Qingyun Sect Admission (3)

When I opened my eyes, faint sunlight was filtering into the eastern chamber. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠let out a slow breath.

'Definitely different.'

Cultivating with the new technique had stabilized the spiritual energy in my body far more than before. I'd gathered at least twice as much qi compared to practicing the basic method on the way to Qingyun Sect. Being in a place where spiritual veins flowed probably helped too.

I sat still for a moment, then a thought struck me.

'Come to think of it... I haven't checked my status window in a while.'

Things had been too hectic lately—running into demon beasts, learning Father's true identity, getting into Qingyun Sect. I thought inwardly,

'Status window.'

I stared at the status window for a long while. I'd already felt the shift to Qi Condensation 3rd Star in my body, but it was new to see the cultivation method registered here too.

I closed the window and stood up. After shaking off my robes lightly, I stepped out of the chamber. The morning scenery of Qingling Peak unfolded before me—thin mist hugging the valley, disciples bustling in the distant spirit fields from dawn. Some carried water jars, others hoed the soil or tended spirit herbs.

As I took in the sight, a very real problem hit me.

Gurgle.

'Hungry.'

I blinked. Of course. I'd entered the sect yesterday, skipped meals, and cultivated all night. Even as a Qi Condensation cultivator, total fasting wasn't feasible yet.

Recalling the dining hall's location from yesterday, I headed down the valley.

The dining hall sat a bit apart from Qingling Peak's inner sect area. It looked like a modest wooden building from outside, but inside, disciples were already lined up.

I took a wooden tray from the line. But what sat on it made my brows furrow.

Three Bigu Pills. That was it.

I stared at the tray for a moment.

"...Is this breakfast?"

The outer disciple distributing food answered casually, as if it were nothing.

"Basic rations are Bigu Pills. Qi Condensation disciples usually make do with these."

I sat quietly and popped one into my mouth. Bitter herbal taste. Dry texture. It filled me up quickly, but the problem was the complete lack of flavor.

'No, this isn't just flavorless.'

It tasted exactly like medicine from a clinic. Good for the body maybe, but eating this every meal felt too bleak. At least convenience store bentos would be better, right?

"Eat this every day?"

As I eyed the remaining two, a pavilion across from the dining hall caught my eye. The sign read Spirit Food Pavilion.

The name alone felt different. Almost on reflex, I headed over. Savory aromas and warm broth scents assaulted my nose, and the display shelves held food that looked downright appetizing.

I glanced at the price list, mesmerized.

"...Wow."

More a sigh than admiration. The sect gave twenty spirit stones a month, but that wouldn't even cover food costs. Sure, I had mid-grade stones, but those were for cultivation, not meals.

I gave the shop one last longing look and shook my head.

'No. That's a luxury.'

Regrettable, but unavoidable. I shelved the tasty food dream. Instead, one conclusion solidified.

For cultivation.

For good meals.

Above all, to establish myself in Qingyun Sect.

I needed spirit stones.

I left the Spirit Food Pavilion and headed straight for the Affairs Hall.

The Affairs Hall buzzed with activity. Wooden plaques covered the walls, disciples milling about to pick missions suited to them—herb gathering, demon beast subjugation, patrols.

I scanned them slowly from one side.

Mostly outer disciple work, so rewards were modest. But I needed something else right now.

Then one plaque caught my eye.

I narrowed my eyes.

'This... looks promising.'

I read the details.

The five mid-grade spirit stones in my storage pouch came to mind.

'Master won't mind.'

I submitted the application. After verifying my disciple token, the steward pulled out a map. It detailed Qingling Peak's terrain—Qingling Hall at the center, spirit fields tiered below.

The steward pointed to the valley's west side.

"Low-grade fields are in this area."

Small rectangles lined up, many marked as occupied.

"Pick one of the available spots."

I pondered briefly. I didn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠know the area well, but to hide my abilities, I chose an outer one—spacious, isolated, no neighbors.

"This one."

The steward nodded.

"Spirit Field 79. Ryu Yeon-hwa."

He noted it in the ledger.

"Lease term: one year. Cost: one mid-grade spirit stone. Renew by paying again at term's end."

I took out a mid-grade spirit stone from my storage pouch. It stung a bit, but it was an investment for the future.

He inspected it and handed me a small jade plaque.

"The field has restrictions—use the plaque to open it."

I nodded and pocketed it.

'Wait.'

I'd overlooked the basics. I asked the steward,

"Senior, where do new disciples get their spirit stones?"

He glanced at me and nodded toward a side desk with a Foundation Establishment steward.

"Show your disciple token."

I handed it over. He touched it to a small bronze plate. A faint pattern glowed briefly and vanished.

"Verified."

He shook out a small pouch and tossed it to me. I caught it hastily—twenty low-grade spirit stones inside.

I stowed the pouch and left the Affairs Hall. Checking the jade plaque, I headed west along the valley's outskirts.

At first, the surroundings looked decent—tiered spirit fields, small canals, low stone walls, distant herb patches and outer disciples hauling water.

But as I walked, people thinned out. Occasional disciples vanished entirely. Neat fields gave way to weedy vacant lots. Farther from the valley, the air grew drier.

I checked the jade plaque.

"This is it."

Ahead, isolated plots dotted the outskirts, spaced sparsely—like intentionally left empty.

One stone wall bore numbers: 79.

I stopped. Words failed me for a moment.

'Bigger than on the map.'

Wider than others, with a wooden shed inside. But that was all. The soil cracked in spots, poor color.

I stepped inside instinctively. I knew immediately—this land was dying.

Not dead yet. As a spirit field, faint qi lingered. But it was chaotic, unfit for spirit herbs.

Now I understood. No one leased here. Wide plots stayed empty for a reason.

"Cheap for a reason."

Resignation laced my mutter. I'd thought isolation was perfect for hiding ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠talents. But the field's condition was the real issue. Others would pick better spots for the price.

I exhaled softly.

"...Might actually be perfect."

Trash to them could be treasure to me. I walked to the center and scooped up soil. Like a long-ill patient clinging to life.

'I can revive it.'

Not certain yet, but possible. No neighbors meant ideal for testing abilities.

I chuckled low.

"Good."

Stone spent—no regrets now. This was enough for today.

I left the field, eyed the plaque, and murmured,

"Gonna ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be busy from now on."

Back home: prep for farming—check Scripture Pavilion for Spirit Rain Technique, pick herbs to grow. Can't slack on Qing Mu Zhen Jue either.

I glanced back. The lone field suddenly looked like buried treasure.