Hours passed in silence, broken only by the distant chirping of crickets and insects.
Jin lay sprawled in the middle of his dwelling, his body bruised from head to toe, completely unconscious.
Minutes turned into hours, and when the sun finally rose, its light slipped through the window and brushed his face.
Slowly—and painfully—he opened his eyes. He tried to get up, but a sharp, tearing pain shot through him, refusing to let his muscles move.
"What the hell happened…?"
With great effort, he managed to sit up, leaning his back against the side of the bed.
"Right… I was practicing that body technique and passed out from the pain…"
Frowning, Jin cursed the person who created the technique.
"Do they want us to train our bodies… or kill ourselves?"
He couldn't move a single muscle properly. When he tried circulating his Qi, a stabbing sensation followed its flow—painful, yes, but still barely tolerable.
More importantly, with each slow cycle, Jin could feel the pain dulling ever so slightly.
A few minutes later, he managed to calm it enough to move. With difficulty, he stood up.
Staggering, he walked toward the small water spring inside his dwelling.
The faint sound of flowing water mixed with the quiet groans of a suffering young man.
By the time the sun reached its peak, Jin stepped out of his dwelling dressed in his black robe.
The morning breeze brushed against his face and gently stirred his hair—long, dark as wet ink, with golden highlights that caught the sunlight like strands of polished metal. He wore it tied in a simple ponytail, leaving a few strands loose to frame his expression.
Every muscle in his body protested. Pain pulsed beneath his skin in slow, lingering waves.
Even so, Jin walked upright.
He took a deep breath.
"Well… I'm still alive," he muttered, placing a hand on his side and tightening his lips as a sharp ache shot through him.
"That was insane. I still doubt that's the correct way to advance that technique…"
Circulating his Qi again, Jin felt… nothing. Literally nothing. He hadn't stepped through the so-called threshold the manual mentioned. Aside from the pain tormenting every part of his body, he didn't feel any stronger.
"Did I do something wrong…?"
He lifted his gaze toward the bright sky, wondering what he should do today. Cultivation was out of the question—if he put his body through that pain again, something bad would definitely happen.
And cultivating Qi required harmony and stability—both of which he lacked entirely.
"I suppose exploring the outer sect wouldn't be a bad idea," Jin murmured.
With that thought, he began a small walk.
The stone paths stretched before him, carved with an almost careless touch, as if each section had been built by different hands in different eras. Still, the overall effect had a certain charm: unexpected curves, uneven steps, and small cracks where soft-colored wildflowers grew.
As he walked, Jin observed every pavilion and hall he came across.
To his right, he passed a light-wood building with wide open windows, from which a warm, spiced broth aroma drifted out. Tables of various sizes were arranged under a two-story roof, and several disciples ate, laughed, or argued over cultivation techniques. It was clearly a small restaurant belonging to the outer sect. The clatter of bowls, the rising steam, and the laughter created an oddly comforting atmosphere.
A little farther ahead, he found a spacious pavilion with double doors that were always open. Inside, several disciples gathered around circular tables, exchanging information or requesting minor missions. It seemed to be a meeting hall—or perhaps an activity center—where newcomers could find company or learn the place's rules.
And as the path descended, the voices became more numerous.
In the distance, Jin saw what appeared to be a small improvised market spread around an irregular stone plaza. Tents, blankets, and old tables served as stands where disciples sold and traded items: low-grade herbs, incomplete talismans, worn-out weapons, bottles filled with questionable liquids. The bustle gave the place a lively, almost chaotic charm.
"So this is where everyone comes to get rid of what they don't want… or scam the clueless," he murmured with a faint smile.
But among all that movement, something caught his attention.
At the highest point of the path stood a pavilion completely different from the rest. Its dark wooden walls were polished to a shine, reflecting the sunlight, and its roof was made of reddish tiles that gleamed like gemstones. Two banners hung beside the main entrance, embroidered with symbols of cauldrons surrounded by golden flames.
Even from afar, it radiated luxury.
Jin narrowed his eyes.
"That must be the Alchemy Peak's store…"
The entrance was guarded by two disciples wearing orange robes with light purple patterns. They watched every person who came near. The scent of medicinal herbs floated through the air, mixed with a faint aroma of freshly refined pills. There was no doubt: high-quality products were sold there… at prices definitely not meant for someone like him.
Jin sighed.
"One day… I'll walk in there without worrying about contribution points," he murmured, though he knew that "day" was still far away.
Even so, just seeing the place added a touch of aspiration to his walk.
The outer sect was larger—and more complex—than he had imagined.
Jin forced himself to look away from the luxurious alchemy pavilion. For now, the improvised market was a more realistic target… and probably more entertaining.
He followed the descending path toward the irregular plaza.
As he got closer, the noise became clearer: voices haggling over prices, mocking laughter, exaggerated complaints, the clinking of bottles, and even a few frustrated shouts that—according to Jin—signaled a failed deal.
The market had no order whatsoever.
That was precisely its charm.
Some disciples had laid old blankets on the ground and placed random objects on top: fragments of talismans that no longer worked, slightly wilted herbs, low-grade energy stones that barely gave off a faint glow.
Others had set up improvised stands with unstable tables or stacked crates. There they sold chipped weapons, supposedly "spiritual" metal plates, and hand-copied manuals where the calligraphy quality… varied dramatically.
Jin walked between the stalls as the vendors tried to catch his attention.
"Young man! Looking for a light sword? It has an inner spirit… asleep," one said, coughing in a very suspicious way.
"Fresh herbs from the northern mountain, just harvested!" another exaggerated—though they had clearly been sitting under the sun for hours.
"Concentration stones, perfect for meditation. They don't work for everyone, but for you? Definitely," said a third with almost artistic confidence.
Jin simply smiled and shook his head politely.
He had no extra contribution points… and no intention of falling for such basic scams.
After a while, he stopped in front of a more modest stall.
A simple beige blanket was spread on the ground, and atop it were only three items: an empty gourd, a small hunting knife…
and a transparent glass bottle filled with several pills.
Unlike what he had seen in other stalls, the pills seemed relatively well-made—round, lightly dusted with white powder, and giving off a soft medicinal scent that was almost refreshing.
The vendor was a thin boy who looked exhausted but honest. He wore the gray robe of the outer disciples and had bandages around his forearms.
When he noticed Jin looking at the bottle, he lifted his gaze.
"Oh… interested?" he asked in a cautious, non-aggressive tone.
Jin crouched slightly, examining the pills with care.
"Depends. What are they?"
The boy gestured humbly at the bottle.
"Minor Soothing Pills. Nothing impressive, but they help reduce muscle tension and speed up recovery after intense training. They were refined by a third-level disciple from Alchemy Peak. Nothing luxurious, but they work."
Jin felt a faint pulse of pain run down his back, as if his muscles wanted to remind him of what he had done that morning.
"Reduce muscle tension, huh…?" he murmured, hiding half his discomfort behind a thoughtful expression.
The vendor nodded quickly.
"Yeah. They won't perform miracles, but at least you can sleep without feeling like your bones are on fire."