Currently, Ning was traveling with a merchant caravan introduced by Old Zhou.

  As someone who had lived within the sect for over forty years and survived countless missions beyond its borders, Old Zhou’s recommendations carried real weight. If he said a caravan was reliable, then it was at least competent enough not to get its passengers killed on the first stretch of road.

  As for why Ning was in a merchant caravan in the first place?

  The reason was simple.

  He was hitchhiking to his mission location: Redhorn Village.

  Ning had learned one thing very clearly during his time in the sect,

  The outside world was dangerous.

  Not “occasionally risky,” not “slightly inconvenient,” but genuinely lethal. The kind of place where a moment of carelessness could mean death.

  Since this was his first time traveling so far beyond sect territory, Ning had no intention of charging out blindly. He wanted experience first.

  That was where merchant caravans came in.

  They weren’t particularly strong, but they were experienced. They knew which roads were safest, which routes to avoid, and which towns welcomed travelers, and which ones quietly swallowed them.

  Convincing the caravan leader had taken a bit of effort, but nothing too difficult.

  The caravan itself belonged to Hengyuan Trading Company, a mid-sized merchant group that ran routes between Blackthorn City and the outlying settlements. Since their base of operations was Blackthorn City, all he had to do was reveal his status as an outer-sect disciple.

  And, quite accidentally, let slip the jade token of Elder Shen, a “temporary loan” he had swindled from the old man for this very journey.

  That sealed the deal immediately.

  So yes, the hitchhiking process had gone smoothly. Not only because of the token, but also because Ning’s cultivation wasn’t low. At the fifth stage of Qi Condensation, he was already considered a respectable combatant.

  Among the caravan, only the leader was stronger.

  That man sat atop a supply crate near the center wagons, eyes half-closed. His name was Qiu Han, and he was a late-stage Qi Condensation cultivator.

  Ning chose not to bother him directly as the guy was busy aura farming.

  Instead, he mingled with the guards.

  “It’s pretty hot, isn’t it?” Ning said casually to a guard walking beside him.

  The man, Sun He, judging by the name stitched onto his leather vest, glanced over, mildly surprised.

  “Hot?” Sun He laughed. “You must not travel much, little brother. This is nothing.”

  Ning smiled and reached into his bag.

  “I thought so too,” he said. “That’s why I brought something to cool us down.”

  He pulled out a small ceramic flask. Frost traced faint patterns along its surface, mist curling from the mouth as he uncorked it.

  Several guards stopped walking.

  “Oh?”

  “That scent, ”

  “Spirit wine?”

  “Not exactly,” Ning said, pouring a small cup. “Frozen Breath Rice Wine. It cools the body when it’s hot, warms it when it’s cold. Perfect for travel.”

  Qiu Han opened one eye and sniffed from several steps away.

  “…Interesting.”

  Ning handed him the cup without hesitation.

  Qiu Han drank.

  Paused.

  Then opened both eyes fully.

  “Hah.” A rare smile tugged at his lips. “Good stuff.”

  That single reaction was enough.

  Within moments, Ning found himself seated among the guards during a short rest break, cups being passed around. Laughter mixed with the clink of armor and weapons. Ning didn’t drink much himself, just enough to be polite, but he listened closely.

  “You’re heading to Redhorn Village?” Sun He asked.

  “Yes,” Ning replied. “First time leaving sect territory.”

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  “That explains the manners,” another guard, Bao Lin, chuckled. “Most juniors either cling to the leader or keep their heads buried.”

  Ning shrugged lightly. “Better to learn from people who’ve actually walked the road.”

  That earned him several approving nods.

  If charisma were something that could be measured, Ning would at least not be lacking.

  As the wine loosened tongues, the conversation naturally turned to travel precautions guided subtly by Ning.

  “First rule,” Bao Lin said, tapping his saber, “never assume a road is safe just because it’s marked on a map.”

  “Second,” Sun He added, pulling out a yellow talisman, “always carry evil-exorcising charms. Even weak wandering spirits can ruin your day if you’re tired or wounded.”

  If someone had said such a thing to him in his past life, Ning would have told them to put their faith in science.

  But in this world, Ning believed in the existence of spirits.

  From what he had read, they were formed from a convergence of malevolent energy between heaven and earth, intertwined with a person’s unresolved obsessions or lingering regrets.

  Because of that, Ning leaned forward, genuinely interested.

  “Do they really work?”

  Of course, for his first time traveling far, Ning had prepared his own set, but he had never used it.

  “They don’t kill spirits,” Qiu Han said calmly. “But they repel, confuse, or delay them. Sometimes, that’s enough to survive.”

  He flicked a finger, and the talisman ignited silently, turning to ash.

  “Also,” he continued, “never camp near old wells, abandoned shrines, or crossroads after sunset. Those places attract… things.”

  Ning nodded, committing every word to memory. After all, all this sounded like a ghost story. And the first to die in these ghost stories were always those who disregarded the set rules.

  “What about bandits?” Ning asked.

  The guards laughed.

