The First Mission
Back in my room, I began by spreading open the Yuehai Yutu Lu I had borrowed from the library.
It was a picture book preserving the legends of the Jade Rabbit, its contents setting down in writing three tales that had been passed down by word of mouth.
The first of the three told how the rabbit had come to be an immortal beast.
Long, long ago, three animals lived together in a sacred forest. One day, a shabbily dressed old man came wandering in — in truth, an immortal concealing his identity.
The old man resolved to test their compassion by begging each of the animals for food. The fox caught a fish and brought it back; the monkey gathered fruit; but the rabbit alone could find nothing at all. And so the rabbit cast itself into the fire, meaning to offer its own body to the old man.
Only then did the old man reveal his true form. Moved by the rabbit's heart of self-sacrifice, he bore it up to the moon and took it as his handmaiden.
The next was the second tale, which explained how the rabbit had come by its name.
One day, the immortal declared that he would choose twelve attendants from among those who followed him, and he set all beneath him to a footrace. The rabbit made the most of its swift legs and ran toward the destination without a moment's rest — but along the way there stood a vast lake known as the Sea of the Moon.
Unable to swim, the rabbit wavered, yet in the end it had no choice but to strike out across the water. As it cleaved through the current, its fur turned, before it knew it, white and translucent, as though soaked in moonlight.
When the rabbit reached the destination, three runners already stood ahead of it. Late as the crossing had made it, it still claimed one of the twelve places.
As it turned out, the Sea of the Moon the rabbit had faced was itself a trial laid down by the immortal, and the others, too, had each arrived by overcoming a trial of their own.
The immortal bestowed a name upon each of the twelve retainers who had conquered their trials — and the rabbit, on account of its whitened fur, received the name Yutu, the Jade Rabbit.
The third tale told of the role Yutu came to take up beneath the immortal.
The immortal divided among his twelve retainers the duties he had once carried alone.
To the rabbit he entrusted the crafting of precious medicines. The rice cakes the rabbit pounded tasted the finest of all, and so he trusted its deft hands — and he knew, too, that with its loyal and timid nature, it would never lay a careless hand upon the medicinal ingredients.
Just as the immortal had foreseen, the rabbit faithfully took up its charge and produced medicines of fine quality to offer up to him.
The writing itself was nothing remarkable — the pages were crammed with illustrations instead, giving it more the feel of a children's storybook. If there was anything I could glean at all, it was only that the rabbit was skilled at handling medicine and had some connection to the moon.
For now I stored the book away in the bookshelf, and next opened the one inscribed Yuexia Meiren.
The pages were as blank as ever, without a single word written on them. I tried channeling spiritual power into it, and I tried holding it up to the light, but nothing revealed itself.
Just what had the old man of the library intended, giving me this? Out of options for the moment, I tucked it back into the bookshelf.
After that, I turned to the jade slip Cheongryu had given me, which held the Foundation Establishment cultivation of the Jade Yin Ice Seal.
To sum up what it taught: cultivation at the Foundation Establishment stage meant refining Essence, Qi, and Spirit, and the method was to open and train the lower, middle, and upper dantians. The first of the three, the lower dantian, was already open within me — so the work of early Foundation Establishment lay in reinforcing it and laying the groundwork for the opening of the middle dantian.
Next, I examined the jade slip containing the spells.
"Ohh!"
Reading through the spells of the Jade Yin Ice Seal set my heart pounding. The slip recorded spell after spell — ice spears, bindings, barriers, and more — and just imagining myself casting them sent a thrill through me, as if I'd become a mage straight out of a fantasy novel.
I read through every one of them meticulously, carving each into my mind.
A month later, once I had made the combat spells my own, Cheongryu told me to take a mission and go out beyond the sect.
At the sect's Mission Hall, one could browse the posted missions and choose among them. Anticipation bubbling in my chest, I boarded the little boat-shaped flying dharma tool Cheongryu had given me.
Arriving at the Mission Hall, I found myself face to face with a face I had sorely missed.
"Grandma!"
"Well, look who it is... Why, Jihwa, is that you, child!"
It was my great-grandmother, who worked as a deacon in the Mission Hall. She looked thinner and more gaunt than before, her vitality so withered that anyone could see how little of her life remained. Fortunately, the hall was all but empty, and I could speak with her at my ease.
"How has the family been?"
"Mm... truth be told, they've all scattered to the four winds. My own years are nearly spent too, you see, so I moved the household away to prepare for it."
