Chapter 17 ( On a mission )

  The next day, Adam quietly retrieved his storage ring.

  He turned it over in his hand, his gaze indifferent.

  "I didn’t forget it," he thought, sliding it onto his finger. "They just didn’t give it to me before. And now, they’re pretending it was always mine."

  He gave a soft snort and muttered under his breath,

  “They weren’t lying when they said they’d monitor me in the sect.”

  Without much reaction, Adam made his way through the quieter parts of the sect, eventually reaching a secluded courtyard where Bo Jin waited.

  There was no one else around — just as they had agreed.

  Bo Jin greeted him with a lazy wave. In his other hand, he casually flipped a small pouch — the one containing Adam’s light crystals.

  Adam said nothing, simply holding out his hand.

  Bo Jin chuckled and tossed it over.

  Adam caught it without ceremony, checking the contents briefly before sliding it into his new storage ring.

  After a brief silence, Adam broke it.

  “When is the entrance exam ending?”

  Bo Jin leaned against a worn stone pillar.

  “It’s going to take two more days,” he answered.

  Adam nodded slightly, his face unreadable.

  He waited a beat before speaking again.

  “The test. Was it focused on survival and combat?”

  Bo Jin shrugged.

  “Yeah, but not exactly. They throw the participants into a beast-infested wilderness. They’re supposed to survive, fight their way through, and reach a designated point. Along the way, there are optional challenges — like ruins with hidden treasures and resources. After that, the qualified ones get tested again in the arena, to see their actual combat prowess.”

  He grinned.

  “The Grand Elder gave you a direct recommendation because he figured you already proved yourself. Guess killing that mantis counted.”

  Adam didn’t respond to the grin.

  Instead, he folded his arms, eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

  After a moment, he asked,

  “Do you know any place that sells Metal Qi crystals?”

  Bo Jin blinked.

  “…Are your other element Metal?”

  He chuckled lightly, scratching the back of his head.

  “I already knew Light was one of your elements after you healed Zhou Ren. So after the aptitude test… it came out that you’ve got Light and Metal, huh?”

  Adam gave a noncommittal grunt, neither confirming nor denying it.

  Bo Jin shook his head lightly and said,

  “Two uncommon elements. You’re really going to have a hard time cultivating them.”

  Adam’s voice was flat.

  “I know. I know.”

  Bo Jin continued, glancing at the pouch of crystals Adam now held.

  “But first, you should wait for me to sell your spirit crystals. You’ll need the money to buy crystals attuned to Metal Qi. They don’t cost as much as Light element crystals, but they’re definitely more expensive than the common elements.”

  He smirked.

  “Or, if you’re impatient, you can go to the sect’s mission hall. Take on a few missions, earn some extra spirit stones.”

  Adam simply responded, his tone unchanged,

  “I’ll do just that.”

  After parting ways with Bo Jin, Adam made his way toward the sect’s mission hall.

  The building wasn’t particularly grand—just a long rectangular structure with simple tiled roofs and a large wooden sign hanging above the entrance. A steady stream of disciples moved in and out, some looking excited, others frustrated, and a few downright exhausted.

  Adam stepped inside.

  The air was filled with low chatter and the faint scent of ink and paper. Along the walls, a massive mission board was nailed up, plastered with dozens, maybe hundreds, of scrolls and notices. Some bore the seal of the sect, others were clearly posted by individual disciples, and a few had rougher, simpler handwriting—probably villagers or townspeople seeking help.

  Adam’s gaze swept across the board, methodical, emotionless. He wasn't in a rush.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Hunting minor beasts… Escort missions… Herb gathering… Treasure seeking…

  All kinds of tasks, with varying rewards.

  After a few minutes of scanning, Adam found a mission that suited him — gathering rare spirit herbs from the outskirts of a nearby spirit forest. Moderate danger, decent pay.

  Without hesitating, he walked over to the counter where a young male disciple was stationed, managing the records.

  Adam stopped in front of him and said simply,

  “I want to take this mission.”

  He handed over the scroll he had plucked from the board.

  The disciple behind the counter gave him a quick once-over, nodded without much reaction, and stamped the scroll with an official red seal.

  “Mission registered. You have three days to complete it and report back.”

