Zhao Mi forcefully stopped himself from wincing again as he sloughed through the mud into the Outer Disciples’ residence.

His heart was bleeding at the impending loss of half a year’s salary to the abusive cultivation of the main character he’d left unsupervised in his cave.

Zhao sighed and shook his head as he sidestepped a puddle carefully to keep the sludge off his deep blue robes, reminding himself to view the loss of resources as an investment.

Around him some disciples lazed in the morning sun while others cleared debris that the previous night’s storm had littered around their homes.

None of them were cultivating at this early hour, which was unsurprising given how the sect treated its Outer Disciples. They would need their energy for the day ahead.

Each of them would have menial tasks to attend to throughout the day, consuming the majority of their time.

In return for their services, the sect would grant them a stipend of spirit stones to further their cultivation.

For Outer Disciples, the default amount was seven spirit stones a month. Every single one of them would be trying their damndest to break into the ranks of the Inner Sect, where the allowance was double that.

If fortunate enough, disciples could also assume a titled position in the sect that would grant further benefits.

Zhao knew the value of such a position all too well as an Assistant Admissions Disciple.

While private lodging and an extra five spirit stones a month were nice, it was the other perks that were ripe for misuse.

Of relevance to his ongoing plan was the fact that Zhao could employ, at sect expense, a servant and an errand boy.

The former could not be another disciple, so mortals clamored to be chosen for the position. Few ever broke out of their station to rise further in the sect.

Although the salary for the two jobs were pitiful, the pay could be the difference between an average life and one of misery for most individuals.

While most officials basically auctioned off the roles to the highest bidder, Zhao was going to use them to snap up two important characters.

His interaction with Che Fang had gone awry but inexplicably ended better than Zhao could have imagined.

He had been expecting resistance from a former young master to the idea of taking on the duty of a servant, only for said cultivator to swear himself to the post without solicitation.

Refusing to dwell on the absurdity of the previous night’s events, Zhao focused on the task at hand.

To secure the prodigy Gu Hong would probably be more challenging since there was no pre-existing relationship to expand upon.

Then again, as he wove through the stone huts that served as housing for the Outer Disciples, Zhao thought most people would probably accept the first offer that extricated them from the stark locale.

While each shelter had a fireplace and sturdy construction, making them better than a mortal’s wooden shack, they were unadorned.

Glancing inside proved that the majority of people seemed to sleep on the dirt floors rather than squander their wealth on comforts.

Stepping over another rut in the dirt trail that ran between the housing, Zhao found himself passing by the senior disciple in charge of watching over the Outer Disciples.

The idiot was passed out under his own robe snoring, an empty bottle clutched weakly. The distinct reek of baijiu clouded the surroundings.

Inside the slightly larger building that served as the senior disciple’s posting, a couple of older female disciples lounged languidly. Shaking his head, Zhao moved on.

He condemned the women’s actions, even if he followed the logic behind them.

In Jianghu there was a chance at immortality, which humans could use to justify anything done in its pursuit. None stopped to ask how their decisions shaped them; that was why those that survived ended up eccentric monsters.

Having only gotten a couple hours of sleep, the slight annoyances piling up had an exaggerated effect on Zhao.

A frown grew from ruminating over the degenerate behavior, his already low mood dropping further.

It plummeted afresh when he rounded a corner to find his destination besieged by a band of outer disciples shouting obscenities through an immobile door.

In their Outer Disciple robes, a darker space blue than Zhao’s own, they looked almost like a gang sporting their colors proudly.

While Zhao usually preferred a diplomatic approach, he couldn’t find the tolerance within himself this morning.

Exhibiting the habitual indifference of more powerful cultivators, Zhao unleashed his cultivation base to quash the disorder.

Quietly, Zhao ordered the hooligans away. “Move.”

An arrogant swish of his robes had the fools falling over themselves to get out of Zhao’s way in a stream of apologies.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Without bothering to explain himself, Zhao Mi rapped on the barred door impatiently. “Gu Hong,” he announced, “your presence is required by an Assistant Disciple.”

The declaration caused cruel looks to bloom on the faces of the delinquents still scattered around the area. Zhao sent them a nasty glare accompanied by a spike in the presence he was emanating to send them running.

Though the tournament was months away, Zhao felt he did not have time for games and was moments away from breaking through the door when it opened slowly.

“…May I ask who requires my presence?” an adolescent with messy hair and fearful eyes mumbled, his gaze darting around as if Zhao displaying his cultivation and authority were merely a ploy to smoke him out.

“Me,” Zhao said simply. Adding, “I suggest you follow,” as he motioned to the respectfully distanced hostile disciples, “unless you would prefer to finish whatever this is.”

Thankfully, Gu Hong was quick enough to realize that Zhao was offering him an escape and emerged a moment later after grabbing a bag which, Zhao realized, probably contained his life possessions.

As they walked away Gu Hong sighed, sparing a glance behind them as the disciples they left behind moved towards his vacant dwelling.

“I don’t suppose you’ll bring me back and kick them out of my place?” the boy asked morosely.

Zhao, realizing that the boy had just lost claim to his home, shook his head with a loosened expression.

“This world is governed by the law of the jungle,” he quoted. “The strong do what they will and the weak suffer what they must.”

