Expectations
When Han Yuhyeon didn't know what to do about the spirit stones, Baekri-wan spoke as if it were only natural.
"The talismans sold far too well this time. This is a portion of the profits. I'm well aware how large your contribution was."
"I don't believe we had a contract for that."
The agreement between Han Yuhyeon and Baekri-wan had clearly been a thousand spirit stones for each promotional spirit stone carrying an advertisement. Yet what sat before him looked like no fewer than a hundred lower-grade spirit stones. Converted to the lowest grade, that was a hundred thousand spirit stones.
"I'm giving it as a matter of principle. You don't need a contract just to give someone something."
"……Principle."
Talking with Baekri-wan always seemed to introduce words and concepts that felt a long way from the xianxia world—and that was saying something for Han Yuhyeon, who styled himself a veteran who knew everything there was to know about Yeonhwa Seonrok.
"Then I'll gratefully accept for now."
"Good thinking."
The denser a region's spiritual energy, the lower the value of spirit stones became. More precisely, inflation got worse.
Even just moving to the next region in the game—So-ui-ju—the mining yield of lower-grade spirit stones rose sharply. The quality of mined spirit stones climbed as the regions changed.
In that light, a hundred lower-grade spirit stones in Yeongil-ju—roughly a hundred thousand of the lowest grade—was an enormous fortune. Frankly, you could found a sect with that much.
Han Yuhyeon watched Baekri-wan carefully before he spoke.
"Elder Baek, you seem quite detached from material things. That isn't easy for a cultivator."
"No? I understand the value of material things better than anyone. I simply know that sometimes the intangible is worth more than the tangible."
Baekri-wan set her teacup on the table. Fine wood meeting fine tea ware rang out pure and bright.
"And don't try to probe me clumsily."
Baekri-wan's clear eyes cut straight through him. Han Yuhyeon flinched at once.
He had always thought Baekri-wan was a cultivator who didn't belong in Yeongil-ju. That was why he'd tested her with the question—and she had caught him perfectly.
"I apologize."
"No. I think it's natural for you to be curious. What I'm saying is don't approach it so underhandedly. We've built a certain amount of trust between us."
"I understand."
"I know what you're curious about. I'm simply not ready to tell you yet."
Baekri-wan turned her head toward the window. The fantastic scenery of the xianxia world flowed beyond the glass. The antique building, the immortal landscape outside, the beauty with her long lashes—it was like a landscape painting unfurled across the frame.
"Ah, and I forgot to say it. My personal disciple. Congratulations."
Looking out the window, Baekri-wan spoke as if the thought had only just occurred to her.
"Thank you."
"So? How does it feel to be my personal disciple?"
"Not bad. The monthly spirit stone stipend has increased, I can access more secret manuals in the Scripture Pavilion, and I can come to places like this tea garden."
"True enough. But it won't all be good."
"Pardon?"
The reason Han Yuhyeon had been reluctant to become a personal disciple was the fear of getting tangled in the elders' power struggles. But hadn't Baekri-wan promised to block that? At this point he couldn't think of anything particularly bad.
"I'm not speaking from knowledge. But whenever someone's position changes, troublesome things tend to arise. That's the way of the world."
"That's true."
Simple advice, then. Han Yuhyeon nodded. Certainly in this world, you had to stay wary of everything.
After that, Baekri-wan seemed finished with everything she needed to say. She closed her eyes again and simply drank her tea. In that lofty atmosphere, Han Yuhyeon didn't dare attempt small talk.
Anyway, it was the first café date with a beauty Han Yuhyeon had ever had—across both his previous life and this one.
The inner disciple appointment ceremony was three days later. Before going to the Grand Scripture Hall, Han Yuhyeon put on the silk robes that symbolized an inner disciple. Today was the day he would become a true, genuine inner disciple—not a temporary one.
A cultivator in charge of administration at the Grand Scripture Hall had asked him to dress as neatly as possible and make no mistakes. It was an honorable occasion, with the Sect Master and all the elders participating.
Han Yuhyeon went up to the Grand Scripture Hall. Even from outside, the place looked busy. They had moved the schedule up a little this time, but originally the appointment of inner disciples was an event that happened only once a year.
"You've come, Junior Brother. Come to me."
When he approached the main gate of the Grand Scripture Hall, a cultivator was already waiting for him. From the silk attire, this was a true disciple—the rank above inner disciple.
From true disciple onward, one could learn all of the sect's ultimate techniques. It was effectively the position of a future elder. So while there were dozens of inner disciples, true disciples numbered fewer than ten.
"Greetings, Senior Brother. I am Han Yuhyeon."
"I know, Junior Brother. Anyone in Baekun-pa who doesn't know your name these days must have just come out of closed-door cultivation."
The true disciple called him Junior Brother, yet didn't seem particularly glad of conversation with Han Yuhyeon. His tone conveyed a clear sense of saying only what needed to be said. Han Yuhyeon had no intention of pretending friendliness either, so he followed in silence.
"If you're clever enough to become an inner disciple, I shouldn't have to say it twice. The procedure is simple. The Sect Master will bestow the token given to Baekun-pa's inner disciples. You receive it and perform the nine bows. Understood?"
"Understood."
Listening to the true disciple, they entered a hall-like space inside the Grand Scripture Hall. The hall was already lavishly decorated, and the other disciples selected as inner disciples this time were also present.
"You're the top, so stand at the very back. You'll receive your token last."
"Yes."
The new inner disciples standing in single file each took a step forward as Han Yuhyeon approached.
"Wait, and the elders and Sect Master will enter."
The true disciple gave instructions to the four new inner disciples and disappeared somewhere. The canopy was splendidly embroidered in gold thread with the words Baekun-pa Inner Disciple Appointment Ceremony.
