Daily life of a cultivation judge-Chapter 1055: Did the Order finally act on my suggestion?

Yang Qing stood in silence, allowing the sanctity of Sage Mountain to envelop him, before finally releasing the last silver scroll cradled in his palms. As if guided by an unseen force, the scroll drifted gently from his grip, gliding to its designated place before disappearing beneath the mountain's grounds.

He watched it vanish, a reluctant sigh escaping his lips. The unique bond he now shared with the mountain, forged through his scroll, had granted him an intimate awareness of its governing principles and laws.

One such principle dictated that these scrolls could not exist beyond the bounds of Sage Mountain. It wasn't a matter of the scrolls' owners refusing their removal or some other restriction that he had seen commonly placed by institutions when it came to such matters, but rather —it was the very nature of their existence that made it difficult to leave with them.

The scrolls were inextricably tied to the mountain's environment and its intricate laws. It was what formed them and kept them in the state they were in. Outside this sanctuary, they would dissipate into motes of light the moment they left its confines. As such, their knowledge could only be accessed here.

Though he found this limitation regrettable, it was not without consolation. Beyond the treasure trove of cultivation arts now available to him thanks to his newfound status as a creator, he had uncovered a significant boon. Yang Qing learned he could access Sage Mountain at most, four times in a year, entirely on his own authority.

The mysterious scroll tubing he had acquired from that enigmatic hut served both as permission and as a key.

For reasons still unclear, Sage Mountain could host only one person at a time—a detail revealed to him on his very first introduction to its secrets and its profound workings.

That rule remained unchanged even with his newfound status and connection to the mountain. Previously, Yang Qing had assumed that Sage Mountain was occupied almost every single day, its hallowed grounds always hosting someone.

However, he now realized that wasn't the case. There were periods when the mountain stood empty, and thanks to the tubing in his possession, he could now discern exactly when those periods occurred. With the spell inscribed within it, he could enter Sage Mountain during its vacant moments and cultivate in its unparalleled environment.

As a creator, he was granted up to four entries into Sage Mountain each year, provided it was unoccupied. Each visit was restricted to no more than four hours, but even that limited time filled Yang Qing with uncontainable excitement.

Even if he had been allowed just one hour per visit, it would have been enough to leave him buzzing with joy. The benefits of cultivating here for an hour were equivalent to a week of arduous cultivation elsewhere—perhaps even three days if he used a prime location like the celestial nesting weaver's nest.

The bird may have had a foul personality, but its nest was nothing short of a heavenly treasure. It was one of the key reasons he managed to break through to the palace realm as early as he did. Of course, this was a fact he would take to the grave before admitting it to that bird.

Gratitude toward the celestial nesting weaver? He would sooner work tirelessly for months without pay than sing that smug bird some praise.

Unwilling to let thoughts of the weaver dampen his mood, Yang Qing turned his focus back to the present, where everything seemed to be going his way.

Since stepping into Sage Mountain, blessings had come in an unending stream. His cultivation art had risen in rank, and with it came benefits that exceeded even his expectations. The connection he now shared with Sage Mountain was one such blessing, bringing with it invaluable perks. Then there was the parchment—a treasure baptized by the world's laws and principles. To him, it was just as precious as his newfound access to this sacred ground.

All in all, it had been a remarkably productive two days. Even if the coming week brought him a swarm of problematic cases, keeping him occupied without a moment's rest, Yang Qing felt certain he wouldn't be too bothered. After all, he had his scroll tubing to sneak a glance at during breaks, admiring it in secret to lift his spirits. And if that wasn't enough? A few covert sniffs of the parchment would surely do the trick.

With a heart full of gratitude, Yang Qing thanked Wei Shen for his indulgence. Going by time, he had long exceeded his stay here by more than just a few minutes, yet the purple guard mentioned none of it.

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They exchanged a few pleasantries before parting, with Wei Shen, ever the magnanimous senior, offering to share his insights into Yang Qing's cultivation art. This, he explained, was a gesture to repay Yang Qing's generosity in openly allowing him to study it.

Yang Qing, knowing the value of such an opportunity, wasn't hypocritical enough to refuse. Wei Shen was a cultivator on the verge of breaking through to the soul formation realm. Any insights he offered would be invaluable. Even as the art's creator, Yang Qing understood that Wei Shen's cultivation base and the depth of comprehension it afforded him would likely reveal nuances and layers that Yang Qing himself had yet to perceive.

But Wei Shen didn't stop there. Knowing Yang Qing's reputation and preferences, he presented an additional token of appreciation—something far more aligned with Yang Qing's tastes.

And aligned it was.

Wei Shen handed him a membership card to the Dreamscape Swallow's Nest.

Dreamscape Swallow's Nest was an elite, rank-two organization, far more prestigious and established than the Golden Bamboo Pavilion. A consortium born of necessity and ingenuity, it was forged by an alliance of inns, pavilions, tea houses, restaurants, and treasury houses. What began as a desperate union to stay afloat had grown into a thriving network that commanded influence across the continent.