  Adam gave a faint nod and turned to leave, not wasting another word.

  After registering the mission, Adam made his way to the sect’s entrance.

  Two guards stood lazily at their posts, half-bored, half-alert. When Adam approached, one of them stepped forward.

  “Mission scroll,” the guard said curtly.

  Adam handed it over without a word. The guard scanned the seal and nodded slightly.

  “Standard procedure,” he grunted, pulling out a thick, worn ledger from a nearby table. “Write your name here.”

  He handed Adam a thin ink brush, its bristles still damp from previous use.

  As Adam’s fingers brushed against the guards finger, his eyes flickered subtly.

  Without even drawing attention to himself, he activated his memory manipulation ability, sinking into the guard’s mind like a whisper.

  In an instant, fragmented memories flooded him — a map of the region under the sect’s jurisdiction, landmarks, patrol schedules, even hidden paths rarely used by the main disciples, even his martial art that these cultivators use or “fight styles” as they call it.

  But something else caught Adam’s notice:

  A nasty little habit among the entrance guards — they often took bribes to leak mission information to other disciples, especially when personal grudges were involved.

  Adam’s expression didn’t change.

  He could have acted on it, but chose not to.

  For now, they had their uses.

  He silently signed his name with the brush.

  The guard, oblivious to what had just happened, retrieved the ledger and said in a mechanical tone,

  “Remember: you have one month to report back. If you fail to return or send word of extenuating circumstances, you’ll be considered dead, and your possessions will be forfeit.”

  Adam gave a slight nod. No words wasted.

  With everything in order, he walked past the gate, heading out into the wilderness to begin his herb gathering mission.

  After Adam disappeared beyond the sect’s outer gate, the guard scratched his head and turned to his partner, who had been leaning casually against the wall.

  "New kid?" the second guard asked, smirking.

  The first guard shrugged. "Yeah. Quiet type. Looks like he won't last long outside."

  "Another arrogant idiot thinking the sect will protect him everywhere," the second one chuckled. "Easy pickings."

  Before they could continue their idle conversation, a voice interrupted them.

  "Good work, brothers."

  The guards immediately straightened up.

  A young man walked toward them, dressed in elegant disciple robes, his black hair tied neatly, a calm, polished smile on his face. Kai Yun.

  He flicked a small jade token in his hand casually as he approached.

  "I heard," Kai Yun said lightly, "that a lone disciple just took a mission out of the sect."

  The two guards exchanged a glance. They knew better than to answer immediately.

  Kai Yun chuckled, tossing a small pouch of spirit stones into the first guard’s hand.

  "Relax. I'm not trying to cause trouble. Just... concerned about a fellow sect member. You know how dangerous it is out there alone."

  The pouch was heavier than usual. Enough for them to overlook a few rules.

  The first guard grinned slightly and tucked the pouch into his robe.

  "He just left to gather spirit herbs. Mission location’s east side — around Green Willow Basin."

  Kai Yun’s smile deepened.

  "Much appreciated," he said, nodding politely before turning away, his expression unreadable.

  As he walked off, the second guard muttered under his breath, "Concerned about fellow disciples, huh?"

  The first guard snorted. "Yeah right. That kid’s about to have a real bad day."

  They both laughed quietly, returning to their posts as if nothing had happened.

  Adam moved steadily along the dirt path, the towering trees casting long shadows across his figure. His face remained indifferent, footsteps light but firm.

  He silently calculated the route in his mind, recalling the detailed map he'd extracted from the guard’s memory earlier.

  From the sect to Green Willow Basin… six hours at my current pace.

  His eyes narrowed slightly.

  There's a town halfway. Cutting through it would be faster—and I can resupply if necessary.

  He adjusted his course without hesitation, taking a small, less-traveled trail that branched off toward the town. His movements were smooth, natural, without the slightest hesitation—as if he'd known the way all along.

  Not once did he pull out a map or compass. He didn’t need to.

  The memory he had copied was more than enough.

  Adam continued forward, the surrounding forest beginning to thicken as the sect’s influence weakened behind him.

  As Adam followed the worn trail, the thick forest slowly gave way to signs of civilization. In the distance, he spotted tall gray walls—sturdy concrete reinforced with faintly glowing runes etched across their surface.

