Chapter 15
Chapter 15: Recruitment
Zhao Chun knew the visitor. Among the hundreds of Qi Refining Stage third-level disciples in the Thirty-Ninth Court, the most renowned was Feng San Chu.
His origins were tangled. He had been born into a minor cultivation clan in Heng Yun, only to vanish into a Small World for reasons no one ever explained. He wasn’t found again until he was 14 or 15.
Riddled with guilt, his parents spent the fortune they’d scraped together over half a lifetime to trade for a spot for him in the Ling Zhen Sect.
It should have been a private blessing, but the Feng Family called it wasteful—throwing everything at someone whose future looked dim. They accused the three of “disrespect to the clan” and drove them out.
The outcome, however, was almost absurdly dramatic. Feng San Chu joined the sect at 15, and within three years—despite having four spirit roots—he pushed straight through to Qi Refining Stage third level. He was only a step away from becoming an official disciple.
Enthusiastic by nature, loyal and generous, he was the sort who helped without keeping score. Many disciples in the Thirty-Ninth Court had benefited from his favors or his protection. As a result, Feng San Chu’s reputation there was excellent, and people genuinely liked him. There were even signs he was becoming the informal leader of the court’s disciples.
After Zhao Chun broke through to Qi Refining Stage second level, he had shown her a bit of goodwill as well. Still, they weren’t close—certainly not close enough to be called friends—so she couldn’t imagine why he would come to her door today.
Feng San Chu took a sip of tea and set the cup down with an easy smile. “Lately I’ve heard you’ve been looking into ways to earn money, Junior Sister Zhao. I entered the sect a few years before you. I was strapped for spirit stones in the beginning too. Things are better for me now.”
Zhao Chun lifted her brows. “Then I’ll have to trouble Senior Brother to point me in the right direction.”
“Point you?” He waved it off. “I’m not that grand. I just hope it’ll help you a little.”
His thumb rested lightly against the lid of the gaiwan as his eyes narrowed, teeth flashing white. “There’s a dual-spirit-root disciple in the Ling Zhen Sect. An elder traveling outside brought him in at 33. Before that, he ran trade caravans for a living and amassed a fortune.”
“Later, using his connections, he established the Bounty Board. Cultivators outside the sect—and even mortals—can post bounties there. Sect disciples take whatever suits them, and both sides get what they want. It’s a good arrangement.”
He leaned forward a touch. “By coincidence, I have one that fits. I’d like to invite you along, Junior Sister, so you can contribute another set of hands.”
Unsolicited kindness was rarely pure kindness. Zhao Chun kept her guard up. “Senior Brother is overpraising me. I’m only at Qi Refining Stage second level. What help could I possibly be?”
Feng San Chu stopped circling and went straight to the point. “Junior Sister, you’re young and talented. Given time, you’ll achieve something—so I dared to come to you today.”
“This bounty includes an official Outer Sect disciple in the team: Senior Brother Meng Han. He’s already at late Qi Refining Stage. Below Foundation Establishment Stage, it’s hard to find anyone who can match him. The rest of us only need to accompany him and collect the reward.”
Zhao Chun frowned slightly. “If Senior Brother Meng is that strong, the bounty shouldn’t be difficult. Why bring others along at all?”
“You don’t know the whole story.” Feng San Chu lowered his voice, though the room was empty besides them. “Senior Brother Meng received a favor from my parents years ago, so he’s looked after me in the sect ever since.”
“I was the one who accepted this bounty. The person who posted it demanded five Qi Refining Stage third-level disciples. I already found two. Senior Brother Meng happened to be leaving the sect on business and traveling the same route, so we simply brought him into the team.”
“With him there, the remaining slot isn’t so strict. The four of us discussed it and decided to give it to a newly advanced disciple with exceptional potential—call it a small favor, a way to build goodwill.”
“And the first person I thought of was you, Junior Sister Zhao.”
A young three-spirit-root cultivator with grit—someone who could endure long, lonely training without wavering. Feng San Chu and the others had already formed a favorable impression of Zhao Chun. If they could form a connection through this slot, so much the better.
Even if Zhao Chun never became anything extraordinary, it wouldn’t harm them in the slightest. Why not?
Zhao Chun could hardly find a reason to refuse. And she truly was poor. After a brief pause, she said, “Then I’ll thank Senior Brother for his generosity.”
