Daily life of a cultivation judge Chapter 1483: Wondrous transformations (2)

"The form can vary," said Tang Xiadan as he flipped the coin, and by the time it landed on his palm, it had transformed into a brown mud-caked wine gourd. He uncorked the gourd and tilted it, as though pouring something out of it. Dark brown sand poured out, and as it did, the gourd shrank in size until it transformed into sand itself. Tang Xiadan brushed the pile of sand to the left and right, revealing an old, mottled, faded gold ring with a tree symbol inscribed on it.

"It can change into countless forms," Tang Xiadan commented as he spun the ring clockwise, and when it completed the rotation, its form had changed into a pumpkin seed. He flicked it to the side, it became a bamboo pin, and then a chopstick, a hand-sized mirror, a small rusty bell, a cockerel feather, before finally resuming its original form as a coin, its aura completely subdued.

Yang Qing’s eyes remained fixed on the coin as he watched the transformations. Even with his powerful soul, he couldn’t see through them. Whether bell, mirror, bamboo pin, or chopstick, to his soul they looked and felt exactly as they took. He couldn’t tell that beneath those mundane forms hid Ancestral Jade.

"It changes according to your imagination, or you can let it surprise you, like I have," said Tang Xiadan as he put the coin away into the cauldron, patting it once to transform it back into the rectangular arched coin box from before, then stored it away.

"The Treasure Coin Palace must have made them that way in consideration of the safety of those who found them, while also increasing the difficulty of the coins being found," said Tang Xiadan. "I wonder if it’s a feature of the Ancestral Jade, or some ability of their members," he added, his eyes burning with deep fascination.

Yang Qing’s eyes burned with the same interest as he moved to examine his own coin. After refining it, he felt a connection forming with a profound, vast power within the coin, and from it came a piece of information. His eyes widened in surprise as his gaze rose to Tang Xiadan. "The coordinates?" he asked, surprise flowing through his tone and expression.

"Shouldn’t you be wary of me turning on you now that I have the location?" Yang Qing said immediately, voicing his confusion at Tang Xiadan’s actions.

The coordinates of the ruin were projected into Yang Qing’s mind the instant he refined the coin. While not exactly pinpointed to within centimeters, they were more than enough to guide him close enough to the place, and he vaguely felt that once close, the coin would still play a part. He’d sensed countless intricate sigils within it, of which, as expected, he couldn’t decipher . But given the sheer volume, those sigils likely weren’t only for transformation, aura isolation, and location designation. Some of them might come into play once he reached the place inscribed within it.

He essentially had a key of his own now.

"Well, considering what you said earlier about valuing your life, I don’t have to worry about you going there before me, do I?" Tang Xiadan asked, half joking. "Besides, in life you have to take a gamble on things, and there are moments that demand certain levels of sincerity, even when it defies common logic. This is one of those moments for me," he said, with an easy-going but sincere manner about him.

"Years from now, after successfully breaking through, I could go there and find the ruin completely empty for one reason or another. Maybe the things there got destroyed through the passage of time, or other measures. Or the place got looted by some other cultivator who has a coin of their own.

It isn’t a guarantee that I’ll find anything there. And if there is something there to be found, and you decide to go there before me, well, I will take that as the workings of fate and chance. The thrill of adventure is in its unpredictability," he said, grinning widely, his eyes burning with passion.

"You’re not normal, are you?" said Yang Qing, smiling wryly.

"Never claimed to be," Tang Xiadan said, smiling, before reaching for a sip of his wine.

Yang Qing gazed at him for a few seconds, shaking his head, before his attention drifted back to his coin, eagerness bubbling up within him. He tapped the coin, drawing a curious look from Tang Xiadan, who watched keenly to see what it would transform into. The coin’s transformations had been a novel form of entertainment for him. Since he’d gotten them, he had never seen them repeat the same form.

"" Tang Xiadan’s thought was cut short, his eyes widening as he saw the object in front of him.

Yang Qing, on the other hand, looked equally surprised, albeit for different reasons, his eyes now burning with a possessive desire.

He could hear Feng Xin’s spirit whisper in his ear.

"It is crispy," Yang Qing murmured, falling deep into the ensnaring voice of Feng Xin’s spirit as his eyes fell on that perfectly roasted, golden crisp drumstick. "Even the smell is just right," he whispered, with saliva slowly gathering in his mouth as faint golden steam wafted from the drumstick perfectly clasped in his hand. "Even the fit and the feel of it is perfect," said Yang Qing, tears almost building from the weight of the dilemma.

"" Though his hand didn’t move, he could feel Feng Xin’s spirit plotting mutiny as it moved to try and hijack his body when it saw words didn’t seem to be enough.

"Surely not," Yang Qing murmured, his voice with a faint tremor to it, just like his hand that was trembling as it rose slowly from the table. His expression was of a man at a crossroads.