Chapter 30: The Cost of the First Step

Chapter 30: Chapter 30: The Cost of the First Step

The notice had caught Ethan’s attention for a simple reason. Most of the postings on the board demanded something he didn’t have. Recommendations. Experience. Specialized skills.

This one didn’t. It was temporary herb-gathering work outside the market. Payment was made daily.

The requirements were simple. Healthy legs. Patience. The ability to follow instructions.

The pay wasn’t impressive, but it was steady. More importantly, it was work that someone like him could actually get. That was enough.

After writing his name beneath the notice, Ethan added another line.

Current Residence: Willow Tea House Inn — Room 7. Only then did he leave the board behind.

The sign hanging above the inn had seen better years. Several characters had faded beneath sun and rain, though enough remained to identify the place. Ethan stepped inside. The innkeeper glanced up from her ledger.

"Back already?"

"I found a job posting."

The woman grunted.

"Congratulations."

Ethan smiled faintly. Then he asked,

"I left this inn as my contact address. If someone responds to the notice, how will I know?"

The innkeeper pointed toward a shelf near the counter. Several folded slips of paper rested there.

"Messages."

"If you’re out, they leave one. I keep it until you return."

Simple. Practical. Exactly what he expected. Ethan nodded his thanks and headed upstairs.

His room looked unchanged. Satisfied that nobody had disturbed anything, he closed the door and placed the Evergreen Breath Method on the table. For several moments he simply stared at it. Five silver coins. Nearly everything he had saved during months of work at Pine Rest Inn. The price still hurt. But regret wasn’t useful. The manual was already his.

The only question now was whether it actually worked. So he sat down and opened it. The instructions weren’t complicated. Posture. Breathing. Focus. No grand secrets. No mysterious chants. Just patience.

He followed the directions exactly. Minutes passed. Nothing happened. He continued.

The room remained quiet. His breathing slowed. His back gradually became uncomfortable. His legs started complaining. Still nothing.

Another stretch of time passed. More discomfort. More waiting. At one point he almost stopped. Then he remembered how much he had paid for the manual. So he continued. Breath after breath. Minute after minute.

Then he felt it. A faint warmth. Small enough to miss if he wasn’t paying attention. It appeared somewhere beneath his chest and lingered for only a moment before fading away.

Ethan’s eyes opened immediately. The sensation was gone. But it had been real. He knew it. Slowly, he lowered his gaze toward the manual. The description matched.

The body’s first response to Qi. Not strength. Not power. Just proof.

The method worked.

Ethan sat quietly for a few moments. Then he tried again. The warmth didn’t return. Only stiffness and sore muscles greeted him. Yet the result was enough. The Evergreen Breath Method was genuine.

The realization settled heavily in his mind. Cultivation wasn’t impossible. It was simply slow. Very slow. His eyes drifted toward the section discussing support resources. Vitality Grass. Mountain Root Powder. Body Nourishing Broth. Before today, those names had been little more than words. Now they looked very different. If a tiny amount of progress required this much effort, then even small improvements would matter.

The room fell silent once more. Ethan leaned back slightly. Then a familiar thought surfaced. The Immortal Ring. Months had passed since he arrived in this world. Months of questions. Months of silence.

He closed his eyes.

"Immortal Ring."

Nothing happened. Several seconds later, glowing words appeared within his vision.

[Insufficient Authority]

The message lingered briefly before disappearing. Ethan stared at the empty space where it had been.

The answer hadn’t changed. But this time he wasn’t as frustrated. The first time he had received that response, he had possessed nothing. Now he at least stood on the threshold of cultivation.

Apparently that still wasn’t enough. Whatever authority the Ring demanded remained beyond his reach. For now.

Ethan let out a slow breath. Then he closed the manual. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

A knock sounded on his door shortly after sunrise. The innkeeper stood outside.

"Message."

Ethan accepted the folded paper. The note was short. Applicants for the herb-gathering job are to report to East Market Gate at first bell. Simple and direct. Ethan folded the note and headed out.

Eight people stood waiting near the gate when he arrived. Most looked ordinary; Laborers, travelers. People looking for work.

A thin man in gray robes eventually approached. He wasted no time.

"The work is herb gathering."

Several people visibly relaxed. The man held up a dried stem.

"Silverleaf Stem."

He pointed toward several waiting wagons.

"You gather."

"You return."

"You get paid according to quantity and quality."

No one asked questions. The wagons departed shortly afterward.

The gathering fields lay beyond the town. Low hills stretched into the distance. Colored flags marked the boundaries. The rules were simple. Stay inside the markers. Gather carefully. Do not damage the roots.

Ethan got to work. His hands moved steadily while his attention wandered elsewhere. Workers talked while gathering. Most conversations meant nothing. Some didn’t.

A merchant had recently raised herb prices.

A caravan had arrived from farther east.

Someone mentioned a small settlement near the foothills where wandering cultivators occasionally appeared.

Ethan quietly remembered everything. Information had a habit of becoming useful later.

By the time the workers returned, Ethan’s basket was reasonably full. The supervisor inspected every basket personally. When he reached Ethan’s, he examined several stems before giving a short nod.

"Acceptable."

There was no need for more words . Ethan accepted the judgment.

Payment came immediately after they returned to the market. One worker after another stepped forward. When Ethan’s turn arrived, the supervisor counted several coins into his palm.

Twelve copper coins.

Ethan looked at them briefly. A full day’s work. Not much. But not nothing either. He slipped them into his pouch.

That evening, Ethan returned to his room and opened his journal. On one page he recorded:

Income: Twelve Copper Coins

Below that he added:

Silverleaf gathering location.

Quality requirements.

Herb price rumors.

Eastern settlement mention.

Wandering cultivator sightings.

When he finished, he looked at the page for a while. The twelve copper coins rested beside the journal. Useful and necessary. Yet the notes occupied far more space than the earnings. Merchant rumors. Locations. Names. Observations.

The copper coins would eventually be spent.

The information might not. Ethan closed the journal and extinguished the lantern. That thought stayed with him long after the room had gone dark.