Gu Hong seemed to want to protest the classic wisdom but instead nodded politely. When Zhao realized the younger disciple was tearing up, he stiffened.

“Listen,” he counseled more gently, “everyone has hurdles to overcome. I’m sure in a few years you could choose to return and take vengeance on those who wronged you.”

Any other cultivator’s advice would likely have stopped there, if they had even deigned to address Gu Hong’s emotions.

In a differentiating moment, Zhao carefully interjected his own beliefs into the standard xianxia approach. “Or you could forgive them. An eye for an eye leaves the world blind. There’s an aphorism for every viewpoint.”

Perking up at Zhao’s nontraditional words, Gu Hong’s expression lightened.

The pair made the rest of the walk to Zhao’s cave in silence, his charge increasingly timid as they made their way out of the forested Outer Disciples’ area and dirt trails into the cobbled paths and well-maintained community for Sect Officials.

Upon closing the door to his home, Zhao breathed in the concentrated ambient Qi with satisfaction as Gu Hong began to shake, squeaking out a query, “S-senior brother you never told me what you need me for. P-please don’t- um…”

Knitting his eyebrows at the statement, Zhao tilted his head. “Don’t what?” he asked curiously.

Gu Hong paled and shifted nervously. “I’ve heard the s-stories from some of the other boys and I… I don’t…”

Zhao regarded him with a raised eyebrow for a moment before Che Fang walked out the office attached to the main cave. “He thinks you’re going to rape him like those pervert Elders and their servant boys,” he informed Zhao.

The declaration shut his mind down as it processed the accusation.

Rubbing his temples in frustration at the sick disclosure, the various manipulations Zhao had played in his head fell away with a tired sigh.

At the edge of his consciousness, memories of battered faces beseeching him for help threatened to overwhelm his composure.

“Look,” Zhao said, leaning back and placing the back of his head against the wall while closing his eyes. “I’m not going to… do that.”

“I’ve thought of a thousand ways to try and influence the two of you into helping me,” he confessed, “but in the end, I’m going to go with the truth.”

Opening his eyes, Zhao found both of his recruits watching him with interest.

“I got into a fight with Li Tingfey and embarrassed the Li Clan,'' he revealed. Restlessly, Zhao further explained, “As a result, I am to face him in the upcoming tournament and am woefully unprepared.”

Interest had turned to confusion, the question of what either of the two before him could offer plain of their faces.

Taking a deep breath, Zhao pressed forward, “As an Assistant Admissions Disciple I processed paperwork for each of you, and I believe that both of you are… special. If you help me, I’ll help you.”

Che Fang was the first to understand. “So you’re gambling on us?” he deduced.

Rubbing his gaunt jaw the emaciated cultivator spoke, “I don’t understand how I can help, but you already know my answer. However…”

Che Fang licked his lips, “taking me in makes an enemy of the Che clan too.” Feeling the lack of sleep get to him, Zhao let loose a disturbed laugh at that revelation.

“Either I’m right and that doesn’t matter, or I’m wrong. In which case I’ll have two clans conspire to kill me instead of one,” Zhao said bitterly. Having secured Che Fang’s cooperation, he turned to the 13 year old.

“And you?” he prompted.

The little disciple caressed his chin in thought, indecision playing out on his face. “If… if you provide food and shelter away from the Outer Disciples’ housing, I’ll help too!” the boy decided, the implications of making an enemy out of the two clans not registering to him.

Zhao nodded, already having intended to provide each.

“Good. As a Sect Official, I am entitled to a servant and an errand boy-” he indicated Che Fang and Gu Hong in turn, “-which will provide each of you the status to remain in my residence. Acceptable?” The two nodded, though Che Fang looked pained, bringing Zhao great relief.

“I’ll make a trip to pick up robes and identification medallions for each of you while you prepare lunch,” Zhao said while indicating the carved holes in the wall of the cave that constituted kitchen storage space.

“I presume the two of you know how to start a fire and cook?” he said offhandedly as he made to exit.

Gu Hong looked unsure, but Che Fang nodded and pushed the newly hired errand boy towards the stack of wood that rested by the door with the instruction to, “Bring that over here.”

Zhao stepped out to leave but was stopped by his new ‘servant’ while Gu Hong shuttled wood.

“Thank you for the spirit stones,” Che Fang said bowing. “I’ve already broken back into the third stage.”

Eye twitching from the ridiculousness of his progress, Zhao patted Che Fang on the back. “The first of many breakthroughs!” he declared before he could calculate exactly how many of his hard earned spirit stones had been burnt for such an achievement.

Without further conversation Zhao exited his cave, pausing briefly as he locked his door before continuing.

A foreign Qi signature lingered nearby, intentionally hidden from the senses of low powered Qi Condensation cultivators.

Transmigration, however, had amongst its benefits the fact that the strength of Zhao’s divine sense was the sum of his former and current lives. For him that meant his observational skills were roughly twice what they would have been naturally.

He didn’t linger on the spy, instead acting as if everything was normal, but as Zhao walked away he wondered whether he was being watched by the Li Clan, had caught someone sent to watch Che Fang, or if his entanglement with main characters was already drawing in unknown forces.

Regardless, the hidden agent stoked the embers of fear in Zhao Mi’s heart.