Chapter 15

The Mist Valley mission board looked as if someone had hurled every petty chore in the sect at it and walked away whistling. Disciples swarmed the planks, jostling for flyers that promised meager Contribution Points in exchange for bruises, tedium—or both.

Mingyue, Li Mei, and Chen Guang arrived as a trio of mild chaos: Li Mei clutching her worry beads, Chen Guang swinging a shovel like a cudgel, and Mingyue nursing the faintest tea-steam burn on her wrist (courtesy of one phoenix sneeze).

She scanned the fluttering talismans.
Escort junior herb pickers—boring.
Clean Spirit-Beast stables—smelly.
Mid-rank rapid-response demon-weed purge—requires Foundation Establishment. Pass.

Then one slip glowed faintly with residual frost-blue runes:

Emergency Gathering: Cloudcap Mushrooms
Site: Mist-Shroud Grotto.
Hazards: Hallucinogenic spores, Spore Toads, unstable mist formations.
Reward: 18 Contribution Points per person, bonus for intact caps.

Eighteen points each. That was almost two Qi-Recovery pills—or a whole week’s worth of bland cafeteria meals with side dishes.

“Mine,” Mingyue declared. She yanked the talisman free. “Team of three allowed. Congratulations, you’re both drafted.”

Chen Guang grinned. “Mushrooms? Easy!”
Li Mei paled. “Those mushrooms cause nightmares if you breathe the spores!”
“Nightmares are just discount exposure therapy,” Mingyue said briskly. “Bring a damp scarf.”

The grotto squatted halfway up the valley wall, its mouth exhaling ribbons of pearlescent fog that swallowed noise and light alike. An abandoned outer-sect way-station marked the entrance—half-collapsed now, but its perimeter array stones still flickered weakly.

Mingyue knelt and brushed dust off a keystone. “Basic mist-stabilizer array. Sloppy.” She pressed two fingers to the rune, threaded a trickle of ice-root qi, and the glyph snapped from flickering to steady. The fog along the threshold calmed, revealing a narrow path slick with moss.

“You fix formations too?” Chen Guang whispered.
“Only when they offend me aesthetically.”

They tied soaked scarves over their mouths, then ventured in.

Inside, cloudcaps pulsed on every surface—umbrella-wide mycelial platforms giving off a soft blue bioluminescence. The air smelled like wet mint and old dreams.

Xiao Zhu rustled in Mingyue’s core, eager. No fire, she warned. Everything here is basically flammable sedative. The chick sulked but stayed quiet.

They worked quickly—Li Mei using small shears to snip caps, Chen Guang prying loose thicker stalks, Mingyue applying a dusting of spirit-salt to keep the mushrooms dormant.

Half a basket later, the grotto rumbled. A low bwomp echoed—like someone plucked a monstrous lute string.

Spore Toads.

Three of them oozed from deeper mist—tire-sized bodies, warty vents pulsing yellow spores.

Chen Guang hefted his shovel. “I’ve got—”

“No blunt trauma!” Mingyue hissed. “They pop like dandelions filled with fear gas.”

One toad croaked; a spore cloud belched toward Li Mei. Mingyue flicked her wrist—newly forged needle gleaming—and pinned the vent shut. Another snap-throw sealed a second vent. She dashed forward, stomped a pressure point behind the creature’s eye ridge, and it sagged unconscious.

The second toad lunged for Chen Guang. Xiao Zhu trilled in her soul, sending a precise thread of flame through Mingyue’s meridians and out her fingertip; she scorched a semicircle on the floor. The mist ignited in a controlled whoomph, forcing the toad to retreat. Chen Guang followed with an earth-root stomp that toppled a stalactite onto its back—non-explosive, thankfully.

The third toad—bigger, smarter—bounded past them, aiming for the baskets.

“Oh, not my paycheck.” Mingyue drew a jade slip the size of a playing card—Jiang Feng’s earlier “gift for emergencies.” She slapped it to the cave wall; runes blossomed into a quick-weave barrier. The toad hit an invisible net, croaked in confusion, and slid comically into a puddle.

Mingyue darted in, jabbed two needles, and the beast went limp.

Breathless silence.

Li Mei sagged. “I… I didn’t faint!”
“That’s growth,” Mingyue praised. She eyed their haul—still intact. “Let’s go before the cave invents new wildlife.”

Mission Hall, Dusk

The duty elder inspected their crates, eyed the sleeping, hog-tied Spore Toad trio Chen Guang had insisted on dragging back (“waste not; Beast Hall pays for live specimens”), and finally stamped their tokens.

“Eighteen points each… plus hazard bonus, three each… and five each for live captures.” He harrumphed. “Outer disciples these days. Try not to die.”

Total: 26 points per person.

Mingyue tried not to grin like a bandit. Her balance leapt to 30 points—almost enough for a private meditation hour and a cheap pill case. Progress.

Jiang Feng’s Pavilion, Night

She arrived still smelling of mint-fog and amphibian misery. Jiang Feng glanced at her muddy boots, raised one elegant brow. “Prosperous outing?”

“Profitable.” She produced a single perfect cloudcap. “Bonus: prime medicinal specimen. Thought you could infuse it for whatever immortal detox tea you drink.”

He accepted it, fingers brushing hers—cool meeting warm. “Your qi is livelier,” he noted. “And something in you feels… brighter.”

Mingyue coughed. “Ah. Xiao Zhu helped. Team effort. Also we may have invented toad-wrangling as a joint hobby.”

As if summoned, the chick projected a triumphant chirp through their link. Jiang Feng’s lips twitched—a ghost of a smile.

“You’re adapting quickly,” he said. “But tread carefully. Success attracts eyes—some friendly, some… not.”

As if on cue, a messenger talisman zipped through the pavilion shield and hovered. Mingyue caught it. The wax seal bore the Mist Valley crest and a side-mark of the Inner Disciplinary Hall.

Disciple Shen Mingyue is hereby summoned tomorrow at dawn for official review regarding unsanctioned array usage within sect bounds.

She groaned. “I fix one wobbly rune and net a tribunal? Seriously?”

Jiang Feng’s gaze hardened. “Inner Hall politics. Prepare. I’ll coach you on the walk-back—practical etiquette, optimal counters.”

Mingyue straightened, determination sparking. “Bring it. I just fought weaponized mushrooms. How bad can sect suits be?”

Xiao Zhu chirped ominously, like a tiny gong announcing incoming drama.