The consortium catered to cultivators, offering them respite and peace of mind. Whether it was a serene inn, a private courtyard, an exquisite pavilion, a tranquil tea house, or even a secure vault for safeguarding treasures, the Dreamscape Swallow's Nest provided it all.

Their success lay not only in the quality of their services but also in their reach. With countless affiliated establishments spread across the continent, they became the go-to haven for weary cultivators. Over time, their reputation grew to rival the greatest powers, and the consortium cemented its place as a long-standing powerhouse in its own right.

Recent records indicated they had 14 domain experts among their ranks, with six of them already in the latter stages. If the circulating rumors were true, it wouldn't be long before one of those six ascended to the level of a soul formation expert.

Their strength, however, wasn't what brought Yang Qing to the brink of tears when Wei Shen handed him his membership card. No—it was their services. Their restaurants were renowned as some of the finest on the continent, exclusively sourcing ingredients from treasured lands.

Yang Qing had heard that a significant portion of their meat came from the Bestial Churning Sea and the adjacent Blood Charcuterie Market. Even without factoring in the skills of their chefs, the quality of the ingredients alone ensured their dishes were nothing short of exquisite.

Yang Qing, being the unrepentant glutton that he was, had once attempted to dine at one of their illustrious establishments. It was during his fledgling days as a young judge, back when his early salaries had yet to match his lofty tastes. It still had not, but that was a reality he was unwilling to face or accept.

After an embarrassing misstep at one of the White Rose Pavilion's treasure houses—where he failed even to bid for the cheapest trinket—he sought solace by indulging his appetite. Hoping to drown his sorrows, he decided to treat himself to a meal at a Dreamscape Swallow's Nest restaurant, only to face another harsh reminder of the disparity between his ambitions and the strength of his wallet.

He wasn't naive enough to think the meals would be cheap, but he believed that, with what little he had, he could at least afford a decent meal. He was grossly mistaken. The best he could manage was cold leek soup and bread. Judging by the pitying look the waiter gave him as she served the bread, there was a good chance they had thrown it in for free.

That leek soup was, admittedly, one of the tastiest he had ever had. Yet, he was too mortified by the whole ordeal to enjoy it. He never set foot in that restaurant again. But now, with Wei Shen's card… it seemed those doors would open once more.

That card was reserved exclusively for valuable members. It granted them access to all of their services, free of charge. Yang Qing wouldn't need to hold back when ordering this time. He could eat as much as he wanted, with neither shame nor restraint.

A wise man once said, "Food has no shame." It was a sentiment Yang Qing wholeheartedly agreed with, given his own shameless nature. Naturally, he accepted Wei Shen's card without hesitation, marveling at the kind of wealth Purple Guards must earn to casually own such a priceless privilege.

That thought was fleeting. However curious he might have been, it wasn't something Yang Qing felt strongly about pursuing. Even if he discovered that Purple Guards earned fifty times his current salary, he would never consider joining their ranks.

Protecting the most sensitive and valuable assets of the Order sounded prestigious on paper, but in practice, it was a constant invitation to trouble.

Though such sites were undoubtedly layered with countless protective measures beyond the stationed Purple Guards, Yang Qing knew that being in their position meant living with perpetual paranoia—waiting for the inevitable attack.

No amount of pay could justify that kind of stress.

With all matters settled, Yang Qing saw himself out, no longer needing Wei Shen's assistance to leave—thanks to the tubing and his newfound status within the Mountain. Taking one last look at it, he activated a spell inscribed on the tubing, his figure dissolving into silver particles before reappearing in his abode.

The grin on his face stretched wide, a sight his pesky roommate clearly didn't appreciate.

"Judging by that stupid grin, either you've scammed someone or you've just been paid. If it's the latter… the nest could use some improvements," the celestial nesting weaver quipped, its tone dripping with disdain.

Yang Qing simply whistled, his broad smile unwavering as he ignored the celestial nesting weaver's taunts.

Yang Qing walked over to the celestial nesting weaver, his sudden approach causing the bird to flinch. It tensed, readying itself for the usual barrage—a punch, some choice insults, and maybe a mouthful of spittle if Yang Qing was in a particularly bad mood.

But this time, things unfolded differently.

Instead of raising his fist or unleashing his venomous tongue, Yang Qing reached out and gently patted the celestial nesting weaver on its head. The unexpected softness left the bird stunned, its feathers puffing slightly in confusion.

Without another word, Yang Qing turned and headed toward his courtyard, a noticeable pep in his step. He whistled an off-key tune, fiddling with a rustic scroll tubing as he went, his mood seemingly untouchable.

"What's with him? Did the Order finally act on my suggestion and hypnotize him?" the celestial nesting weaver thought, its suspicious gaze fixed on Yang Qing's retreating figure.

But suspicion alone wasn't enough. It needed confirmation.

"Oi, Yang Qing! The funds for the nest! Don't even think of skimping, you cheapskate. It'll take at least ten—no, twenty thousand high-grade spirit stones! And two monarch-grade treasures! Do you hear me? I said twenty thousand!"

For all its yelling, the celestial nesting weaver's efforts were met with a single, maddening response: Yang Qing's cheerful, off-key whistling as he vanished into the courtyard.