Tax Collection

As Li Wei stands in the stillness of his cave, the weight of the letter in his hand feels like a harbinger of something ominous. "Clearly this is from Senior Huo," he thinks, the familiar style of the message unmistakable. His mind races, each thought more unsettling than the last. "This sounds like a trap. Could I be walking into my grave?" The question echoes in his mind, fraught with heavy implications.

The thought of going to the designated cave fills Li Wei with a profound sense of dread. The number of the cave seems to reverberate in his thoughts, a silent and potent warning. It is a stark reminder of the potential dangers that lurk, risks that now appear to be closing in on him.

The congratulations in the letter, intended as a reward, now morph into a thinly veiled threat in Li Wei's mind. The invitation to Cave 129, which should be a straightforward instruction, is shrouded in layers of doubt and fear. 

"Walking into a trap set by Senior Huo... no way," he thinks anxiously. The idea of being ensnared by Senior Huo fills him with dread.

"Survival has to be my priority," 

Li Wei unconsciously reaches up to touch the stump where his ear once was, a physical reminder of his previous encounter with Senior Huo. As he feels the scar tissue, he thinks, "If I confront this head-on, it will be the end of me." His thoughts are heavy with fear and apprehension.

"Senior Huo won't hesitate to kill me if he sees fit," he concludes, the reality of his vulnerability within the sect starkly apparent.

"Putting my fate in the hands of Senior Huo is foolish," he muses internally. "I have no defences against him. If he wished, he could easily kill me."

The reality of his situation is stark and undeniable. The physical reminder of his vulnerability – the missing ear – is a constant nudge towards caution. "I will die if I enter that cave," he acknowledges with a sense of dread.

His mind races as he considers his options. "I must reach the foundational establishment before I see Senior Huo again," he resolves. This goal seems like the only viable path to safety. "Then he can't kill me without consequence." 

"I need to get out of here, now," he resolves, urgency taking hold. The encounter with the skeleton and the arrival of the letter, these events have only intensified his sense of paranoia and the imperative to protect himself.

"I have to find a sect assignment that takes me far away. " Such an assignment could give Li Wei a legitimate reason to leave without arousing suspicion, offering Li Wei a chance to distance himself from the danger he now feels acutely.

Li Wei begins to prepare, his movements quick and efficient. He gathers his belongings, each item a necessity. His mind works through the logistics, planning each step with care. Once a place of solitude and contemplation, the cave now feels like a cage from which he must escape.

Li Wei grabs a large sack and starts filling it. First, he places the sack filled with pills inside. Li Wei pauses, his hand hovering over the open sack of pills. He reaches in, fingers curling around a large handful. The pills feel cool and hard against his skin. He carefully brings them out, the sound of them gently clicking together, filling the quiet space of the cave. With deliberate movements, he places them into a pocket inside his robe. The pocket bulges slightly, the pills nestled securely within. Then, he adds the herbs best for treating wounds. After that, he puts in the bone spire manual, the flint and steel and his extra robes. Finally, he folds his linen bedding and adds it to the sack. Once everything is in, Li Wei ties the sack, making a knot by looping the top part over and pulling it tight.

"There goes my plan of studying the bone spire manual today. Oh well, I've got to act fast and get the fuck out of here."

"I'll head to the Internal Affairs Hall and see if there's a sect assignment available. If not, then I'll need to reassess and weigh my options again."

Li Wei places the sack in the centre of the cave. It sits there, ready for him to take it quickly if needed.

Li Wei begins descending the mountain, a path he has traversed many times. The trail winds steeply, zigzagging through.

The ground underfoot is uneven and challenging, a mix of soil and rock. He steps carefully, his feet finding purchase on the firm earth and the occasional loose stone that rolls away under his weight. The descent is gradual but constant.

Finally, the mountain gives way to flatter land, and the sect's buildings come into view. Li Wei heads straight for the Internal Affairs Hall.

Li Wei finds himself in the Internal Affairs Hall amidst a throng of disciples. The disciples vary in appearance and demeanour – some stand tall and confident, their cultivation levels evident in their bearing, while others are more reserved, their posture less assured. The hum of conversation fills the air, a mix of discussions about missions, cultivation, and sect gossip.

Li Wei joins the queue for sect missions. The line moves slowly, each disciple ahead of him engaging with the clerk, a foundational establishment cultivator. This clerk commands respect and a certain degree of wariness from those approaching.

