Jin left the Contribution Pavilion with the mission tablet tucked under his robe, still feeling the receptionist's suppressed laughter prickling at the back of his neck. The air outside was cool—colder than before, or maybe his body was simply too exhausted to hold any warmth.
He mentally repeated the directions she'd given him.
Take the path through the medicinal garden.
Climb those stairs.
Follow the stream until it fades.
Look for a stone arch wrapped in mist…
Then walk straight until the ground begins to slope.
"Easy," he muttered. "In theory."
The path to the medicinal garden began just behind the pavilion, marked by a row of paper lanterns tied to wooden posts. Jin followed it as the jade flooring gave way to smooth stone, then to packed earth. The scent of fresh herbs reached him before he saw them: spiritual mint, young ginseng, dried lotus buds… a vibrant, almost energizing smell.
Almost.
Because every time he moved his shoulders or stretched his neck, a sharp reminder stabbed through his muscles.
"Ugh… damn it," he grumbled, pressing a hand to his collarbone. "Who told me to hit myself with internal Qi? Ah, right… me."
He passed several garden beds maintained with almost obsessive precision. Medicine disciples hurried back and forth, pruning, sorting roots, or watering with faintly glowing liquid. One of them glanced at him with curiosity, as if wondering whether Jin was a runaway patient from the medical ward.
Jin pretended not to notice.
When he reached the stairs, he nearly sighed. Long, steep, and older than the sect's walls, they rose in daunting tiers. He climbed the first with dignity. The second… less so. By the third, his teeth were clenched as pain crawled from his arms up his back.
"Great… exactly what I needed," he muttered dryly.
At the top, just as she had said, a crystal-clear stream wound between white stones. The water sang softly as it fell over tiny drops, forming delicate foam. Jin followed its course, letting the sound guide him as he tried to relax his shoulders. Each step sent sharp jabs along his ribs.
The stream thinned… narrowed… and then suddenly vanished. The ground ahead was dry, as if the water had decided to disappear without a trace.
"Alright… next point: stone arch wrapped in mist."
And there it was.
A few meters ahead, nestled between two twisted trees, stood a moss-covered gray arch. Mist clung to it gently, as though it were breathing. It looked ancient, abandoned… yet alive.
Jin stopped, adjusted the pill bottle under his robe, and took a deep breath.
"Definitely the right way."
He stepped through the arch.
On the other side, the atmosphere shifted. The air was colder, more humid; the light dimmer. To his left stretched uneven ground knotted with exposed roots. To his right, the forest's shadow grew denser.
He walked straight, just as instructed. The terrain began to slope—very slowly at first, then more noticeably.
The incline.
The outer edge of the Misty Forest opened before him like an ocean of tall trees whose trunks seemed to swallow light. A first veil of mist curled around them—thick, heavy, unnervingly still.
Jin stopped at the boundary, placing a hand on his side.
"Perfect… just when things start getting interesting, the pain decides it wants the spotlight. Very good, body," he grumbled, massaging his shoulder. "Could you cooperate? Even a little?"
A crack sounded in his back.
"…I'll take that as a no."
Jin dropped onto a large, flat rock, cold enough to steal a shiver from him. From there, the Misty Forest stretched ahead like a gray sea: slender trees wrapped in low fog, twisted roots jutting like fingers, and a damp silence that felt as though it were watching him.
He rested his elbows on his knees and exhaled slowly.
His body felt heavy.
Every muscle protested.
His heartbeat came in uneven rhythms, as if still remembering the punishment from his "brilliant idea" the day before.
The trip here hadn't exactly been gentle: the endless stairs, the sharp herbal scent of the medicinal garden, the icy stream that wound its way into nothingness… all of it had been a constant reminder of how battered he was.
"Perfect… already broken before I even start," he muttered with a dry smile.
He reached inside his robe and pulled out a small ceramic bottle. He rolled it between his fingers, tapping it lightly with his thumb.
A thin strip of yellow paper still sealed the lid.
Jin stared at it as though making a life-altering decision.
"Use it now… or save it for when I'm worse?" he wondered, tilting his head.
The bottle offered its usual silent indifference.
"Ha… being worse isn't exactly hard."
With a resigned huff, he broke the seal. A faint herbal aroma escaped like a quiet sigh.
He took out one of the pills—small, round, pale green.
He held it in his palm a second longer, as if waiting for it to speak.
Then he popped it into his mouth.
The taste was bitter, though not unbearable. It dissolved quickly on his tongue and slid down with a gentle warmth that spread to his stomach.
A few seconds later, he felt it.
First, a warm tingling along his shoulders.
Then a soft wave spreading down his back.
It wasn't miraculous relief—not even close—but a subtle relaxation, like invisible fingers pressing lightly on the points that hurt most.
A warm-cool sensation—contradictory yet pleasant—slid down his arms, easing some of the tension stuck in his muscles.
It didn't erase the pain… but it pushed it farther away. Made it manageable.
"…Ah. Not bad," he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment.
He breathed deeply, letting the sensation settle. Some of the internal cramps—the ones that felt like tiny needles beneath the skin—lost their sting.
His tired body seemed grateful.
Jin opened his eyes and looked at the forest again. The mist swayed gently between the trunks, as if breathing.
"Alright," he said, rising slowly from the rock. "This will do."
He stored the bottle carefully—almost fondly.
"Time to work."
Jin took a deep breath before stepping into the Misty Forest.
