What do you mean I'm a cultivator?-Chapter 12

Scroll in hand, Jiang Cheng approached one of the several desks positioned near the mission board. Behind each sat an inner sect disciple, their white robes with blue trim marking their status as clearly as a banner would. Unlike the testing pavilion's clerk, these disciples made no effort to hide their disdain for the outer sect members they served.

The nearest desk was occupied by a young woman with sharp features and sharper eyes.

Her gaze flicked up briefly as Jiang Cheng approached, then down to his new robes, noting the blue streak with mild surprise before her expression settled back into practiced indifference.

"Mission registration." she stated flatly, holding out her hand for the scroll.

Jiang passed it over without comment. The inner disciple unrolled it, scanning its contents with practiced efficiency before entering the details into her jade tablet with quick, precise motions of her fingers, writing on it, her hands betraying her Foundation establishment realm.

"Three days east to the Valley. Gather specified herbs, minimum of five cloud lotus and three spirit grass specimens." She looked up at him with impassively.

"Yes, Senior." Jiang replied evenly.

"Your funeral if you're not prepared. Junior." Her fingers danced across the jade tablet again.

"Supplies for a week-long journey can be requisitioned from the Elder in the Outer pavilion. Return with proof of completion within fifteen days. Failure to complete forfeits your right to missions for thirty days."

She produced a small jade slip no larger than her thumb and pressed it to her tablet. It flashed briefly before she handed it to him.

"This marks you as on official sect business. Local villages will provide basic accommodation if needed. Don't disgrace the sect."

She waved dismissively, already looking past him to the next disciple in line.

Jiang pocketed the jade slip, satisfaction flowing through him despite the inner disciple's tone. His first mission. A step beyond the confines of the outer sect's daily work. But before he departed, there was one more place he needed to visit.

The bazaar.

Located at the boundary between the outer and inner sects, the bazaar was less a formal marketplace and more a collection of individual trading posts. As Jiang approached, he could see dozens of small mats spread across the wide stone courtyard, each occupied by an inner sect disciple displaying various wares. Behind them rose the towering walls of the inner sect proper—gleaming white stone that seemed to glow with faint luminescence even in daylight.

The contrast was stark: humble mats on rough stone before walls that radiated power and privilege. It was a visual reminder of the gulf between the two worlds, made all the more pointed by the fact that inner disciples were the ones selling, rather than dedicated merchants.

Clearly, they were just getting rid of their old items, having bought better ones in the actual shops the inner sect must have.

Jiang walked slowly through the bazaar, observing rather than engaging. Without contribution points to spend, he could only window-shop, but even this was valuable information. Knowledge was its own currency in cultivation, after all.

"Fresh spirit herbs! Grown in the inner sect gardens!" called one disciple, his mat displaying neat rows of plants that pulsed with subtle energy. "Twice as potent as wild-grown! Perfect for breakthrough attempts!"

Nearby, a stern-looking young man sat cross-legged behind an array of array flags. small triangular banners inscribed with intricate patterns. "Basic defensive arrays! Protect your homes from theft or sabotage! Only fifty contribution points for outer sect members!"

Jiang Cheng noted the pricing with interest.

Fifty points was pricy. Equivalent to five or more simple missions. but if the formations worked as claimed, they might be worth it. He filed the information away for future consideration.

Further along, the offerings grew more diverse and expensive.

Talismans for everything from minor healing to temporary strength enhancement. Low-grade spiritual weapons. Nothing remarkable, but far better than standard iron. Manuals for basic techniques that promised minor advantages in cultivation or combat.

How these techniques differed from the ones in the tower of records was interesting. But a thought best left for later days.

One mat in particular drew a crowd of outer sect disciples. A bored-looking inner disciple sat behind a collection of small jade bottles, each containing pills of varying colors.

"Second step Qi Gathering Pills. Three hundred points each, limit one per disciple."

The price made Jiang wince internally, though his expression remained neutral. Three hundred points was an enormous sum for an outer disciple. Representing months of missions for most. Yet the crowd's eager expressions told him many considered it worth the cost.

