The walk back to the Contribution Hall was longer than Jin had expected, and with every step, the wet fabric of his robe clung uncomfortably to his skin. By the time he finally spotted the building in the distance, the sunset had already turned reddish, casting warm tones across the stone walls.
Jin passed by the main entrance… and several disciples stared at him.
"Brother… you're soaked."
"Looks like you fought a river and lost."
"Could he be one of the new recruits?"
The murmurs lasted only a few seconds, but Jin continued walking with a stoic expression, as if nothing was unusual… though each step made a squelch, squelch sound from the water trapped in his shoes.
He entered the Contribution Hall.
The contrast was immediate: from the damp, reddish light outside to the soft illumination and impeccable order within. The air smelled of ink and polished wood. Rows of tables were aligned precisely, and the murmur of voices and footsteps echoed with an almost administrative rhythm.
A couple of disciples who were submitting their missions stared at him, incredulous.
"Brother… did you leave a trail of water from the entrance?"
Jin raised a hand in greeting without stopping.
"Training," he replied with all the dignity he could muster.
"Water training?" one whispered, and the other tried to suppress a laugh.
Jin didn't dignify them with a response. He simply straightened his back and moved forward, soaked, bruised, and with hair still dripping, until he reached the counter where the same receptionist from before was reviewing some documents.
She looked up… and her expression froze for a long, silent second.
"…."
"Good afternoon," Jin said, as if nothing were strange at all. "I've come to submit the mission."
The young receptionist blinked. Twice.
Then she pressed a hand to her forehead, as if struck by a sudden headache.
"Junior Brother…," her voice trembled between disbelief and suppressed laughter, "for the heavens… what happened to you?"
"A long story," Jin replied, carefully taking out the bag of herbs to show her. "But I completed the mission."
"That… I can see," she said, glancing at the bag and then at his deplorable state. "And I can also see that you barely survived it."
Jin kept his posture firm, ignoring the small puddle forming under his feet.
"The mission was… more educational than I expected."
The young receptionist let out a soft laugh.
"I can believe that. Alright… hand it over, Junior Brother. Let's check your submission before you faint standing up."
Jin took a deep breath, grateful to have arrived alive. And with the herbs. And with the fruit.
A walking disaster, yes… but a disaster that completed the mission.
The receptionist took the bag Jin handed over. The soft sound of stems and leaves brushing together seemed to surprise her: it was heavier than the typical load of a rookie who barely gathers enough to avoid being crushed by a spiritual boar.
"Alright, Junior Brother, give me a moment," she said professionally, though her eyebrows rose slightly in curiosity. "I'll take this to be appraised. It's usually a quick procedure… normally."
She turned with quick steps, carrying the bag in her hands. Jin watched her disappear behind a beaded curtain leading to the inner area of the hall, where appraisers evaluated materials, herbs, and mission items.
Behind the curtain, the young woman walked down a narrow, clean corridor. On each side, slightly older disciples worked at tables, sorting, recording, or packaging submitted materials.
"Sister Lin, another collection mission?" asked an appraiser with jade-glass spectacles.
"Yes, from the Misty Forest. Basic level," she replied, placing the bag on a table.
The appraiser opened the bag with little expectation… but at first glance, his hands froze.
He pulled out a Freshmist Leaf. Holding it under the light, the silver edges seemed sharper than usual. The blue of the leaf was intense, almost vibrant.
"…Where did this come from?" he murmured.
Then he picked up a handful of Luminous Moss. Under the light, its soft glow stood out with rare clarity: uniform, stable, almost as pure as a second-grade batch.
Lin blinked.
"Is it… good?"
"Sister Lin," said the appraiser more seriously, "this is on the verge of second-grade quality."
She felt a shiver run down her spine.
"What?"
The appraiser also took out a Whispering Root, squeezing it slightly. The sound was perfect: a clean, resonant crack, not the rough squeak typical of common plants.
"If you told me a veteran disciple with developed spiritual awareness collected this, I would believe it," he added. "But according to the record… it was submitted by a rookie with just five days in the sect?"
"Yes," Lin said, unable to stop glancing toward the hall entrance in disbelief. "And he came soaked, bruised, looking like he fought the entire mountain. How…?"
The appraiser placed the herbs on the table very carefully, as if breathing too close could reduce their quality.
"Sister Lin…," he said in a tense tone, "I can't simply pay the standard reward for these plants. This far exceeds expectations."
She nodded, biting her lip slightly.
"Yes… I thought the same. I can't decide this alone."
She took a deep breath, picked up the bag, and closed it carefully, as if handling something fragile.
"I'll communicate with the Alchemy Section. They issued the request. They should decide what to do with this batch."
The appraiser nodded solemnly.
"Good idea. This quality doesn't show up every day."
Lin carried the bag in her arms, her expression a mix of surprise, intrigue, and a touch of professional confusion, as she approached the communication talisman in the inner hall.
"Junior Brother Jin…," she murmured, channeling a bit of Qi to activate the seal. "What kind of air did you breathe in that forest?"
The communication signal began to glow.
In one of the side buildings of the Contribution Hall, in a room lit by blue oil lamps, a disciple from the Alchemy Section was reviewing records when a bell chimed softly. It signaled a mission delivered with a batch pending special appraisal.
He looked up.
"Hmm? The collectors again?" he murmured, approaching the newly formed scroll.
But upon reading the preliminary notes sent by the receptionist, his frown turned into surprise.
"Twenty-seven Freshmist Leaves… all at the top of first-grade quality? Fourteen Whispering Roots undamaged…? And nineteen Luminous Moss fragments nearly pure?" He blinked. "This… this isn't normal."
Not for beginners.
And especially not for someone who—according to the additional note—had only been in the sect for five days.
