The best way to use his golden finger was to devour someone as soon as possible, before adding any soul rings to his martial soul.
Once the soul power and vitality of a powerful soul master merged with his body, he could simply add even a 100,000+ year soul ring as his first ring to his martial soul… Not that 100,000+ year soul rings were easy to obtain—especially with Tang San around, always snatching up those rare spirit beasts with casual ease.
But at the very least, it should be possible to add all 10,000+ year soul rings, right?
Speaking of martial souls, his was a simple silver needle. An auxiliary-type martial soul, good for stitching, and could also be used for acupuncture. But what made it a little more special was that it could also be considered a hidden weapon. That was why Tang San took a liking to Ji Xiang and accepted him as his disciple.
But was Ji Xiang going to develop along the auxiliary path?
A big no.
"What am I going to do by treating others? Isn't it better to develop the needle into a man-killing one than to make it man-saving?" That was Ji Xiang's real thought.
"If I add higher-aged soul rings to my martial soul from the start, I can make it evolve into a higher tier. Probably even a Super Martial Soul or beyond," Ji Xiang thought silently with fervor.
So what if his needle was unassuming and low-grade? He would forge it into something deadly.
"Oh, oh—not that exaggerated. But at least something comparable to the Clear Sky Hammer in might," Ji Xiang thought, a faint blush creeping onto his face at the idea.
"But for that to happen, I must use this golden finger of mine as soon as possible—and use it effectively at that..."
When Tang San left, he had asked Purple Pearl to help Ji Xiang obtain his first soul ring. But Ji Xiang—with his eloquent tongue—managed to talk her out of that idea, even if it made him seem utterly foolish.
After all, heading to the mainland without a single soul skill as protection was undeniably risky. But Ji Xiang believed he could manage.
"My plan was to simply live as a nobody for the next four years. Meet a Spirit Hall Soul Douluo or Titled Douluo who's fated to die, plant the seal, and wait for Tang San to come back from the Sea God Trials with Soul Douluo strength and the Sea God Trident. Then, wait for him to wreck havoc in the mainland and let the seal target die... A very simple plan," Ji Xiang thought silently, counting his fingers childishly.
If everything went right, he would gain Titled Douluo-level soul power in just four years.
Even if something went wrong and he chose the wrong person to plant the seal on, that person would likely die within six years anyway—as long as they were from Spirit Hall.
> "The death of a Titled Douluo is never a challenge for me… There are plenty who die in the Jialing Pass war and the final battle between the three gods. Even if I randomly pick someone from Spirit Hall, they'll die within six or seven years."
"The real challenge," Ji Xiang thought, "is choosing someone who dies quickly—ideally within the next four years. For that, I have to recall the plot carefully and stay put on the mainland. I can't cause too big a butterfly effect, or I might shift the major events off course."
Ji Xiang was fully aware of the stakes.
"I'll probably never become a god in this life, not with the way things have already unfolded. Tang San has already seized all the meaningful opportunities of this era."
The time Ji Xiang transmigrated was simply too late. Too late to grasp anything that could raise him to godhood.
"Probably the only option left is to kneel and lick my master's shoes."
Even so, he had a vague idea—one chance, maybe—of becoming a god. But to even attempt that path, he would need Titled Douluo-level strength within five years.
"Alas… Even if I can't become a god, it's still alright to become a Limit Douluo and live for hundreds of years, right? If I can get a piece of Life Gold, I can extend that lifespan too…"
When he first learned about the timeline of his transmigration, Ji Xiang understood that his chances of becoming a god were near zero. So he didn't carry unrealistic expectations.
But that didn't mean he would give up trying.
"If only my seal could devour divine power, I could simply wait for Bibi Dong to die… But alas, although my golden finger is heaven-defying, it's not that heaven-defying…"
Feeling mildly dejected, Ji Xiang laid down on his bed and closed his eyes, letting sleep claim him.
He had tried cultivating over the past few days. And although he had already mastered the Mysterious Heaven Skill with his intelligence and diligence, just like Tang San in the beginning, he was now stuck at the first level, unable to break through without absorbing a soul ring.
So his current hobby had become—sleep.
As for continuing to cycle the first level of Mysterious Heaven Skill for a minuscule amount of soul power gain?
Ji Xiang said... he was too lazy to bother.
---
Two Months Later
The soft creaking of wood and the distant cries of seagulls blended into a rhythmic harmony as dawn stretched across the sea.
Ji Xiang sat cross-legged on the deck, just beside the mast, where the morning light first touched. The purplish-gold rays of sunlight spilled over the horizon—warm and clear—dyeing the ocean surface with a gentle brilliance. It was the kind of light that made everything feel a little more sacred than it actually was.
He slowly opened his eyes—calm, focused.
Then he shut them again.
The Purple Demon Eye technique required complete concentration, especially at this hour. As Tang San had explained, this early moment—when the sun first peeked over the edge of the world—was the best time to cultivate the eye art. The light wasn't too strong, nor too dim. Balanced. Subtle. Like threading a needle in a dream.
He inhaled slowly. Held it. Let it out.
A soft pulse of warmth moved through his eyes, and his perception sharpened. The world became a little more vivid—edges clearer, movements smoother. Even the flapping sails and darting gulls seemed slower, as if time had briefly stretched.
And yet...
"Still feels like I'm just staring at the sun and calling it training," he muttered, eyes half-lidded. "But hey, Master said it works—and who am I to question free power?"
He didn't expect miracles. But day by day, breath by breath, something was changing. His vision no longer tired quickly. He could track swift-moving birds with surprising clarity. And the dull ache behind his eyes after training faded faster each session.
It was working. Slowly. Steadily.
The morning breeze carried the salty scent of the sea, tugging gently at his loose robe. Around him, the deck remained mostly quiet—only a few early-rising crew members moved about, careful not to disturb the disciple of their captain's "master."
Ji Xiang adjusted his posture, back straightening slightly as he focused once more.
When the purple-gold rays began to fade, he opened his eyes again, turning his gaze to the distant horizon.
Today, in just a few hours, the ship would reach the mainland.
Two months of sea travel had already made him feel sick of the ocean.
"Finally," he whispered to himself. "It's time to say farewell to the sea."