Li Wei contemplates the pills he carries. To a foundational establishment cultivator, these bone pills are of negligible value. "If it takes me hundreds to reach a new level at this stage, how many does it take them? Thousands?" he thinks. The scale of cultivation at the foundational establishment level is vastly different, and the requirements are far more demanding.

He considers the effort and resources required for such cultivators to advance. "It must take many entire mortal skeletons to advance," he muses. The thought of how many lives might be needed for a foundational establishment cultivator to progress is sobering, a stark reminder of the darker aspects of the Bone Ash Sect.

Despite the relative insignificance of his pills to someone of the clerk's stature, Li Wei recalls his last interaction where a similar bribe was accepted. "Although it's insignificant to the clerks, the last one accepted my bribe of only a couple of pills," he remembers. 

"Best not to offer too many as it may draw attention to myself," he thinks. Li Wei knows his limitations as a cultivator and the need for discretion. Manufacturing bone pills is not a skill at his level, and attracting scrutiny could lead to unwanted questions and complications. As he inches closer to the clerk, his mind is a mix of strategy and caution, ready to negotiate his way to a mission that could take him far from the impending dangers he senses.

Time stretches as Li Wei waits in line. The hall's atmosphere thickens with the slow, rhythmic pacing of time. Disciples shift on their feet, their movements subtle yet revealing impatience. The clerk's interactions with each disciple ahead are methodical, his movements showing a blend of duty and monotony. The wooden table, marred with use, is a testament to countless similar exchanges. Light shifts through the windows, casting an ever-changing pattern on the floor. The sounds of conversation blend into a continuous hum, punctuated by the occasional sharper note of a raised voice or a laugh. Li Wei's eyes observe the surroundings, noting the nuances of each interaction, the clerk's reactions, and his fellow disciples' mannerisms. Each minute feels elongated, filled with anticipation and the subtle dynamics of the sect's inner workings.

Li Wei stands at the front of the queue, facing the clerk with a respectful demeanour. "Li Wei, 8th level Qi cultivation, greets Senior," he introduces himself formally, ensuring he states his cultivation level as is customary in such interactions.

Simultaneously, he subtly slides ten bone pills across the table, a discreet but straightforward offering to sweeten his request. "Senior, I seek a mission far afield, to broaden my horizons as advised by my senior," he adds, his voice steady and earnest.

Now, with a heightened interest, the clerk narrows his eyes slightly at Li Wei. "And who might this wise Senior be?" he asks, his tone implying that the answer could influence his decision.

"Senior Huo," Li Wei answers, hoping that the name Huo is well-known and influential in the sect, lending credence to his request.

The clerk acknowledges it with a slight nod. He leans back, perusing through a giant ledger before him. "There's a mission in the Sect's YunShui market," he says, his voice reflecting the routine nature of the task. "It involves overseeing the trade of medicinal herbs and ensuring the sect's interests are protected. You'll be required to negotiate with local merchants, collect taxes, and report any discrepancies or unlawful activities."

Li Wei listens, but his mind is on a more distant assignment. "I'm terribly sorry, Senior; I was hoping for something more distant," he insists gently, maintaining his respectful composure.

The clerk, visibly irked by Li Wei's persistence, sighs deeply. "Respect for your senior buys that much I guess," he mutters, flipping through more pages in his ledger. "There's a mission for tax collection in the mortal kingdoms. It's more demanding. Two others are already assigned; you will join them. Your group is responsible for collecting tributes of a kingdom. You leave immediately at midday. Report to the assembly hall." 

Li Wei bows in acknowledgement, satisfied with this more distant assignment. "Most generous, Senior. This suits me well," he responds, accepting the mission.

As the clerk hands over a small, intricately carved coin – a token representing the official assignment – his tone becomes sharper. "Tell Senior Huo to be more generous next time. I'm not asking for grade 2 pills here, but at least a grade 1 pill for favours." His words blend admonition and expectation, setting a clear message for future dealings.

Li Wei takes the coin. He nods in agreement, storing the coin safely. With the assignment secured and the clerk's expectations clearly communicated, he steps away, his thoughts already on the preparations needed for his impending journey to the mortal kingdoms.

As Li Wei leaves, he muses over the significance of pill grades in the sect, pondering the potential of his newfound resources. "What power might graded pills unlock?" he wonders, envisioning the possibilities ahead with his skeletons.

"The pill I had before was definitely a grade 1 pill," he muses to himself, a sense of realisation dawning on him. "That's the only explanation for its effectiveness." His mind delves into the memory of its impact, the way it had significantly bolstered his cultivation. The distinction in the pill's grade becomes a critical insight, shedding light on the potency and value of such resources within the sect.