  The walls weren’t ancient stone or wood like typical frontier towns. They were modern, built using Qi-infused construction techniques, giving them a faint spiritual pressure that kept weaker beasts at bay.

  Near the main gate, a modest line had formed. Merchants with carts laden with goods, wandering cultivators, and a few mortal villagers stood patiently, waiting for the guards to inspect them.

  Adam quietly joined the end of the line, standing with the same blank calmness he always wore. His plain sect robes fluttered slightly in the breeze.

  As the line moved forward, a pair of guards stationed at the entrance glanced up. Both were dressed in reinforced light armor, powered subtly by Qi batteries embedded into the fabric. One of them lazily looked over the people approaching.

  When their eyes landed on Adam, their posture shifted slightly. They exchanged a glance—recognizing the Grand Harmony Sect insignia on his robe.

  The guard standing on the left gave a small nod and gestured him forward.

  “No need for inspection, honored disciple,” he said with a practiced politeness. “Please, enter freely.”

  Adam didn’t react beyond the slightest tilt of his head. Without breaking stride, he stepped past the gate, ignoring the curious looks from the commoners still waiting to be checked.

  Inside, the town bustled with life. Concrete roads stretched in orderly grids, clean and even. Spirit lamplights powered by low-grade Qi stones lined the streets, casting a steady white glow. Small shops and restaurants displayed colorful banners fluttering lightly under the flow of spiritual energy circulating through the air.

  Adam’s eyes scanned the town briefly, committing key landmarks to memory—the herb shop, the general supply store, the small auction house—all neatly arranged around the central square.

  Without pause, he set off toward the general supply store. His steps remained steady, silent, like a shadow blending into the organized chaos of the town.

  Adam moved through the streets with quiet efficiency, his presence barely noticeable among the crowd.

  He made his way toward a general supply shop, a modest storefront with an old wooden sign hanging above it, reading “Misty Spring Provisions.”

  Inside, shelves lined with travel goods stretched in neat rows—spirit-dried rations, Qi-treated waterskins, basic alchemy kits, and survival tools crafted to endure the wilderness.

  Adam picked up a simple pack of rations, enough to last several days, and two reinforced waterskins that had been treated with preservation arrays.

  He placed the items on the counter without a word.

  The shopkeeper, a middle-aged man with a thin beard, glanced at Adam’s robes, quickly rang up the price, and handed over a small slip for payment.

  Adam transferred the required silver coins calmly, collected his supplies, and turned to leave.

  As he stepped outside, a subtle shift in the air brushed against his senses.

  His gaze remained forward, but inwardly, Adam sharpened his perception.

  A faint feeling—almost nothing, like the weight of a single grain of dust—settled behind him. Someone was watching. Someone trying very hard not to be noticed.

  Adam didn't react. No tensing of shoulders. No flick of his head.

  Instead, he adjusted the strap of his pack and continued walking down the main street, blending once again into the crowd.

  He was already formulating a plan, depending on how persistent his shadow turned out to be.

  But just as he turned a corner, something else caught his attention.

  In the distance, near the steps of a small, elegant tea house, a familiar figure stood.

  Shen Xinyi.

  She was dressed in light traveling clothes, her long dark hair tied back casually.

  For a moment, she seemed unaware of him—looking around, perhaps waiting for someone.

  Adam approached silently until he was within speaking distance.

  She noticed him then, her face lighting up with a smile of recognition.

  "Adam? What are you doing here? I thought the entrance exam wasn’t over yet."

  Adam's expression remained neutral, his voice steady.

  “Circumstances.”

  Shen Xinyi blinked, then laughed lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Well, since you’re already here,” she said brightly, “do you want to grab a meal? I was just about to find somewhere to eat.”

  Adam looked at her for a second, his face unreadable. Then he gave a small shrug.

  “Why not.”

  Shen Xinyi grinned, leading the wa

  y toward a small restaurant nearby, its colorful awning flapping softly in the Qi-enhanced breeze.

  Adam followed, his figure blending into the crowd once more—yet behind him, somewhere deep in the moving masses, the hidden gaze remained.

  Watching.

  Waiting.