When I asked after my family, I learned that in preparation for the end drawing near, Grandmother had dispersed them across every corner of Zheng Country to live out their days as mortals. It stung that I couldn't see them right away — but so long as I learned where they were, surely we would meet again one day.
"And it seems you've come to take on a mission, hmm?"
Grandmother led me to the board where the missions were posted. It stood tall enough to stack ten men, and twice as wide, its surface papered over edge to edge with notices.
"You need only pick whichever one takes your fancy. Those at Foundation Establishment owe the sect ten merit points a year, so bear that in mind as you choose."
From her explanation, every mission carried merit points to be earned, and those points had to be paid if one wished to keep one's standing as a disciple. With that in mind, I drifted along the board on my flying tool, reading through the posted missions.
About the time it takes to finish a meal later, I had found a handful that appealed to me, and from among them I chose the one Grandmother recommended.
"Right — there's nothing better than guarding the Spiritual Herb Plantation. The plantation sits within Mount Gyuoh, and the task is to protect it, along with the mortals and low-rank cultivators who work there, from calamity beasts and demonic beasts, then gather the spiritual herbs each year and send them on to the sect. The merit is stingy, mind you, but you'll have plenty of time to train — and if a superior-grade herb ever comes along, you'll have the chance to pay the points and buy it before anyone else."
It sounded excellent as she laid it out. The only catch, when I checked, was that the mission paid a mere twelve merit points a year — which was, apparently, why it still sat untouched on the board.
I chose to see it as an opportunity. My experience itself was still lacking, after all — I could practice my spells and build my skill through training there, and head out beyond the sect later, once I was ready. And besides, I was only thirteen; time was the one thing I had in plenty. I accepted the mission on the spot.
After bidding Grandmother farewell, I went to tell Cheongryu that I had taken a mission.
"Guarding the Spiritual Herb Plantation? Not bad at all. Well then, that means your quarters will sit empty for quite some time. It's close by, though — I'll be able to see you often enough."
"Yes, Master. That's why I've come to say my farewells."
"First things first — take these."
She handed me a bundle of flags. Hair-raising demonic figures were painted across them, and a bleak, baleful aura wafted from the cloth.
"Those are formation flags. Plant them around your abode and the formation will stir to life. You'll be digging in and dwelling out there for some years, so keep them safe."
I gave my thanks and gathered up the flag-shaped dharma tool.
"And this is a talisman treasure — a talisman holding the power of my natal dharma treasure. It can be used only three times, so don't go spending it on trifles. Keep it for one thing and one thing only: saving your life."
Cheongryu passed me a talisman as well. A ferociously strong ghostly qi ran through it — unmistakably no ordinary item.
With that, I parted from Cheongryu and set out for the mission site.
The herb plantation lay at the easternmost edge of Mount Gyuoh, where the Okeum Sect was seated. Mortals lived clustered there much as they had in the place where I'd spent my earliest years, and every one of them looked hale and content — life in this place, it seemed, was far from harsh.
"Aigoo! Senior, you've come!"
I had been flying, gazing down at the ground below, when a cultivator came hurrying up from the earth to greet me. Judging by the qi I sensed from him, he looked to be around the middle stage of Qi Condensation.
"This humble junior is called Yeon Gae, an outer disciple of the Okeum Sect. Please, Senior, treat me however is comfortable for you."
Bowing and scraping, the man rubbed his hands together as though to curry my favor — and with the wispy goatee jutting from his chin and his eyes turned up at the corners, he had the sly, rat-faced look of a born schemer.
"My name is Seol Jihwa. I look forward to working with you."
"Aigoo, please, lower your speech, I beg of you!"
He looked to have some years on him, though, so I had opened with polite speech — and the man had recoiled in alarm, flapping his hands in refusal. Pride seemed a thing he'd never heard of; there he was, bowing so low before me, a girl of thirteen, that his back looked fit to snap.
"Then I shall. So, Cultivator Yeon — what exactly am I meant to do?"
"There's hardly anything you need to do, Senior. Just make a patrol now and then and check whether anything like a demonic beast is lurking about the area. I'll see to the rest myself."
Something about his face kept me from fully trusting him — but if he'd shoulder the tedious work himself, I could hardly complain, so I nodded along for the time being.
And so, having set my abode nearby, I fell into the daily rhythm of training and patrol.
Thus three years passed.