Han Yuhyeon briefly cocked his head and glanced ahead. The new inner disciples wore stiff expressions under the pressure of the decorated Grand Scripture Hall. But Han Yuhyeon wasn't particularly nervous. It was only Baekun-pa's inner discipleship—nothing to be nervous about.
"The elders are entering!"
Someone shouted. The newcomers, Han Yuhyeon included, all pressed their arms to their sides and straightened their spines.
Behind the platform where the tokens would likely be bestowed were chairs, apparently for the elders.
There were eight elders in total. Including Mun Il-pyeong and Baekri-wan, these were people he hadn't even exchanged greetings with. He thought he'd heard their names, but he'd already forgotten them.
"The Sect Master is entering!"
Once all the elders were seated in the prepared chairs, the Sect Master entered as if on cue. Unlike the elders, who appeared with solemn expressions, the Sect Master came in with a smile in his eyes.
Suddenly Han Yuhyeon remembered what the Baekun-pa Sect Master's personality had been like. Someone who laughed heartily even when scolded by Elder Baekri-wan, and who hadn't said much even to Han Yuhyeon when he'd been judged to have trash-tier spiritual roots. His appearance was that of a comfortably genial old man.
"So these are the friends who will become part of our family this year!"
The Sect Master laughed heartily as he climbed the platform. At his laughter, the rigid atmosphere of the Grand Scripture Hall seemed to ease a little.
"A pleasure. I am Un Song-byeok, Sect Master of Baekun-pa."
Come to think of it, he hadn't even known the Sect Master's name. How little presence must the man have had. Then again, they said if you didn't know the king's name, the realm was at peace—perhaps this Sect Master was governing Baekun-pa well.
"I thoroughly enjoyed this year's inner disciple selection. Quite a few rare talents appeared. I have high expectations for these new inner disciples."
Beyond that, Un Song-byeok rambled on about various things—the techniques Baekun-pa pursued, why he had founded the sect, what kind of culture he wanted for it. It was about as boring and uninteresting as a principal's morning address, so Han Yuhyeon let it in one ear and out the other.
"Well. This old man got carried away and poured out all sorts of nonsense. I should quickly bestow the inner disciple tokens that make you members of the family. The friend at the front, step forward."
Still, he gave the impression of a kindly old man, so it wasn't bad. The inner disciple appointment ceremony was truly uneventful.
The Sect Master asked each new inner disciple their name, gave them a token, and offered encouragement. When that was done, the inner disciple performed the nine bows to the Sect Master and returned to their place.
While Han Yuhyeon zoned out from boredom, all three sets of nine bows finished. Those who had received their tokens stood behind him, so now he stood at the very front.
"The moment I've been waiting for! I've waited a long time for you!"
The Sect Master broke into a broad smile at Han Yuhyeon's face. Since his face was covered in scales, it couldn't have been because he was ugly.
Han Yuhyeon walked with the most proper gait he could manage and stood before the Sect Master.
"Han Yuhyeon."
"Of course I know! You're the great fortune of our sect. How could I not know a disciple who deciphered even the Silent Spirit Hidden Records that stumped the elders, and who has shown such outstanding distinction!"
It was such a clearly different address from the previous three that Han Yuhyeon was almost embarrassed. The blatant favoritism was thick in his tone. Then again, the results Han Yuhyeon had shown in the inner disciple selection could fairly be called a crane among chickens.
"Here. Take this. Your token."
"Thank you, Sect Master."
Han Yuhyeon received the token respectfully with both hands. Of course, his gratitude wasn't as sincere as his attitude. After all, in the xianxia world a sect wasn't a blood alliance like in wuxia—it was closer to a game guild. There was no particular need to feel a sense of belonging.
Having tucked the token into his robes, Han Yuhyeon slowly began the nine bows. When the nine carefully performed bows ended, Un Song-byeok patted him on the shoulder.
"Well done. I have a separate gift I want to give my top disciple."
What was this now. It wasn't in the procedure he'd heard from the true disciple, so Han Yuhyeon was flustered.
"A gift, sir?"
"Yes, yes. A gift you'll be quite satisfied with."
The Sect Master laughed loudly. At this point, Han Yuhyeon was getting excited too. He was still the head of a sect. Maybe he'd give something like a precious magical artifact.
"Disciple, I am curious what gift it might be."
"Of course you'd be curious. Just wait a moment."
Un Song-byeok turned and, hands clasped behind his back, slowly headed toward the chairs behind the platform where the elders sat. Had he hidden something behind the platform? The elders seemed to think the same, looking around themselves. From that, it appeared even the elders hadn't known about the gift.
Han Yuhyeon watched the Sect Master with anticipation. Before long Un Song-byeok had drawn close to the elders. And then, as if harvesting rice with a sickle, the Sect Master cut off Mun Il-pyeong's head.
"Eh!"
One of the disciples cried out in surprise at the sudden situation. Looking at how the other elders' eyes flew open as they sat together, they hadn't known either.
Mun Il-pyeong's head rolled to the front of the platform. His eyes blinked and his mouth worked open and closed. He seemed not to have expected his death in the slightest.
"This fellow seemed to harbor quite a grudge against you. Even brought in some assassin from outside. I figured having him around would only make you uncomfortable, so I took care of him for you."
Un Song-byeok bent down, picked up Mun Il-pyeong's head, and approached Han Yuhyeon. Still stunned, Han Yuhyeon couldn't say a word.
"Here, take it. A gift for you."
Even as he offered the head, Un Song-byeok still wore the smile of a kindly old man.
If Han Yuhyeon had fallen out of Un Song-byeok's favor, he might have been the one dying so emptily.
A chill ran down Han Yuhyeon's spine as he realized his judgment of Un Song-byeok had been completely wrong.