The sun had barely risen when Li Wei made his way back to the Mission Hall. The plaza outside was already alive, disciples filing in and out like currents of a river. The faint glow of jade boards overhead shimmered with new postings, yet Li Wei's focus was not on fresh missions.
The vial of spiritgrass felt cool in his sleeve.
At the counters inside, disciples queued with bundles of herbs, beast cores, and sweat still clinging to their robes. He stepped into line, patient, until at last he reached the attendant.
"Submission?" the man asked without looking up.
Li Wei placed the vial on the counter. The attendant flicked his fingers, and a small formation flared. The spiritgrass dissolved into strands of light, absorbed into the array. Li Wei's wooden token pulsed once, faint numbers shifting across its surface.
+15 contribution
The attendant shoved the token back without comment. Li Wei bowed lightly and stepped aside, eyes falling on the etched digits glowing faintly in the grain of the wood.
The stipend granted to the top of Xianglong's tournament—five hundred points—still glowed like a bedrock beneath his balance. Fifteen from the forest mission had been added, yet beside the weight of that reward, it seemed almost laughable. The difference between being a newcomer and being acknowledged.
Behind him, voices muttered.
"Another one of those stipend brats. Comes in rich, doesn't even have to bleed for it.""Hmph. Let's see how long they last once their cushion runs dry."
Li Wei did not turn. Their envy was a truth he already understood. The stipend was not fortune—it was a foothold. Nothing more.
---
The Treasury Hall stood across the square, its doors of carved bronze etched with dragons that coiled upward into a canopy of jade light. Li Wei crossed its threshold and paused.
Rows of counters stretched in every direction, each protected by shimmering barriers of inscription. Behind them rested shelves of jade slips, chests of vials, racks of polished weapons, and scrolls bound in silk cords. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and metal, tinged with the faint sharpness of qi itself.
Disciples crowded around the barriers, pointing at treasures with hungry eyes.
Li Wei drifted toward a board where the prices shimmered in glowing characters:
Low-grade Qi Gathering Pills — 30 contribution.
Foundation Establishment Pill — 600 contribution.
Basic Sword Technique Manual — 350 contribution.
Intermediate Body Tempering Array Access (one day) — 80 contribution.
Spirit Beast Core (refined) — 450 contribution.
His gaze lingered longest on the Foundation Establishment pill. Even with his stipend, he could not buy one outright. And it would take dozens of menial missions to bridge the gap.
So this was the sect's truth. Fifteen points felt like a victory yesterday. Here, it was no more than dust against stone.
A quiet resolve settled in him. If resources were mountains, then every disciple began with nothing but their hands. His stipend gave him tools—but it was still up to him to climb.
---
By midday, Li Wei stood before another pavilion: the Spirit Convergence Pavilion.
Its walls were plain stone, but the faint silver glow of inscriptions ran through the cracks like veins. Attendants sat cross-legged at the entrance, recording tokens as disciples entered.
Li Wei placed his wooden slate into the array. His balance flared briefly: 515 → 495.
Twenty points for a single session which totaled 4 hours. His stipend made it possible without hesitation. Most others, he knew, would wait weeks or months before daring to spend so freely.
Inside, the difference struck him at once. The air was dense, shimmering with unseen threads that pressed against his skin. Each breath drew qi into his meridians like water rushing downhill.
He sat cross-legged, sword laid across his knees, and sank into cultivation.
The world outside fell away. Qi gathered around him in spiraling currents, flowing faster than any courtyard meditation could offer. His dantian pulsed with light, the refined streams of energy condensing, compressing.
Hours passed in silence.
When he opened his eyes, the light in the chamber dimmed as the inscriptions cooled. His qi pulsed fierce and steady within him, pressing at boundaries that had seemed distant days ago.
Late-stage Qi Refining—already, he could feel its peak beckoning. One more step, and Foundation Establishment loomed.
He exhaled slowly. The Pavilion's benefits were undeniable. Even a single session had pushed him closer than weeks of meditation outside. No wonder disciples fought tooth and nail for contribution—it was not greed. It was survival.
---
That evening, the newcomer compound stirred with its usual rhythms.
Liang Fei returned grinning, his arms bruised and bloody. "Brother sword! Took a hunting mission—Ironhide wolves, the kind with jaws like steel. Damn near bit my arm off, but look!" He held up his token proudly. "Sixty points! Enough to buy myself a night in the Pavilion, eh?"
Li Wei inclined his head with a faint smile. For Liang Fei, brawling through beasts was joy as much as progress.
Xu Feng was absent. Word in the compound was that he had already won two more duels, climbing the stele's ranks with crimson qi flashing like fire.
Jian Tao sat alone, practicing his breathing technique beneath the lantern light. His princely calm was cracked faintly by frustration, though he wore it like armor.
Shen Mu came and went quietly, his token glowing faintly from minor errands. Always calculating, always conserving.
Mei Yun, as always, was steady. She sat beside Li Wei in the courtyard, her voice quiet. "You used the Pavilion today."
Li Wei nodded.
"Already, your aura feels heavier. Stronger."
"I made some progress," he said evenly, offering no more.
She studied him for a long moment, then smiled faintly. "Then it seems you're already walking ahead of us."
He did not answer, though within his chest he felt the truth stir. His stipend had given him a step, but his talent ensured he would keep moving forward. And with every day, the gap between him and the others would widen.