A Clever Cultivator's Life
Han Yuhyeon had been a heartbeat away from mocking Senior Brother Jeong. Then the man's twisted expression brightened as if it had only been waiting for the chance to bloom into a full smile.
"Junior Brother! I heard! You deciphered the Silent Spirit Hidden Scripture! Absolutely brilliant!"
"…Pardon?"
Even Han Yuhyeon, who had weathered every storm imaginable back on Earth, had not seen this coming.
Senior Brother Jeong clapped him on the shoulder with genuine-sounding delight, as though the triumph were his own.
"And you received that fine dharma treasure, the Crescent Moon Small Blade, as well, didn't you? Having a junior brother like you join us is the White Cloud Sect's great fortune—true fortune!"
Han Yuhyeon listened to the drug-like praise in complete bewilderment. Senior Brother Jeong seemed determined to leave him utterly speechless; he rummaged through his storage pouch and produced a cracked wooden disc no larger than a palm.
"This is the dharma treasure I promised."
It was a shabby, cracked shield, yet both Han Yuhyeon and Daoist Yun recognized it at a glance and their eyes went wide.
"Even the humblest defensive dharma treasure usually costs three thousand spirit stones."
"Haha. Think of that as a gift from this senior brother. Still, I'm glad you know its value!"
Of course Han Yuhyeon knew. The disc was the Wood Scale Shield—one of those rare defensive dharma treasures. Among defensive artifacts it ranked at the very bottom, yet defensive treasures themselves were so scarce that even this one could be called a precious item for someone in the early Qi Condensation realm.
Senior Brother Jeong shoved the Wood Scale Shield forward with the cheerful pushiness of a free-sample auntie at a supermarket, and Han Yuhyeon accepted it on reflex, strapping it to his wrist.
"Excellent! You look much more dashing already!"
Only then did Han Yuhyeon's head cool. No matter how high Senior Brother Jeong might be, that remark should never have left his mouth. Claiming that a battered wooden shield made anyone look dashing was already nonsense—but Han Yuhyeon currently possessed a face that no amount of luxury goods could improve.
He had been swept up in the storm of praise for a moment, yet that single line laid bare the blackness of Jeong's true intentions. A moment's thought made it obvious: a man who had just lost a wager would never suddenly turn so friendly.
"Ahem, ahem. I got carried away. It's simply that a fine junior brother has appeared after so long, and I was happy. What is your name?"
"Han Yuhyeon."
"Junior Brother Han, then. I am Jeong Cheon-o."
At least a thread of reason remained; Jeong Cheon-o himself seemed to realize the "dashing" comment had been a step too far and hastily changed the subject. From Han Yuhyeon's perspective that only made it worse. Thinking yourself ugly was one thing; hearing someone else say it was entirely different.
Once his thoughts settled, Han Yuhyeon recovered his composure and began dealing with Jeong Cheon-o properly.
"This humble junior does not know where to put himself before the encouragement of Senior Brother Jeong, pillar of the White Cloud Sect."
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth—hypocrisy for hypocrisy. The moment Jeong Cheon-o started playing the reliable senior, Han Yuhyeon slipped seamlessly into the role of the devoted junior.
"Haha, Junior Brother Han lays on the gold paint rather thickly himself!"
"Hahaha!"
"Hahaha!"
Caught in the middle, Daoist Yun closed his eyes as if the sight were simply too ugly to bear.
"By the way, what brings Senior Brother to the Mission Hall?"
"Nothing much. I wished to post a mission of my own."
Jeong Cheon-o smiled with paternal warmth, the kind of smile one might see on a pastor in a wealthy suburban church. Naturally, the warmer the smile, the higher Han Yuhyeon raised his internal threat level. A snake always coils before it strikes.
Still, Jeong Cheon-o's words did not seem improvised on the spot; a bamboo slip used for registering missions rested in his hand.
Any member of the White Cloud Sect could register a mission at the Mission Hall—provided they supplied both the commission fee and the reward from their own pocket.
"I see. May I ask what sort of mission it is?"
"Haha. A personal matter."
As he answered, Jeong Cheon-o struck his palm with a fist as though a brilliant idea had just struck him.
"Ah—this is also an opportunity. I would like Junior Brother to take my mission. I wouldn't trust just anyone, but you I can rely on. After all, you solved the Silent Spirit Hidden Scripture, the long-cherished wish of our sect. A mission of this level should be trivial for you."
"Haha. If it is within my humble abilities, of course I would be glad to resolve it for you."
"Excellent! Then let us register it at once!"
Smiling, Jeong Cheon-o handed the bamboo slip to Daoist Yun. The moment Yun took it, his eyes bulged.
"Senior Brother Jeong… the reward seems incorrectly set."
"Not at all. You saw correctly."
If a man who had mediated every sort of mission for years looked that shocked, the reward had to be substantial.
Daoist Yun immediately began transferring the contents of the slip onto the Mission Hall's notice board.
Reward: 5,000 Lowest-Grade Spirit Stones
Even Han Yuhyeon's eyes widened at the reward. Five thousand spirit stones. The number looked deliciously appetizing.
And since it was posted on the Mission Hall board, the chance of the poster vanishing without paying was effectively zero.
"What kind of demonic beast appeared that warrants five thousand spirit stones? Is it a first-rank beast?"
Low-realm demonic beasts were ranked from one to nine by danger. Of course, a first-rank beast would never appear in Yeongil-ju; he was only asking for form's sake.