The disciple took the tablet and hurried down the corridor, stopping in front of an old wooden door with a green talisman on the frame.
He knocked lightly.
"Elder Wei, I have an urgent report."
From inside, a rough but calm voice replied:
"Enter."
The young disciple pushed the door open. The room was filled with shelves of jade boxes, covered jars, and small braziers drying herbs. In the center, an elderly man with a short white beard was sorting seeds on a wooden tray.
"Speak," he requested without looking up.
The disciple bowed.
"Elder Wei, the basic collection mission we sent out this morning… has been completed. The batch is here. The receptionist sent preliminary details, and I thought it appropriate to inform you immediately."
"Another mediocre delivery?" the elder grunted. "Leave it on the shelf, I'll check it later."
"No, Elder… it's not mediocre." He swallowed, impressed even as he repeated it. "The herbs… are unusually high quality."
That caught the elder's attention. He looked up, squinting.
"How 'unusually high'?"
The disciple placed the tablet on the table and recited:
Freshmist Leaf: 27 units, almost all at the upper limit of first grade, some nearly touching second.
Whispering Root: 14 units, none damaged, all with clear sound.
Luminous Moss: 19 clean fragments, no visible impurities.
Elder Wei set aside the tray. His expression shifted from indifference… to interest.
"A batch near second-grade… from the lower slopes?" He stroked his beard, thoughtful. "That would require spiritual sensitivity… or exceptional luck."
"The mission was taken by a new disciple, Elder," the young man added. "He joined just five days ago."
A heavy silence filled the room.
The elder closed his eyes for a moment, calculating, comparing, evaluating.
When he spoke, it was with absolute clarity:
"That work is worth far more than five credits and a handful of spirit stones."
The disciple nodded, relieved to match his judgment.
"That was my thought, Elder. The receptionist awaits instructions. Should I adjust the reward?"
The elder placed a hand on the tablet, weighing the information.
"Yes. For this batch, offering only low-grade stones… fifty would be reasonable, though still a low payment for what we received."
The young man's eyes widened in surprise.
A basic mission never paid that much.
"Or…" the elder continued thoughtfully, "if that young man wants to cultivate and has some brains, offer him the following: he may come see me directly. I prepared a small batch of useful pills for Qi Gathering beginners a few days ago. Nothing extraordinary, but far superior to the cheap stuff sold in the market."
"Should I leave both options for the disciple to choose?"
"Exactly." The elder nodded. "Let him choose between fifty spirit stones… or a batch of pills suitable for someone with potential."
The elder's eyes gleamed faintly, as if a newly awakened interest had taken form.
"And remind the receptionist that, if the boy comes to see me, bring him directly here. I want to see what kind of child achieves this in five days."
The disciple bowed respectfully.
"Right away, Elder Wei."
He hurried off to deliver the news.
The receptionist returned to the counter, the jade communicator still warm in her hand. Her quick steps betrayed what her face tried to hide. When she stopped in front of Jin, she studied him for a moment: hair still wet, robe wrinkled, dirt stains on his shoulders. He looked like a new disciple who had rolled down a hill… yet he had delivered nearly spiritual-quality herbs.
She took a deep breath.
"Junior Brother Jin…," she finally said, with a mix of disbelief and respect, "I just received a response from the Alchemy Section."
Jin raised an eyebrow, attentive.
"And…?"
She squinted, as if making sure she wasn't dreaming.
"See… your herbs…" she paused, searching for words, "shouldn't exist. Not for a first batch from a new disciple. All specimens are at the maximum first-grade level… some nearing second. The purity is… absurd."
Jin crossed his arms, uncomfortable.
"Is that good?"
"'Good' doesn't cover it," she replied, letting the weight of the phrase sink in. "It's enough to surprise the Alchemy Section's storage officer. And that man is never surprised."
Jin blinked.
The receptionist continued:
"The elder said you can take the standard reward… fifty low-grade spirit stones,"—she gestured toward a small sealed wooden chest on the counter—"or…"
Jin tilted his head slightly.
"Or?"
She looked him over again, as if still unable to comprehend that a drenched, half-bruised boy was hearing options no ordinary external disciple would ever receive.
"Or you can go see him directly. The elder said that, if you prefer, you could receive a batch of pills useful for your cultivation. Pills that… well, are normally not offered to new disciples."
A silence hung between them.
And in it, Jin felt his heart skip a beat.
Fifty spirit stones.
For someone without a single remaining point, it was like stumbling upon unexpected treasure.
But…
In all the cultivation novels he had read, there was a tacit rule:
An alchemist is a celestial tree worth cultivating.
Even if that meant appearing before him half-dry, half-wet, and still smelling of the Misty Forest.
Jin exhaled slowly.
"If I'm going to see him… where is he?"
The young receptionist smiled, as if she had guessed his decision the moment he spoke.
"I knew it." She turned slightly and pointed down a side corridor. "Annex building, second floor. External Section Herbal Storage Room. You can't get lost… the scents will probably guide you."
Jin swallowed, uneasy realizing how terrible he must look.
"Do you think… I should tidy myself up a bit?"
She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle laughter.
"Junior Brother…," she said between suppressed giggles, "if they accepted you with those herbs, I don't think they care about your hair. And besides…"—she looked at him with playful fondness—"the 'just escaped a natural disaster' look suits you surprisingly well."
Jin snorted.
"Perfect… exactly the image I wanted to give."
She extended the tablet with the official seal.
"Go. Don't keep him waiting. And… in case no one told you… you did an exceptional job."
Jin nodded, tucking away the tablet, the empty herb bag, and adjusting the fruit in his inner robe pocket.
Then, soaked, sore, and with an unexpected invitation in his favor, he set off toward the Alchemy Section.