Of course, it made sense. Higher ranked pills sold for more. But would it be worth it? would a second step gathering pill be twice as strong as a first step? ten times? who knew.

"Senior Beifong, please reserve one for me! I'll have the points by month's end!" one outer disciple pleaded.

The inner disciple merely yawned. "First come, first served. No reservations."

As Jiang continued his circuit of the bazaar, a pattern became clear. Everything here, while valuable to outer disciples, was clearly considered mundane or even substandard by inner sect standards. The herbs were probably surplus from their gardens. The formations likely practice-made by inner disciples until perfected, replaced by different exercises.

The pills possibly made by apprentice alchemists still learning their craft.

Scraps from their table, yet treasures to those standing outside the wall.

One vendor near the edge of the bazaar caught Jiang's attention not for his wares, but for his customers. Two outer sect disciples—senior ones based on their robes, were engaged in hushed negotiation with the inner disciple, who kept glancing around with poorly concealed nervousness.

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Jiang drifted closer, careful to appear interested in a nearby mat selling calligraphy supplies.

"...private arrangement." the inner disciple was saying quietly. "Directly from my master's garden. Obviously, the price reflects the r-risk."

"Five hundred is robbery." one of the outer disciples hissed back. "Four hundred is our limit, and that's already more than—"

"Fine, fine." the inner disciple cut him off, quickly producing a small package wrapped in waxed paper. "But don't come back for two months. Too suspicious otherwise."

The exchange was completed swiftly, the package disappearing into an outer disciple's sleeve as contribution tokens changed hands.

Interesting. So there were side markets operating beyond the official channels. Not surprising, but good to know.

As the sun climbed higher, Jiang Cheng completed his circuit of the bazaar, having gained a much clearer picture of what the cultivation world valued—and what it cost.

The inner disciples here might look down on their customers, might sell them second-rate goods at inflated prices, but they were still a window into a world Jiang intended to enter.

Somewhere beyond that gleaming wall, he knew, were proper shops with truly valuable treasures. Places where these same inner disciples were the buyers rather than the sellers, where they too might struggle to afford what they coveted. The thought was both sobering and motivating.

Perhaps in the future, he might be the owner of some kind of heavenly treasure. Hopefully sooner than later.

Turning away from the bazaar, Jiang set his mind toward preparation for his journey. The valley awaited, and with it, his first step beyond the sect's immediate influence. He would need supplies, information, and focus.

The path of cultivation stretched before him, no longer abstract but taking concrete form in the missions he would undertake, the resources he would gather, the knowledge he would acquire. Each step bringing him closer to that wall, and eventually, beyond it.

What lay inside the inner sect was only the beginning. That, was the only thing he was sure of.

Leaving the bazaar behind, Jiang Cheng made his way toward the sect's main entrance. The grand staircase he had swept and maintained countless times during his years as an outer disciple.

The massive stone steps descended from the mountain plateau, connecting the sect to the mortal world below. Each step was worn smooth from centuries of use, and Jiang had intimate knowledge of every crack and crevice after the many hours spent cleaning them.

But today, instead of carrying a cloth and a bucket, he approached a modest pavilion built into the mountain wall beside the staircase. He had passed it many times before, but never had reason to enter, or allowed for that matter. Until now.

The pavilion's wooden doors stood open, revealing a cavernous interior that smelled of metal, leather, and dust. Cheng stepped inside, his eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. The space was cluttered with barrels, crates, and racks holding an assortment of equipment meant for disciples on sect missions.

Iron swords stood in barrels near the entrance, some gleaming with oil, others spotted with rust. Spears leaned against the walls in untidy clusters. Cloth packs, waterskins, and coils of rope hung from hooks along the perimeter. Everything was functional but plain Outer sect quality, without a hint of spiritual energy or refinement.

Hell, some mortal merchants might even have better things in their possession.

At the back of the pavilion sat a weathered desk, behind which an older man with a thin beard and the plain robes of a sect elder dozed lightly.

Despite his seemingly relaxed posture, Jiang sensed the steady, powerful flow of Qi within him. Though not as scary as Elder Feng, this Elder had to be at least two stages above him.

