Daily life of a cultivation judge

Yang Qing didn't know what to think. Perhaps Bai Chen did know the full story about what transpired between his father and the Gold Earth Bank, and that's why it took him so long to reach out to them. Or maybe he didn't, and the delay was simply because the truth had only come to light on the Bluefin Spine-tailed Swift's deathbed. Or if it did spill, it did not reveal the entire story to him.

Perhaps it had only shared enough—suggesting that if anything ever happened to it, Bai Chen could seek help from the Gold Earth Bank.

Yang Qing sighed, reflecting on how he might feel about the bank if he were in Bai Chen's position and knew the whole truth. A part of him would undoubtedly harbor resentment. Though it was Bai Chen's father who ultimately made the choice, knowing that wouldn't make it any easier to accept. If Yang Qing were in Bai Chen's shoes, he'd likely feel bitter—not enough to retaliate, but certainly enough to keep his distance. Perhaps he'd even go as far as collecting what was owed and cutting ties with the bank altogether.

He wondered if that was exactly what Bai Chen had done. After all, it was only after meeting with the Gold Earth Bank that Bai Chen established the Bluefin Spine-tailed Swift Escort Agency.

Forming an escort agency from scratch would have required immense resources. Acquiring ferries alone was costly, but retrofitting them with a range of specialized arrays—protection arrays, isolation arrays, meditation-promoting arrays, and others—would have added a significant financial burden. Beyond that, equipping the ferries with the necessary supplies and cultivating an experience suitable for demanding clients would have been no small feat.

All of this would have cost a fortune. But even with the resources to establish the agency, Bai Chen would have faced another daunting challenge: attracting clients. Cultivators were notoriously paranoid and, by extension, creatures of habit. Few would willingly trust a brand-new escort agency they had no prior experience with or hadn't heard about through trusted recommendations.

Other businesses, like alchemy shops selling herbs and potions, talisman shops, or blacksmiths, could thrive even if they were new. In those cases, the quality of the product spoke for itself. As long as the products were decent, most customers wouldn't concern themselves too much with how long the business had been operating. But an escort agency was an entirely different matter.

When it came to an escort agency, clients were essentially placing their lives in its hands. Boarding one of their ferries meant surrendering their safety and security to the agency and its crew. That kind of trust was a rare commodity among cultivators. If given the choice, most would avoid using an escort agency they hadn't previously vetted or heard of.

Their paranoia and actions were understandable. Boarding a ferry operated by a new escort agency carried significant risks. Such agencies were prone to teething issues—choosing unsafe routes that exposed clients to unnecessary danger, for example. For those on the run or hiding for any reason, there was always the risk that their information could be sold to the highest bidder. Worse still, the agency itself might be a front for a heinous organization, turning unwitting clients into victims.

There was no shortage of reasons to be wary of a new escort agency. The only way such a business could gain traction was if it was founded by a famous cultivator renowned for their integrity or endorsed by organizations with impeccable reputations. Most clients, understandably, preferred the latter. This was exactly how Bai Chen managed to get his escort agency off the ground.

The Gold Earth Bank vouched for him, and Yang Qing was willing to bet they had also bankrolled the venture. After all, they owed a debt to Bai Chen's father, and since he was no longer alive to collect it, the responsibility fell to his only living relative: his son, Bai Chen.

There was also the matter of one of the bank's three domain experts being Bai Chen's father's former master. Whether or not the expert had cared deeply for his disciple—or perhaps even thought of him as little more than a pawn for the bank's greater good—repaying the debt was almost inevitable once he learned of Bai Chen's existence.

It wasn't necessarily a matter of conscience. For cultivators of such high standing, karmic entanglements became a greater concern as they climbed the realms. Ignoring such debts could have repercussions on their path to advancement.

The fewer karmic entanglements a cultivator had, the better it was for their path. This was why some sought to repay any debts they owed, while others sought to erase them entirely. Some even avoided such entanglements altogether, like ascetic sects such as the Spiritual Temperance Sect. Rarely interacting with the world beyond their sect's gates, they ignored even the lands within their territories, severing ties to avoid accumulating karmic bonds.

To support the claim about karmic entanglements, Yang Qing recalled a story he had once heard about a certain soul formation expert. Before breaking through to the soul formation realm, she sought out a hunter from her childhood village who had saved her from being mauled by a wild boar. At the time, she had been just a mortal child, far removed from the lofty cultivation she later attained.

It was only when she was preparing to break through to the soul formation realm that she remembered the debt. She embarked on a search for the hunter, though she knew it was unlikely he was still alive after all the thousands of years that had passed since the incident.

Her fears proved true—when she finally located traces of the hunter, she discovered he had died thousands of years earlier. As mighty as peak domain experts were, reviving someone long dead was beyond even their abilities. But despite this, the soul formation expert did not let the matter rest. Instead, she sought out the hunter's descendants.

While a peak domain expert couldn't revive the dead, they certainly possessed the ability to find someone, even if it was someone they had never met. That soul formation expert eventually managed to trace one of the hunter's descendants—a sixteenth-generation descendant, no less—who was working as a menial laborer in a rank five sect, tending to spiritual herbs and plants in its farms.

When she found him, he was nearing his forties, with a cultivation level stuck at the third stage of the Qi Refinement realm. His limited aptitude was evident, which explained why he was relegated to such a modest role within the sect.

But despite his lack of talent, the soul formation expert was determined to repay the life-saving debt she owed. She took him in as her disciple and made an extraordinary decision—to delay her breakthrough to the soul formation realm until she had helped that descendant reach the palace realm.

Although a peak domain expert couldn't guarantee the creation of another domain expert, they certainly had the means to nurture a palace realm cultivator, provided they were willing to invest their time, effort, and resources into the endeavor. And that was precisely what she did.

She dedicated everything at her disposal—her wealth, her influence, and her knowledge—to elevate him. It took a staggering 3,800 years, but she achieved her goal. Despite his poor aptitude, the vast and wondrous world offered treasures and mystical objects capable of transforming mediocrity into brilliance.

There were resources that could alter one's natural roots, enhancing talent from mediocre to exceptional, and the soul formation expert spared no effort in securing them for her disciple.

Such treasures were exceedingly rare and highly coveted, and with good reason. Many cultivators went their entire lives without even glimpsing one. Yet to a highly motivated peak domain expert on the verge of breaking through to the soul formation realm, acquiring such an object—no matter how impossible the task seemed—was within the realm of possibility.

And she did find it.

With that treasure, she altered the fate of someone who might never have progressed beyond the Qi Refinement realm, let alone reached Foundation Establishment. That descendant, who was once a mere caretaker of spiritual herbs, ascended to the palace realm under her guidance. The resources she poured into the effort, if redirected elsewhere, might well have produced one or even two domain experts. This underscored the extraordinary lengths she went to in order to repay a life-saving debt.

Afterward, she successfully overcame her tribulation and broke through to the soul formation realm. Yang Qing couldn't be certain whether helping that descendant had directly influenced her success, but he believed she thought it had—her actions made that much clear.

The descendant went on to establish a clan, which, even now, remained active as a rank-three clan—a living testament to her repayment of that karmic debt.

"Maybe the Gold Earth Bank is doing the same for Bai Chen," Yang Qing mused.

Regardless of their reasons, it was clear that much of Bai Chen's success in founding his escort agency could be attributed to the Gold Earth Bank's influence and support. Even his agency's establishment in Gold Eagle Town owed a great deal to the Gold Earth Bank, who vouched for them to the Order, ensuring their consideration that led to their eventual acceptance.

"If they knew he was missing, would they act?" Yang Qing murmured thoughtfully.