The slender golden rods landed neatly on the table, aligned in perfect order.
Each rod bore intricate engravings matching those on the compass—but with a blank space deliberately left in the center, clearly meant for writing or carving something.
These rods could serve as the compass’s needles—albeit a bit oversized.
After finishing everything, Granny Ping looked a touch weary.
“This artifact is called the Sifang Jingyi—take a look.”
Hu Tao was already more than satisfied.
She picked up a rod, then the Sifang Jingyi itself, testing the energy flowing through them. Her eyes lit up with excitement.
As expected of something crafted by an adeptus—this is exquisite!
“How do we use it?”
“It’s quite simple.”
“These rods serve as the directional pointers for the Sifang Jingyi. Each one corresponds to a single person.”
Granny Ping handed a rod to Hu Tao. “Drip a little blood onto it.”
Hu Tao followed the instruction. She pricked her fingertip with a needle and squeezed out a single drop of blood onto the rod.
The blood slowly seeped into the blank area. A name appeared—Hu Tao—bright red like cinnabar.
“I’ve inscribed a bit of adeptus magic into them. It can record a person’s aura, and also sense whether they are alive or dead. If the person dies, the name will turn gray. Place the rod into the Sifang Jingyi, and it will point toward their location—even if they’ve passed.”
Hu Tao had originally thought one artifact per person would be wasteful, so she designed a removable pointer system.
That way, it’d be far more cost-effective—and much more versatile.
She placed the rod with her name into the Sifang Jingyi. It snapped into place, drawn to the golden orb at the center, becoming the device’s pointer.
But to her surprise—nothing happened.
“Why isn’t it moving? Can’t it track the living?”
If it could track the living too, they could expand into the missing persons market. No way she’d pass up a golden business opportunity like that.
“It can.” Granny Ping formed a hand seal. A soft light glowed from the Sifang Jingyi, and the pointer began to shift—aiming directly at Hu Tao.
She moved to the right. The pointer followed.
She moved left. Still followed.
Hu Tao jumped up and grabbed the beam running across the workshop’s ceiling. She wanted to test how the compass would respond when she was above it.
Would you look at that!
The pointer stood upright!
Then she crouched beneath it—the pointer flipped and aimed straight down.
“Whoa!”
Jiang Bai’s eyes widened in awe. “It’s so precise!”
“It doesn’t just locate people,” Granny Ping continued. “When fitted with a blank rod, it works as a standard compass.”
She removed Hu Tao’s rod and replaced it with a blank one. As expected, the pointer shifted to point south.
“Does it work in adepti realms too?”
Granny Ping chuckled. “Of course. Even in realms like this, directions still exist.”
“If you’re ever trapped in a domain or dangerous location, it can guide you out.”
“I’ll teach you how to switch between modes…”
The Sifang Jingyi had several operating modes. The default was to locate the deceased. With a toggle, it could find the living. Another mode helped identify exits. If none were active, it functioned like a regular compass.
Incredibly versatile—and incredibly practical.
Jiang Bai memorized the method for switching modes, then clutched the Sifang Jingyi like it was a priceless treasure.
Granny Ping, clearly pleased with the result, quoted them a very “reasonable” fee.
“Let’s call it a modest ten million Mora for labor.”
The Sifang Jingyi nearly slipped out of Jiang Bai’s hands.
Ten million?! That’s just the labor fee?!
Sure, it wasn’t coming out of his pocket—but his soul still hurt. It hurt a lot.
He only had 101 Mora to his name!
This thing costs ten million?! My god… is this what adeptus labor costs?!
It’s so expensive!
Hu Tao, on the other hand, didn’t bat an eye. She paid without hesitation.
If she could get an adeptus to craft something, what was ten million Mora?
Besides, with how many functions the Sifang Jingyi had, even charging 10,000 per use would pay it off in no time!
And for wealthy clients or emergency jobs, she could charge hundreds of thousands—maybe even a million!
And who’d be working those jobs?
Why, none other than our dear Jiang Bai!
The poor man hadn’t even started yet and already felt his future stretching into an endless void.
He feared he’d have to work at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor till he died just to pay it off…
“Granny Ping, what do we do when we run out of these rods?”
Hu Tao counted—there were 100 in total, minus the one with her name. That left 99. Definitely not enough to support her grand business plans.
“They’re not disposable,” Granny Ping replied. “You can purify them and reuse them. I’ll teach you a purification spell.”
Jiang Bai quietly pocketed the rod with Hu Tao’s name, just in case she tried to cleanse it.
With that thing, finding Hu Tao would be way easier!
No more worrying about losing track of the Director!
Hu Tao: (¬_¬)
She saw it—but said nothing.
After all, even she couldn’t guarantee she’d never die unexpectedly. If that ever happened, it’d be good to have someone to recover her body.
“If you ever run out, just come to me for more.”
“Does it have to be blood to imprint a person’s aura?”
“If you place it near personal belongings—clothing, hair, something worn often—it’ll gradually pick up their aura too. But blood is the most effective.”
Hu Tao nodded. That meant she could absolutely launch a missing persons service!
“I’ve mixed basalt sand into both the rods and the Sifang Jingyi. It won’t be affected by elemental forces, and it’s extremely difficult to destroy.”
Granny Ping waved her hand, and the rods aligned themselves neatly—stacking together like a bamboo scroll.
Hu Tao tossed the bundle to Jiang Bai, who caught them carefully.
Even though Granny Ping had said they were tough, these were still worth a fortune!
If one of these breaks, I’ll cry!
The Director won’t even spare a single Mora for me, but she tosses around ten million like it’s nothing.
I mean, look at me. This face? Definitely worth at least a few Mora, right?
Jiang Bai felt a deep, quiet suffering in his heart… but didn’t dare say a word.
“Jiang Bai, go wait outside for a bit. I want to have a word with Granny Ping.”
“…Alright.”
He left the workshop with the compass and the bundle of rods, then sat on a large rock in the grass outside, staring off into space.
He couldn’t help wondering what the Director wanted to say that he couldn’t hear.
As for eavesdropping?
Only a fool would try something like that under an adepti’s nose.
As he idly pulled at blades of grass, a tiny, curious head peeked out from the seemingly inhabited house nearby.
A girl with wide, sparkling eyes, her long hair tied up with a butterfly-shaped bow, and two large bells hanging from it that chimed with her movements.
Hearing the sound, Jiang Bai looked up—and their eyes met.
—
T/N: yao yao L:D
This is a fan translation of 胡桃拿我冲业绩 by 余溯. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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