rummaged through his robes and pulled out a small jade bottle. He stuffed the five tiny dragons inside and firmly sealed the lid. Then, he shot the Living Stone a suspicious look. This guy knew way too much—and considering he’d been guarding the divine garden, he must’ve snuck more than a few sips of the Fountain of Youth for himself.
“Have you already gained sentience? Do you have a lot of that golden liquid inside you?”
“N-no! Don’t even think about it!” The Living Stone, which had been greedily swallowing sparkling sand grains, startled and rolled away, eyeing him warily.
Little Rascal didn’t press further—time was of the essence. He wanted to catch that golden dragon before the other creatures could claim it all.
“No need to go. You won’t catch it—and neither will those others. The Fountain of Youth has fully taken form, awakened, and can now soar through the skies and burrow into the earth. It’s beyond capture now,” the Living Stone said, shaking its head.
Once a divine liquid like this takes form, its divine nature becomes unparalleled. Given time, it could grow rapidly in power, even becoming a Guardian Spirit—or, given enough centuries, ascending to godhood!
The divine garden was filled with restrictive fields, yet the Fountain of Youth remained unaffected. The golden liquid had transformed into a dragon and vanished in an instant, burrowing deep into the earth.
*Crunch, crunch…*
The Divine Smiting Stone began devouring the sand voraciously. Once it finished the surface layer, it dug underground. Golden mists surged in the air, forming waves of radiant clouds—all thanks to the divine spring.
Though the golden dragon had fled, the lingering divine aura was still strong. The sand and mud, nourished by the spring for countless years, had long since gained spiritual essence.
“Stop hogging it! You’ve already got golden liquid—you can’t possibly eat all this too,” the Living Stone protested.
“I’m taking it back for the Willow God to heal, and to save another Guardian Spirit!” Little Rascal fought back, pulling out stacks of beast-hide sacks to fill.
The Living Stone wrestled with him, and the two of them—equally matched—completely emptied the divine pool. Not content, they dug three feet deep, flipping the earth upside down. The golden radiance vanished entirely—because the two gluttons had plundered every last speck of golden soil, leaving behind nothing but barren dirt.
“Ugh, I’m stuffed!” The Living Stone belched, its body glowing faintly with a golden sheen, looking far more refined than before.
Little Rascal stared at it wide-eyed, realizing for the first time that he’d met his match. This thing was *too* strong—how could it devour half a pool of sand and mud without any issue, digesting it all effortlessly?
“Did you really digest all that?” Little Rascal asked. The pile of golden sand had been much larger than the Living Stone itself—how could it have swallowed it all?
“Of course not all at once! I’m just storing the golden sand for later refinement. This stuff is *treasure*!”
“Not as tasty as before, right?” Little Rascal asked casually.
“Nonsense! Just like aged wine, divine sand gets better with time. Soaked in the Fountain of Youth for so long, the flavor’s even richer now,” the Divine Smiting Stone said dreamily—before suddenly realizing its slip and clamping its mouth shut.
Little Rascal immediately pounced, grabbing it tightly. “You *are* suspicious! Admit it—did you drink up the entire divine spring?”
“Oww! You’re gonna break me! Let go!” it shrieked like a slaughtered pig.
Strangely, after the golden liquid vanished, the restrictive fields weakened—as if they had followed the golden dragon away.
“You *just* admitted you’ve eaten this golden sand before!” Little Rascal punched it, each blow harder than the last.
“Stop! I’ll confess everything!” the Living Stone wailed.
It *had* eaten divine sand multiple times before, but the garden’s laws had eventually driven it away, preventing it from approaching the divine pool. Only now, with the Fountain of Youth nearly dried up, had it gotten another chance.
“You didn’t drink all the golden liquid, did you?” Little Rascal glared suspiciously.
“I can only eat *rocks*! Any liquid I swallow just flows back out!” the Divine Smitting Stone lamented. Stuck guarding a treasure mountain, yet unable to truly claim it.
“But you still got plenty of benefits. Just how much divine sand *did* you eat?”
“First time, I ate over two hundred pounds before getting kicked out. Second time, even less. Third time, I barely got in before being blasted away!” the Living Stone grumbled.
Only this fourth time had it truly eaten its fill. Now, it really *was* different—glowing faintly gold, smoother and more jade-like.
“Why is the Fountain of Youth so diminished?” Little Rascal wondered.
“Gaining sentience and transforming into a dragon isn’t free! It consumed nearly everything—almost failed, too!”
“What a shame. We’ll probably never see the Fountain of Youth again,” Little Rascal sighed.
“Not necessarily. Now that it’s gained sentience and form, once it grows stronger, it *can* produce more golden liquid.”