  “Bandits are honest,” Bao Lin said. “They rob you to your face.”

  “Evil cultivators,” Sun He muttered, “those are the real danger.”

  They spoke of false caravans, poisoned hospitality, inns with hidden formations carved into beams.

  Ning asked questions, not too many, not too few. Curious, but not na?ve. Careful, but not paranoid. Subtlety was an art that had always worked in situations like this.

  By the time the caravan resumed its journey, the guards were already treating him like one of their own.

  “You can ride near the middle wagons,” Qiu Han said. “Safer there.”

  “Thank you,” Ning replied sincerely. He wanted to preserve his spiritual energy as much as he could in case of emergencies.

  The journey passed without incident.

  Ning remained alert but relaxed, chatting when appropriate, observing when not. At least, he had noted down the basic dos and don'ts when you move in the wild.

  When the low stone walls of Rehorn Village finally appeared on the horizon, Ning rose from his seat.

  “This is my stop.”

  The guards nodded.

  “Stay sharp, little brother.”

  “Don’t trust cheap inns.”

  “And keep that wine handy.”

  Ning smiled, cupped his fists, and stepped down from the wagon.

  As the caravan rolled onward, he looked toward the village ahead.

  Seems my social skills haven’t rusted.

  With that thought, Ning walked forward, into Redhorn village.

  ...

  [Mission Notice]

  Recently, a group of early-stage spirit rabbits, led by a mid-stage rabbit, has been harassing the farmlands of the Mi Family. Eliminate the rabbits and prevent further damage.

  Reward: 25 spirit stones and one kilogram of Red-Striped Barley.]

  This was the mission Ning chose.

  Every outer-sect disciple was required to complete at least one red-paper mission every three years. Failure meant punishment, loss of contribution points, or worse, being demoted to peripheral rank.

  Ning, however, had chosen this mission with intent.

  The reason was simple.

  The Mi Family.

  The Mi Family was, by all accounts, a fortunate one.

  Originally, they had been nothing more than an ordinary cultivation household: three early-stage Qi Condensation cultivators, around twenty mortal members, and no real standing to speak of. But their fortune turned when one of their younger members revealed outstanding talent and successfully entered the inner sect of the Pure Qi Sect.

  There was a saying that when one became immortal, even the chickens and dogs around them would ascend. This saying perfectly showcased the Mi Family.

  With an inner-sect disciple backing them, the Mi Family’s influence expanded rapidly. Through sect affiliation, they secured land and protection near Red Horn Village, transforming from a forgettable rural family into a minor but respected local power.

  Ning had been planning to visit them for quite some time.

  The reason was the Pure Qi Sutra.

  Only two years remained before the outer-sect competition. If Ning could push the Pure Qi Sutra to its final third level before then, both his cultivation speed and combat strength would increase significantly.

  For that, raw effort alone was not enough.

  He needed insight.

  Ning had been actively searching for ways to deepen his understanding of the Pure Qi Sutra, comparing interpretations, clarifying subtle circulation principles, and refining his foundation.

  Unfortunately, Elder Shen had practiced a different primary technique during his early years. While the elder’s explanations were valuable, they could only go so far.

  However, Elder Shen had once casually mentioned something important.

  The Mi Family’s genius, before entering the inner sect, had left behind written insights on the Pure Qi Sutra. Those notes were occasionally sold or shared by the family as a means of maintaining influence and income.

  This was not the only way to obtain insight, of course.

  But it was, by far, the most cost-effective option available to Ning at his current level.

  He simply didn’t have the standing or the spirit stones to consult high-level cultivators or purchase rare annotated manuals. The Mi Family, on the other hand, occupied the perfect middle ground.

  At first, Ning had only asked Si Sihua to look out for a mission near the Redhorn Village, but now the senior sister had delivered quite a surprise.

  “I really did get lucky,” he muttered softly.

  Not only would he fulfill his mission requirement, but he would also gain an opportunity to visit the Mi Family under legitimate pretenses.

  The first thing he noticed was a red stone that was shaped like a horn at the gate of the village. Atleast, now he knew where the name came from.

  So for the next hour, Ning wandered around the village and asked some questions here and there about the Mi Family and the situation of the village as a whole.

  Normally, such information gathering would have been done in a tavern, but unfortunately, the tavern was closed, so he could only try this approach.

  After the research, Ning also finally confirmed everything was normal in the town. So, ignoring those weird gazes that he was getting, he finally came to the main residence of the Mi family.

  "Excuse me, can you tell your patriarch that the outer sect disciple of the Pure Qi sect has come for the mission?" Ning politely asked the guard.

  The guard was a mortal, but adhering to the principle of don't look down on others, he still treated him politely.

  "I-I see. I will quickly call the lord." The guard seemed flustered seeing the outer sect token, as he hurriedly walked inside.

  Ning nodded.

  It wasn't long before a middle-aged man appeared out of the door in a hurry and said something incomprehensible. "Excuse me, what is your purpose?"

  "Hmm?"

  ...

  Thanks for reading~