"What does the rank of the beast matter? What matters is that the common folk of Cheonbang-jin are suffering."
What a load of sanctimonious crap. The words rose all the way to the tip of Han Yuhyeon's tongue before he forced them back down.
Regardless of Jeong Cheon-o's nonsense, the five-thousand-stone reward was undeniably tempting.
"Naturally Senior Brother will be going as well?"
"Of course. Three other inner disciples will join me. With you, that makes five."
Why he insisted on attaching Han Yuhyeon to four inner disciples remained unclear; Han hardly seemed like useful combat power.
In truth Han Yuhyeon could simply refuse if the whole thing felt off. Jeong Cheon-o's smiling invitation clearly hid some foul scheme—yet if Han turned it down, some other disciple would simply take the mission instead.
"Very well. I'll take it."
Han Yuhyeon accepted the notice. The mission was assigned before the ink had even dried. Jeong Cheon-o beamed and clapped him on the shoulder.
"A fine choice. Honestly, five thousand spirit stones feels a bit generous. Better to give it to someone I care about."
Since when did you care about me? At this point the man's shamelessness bordered on madness. Then again, this world itself was mad; perhaps only the mad could survive in it. Living wisely as a cultivator might require a certain degree of insanity. In that case Han Yuhyeon could go mad with the best of them. He was the type who read the room carefully and blended in without difficulty.
"We depart the day after tomorrow from the main gate aboard a large flying vessel. Be there by the beginning of the Mao hour."
"Understood, Senior Brother."
"Good. Truly reliable."
Jeong Cheon-o left with a smile. Honestly, Han Yuhyeon had expected the man to deny the deciphering of the Silent Spirit Hidden Scripture and throw a tantrum. This reaction was fresher—though far more insidious and damp. The fact that he had not anticipated it only proved how far he still had to go.
"What do you make of it?"
Once Jeong Cheon-o was gone, Han Yuhyeon glanced sidelong at Daoist Yun.
"Y-yes?"
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Yun flinched. The obedient junior of a moment ago had instantly transformed into a grumpy senior.
"What do you mean 'yes,' you bastard. You heard me."
"My apologies. But it isn't especially unusual. When a fairly large demonic beast appears, groups of disciples often band together. The reward varies wildly depending on the type of beast."
Han Yuhyeon had accepted Jeong Cheon-o's mission for a clear reason: he judged that the mission itself was genuine. He had told no one he was visiting the Mission Hall, so Jeong Cheon-o's appearance there had to be pure coincidence.
Whatever sudden change of heart the man had undergone, he had simply invited Han along on his own mission.
"In group missions the leader is also obligated to record the entire process on a spirit-image crystal, so it's hard to ditch anyone midway."
"There was a rule like that?"
"Yes. In the old days far too many disciples… well, you can imagine."
Ugh, cultivators never change. At any rate Daoist Yun was not lying. According to him there was little risk of being abandoned mid-mission—so why the invitation?
Han Yuhyeon shook his head. Brooding alone would produce nothing. Every possibility remained open. Perhaps Jeong Cheon-o had simply reassessed Han's potential after seeing the assistant-manager post polished clean and now wanted to stay on good terms.
"All right, I understand."
Han Yuhyeon left the Mission Hall and went straight to the Talisman Workshop. When he said he wished to see Baekri-wan, they guided him in at once—far quicker than he had expected.
"What?"
Baekri-wan reclined in her chair with a look of pure ennui. She was currently the only business partner he could truly trust, and therefore the only person he could consult about this matter.
He recounted everything that had happened at the Mission Hall. Baekri-wan merely shrugged as though it were nothing.
"Isn't that common?"
"Pardon?"
"Cultivators who completely reverse their attitude the moment they scent something to extract—how many of those do you think there are?"
She continued while drying a freshly drawn talisman in the sunlight.
"He might want to bury you. Or he might have decided you're useful after all and wants to get along. Or you might have something he wants. There's no way to know. It's your call. It's a bit dangerous, that's all."
"I see."
"But do you know what the most dangerous thing is while walking the path of cultivation?"
"What is it?"
"Staying in situations that are never dangerous. That's the real danger. It's no different from dying a slow death."
Baekri-wan's words solidified the resolve already forming in Han Yuhyeon's mind. Whatever scheme Jeong Cheon-o harbored, Han would simply smash through it with whatever power he possessed. For now he would run solely on the reward he could see.
"Is that all you came for?"
"No."
Han Yuhyeon shook his head.
"I have one request."
"What request?"
"Advance me some talismans. Just once."
At the shameless demand Baekri-wan's face twisted in disbelief. Yet Han Yuhyeon knew this was how cultivators survived. It was the iron-faced art he had just absorbed from Jeong Cheon-o moments earlier.
"Advances come at a premium."
Fortunately Baekri-wan was a cultivator who understood investment.
"What talismans do you want?"
"High-grade Spirit Talismans, mid-grade Concealment Talismans, Fire Spirit Talismans, Wood Spirit Talismans, Water Spirit Talismans, Metal Spirit Talismans, Earth Spirit Talismans…"
"…?"
Baekri-wan's expression grew progressively more distorted, but Han Yuhyeon finished the entire list without concern. She studied his face with almost nauseating thoroughness before carefully asking:
"Have you lost your mind?"
Even under that question Han Yuhyeon's face did not change color in the slightest. This, too, was a secret technique he had learned from Jeong Cheon-o for the sake of living wisely as a cultivator.