Left without the immortal to guide them, the disciples animatedly discussed the day’s events in groups. After some time, Jun noticed a boy coughing a few times, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Why don’t we go in, settle in our rooms, and meet back here in an hour?”
Jun recognized the boy who was speaking. His name was Zhao Bin, and he had a Dual Lightning Wind Spirit Root. On closer inspection, the boy was slightly plump, with short, brown hair and well-kept clothes. His hands were smooth and his skin was clear—likely some sort of merchant’s son.
A few murmurs of acceptance gave the boy the courage to walk into the building first. The rest followed, and soon after, sighs of relief could be heard. Although the place looked rough at first glance, it was much nicer on the inside. Clean, marble floors, a grey carpet, and several landscape paintings adorned the walls in the reception area.
A few moments later, a man in his late teens walked to greet Zhao Bin and address the group. Behind him trailed a woman in a white robe, her head lowered.
“Welcome. You may call me Manager. I’ll keep things short as I’m quite busy. The servant will give you the keys to your rooms, and inside, you’ll find your robes. You may choose not to wear them, but you’ll be treated worse than those in white robes if you do,” he motioned with his arm, and the woman quickly distributed stone keys. Theirs was room 19.
“While here, you’ll be provided with a grain pill every day. If you want better food, then go look for it yourselves. Any complaints or requests go to the white-robed disciples. Usually, any news will be posted on the communication board. Whether you use it to share information amongst yourself is of no matter to me,” the man said in a bored tone, finishing his speech.
There was something off about the whole situation. If Jun had to describe the man, then everything about him would be ordinary. A nondescript face, a slightly monotone face, no real discernible features. If not for the strange scent, or rather, the absence of one, then even Jun would’ve been fooled. Everyone had a unique smell to them, cultivators even more so, boasting their unique brand of ‘purity’. The man standing before them had nothing.
‘Sneaky. Suspicious. Possibly ominous? Am I smelling an evil plot here?’ Jun thought, closely observing the Manager. After all, no one else was paying attention to him. On second thought, it wasn’t very smart to investigate someone who thought they needed to hide. If he continued, he could potentially find the Manager’s secret, and then, boom, dog stew.
‘Hmph. Just wait until I start cultivating, villain.’
Jun followed behind Chen Hao when he sensed something wrong. Cold sweat ran down his back. It felt like someone was closely observing him. He only calmed down when they went to their room and the feeling of being watched disappeared.
‘I take it all back. He’s a good guy. Saved my entire family at one point.’ Jun thought as they walked into their new home, but his ears betrayed him, laying flat against his head.
The room was nice and spacious, and, true to the Manager’s words, a grey robe was placed on the queen-sized bed. Chen Hao immediately ditched his old clothes. Taking a look in the mirror, he spun around a few times, excitedly watching how the robes poofed and flowed.
“They’re so smooth. It’s like I’m wearing a cloud,” he said, grinning to himself. It was times like these that reminded Jun that his companion was a peasant.
On a nearby table, they found a note describing how the robes had a self-cleaning and repairing function. Jun immediately tried to bite a hole in one to test it out, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t do it. There must’ve been a defensive formation on it as well.
The brat quickly decorated the room with his belongings as Jun curiously sniffed a strange, brown pill. There was only one, and it smelled of wheat and grains. Remembering how the brat had ignored him in the Scripture Pavillion, he quickly licked it up and swallowed it.
It tasted just like it looked. Weird. A few seconds passed, and Jun’s stomach finally stopped rumbling. No longer was he parched. It was a strange feeling—he wasn’t full, but neither was he hungry. The thought of succulent meat failed to move him in any way.
‘Wait. Hold on a minute.’ His mind moved at lightning speed. ‘The bastards invented a brand new way to torture disciples.’
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
For disciples who spent long periods in meditation, this pill was a godsend. They no longer had to drink water or eat any food for the entire day. Plus, they gained precious time that could rather be spent cultivating. For Jun, this was a nightmare. How could they remove the joy of food and drink from the world!? Delicious meals were one thing that kept him going daily!
He looked outside the window and howled to the sun, lamenting his cruel fate once again. Chen Hao, upon hearing this, rushed over and forcefully opened Jun’s mouth.