The forest's edge wasn't intimidating at all: tall, straight trunks, soft green leaves trembling lightly in the breeze, and a thin mist floating at ankle height like a pale veil refusing to dissipate. Not dark or eerie… just different. As though someone had filtered sunlight through a damp canvas.
"Good. Nothing trying to kill me… for now," Jin muttered as he walked.
The ground was a mix of damp soil, exposed roots, and smooth stones. Mist curled around his ankles, shifting with each step. Not thick, but persistent—like the forest itself was breathing.
He pulled out the mission tablet and examined it while walking carefully.
Requested plants:
• Freshmist Leaf: grows near cold air currents; bluish leaves with silver edges.
• Whispering Root: small plant with triangular leaves; emits a faint crackle when touched.
• Lucent Moss: appears on flat rocks exposed to mist; glows faintly at dusk.
"Well… at least the names are reasonable," Jin thought. "Nothing like 'Soul-Eating Flower' or 'Exploding Root.' That's an improvement."
He tucked the tablet back into his robe and continued onward with measured steps.
The forest was… alive, but not dangerous. Small emerald-shelled insects crawled along roots; short-tailed birds darted through the mist like swift shadows; he even spotted a spiritual rabbit the size of his forearm, its translucent ears trembling faintly with natural energy. When he looked at it, the creature stared back for a second before hopping away into the underbrush.
"Pretty calm too, huh?" Jin whispered.
He continued. Occasionally he crouched to move branches aside, careful not to trip over thick roots. More than once, a curious insect climbed onto his boot before Jin nudged it off with the side of his foot.
The mist stayed the same, but the light shifted. Between trunks, sunbeams filtered in fragmented shafts, forming golden lines suspended in the air. The forest had its own rhythm—silent, steady, almost hypnotic.
"Not bad for a beginner mission," Jin admitted as he walked deeper. "And if they really pay five low-grade spirit stones… even better."
A distant trickle of water marked a direction—not part of his instructions, just the forest's own nature.
His eyes flicked between the tablet and the uncertain path ahead.
"Alright, rare plants… come to me."
Jin stepped deeper into the Misty Forest, letting the damp silence wrap around him. The light mist slid between the trunks like something alive, and every so often a cold draft brushed the back of his neck—a reminder that he was far from the main paths.
He put away the tablet and crouched to inspect the ground. The first plant on the list: Freshmist Leaf—found near cold air currents; bluish leaves with silver edges.
There were no streams nearby, but the air… did shift. He walked slowly, letting his skin sense the subtle changes. A colder breeze touched his cheek, and he followed the invisible thread to a cluster of low shrubs.
Among the common green leaves, something glimmered faintly silver.
"There you are."
He gently pushed the branches aside and found the Freshmist Leaves—bluish, their metallic edges looking as though coated in condensed frost. He crouched and plucked only what he needed, careful not to damage the roots.
Standing up, he looked around for somewhere to store them and opened the small cloth pouch hanging from his waist. Simple, sand-colored, reinforced drawstring. He stared at it for a second and smirked at the memory of how he'd gotten it.
"Almost forgot, little brother," the receptionist had said while rummaging through a drawer filled with papers and random objects. "If you're gathering herbs, you'll need this. Basic, but keeps them from wilting. Don't say I don't take care of my customers."
She'd winked and tossed it to him before he could protest.
The memory tugged a quiet exhale from him before he returned to the present.
He stored the leaves gently and moved on between the damp-barked trees.
The second plant appeared soon after. Passing a fallen log, he heard a faint crick-crick. He stopped.
Whispering Root.
He crouched, brushed aside some moss, and there it was: a tiny plant with triangular leaves, trembling lightly whenever the air brushed past. When he tapped a leaf, the crackling grew louder—just as described.
"Like an angry mouse," he chuckled.
He extracted the roots carefully and stored them as well.
The Lucent Moss was last. He walked a bit farther until he found a flat rock coated in fine mist. On its surface, faint pale specks shimmered like fireflies trapped in crystal.
Jin leaned in, barely brushing the surface. The moss emitted a soft, almost warm glow.
"Beautiful."
He scraped it off with precise motions and tucked it into the pouch.
Three plants. Three types complete.
And half the forest still ahead of him.
Jin straightened, patted the pouch to make sure everything was secure, and looked forward through the mist.
"Not bad for the first day," he murmured.
He checked the herbs inside the pouch again: Freshmist Leaf, Whispering Root, and a decent handful of Lucent Moss. His mission was more than fulfilled… but as he watched the filtered light between the branches, a practical thought crossed his mind.
"The more, the better. I need spirit stones for cultivation."
Pressing his lips together, he stepped a bit deeper into the lower forest. Not too far—just enough to gather a few extra specimens.
He quickly found a small bush with three bluish leaves trembling under a cold breeze.
Freshmist Leaf.
"Good," he murmured, plucking them carefully. "That pays."
Farther ahead, hidden between two curved roots, a tiny triangular plant crackled faintly when he brushed it.
Whispering Root.
"Perfect."
The Lucent Moss was easiest: a flat rock coated in faint glow when the mist touched it. Jin scraped some with meticulous patience and tucked the green shimmer away.
That was enough. Not greed… necessity. And he had no intention of risking more than needed in a forest that, peaceful as it seemed, still carried "Misty" in its name.
He stored the pouch inside his robe and looked at the sliver of sky between the treetops. The sun was already sinking, tinting the mist in warm hues.
"Time to head back," he said to himself.
He straightened—his body protested, reminding him of every bruise and strained muscle—and turned, taking the path he had come from.
Mission complete. And with luck, a bit of profit too.