Chapter 8: The Miser's Task
1087 Words
Shi Yue soon arrived at the Mission Hall.
Even before stepping inside, the cacophony of voices assaulted his ears—a marketplace clamor.
The hall overflowed with three to four hundred Qi Refining disciples.
The first days of each month brought this chaos, when routine assignments were doled out. For the hall stewards, it was a prime opportunity to line their pockets. Those who bribed them well received lucrative tasks; those without Spirit Stones were handed the dregs: backbreaking, grimy labor.
Truthfully, Shi Yue had considered bribing Steward Wang. But the man demanded dozensof Spirit Stones—an outrageous sum Shi Yue refused to pay.
Disciples were grouped under specific stewards for task assignments. Unfortunately, Shi Yue fell under Wang’s jurisdiction. Until he reached the tenth layer of Qi Refining, he was stuck taking orders from the man.
Even after his recent breakthrough to the third layer, Shi Yue’s cultivation remained the lowest in the hall.
He waited quietly at the edge of the crowd until the last disciple before Wang departed. Then he approached, forcing a smile.
"Steward Wang, I’m here for my routine task."
Wang’s eyes swept over him dismissively. "Gather five ten-year Crimson Ginseng roots. Reward: ten Spirit Stones."
A year of herb-gathering had left Shi Yue weary. "Steward, could I have a different assignment? The outskirts picked clean. Even five-year herbs are scarce now."
Deep within the mountains lay potent herbs, but after last year’s near-fatal encounter with a Crimson-Scaled Python—whose gallbladder nearly cost him his life—he’d sworn off those depths. No reward was worth dying for.
Wang’s smile turned serpentine. "A different task? Certainly. It depends on how... accommodatingyou can be."
Shi Yue gritted his teeth. "How much?"
"One hundred Spirit Stones. Long-term assignment: tidy and organize the Scripture Repository. Ten Stones monthly. Do well, and you’ll keep it for life. Tempting, no?"
One hundred Stones?Shi Yue’s face twitched. "No."
Even if he had that sum, trusting Wang was foolish. The Repository’s overseer could expel him on a whim—leaving him destitute and voiceless.
Wang’s smile vanished. "Then stop wasting my time! Go dig up those roots!"
Shi Yue swallowed his protest and turned toward the exit.
Suddenly, Wang’s silver jade plate buzzed, glowing white before etching new characters onto its surface.
"Another task!" Wang’s initial delight faded as he read it. "Shi Yue! Stop! The ginseng task is canceled. New assignment!"
Shi Yue frowned but returned, steeling himself for worse labor.
"This isn’t gathering," Wang declared. "It’s cultivation. Tend three acres of fifty-year Water Moon Flowers. Water every two days. Two Spirit Stones monthly. Duration: six months."
"Two Stones a month?!"Shi Yue blurted, incredulous. Watering three acres twice per week for such pittance? Only a miser would propose this.
"Silence! Two Stones it is. And it’s from Martial Uncle Zhou Hong."
Shi Yue’s jaw tightened. Zhou Hong.
Within the Ethereal Sect, two inner-peak elders were notorious: Yan Ge, who lectured Qi Refining disciples, and Zhou Hong—infamous not for his vast herb gardens spanning over ten acres, but for his stinginess.
Tasks from Zhou Hong paid nevermore than three Stones. Failures earned vicious reprimands. Disciples privately called him "Zhou Three-Piece." Few volunteered for his work.
"Go to Jade Cloud Peak immediately. His compound is the largest. Report to him." Wang thrust a green token at Shi Yue, his tone brooking no argument.
Trapped—unable to bribe Wang and unwilling to brave the mountains—Shi Yue accepted the token and flew toward Jade Cloud Peak.
The peak soared three hundred zhang high, wreathed in mist from its midpoint upward. Lush greenery covered its slopes, dotted with ornate pavilions and cave dwellings. One estate dominated: a walled compound spanning acres, shimmering under a white barrier formation.
Shi Yue landed at its gate, infused the token with Qi, and watched a green beam pierce the light barrier.
"Enter," rasped a voice from within.
The barrier dissolved. The gates swung open.
Inside, Shi Yue inhaled sharply.
The courtyard was a tapestry of exotic spirit plants. Medicinal fragrances hung thick in the air, revitalizing his senses. No buildings stood—only crisscrossing stone paths dividing nine plots of vibrant, unidentifiable botanicals.
A gaunt, middle-aged man stood before a field of foot-tall white blossoms, conjuring rain over them.
Shi Yue bowed deeply. "Disciple Shi Yue greets Martial Uncle Zhou."
Zhou Hong eyed him critically. "The Mission Hall sent you? Your cultivation is pitifully low."
Of course it is, Shi Yue thought bitterly. Who with decent strength would take your miserly pittance?But he held his tongue.
Zhou Hong waved a dismissive hand. "No matter. I must depart soon. Watering requires little skill." He pointed to the white flowers. "Your task: water these Water Moon Flowers every two days. Minimum: one quarter-hour per session. Touch nothingelse."
"Understood, Martial Uncle. I’ll water diligently every two days."
"Every two days?" Zhou Hong scoffed. "What if you forget? Or get delayed? You’ll stay here. The spiritual energy dwarfs your hovel."
"Stay? But where would I—"
"Look left."
Shi Yue turned. A ten-foot-wide tunnel yawned there, stone steps descending into an illuminated underground space.
He dug his residence underground to save space for plants?Shi Yue’s eye twitched. This man truly was obsessed.
"Follow," Zhou Hong commanded, descending.
The stone chamber spanned sixty zhang. Moonlight Stones embedded in the walls cast a soft glow. Its furnishings were sparse: meditation mats lay scattered; a tall wooden shelf stood to the left, stacked with jade slips and books.
To the right, a translucent barrier enclosed a cluster of foot-tall black grasses.
"This is your quarters," Zhou Hong stated. "Water the flowers every two days—a full quarter-hour. Remember: touch onlythe Water Moon Flowers. If any other plant withers or vanishes..." His gaze turned glacial. "...there will be consequences."
Shi Yue muttered, "What if one dies naturally?"
Zhou Hong heard. "The others have protective barriers. If a barrier holds but the plant dies, I won’t blame you. If a barrier is breached..." His unspoken threat hung heavy. "Understood?"
"Yes, Martial Uncle." Shi Yue gestured to the shelf. "May I study those texts?"
"You may. Handle the paper scrolls carefully. No damage." Zhou Hong started toward the exit. "I watered today. Your first duty is in two days. Quarter-hour minimum." With a final glare, he left.
Alone, Shi Yue secured the courtyard gate and walked the stone paths, surveying the sea of spirit plants—and the three acres of white flowers that now bound his life.
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