“Why did you do that!? Spit it out! Spit it out!” he yelled, trying to make Jun vomit out the pill that he took.
“What the? Get away from me, you bastard! It wasn’t that important!” Jun yelled in response, but something made him stop. One glance and he saw the look of genuine concern and distress on Chen Hao’s face, tears already beginning to form.
Oh. He imagined how it must have looked from Chen Hao’s perspective. His dog had swallowed a random pill and started howling in distress, crying out for help. Jun stopped resisting, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t vomit out the pill.
Chen Hao burst out of the door, running across the hallway. Jun cautiously followed, and moments later, he found the boy desperately talking to a white-robed disciple.
“I sincerely apologise for the mistake. We weren’t informed a magical beast would be staying over. I assure you, the pills are perfectly safe to eat. He was probably just startled,” she bowed, and Chen Hao let out a sigh of relief.
Seeing Jun run over, the boy softly hit him on his head.
“Don’t scare me like that. Did you have fun pretending?” Chen Hao said, and Jun innocently stuck out his tongue.
‘Oops. Silly me.”
Chen Hao received another grain pill from the servant, which he promptly ate just to see what the fuss was about. They were about to return to their room when the boy remembered about the promise to meet up, and with a few minutes to burn, the two of them toured the building until they found what was likely the ‘Communication Board.’
In the ‘Important!’ section, they found a small, crudely drawn map.
“To the north is the Hall of Formations, and to the east is the Hall of Magical Techniques. South you’ll find the Hall of Medicine, and due west is the Hall of Artifact Refining. Each of these fields requires years and years of study, so I recommend joining something that fits your talents,” a note said.
“The introductory lessons for each Hall are free for a year. If you excel enough, you may be taken as a disciple, which will guarantee your status. If the elders are in a good mood, they might help you with cultivation-related questions.”
Upon reading this, Jun planned on dragging Chen Hao to all four even if he didn’t want to. Perhaps the brat was a once-in-a-lifetime genius in medicine, or perhaps he was the reincarnation of the God of Smithing. Their life would be smooth sailing if he revealed even a fraction of his hidden talent.
To the sides were lots of different notes. Most of them were for available missions, which ranged from going out to the Moonwolf Valley and gathering Tri-Moon grass to finding someone’s missing cat who liked to harass strangers. They were all requests from a month ago. There wasn’t much that related to disciples who hadn't even managed to start cultivating.
Not all of them were as light-hearted. An old and faded note was pinned to the wall, promising to promote anyone who could kill the Heart-Ripping Tiger and bring its claws back for an elder. Underneath that, a newer note from a disciple wrote “Do not attempt this mission. Death Toll - 200. No bodies recovered. The sect does not care.”
‘This is the cultivation world after all. Wait. If it’s so dangerous, then why is the note still here?’ Jun somberly thought, shaking his head and trying not to think of the implications. Then, in a wild case of juxtaposition, he noticed another note next to it.
“Please settle all disputes in the Immortal Platform. Announce the fight a week prior so we may settle the betting amounts. Also, for anyone from the third to sixth stage, the yearly tournament is coming up soon.”
Jun decided to go look at this Immortal Platform when he had some money of his own. Now, it wasn’t like he had a gambling problem per se, but... Well, he had a few wild nights in Vegas back in the day. He was a changed dog now. As for the tournament, he wasn’t too keen on courting death. Not that anyone would let him participate.
Minutes later, they went on to meet again with the other disciples. Jun wished he had more to say about this time, but it was an hour of meaningless introductions, subtle hierarchy establishment based on spirit roots, and vague promises of helping each other in the future.
Of interest was a note slipped under his door when they returned to their rooms. Zhao Bin invited all the people with ‘dual element’ spirit roots to meet a week later. The brat treated it as a sign of friendship, but Jun sensed something deeper.
All said and done, it was only now that Chen Hao flipped open the manual regarding cultivation terms. He spent an hour pouring over all the information, memorising the various cultivation realms, nearby sects, how to deal with mortals, basic cultivator etiquette, and more. Some of it was familiar to Jun, but it didn’t hurt to sneakily read the manual along with Chen Hao.
Finally, the boy flipped over to the section called “sensing spiritual force.”