Chapter42

Hoten stood in the contribution points store, contemplating his next purchase with a grin. He’d barely had to work at all since he’d arrived at the Whispering Guides Sect, and he had just reached the first stage of the Liminal Realm, according to the way that his present sect figured things. He’d gone through six clear stages, having left the initiate’s realm behind just weeks ago.

The way the Shen’s figured things, he was still in the initiate’s realm. But then the Shens figured a lot of things differently than the outside world.

Several weapons were on display, but Hoten had already purchased a sword and he saw no need to replace it yet, even with a superior weapon. If he did encounter a superior weapon in his wanderings outside the sect, he would probably sell it for points, as he had the stones which he’d failed to claim the spirits from.

He should have known that the old Shen bastard was handing out duds, he thought to himself. But the stones had been evaluated by the contribution store master and determined to be worth fifty points each, which was enough to live comfortably for five years and still take a Lofty Wind Qi Pill once a week.

He couldn’t take more than one a week because the toxins would build up and poison him. And the pills turned his piss green, so there was that to consider. But he’d made steady progress while taking them, so after he’d gone through the first six that he’d bought he’d bought a few dozen of them.

He wondered what sort of pills the Shens made, and then he mentally kicked himself. Being sent to the Whispering Guides was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he was way better off in the hands of a group of masters who prided themselves on raising capable cultivators than a … Hoten didn’t know how to classify the Shens, to be honest.

They were hidden masters, but he had no idea why they weren’t living it up in the capital or one of the many cities where cultivators were catered to and treated like kings. He had seen Tren Shen and his wife participating in group harvests for his entire childhood and not had a clue that they were cultivators until Tan had shown up in the village and bragged about becoming ‘a cultivator just like daddy.’

Why on earth would someone toil in the mud like a commoner when they didn’t have to?

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Hoten shrugged and shook his head, forcing himself to stop thinking about the Shens. He focused on the list that had just been updated, then frowned.

The price for the Lofty Wind pills had tripled since the last time he’d bought them.

“Hey, Master Poh,” Hoten said, getting the attention of the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper looked up from the scroll that he’d been reading. The side facing the customer proclaimed it a scroll of insights, but Hoten knew that the other side was filled with lascivious drawings. “Oh, if it isn’t the great and powerful Red Rooster. What is it that this humble shopkeeper can help you with today?”

“What’s up with these pills?” Hoten asked, pointing at the listed item. “They’re not worth that much, are they? I bought them for a fraction of the price last year.”

“Yes, you did,” the shopkeeper said. “And after you started making steady progress with them six of our other air cultivators bought some to try as well. We were out of stock for a few weeks as our pill master waited for the ingredients to come in from the hunters. He made a good batch, but with the increased demand and the low supply, we had to increase the price.”

Hoten cursed, but he understood. He was the son of a merchant, and it was only natural that economics would affect even a powerful sect like the Whispering Guides. “Is there any way that I could convince you to sell them to me at the old price?” he asked, turning up the charm and raising his hands in supplication.

“Sorry, but no. Perhaps you should talk to the pill-master directly. He might be willing to trade materials for pills rather than contribution points, if that’s an easier way to get what you need.”

Hoten sighed. “Thanks for the advice, old man. I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

The old man grinned and opened the scroll as Hoten left the store. Hoten bumped into someone on the way out and shouted “Hey, watch it,” before looking to see who it was.

He wished that he could have taken the words back, because the fire cultivator glared at him and thrust a fist into his balls for the trouble. It was an easy target for her, as she was only eleven years old.

He gasped and crumbled into the fetal position. The fire cultivator ignored him completely as she stepped over him and into the contribution points store. He moaned pitifully for a moment before gathering himself and flying off.

He shuttered and was thankful that a nut-punch was all that he’d gotten out of the encounter. That scary little girl was in the first stage of the spiritual realm! She could have burned him into a cinder if she’d wanted to.

Of course, she’d have been kicked out of the sect, but still. She could have done it.

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