Jiang Cheng approached respectfully, stopping at a proper distance before clasping his hands and bowing. "Elder, this disciple Jiang Cheng requests supplies for a sect mission."

The elder's eyes opened slowly, fixing on Cheng with a gaze that seemed to penetrate through flesh and bone to assess his cultivation base. After a moment, he held out a calloused hand.

"Mission slip."

Jiang produced the jade slip given to him by the inner disciple at the mission hall, placing it carefully in the elder's palm. The elder pressed it between his fingers, and the slip glowed briefly as he extracted its information.

"Herb gathering." The elder's voice was gruff but not unkind.

"Three days east. Likely a week's journey round trip, plus time for the task. You'll need supplies for ten days minimum."

He set the slip down on his desk and gestured toward the far corner of the pavilion.

"Satiation pills in the small barrel by the wall—one for each day plus half again for safety. Take fifteen. They're basic quality, mind you. They'll keep hunger at bay, but you'll still need real food every third day at least."

Seems those ones were even worse than the usual dinner, as the satiation pills he had for the last three years, were enough for one day, with no need for food aside water. Bottom of the barrel as they say.

Jiang nodded and moved to the indicated barrel, lifting its lid to reveal hundreds of small gray pills, each no larger than a pea.

These were sub standard for sect missions. Not the higher quality pills that outer sect disciples had for food every day, and certainly not the ones that nourished both body and some Qi that inner disciples would receive, but sufficient to prevent starvation while minimizing the need to hunt or forage extensively.

As he counted out fifteen pills into a small cloth pouch, the elder continued speaking.

"Water won't be an issue in that region, but purification is. Take a water token from the box beside the pills. It's good for thirty uses before the Character fades."

Jiang selected one of the small blue tokens from the lacquered box nearby. It was inscribed with a basic purification array. Enough to make most water safe to drink, though nothing that would work against deliberately poisoned sources.

"As for weapons..." The elder eyed him critically.

"Your cultivation level is sufficient that bare hands would serve against most wildlife, but it's foolish to travel unarmed. Select what you're competent with from the racks."

Jiang considered his options. His combat training had been largely self-taught and somewhat neglected by himself, pieced together from accessible manuals in the tower of records, and the occasional scuffle between two outer sect disciples, seldom being seniors.

Still, a weapon would be prudent. He approached the sword rack, testing the balance of several before selecting a plain short sword with a simple hilt. It was neither the sharpest nor the most impressive of the lot, but it sat comfortably in his hand and didn't have the flaws he detected in some of the others. Hidden fractures in the metal or bindings that would loosen with use.

Hell, he even decided to run his Qi through every single one he picked up, allowing him to sense them much better, than with mere eyesight or perception, making the Elder rub his beard in interest, as Most disciples he had seen just grabbed one at random, leading those that returned, to return a broken weapon, needing to pay their mission points as punishment.

As Cheng was handed back the small jade, the elder fixed him with a piercing stare. "The sect doesn't waste resources sending disciples on missions they can't complete.

But neither does it coddle them. Your success or failure is your own."

"This disciple understands. Thank you for you wise words, Elder."

Cheng spoke, bowing once more, cupping his hands. It didn't hurt to be respectful, especially to ones that could turn him into paste with a wave of their hand.

"Good." The elder made a notation in a ledger on his desk, that too made of jade, then stamped it with a seal. "All items are registered to your name. The weapons and tools are sect property. They must be returned upon completion of your mission. Consumption items need not be accounted for if used appropriately."

Outside, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the sect grounds. Jiang Cheng stood for a moment at the top of the grand staircase, looking out over the world beyond the sect's boundaries. Tomorrow, he would descend these steps not as a servant of the sect's menial needs, a hair's away from exiting the sect, but as a cultivator on an official mission.

It was a small distinction perhaps, but significant.

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The path ahead would not be easy. Cheng harbored no illusions about that. But difficulty was merely another form of opportunity for those prepared to seize it.

With that thought firmly in mind, Jiang turned back toward the outer disciples' quarters. He had preparations to complete before tomorrow's departure.