After learning the truth, Little Rascal cheered up—after all, he *had* obtained five drops of the concentrated essence. Their medicinal effects would surely be astounding.
“One drop for the village chief—it’ll definitely heal his old wounds. One for the Willow God—maybe it’ll uncover some divine secrets. One for Da Zhuang, Pi Hou, and Er Meng to strengthen their foundations… Ugh, it’s *not enough*!” He counted on his fingers, frustrated. Only one or two drops remained for himself.
After a long pause, he snapped back to reality. “Hey, you little rock—did you *steal* my divine sand?!”
“N-no! I was just checking if your beast-hide sacks had holes!” It rolled away nervously.
“Wait—what about the Spirit-Enlightening Flower? You said there was a sacred herb here, the reason you gained sentience. Was that a lie too?”
“There *was* such a flower, but it couldn’t enlighten *me*. It fought me for the sand—but got kicked out too for trying to drink the golden liquid.”
“That was a *sacred herb*! Where’d it go?” Little Rascal’s eyes widened in alarm.
“We fought. I bit it once, and it ran off—but I think it’s still lurking near the herb garden.”
“You *bit* it?! That was a sacred herb! Where’s that bite-sized treasure now?” He grabbed the stone.
“Of course I didn’t waste it! That’d be a sin! I buried it underground, let it rot into sand, *then* ate it.” The Living Stone preened.
*Thud!*
Little Rascal slammed it to the ground and stomped on it, making it howl and roll around. “Stop! Next time I see it, I’ll catch it for you!”
“*You* deserve divine retribution!” Little Rascal fumed. A *sacred herb*—rare even in myth—and this thing had *bitten* it, *buried* it, and *bragged* about it!
“Let’s go! If those pure-blooded creatures fail to catch the Fountain, they’ll come for *your* drops instead,” the Living Stone urged, changing the subject.
Nodding, Little Rascal hoisted eight sacks of sand onto his back and stacked three more on the Living Stone. The two bolted from the garden.
The divine garden reeked of blood—dozens more creatures had fallen, slaughtered by the pure-blooded beasts.
“Finally out!” Little Rascal exhaled in relief, pulling out his Qiankun Pouch. Loosening the golden cord, the pouch’s mouth bloomed with auspicious light, swallowing all eleven sacks of divine sand.
The palm-sized pouch could devour *anything*—incredibly convenient and powerful.
“What now?” the Living Stone asked warily as Little Rascal picked it up, weighing it in his hand.
“To catch the young of ancient dire beasts and divine birds—and find that sacred herb.”
“Then go! Why grab *me*? The mountains stay green, the rivers flow—we’ll meet again!”
“I’m gonna make you *famous*!” Little Rascal declared.
Re-entering the garden, the holy terror relaxed—his main mission was complete. Now, he scavenged for anything else valuable.
Half an hour later, he unearthed eight spirit herbs from the outer regions, carefully preserving their roots and soil.
“Plant these back in Stone Village, sprinkle golden soil—they’ll thrive, filling the whole place with spiritual energy!” He grinned, dreaming of creating a paradise for his clan.
He scoured for more herbs, eager to strip the garden bare.
Along the way, he clashed with the pure-blooded creatures, even joining their hunt for the golden dragon—but after hours, they found nothing.
*Boom!*
Mid-chase, he battled Zhu Jian, tearing off another chunk of precious flesh.
*Thwack!*
“Ow!” The purple-haired maiden and the Living Stone yelped in unison as Little Rascal struck again, leaving a lump on her flawless forehead.
Finally, Little Rascal fled, sprinting madly. He wanted to subdue the descendants of ancient dire beasts, but the creatures—failing to catch the golden dragon—turned on *him*, chasing him for the dragon tail.
“You’re all so *rude*!” he complained as they ganged up on him.
“Kill him!” Zhu Jian roared. It had lost two chunks of flesh—one for roasting, one for stewing, according to that brat.
The purple-haired maiden, usually ethereal and untouchable, now seethed with rage. *Three* lumps on her forehead! And that *brat* had even jumped on her back, wrestling her to the ground, babbling about guarding some *village*!
The Bi Fang was equally furious. That human brat had yammered about showing it a “great tree god,” as if it were some country bumpkin! Its ancestors had devoured *real* gods!
“Kill him!” A Chi Dragon roared, streaking after Little Rascal.
The holy terror had pestered it for dragon blood as “medicine,” then swiped two bloody scales when it wasn’t looking!
Cornered by the pursuing beasts, Little Rascal scowled, reflecting deeply.
Conclusion? These guys were *terrible* company. Rude, *all* of them!
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