Lauren pressed her palm against the jade token and burned the information straight into her sea of consciousness with a destructive method. The token crumbled into powder in her hand.
Direct disciples were treated obscenely well. She was allotted one high-grade spirit stone per month, while the lowest-ranked outer disciples had to scrape by with only ten low-grade stones. The gap was staggering.
Ten bottles of Qi Condensation Pills, all high-grade.
By comparison, ordinary outer disciples received a single bottle of low-grade pills.
Qi Condensation Pills were refined from spiritual herbs steeped in the essence of the sun and moon. They allowed cultivators below the Nascent Soul stage to condense spiritual energy more efficiently, serving as one of the most common aids to cultivation.
The difference between grades wasn’t potency but purity. Low-grade pills were riddled with impurities, leaving behind toxins that built up in the body. High-grade pills, though far more expensive, were clean and left little residue. Any cultivator with the means avoided the low-grade ones like poison.
Lauren skimmed through the data: new inner disciples received two bottles of mid-grade pills as their starter kit. The gulf between inner and outer disciples was as wide as the heavens and earth. No wonder everyone clawed tooth and nail for a chance at the inner sect.
She tipped a pill into her hand, swallowed it, and immediately sat cross-legged to cultivate.
With pills, her absorption rate skyrocketed. She’d burn through her starter stash first. Once she built her foundation, she’d head down the mountain to gather herbs and attempt pill refinement on her own. She also needed to start brewing floral water—Flower Wife’s supply wouldn’t last forever, and she had no intention of surviving on the sect’s bland fasting pills.
For three months, she remained shut in her quarters, cultivating. Tarot came by a few times, but seeing her seclusion, he didn’t disturb her.
Until the day he felt the sudden surge of power.
She’s building her foundation? Already?
Tarot’s face darkened. She hadn’t said a word, just thrown herself into it. That was madness.
She doesn’t even have a Foundation-Building Pill. If she fails, she could cripple her entire path.
He shot through the air, rushing to her courtyard. But the moment he neared, a shimmering barrier flared to life, hurling him back.
Drake stood there, expression unreadable.
“Master—Junior Sister is forcing her foundation!” Tarot blurted.
“I know. Don’t interfere.”
“She doesn’t have a Foundation-Building Pill! If she fails—”
“It’s her choice.”
Tarot ground his teeth. “She probably doesn’t even understand. She didn’t ask me—”
Drake’s cold gaze cut him off. Tarot immediately shut his mouth.
“…I’ll go tell her fortune,” he muttered, retreating quickly.
Drake lingered a moment longer, eyes fixed on the protective barrier, then turned away. But he didn’t stop watching.
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Inside, Lauren sat in perfect stillness, her face pale with concentration. Instead of a Foundation-Building Pill, she pulled out the rare elixirs Tyler had given her months ago—Qi Condensation Pills, Training Qi Pills, and, most importantly, Spirit Gathering Pills.
The Spirit Gathering Pill was the key. Building her foundation on raw spiritual energy, without the crutch of an artificial pill, would make her core immeasurably stronger.
The pill’s power dwarfed that of ordinary Qi Condensation Pills, its effect tenfold. Spiritual energy within miles rushed toward her courtyard, condensing into a visible vortex that whipped violently around her.
Combined with the Immortal Root, her absorption rate was terrifying.
All of it was contained within the protective ward Drake had woven around her quarters. Even Tarot, who lingered outside, couldn’t sense the true scale of what was happening.
Drake, eyes closed in meditation, suddenly opened them. A rare smile curved his lips.
“Immortal Root,” he murmured. “So that’s it.”
Inside the barrier, winds howled and spiritual power surged like a storm. Outside, Starfell Summit remained cold and silent, as if nothing at all had happened.
The courtyard door creaked open just as Tarot was bracing himself for a disaster.
Lauren stepped out, calm as ever, foundation fully stabilized. She blinked at him in surprise.
“Senior Brother? Why are you standing at my door?”
Tarot froze. “…Why are you out?”
One sweep of his spiritual sense confirmed it—she’d already succeeded.
“Wait—what the hell? You actually built your foundation?”
Lauren smiled, a little smug. “Yes, Senior Brother. I was just about to tell you.”
The protective shield around her courtyard dissolved into nothing. Tarot exhaled and muttered under his breath, Master must’ve put it up to keep me from snooping.
“I’m glad you’re fine,” he said, lips quirking. “I didn’t prepare a proper gift, but—here.”
He pressed a storage pouch into her hands. Inside was a hefty pile of spirit stones.
“Go buy whatever you like.”
Lauren accepted it without fuss. “Thank you, Senior Brother.”
“You’ve been in seclusion for three months. Go collect your back pay before they forget about you.”
“Yes, Senior Brother.”
Lauren decided that if both Master and Senior Brother were this low-key, then she’d better follow their lead.
She changed into plain disciple robes, tucked away her jade token, and slipped quietly to the sect’s treasury to collect her three months’ worth of salary. From there, she went straight to the Mission Hall.
It was the first time anyone in the sect had seen her since her arrival, so no one recognized her. The elders assumed she was just another greenhorn desperate to earn a few spirit stones.
“Check the signboard,” one of the elders told her casually. “Pick something you can handle. New disciples mostly gather herbs.”
Lauren skimmed the signboard, unimpressed. Then she pulled out her own list and slid it across the counter.
“Elder, I’d like to issue these tasks.”
The elder raised a brow. “You… want to issue tasks?”
“Yes.”
Normally, only elite disciples issued private commissions—they had the spirit stones but not the time to fetch materials themselves. This girl was far too young. Was she joking?
But then he really looked at her. New face, young age… and yet there was only one possibility.
The one Immortal Drake brought back.
His expression flipped instantly.
“So it’s the Junior Grandmaster come down the mountain.”
Lauren blinked. Junior… Grandmaster?
Right. According to sect tradition, ordinary disciples ranked by cultivation level, but direct disciples followed their master’s seniority.
And her master? Drake, the oldest living monster in the cultivation world. All his peers were dust long ago.
Which meant most of the entire cultivation realm—sect masters included—were technically her juniors.
Lauren winced. So much for keeping a low profile.
“…Can I still post this?” she asked weakly.
The elder’s face practically glowed with devotion. “Of course, Ms. Lauren. I’ll take care of it personally.”
In no time, her commissions appeared on the task board.
“How many spirit stones are you offering?” the elder asked, all politeness now. He passed her a sign. “Keep this token. Once your tasks are completed, you can exchange it for the items. Don’t worry—aside from bounty missions, prices for ordinary tasks are fixed.”
Lauren scanned the board. In addition to common errands like gathering herbs, skins, and bones, there were also postings for rare elixirs, talismans, weapons, even message and delivery services.
Of course, you could choose to use your real name or anonymity, and there were various other services available.
One request caught her eye: Deliver a basket of peaches to a disciple of the Moonlit Sect.
Lauren stared at it. What the hell?
The elder chuckled at her confusion. “Young Grandmaster, our disciples travel widely. If you have friends in other sects, you can post delivery requests—letters, gifts, anything. If someone’s heading that way, they’ll usually pick it up.”
