It started with soup.
Again.
Baek-Ha slid the bowl in front of him like it was treasure. Sim Gwan eyed it suspiciously. Steam curled upward, pungent with boiled roots, dried goat meat, and something he couldn't identify.
"It's medicinal," she said.
"You say that like it's edible."
She grinned. "You'll thank me after you stop pissing blood."
Sim took a sip. His tongue recoiled. "Is this… fermented ginseng?"
"And pickled scorpion."
He paused. "Why the hell would anyone pickle a scorpion?"
"You're in a fifth-rate sect on a mountain that smells like mold. Be grateful we have pickles."
---
Rain drizzled over the Howling Tiger compound, soft and constant. The rooftiles clicked like dice shaking in a gambler's hand. Sim stood under the eaves, watching it fall.
There was a kind of quiet he liked in this world. When the yelling stopped. When the sparring ceased. When everyone remembered they were, at the end of the day, just human.
Baek-Ha joined him. She had a peach in her hand half-eaten, pit showing. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to.
The quiet was enough.
Then a boy stumbled into the courtyard.
Dripping wet, robes clinging to him like paper. He was panting, eyes wide. One of the Outer Disciples. Maybe fifteen. Fresh.
"Sim Gwan!" he shouted.
Sim turned slowly. "That's new."
"You've been summoned. Mission posting. Elder Han wants you."
Baek-Ha looked at him like he'd farted in a shrine. "You got a mission?"
"I'm as confused as you."
---
The outer hall smelled like wet dogs and bitter tea.
Elder Han sat at his desk, robes hiked up around his ankles, a towel over his head. He looked like a man in a losing fight with mold.
"You," Han grunted, not even looking up.
Sim bowed.
"You're delivering this." He slid a small, cloth-wrapped bundle across the desk.
"To whom?"
"To Mistress Seo of the Violet Garden. Third town over. Two days' walk. Don't open it. Don't lose it. Don't die."
Sim blinked. "Why me?"
"Because the guy I usually send broke his leg doing Flying Lotus kicks in the rain."
"…That sounds about right."
Han squinted at him. "You're not important enough to be missed if you screw this up. Don't make me regret it."
---
Baek-Ha met him at the gates.
"You're going alone?" she asked, shocked.
"I'm flattered by your concern."
"I just don't want to take over kitchen duty while you rot in a ditch."
She handed him a small wrapped bundle dried meat, a flask of broth, and something sharp-smelling.
"Pill?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Sort of. Just eat it if you get stabbed."
Sim took the road with the rain in his hair, the package under his arm, and one hand always resting near the dull blade tied to his hip.
He wasn't ready for what waited outside the sect walls.
But he went anyway.
---
The world was bigger than he remembered.
Towns were clustered between sharp peaks and misty forests. Traders rode with weapons. Children ran barefoot with sticks shaped like swords. Even the peasants had martial stances low, instinctive, the kind of posture that said "I've seen blood before."
Cultivation changed the world. Not with flashy techniques. But with eyes that were just a little too calm and footsteps that landed too lightly.
The third town Jungho sat in a valley between two rivers. Old stone walls. Clay-roof homes. An open-air market that smelled like fish and wet earth.
He found Violet Garden easily. It wasn't subtle.
A towering wooden arch, painted plum, marked the entrance. Inside: flowers, vines, perfumes thick enough to make his head spin.
And women.
Dozens of them, in flowing robes, lounging in courtyards and shaded halls.
It was a brothel.
A very expensive one.
Sim swallowed and approached the front gate.
A young woman looked him over. Her gaze was bored, but calculating. "Delivery?"
"From the Howling Tiger Sect. For Mistress Seo."
"Wait."
Minutes passed.
Then she arrived.
Mistress Seo was not young. Not old, either. Just… dangerous.
Hair black as night, pinned with jade combs. Eyes like wet ink. Every step she took made the rain stop just around her.
She accepted the package, unwrapped it briefly, nodded.
"Stay the night," she said simply. "It's dangerous to travel after dusk."
Sim blinked. "Is that an order or a suggestion?"
She looked him over.
"...A suggestion. For now."
---
The room was nicer than the sect leader's quarters.
Silk sheets. Oil lamps. Warm food. Even the soup had meat.
He sat stiffly, unsure if this was a reward or a trap.
Then the door slid open.
A woman entered. Not Seo. Someone younger. No name given. She poured him tea, set down a towel, lit the lamp.
And left.
Sim exhaled.
No danger yet.
But he was wrong.
The danger didn't knock.
It kicked the door in.
---
Three men in dark robes stormed the room.
No emblems. No words. Just movement.
One drew a dagger.
Sim rolled off the bed, kicked the table into the first man's knees, grabbed his dull training blade.
Block.
Twist.
Step back.
The second man came in swinging. Sim ducked barely. Blade hissed past his ear. He swung wide, slashed and caught air. His foot slipped.
The third man punched him in the ribs.
Pain. Sharp. Familiar.
His hand clenched instinctively. He felt the qi stir.
Pain into flow.
He screamed.
Not in fear.
In focus.
His qi surged, hotter than ever. He let it burn, let it rush to his shoulder.
He slammed his elbow into the man's face. Felt the crunch.
The first attacker recovered swung. Sim raised his arm took the cut. Blood.
But the qi moved with the blood.
He channeled it.
His blade cut across the attacker's leg not deep, but enough.
The man fell.
The others pulled back.
Mistress Seo appeared in the hallway, calm, composed.
"...Trash," she muttered.
With one flick of her sleeve, the hallway filled with perfume. It hit the men like smoke.
They collapsed.
Sim staggered.
"Who… were they?"
Seo looked at him. "You shouldn't have come alone."
"I was told to deliver a package."
She nodded.
"And now you've delivered blood."
---
That night, Sim bled on silk sheets.
His side was open. His arm bandaged. His vision blurred.
But his qi?
It moved stronger.
More responsive.
He had taken pain. Used it. Guided it.
He wasn't winning yet.
But he was learning.
He was growing.
And pain would be his master.
---
[Cultivation: Late Qi Gathering - Breakthrough Pending]