Feng San Chu’s expression brightened at once. He explained a few more details—small things, but practical—then rose to take his leave. “That settles it. In five days, meet us at the Rear Mountain gate, Junior Sister.”
It was as if a pillow had been placed under her head the moment she started to doze. A problem that had troubled her for months suddenly had an answer, and Zhao Chun felt lighter.
Even if she hadn’t agreed to go, she would still have learned something important: the sect had a place called the Bounty Board where one could earn Cui Stones.
So this was what it meant to be good with people. Zhao Chun couldn’t stop the quiet sigh that slipped out. Feng San Chu was so smooth, so deft—it wasn’t something she could catch up to just by trying harder.
Disciples who intended to travel far had to register first at the disciples’ quarters—when they were leaving, when they expected to return. If they failed to return within a year past the registered date, the sect would treat them as dead.
Feng San Chu said the round trip would take five or six days, with about 10 days of delay in the middle. To be safe, Zhao Chun could register that she would return in a month. She would still make it back in time for the large lecture.
Ever since arriving in Heng Yun, she had been inside the Ling Zhen Sect. Going beyond the sect’s borders would be a first.
Zhou Pian Ran looked eager, almost wistful. “We’ve been here so long and never gone out once.”
“I wonder what it’s like compared to Chu Kingdom. Ah Chun, you have to look carefully. And when you come back, you have to tell me about it.”
Fei Hu was what the Heng Yun world called the place where Chu Kingdom lay. To outsiders, Zhou Pian Ran only said she came from the Fei Hu Small World; in private, she never used that name.
Chu Kingdom—alien and unfamiliar to Zhao Chun—was the homeland Zhou Pian Ran couldn’t bear to part with.
“If I can,” Zhao Chun said, “I’ll bring you back something interesting.”
They were headed to Ji City, a fairly large city. Zhao Chun wanted to see more of the world too.
When the three Senior Sisters learned she was traveling, they wouldn’t stop fussing. Cui Lan E was the worst of them. She nagged and warned Zhao Chun until her voice went hoarse, and before Zhao Chun left, she even made her check her pouch again, afraid she would forget something.
“I’ll be back in a month,” Zhao Chun promised. “You don’t need to worry. Take care of yourselves too.”
She said her goodbyes and rode the Mist Skiff toward the mountain gate. Even then, Lian Jing’s sharp voice followed her like a needle. “When it’s done, don’t linger. Come back early. And don’t let the things outside dazzle you—those with bad hearts love to swindle country bumpkins like you!”
Lian Jing’s mouth was unforgiving, but Zhao Chun knew her heart was soft. She accepted the warning, nodded, and promised she would return quickly.
At the mountain gate, Feng San Chu and the others hadn’t arrived yet.
Zhao Chun’s cultivation was the lowest, making her the junior. She didn’t want to keep anyone waiting, so she came early.
Luckily, she didn’t wait long. The four of them arrived together, and the man at the front immediately drew the eye—tall, broad-shouldered, skin slightly dark, with bright, tiger-like eyes that seemed to glint even in the shade.
Feng San Chu followed behind him, suddenly looking like a half-grown boy in comparison. That had to be Meng Han.
The remaining two were faces Zhao Chun recognized from the Thirty-Ninth Court: Liao Duan Yi and his sister, Liao Little Yi. Their features were similar, and even their builds weren’t far apart.
“Junior Sister got here first,” Feng San Chu said with a grin as he strode up. “We’ve made you wait.”
Then he turned to the others and introduced her. “This is the Junior Sister Zhao Chun I mentioned.”
“Junior Sister, this is Senior Brother Meng.”
Zhao Chun stepped forward and clasped her hands. “Reserve Disciple Zhao Chun greets Senior Brother Meng.”
Meng Han looked her over. In his eyes, Zhao Chun was nothing but a child who hadn’t finished growing—small enough to seem almost pitiful.
Still, Feng San Chu clearly valued her. And for Feng San Chu’s sake, Meng Han tamped down his intimidating presence and forced his features into something like a friendly smile.
“Ah,” he said, awkwardly bright, “hello, Junior Sister. Hello.”
He didn’t look like the sort who smiled often. His face was fierce to begin with, and the expression only made him seem stranger. Zhao Chun hesitated, unsure how to respond.
Before the silence could stretch, Liao Duan Yi and Liao Little Yi stepped in, chatting easily with her and smoothing the moment over.