Joseph sat at the edge of his bed, hunched forward, hands pressed to his temples like he was trying to crack open a divine secret through sheer focus.
"Okay," he muttered, "thirty thousand sect credits. Three months."
The number sat like a mountain on his shoulders.
Three months, twelve weeks, ninety days.
He grabbed a nearby bamboo ink stylus and began scribbling invisible calculations on his palm.
200 credits a week from the sect allowance. That's not nothing, but not nearly enough.
He had 90 days.
Which meant to meet the deadline without getting bled dry week by week, he had to earn approximately 333 credits a day.
"Which is madness," he muttered, pacing now.
Then a more terrifying thought hit him—and Joseph, being Joseph, immediately ran it through modern Earth economics.
In the novel, he remembered a passing reference that 1,000 sect credits could be exchanged in some border markets for 1 gold coin—which can be used for external trade.
Gold coins in this world typically matched Earth standards in weight.
About 6.67 grams per coin.
And from the last time Joseph checked gold prices back on Earth—back before the diagnosis, the slow decline, the hospital room—6.67 grams was roughly $725 USD.
He sat down slowly.
"Thirty thousand sect credits," he whispered.
He did the math.
30 coins. Times $725.
$21,750.
"In what universe is this a reasonable fine for a rookie mistake?"
He chuckled to himself, humorless. "No, not rookie. This is professional reincarnator-level punishment."
Joseph leaned back and stared at the ceiling. His mind spun with options—dueling, sect tasks, trying to forge pills—but nothing fit his current level.
And then he remembered something.
Other than being a master cultivator, Wei Shen was a pretty good at giving massages. But there's a catch— there's always a catch. Wei Shen gave massages for free, unlike what Joseph is planning on doing.
Joseph sat up.
"…but what if I charged for it?"
The idea lit up like a spark across dry parchment.
A spar service. Muscle recovery. Massage therapy. Discreet. Elegant. Affordable.
He already had the skill—thanks to the novel.
He already had a location in mind—the Jade Pavilion Pool Courtyard, a serene space near the grand hall, often used by disciples after hard training sessions. Semi-private. Perfect visibility.
He could frame it as a recovery service. Not crude. Not indulgent. Just practical.
He began rapidly organizing it all in his head:
Business Name: Jade Pavilion Spar
Service Offered: Full-body qi-aided muscle massage and posture realignment
Location: Pool Courtyard behind the Jade Pavilion
Target Audience: Inner disciples with spiritual strain, soreness, or post-cultivation fatigue
Pricing Model: 45 sect credits per one-hour session
Bonus Offer: First session free for referrals
He could run three sessions a day. Maybe eight if he worked evenings. An hour per session, eight hours work time— typical back in his past life.
45 x 8 = 360 per day.
360 x 7 = 2,520 per week.
Multiply that across 12 weeks... he'd meet the fine.
Joseph stood.
He had the plan. He had the hands. Now he just needed customers.
And then it hit him like a bolt from a clear sky.
Yan Su.
****
Joseph practically glided to the Cultivation Hall, heart racing with anticipation and nerves. It was still early, and as expected, Yan Su was already there—sitting cross-legged on a floating mat inside the hall, surrounded by the open Soulshade blooms again.
She glanced over as he approached, her face a mix of familiarity and curiosity.
"You again," she said. "Back for more flower-watering?"
He bowed politely. "Actually… I came to offer you a gift."
She raised an eyebrow.
"I'd like to give you another massage. Free of charge."
Yan Su slowly stood, brushing her robes. "Bold. I thought we'd established that one free massage per inner disciple was the limit before this turned suspicious."
Joseph grinned nervously. "This isn't suspicious. It's strategic."
She folded her arms, intrigued. "Explain."
"I want to open a recovery service at the Jade Pavilion Pool Courtyard," Joseph said quickly. "It's called the Jade Pavilion Spar. Massage therapy—same as before. Qi-aided recovery. Spiritual tension release. But this time... I'll charge. Fair price. Professional."
Yan Su blinked. "You want to start a… business? Inside the sect?"
"Technically not forbidden," Joseph replied. "And not uncommon. Recently, Elder Gan's disciple ran a tea-and-dice lounge in the west wing for six months before they finally shut it down."
Yan Su stared at him for a moment longer. "And where do I come in?"
Joseph rubbed the back of his neck. "I need clients. You enjoyed the massage. So… I'd like to offer you another one. For free."
"And?"
He winced. "If you bring five of your friends."
Yan Su's expression went flat. "Ah. There it is. I was waiting for the catch."
"No! Not like that. Not for anything improper. Just… bring them to the courtyard pool so I can explain the service. That's it."
"You want me to bring five inner sect girls to meet you in a pool courtyard."
He blushed. "Okay, that sounds bad when you say it like that."
She narrowed her eyes.
"I just need five people to see the service exists," Joseph said quickly. "After that, word of mouth. Reputation. And I promise the massage is still professional. Spiritual-class. Same method as before."
Yan Su didn't speak.
Then: "Why are you doing this?"
Joseph paused.
"Because," he said, "I need to earn a fine. And I want to do it without dueling, bribing, or begging. This is something I can do well. I want to stand on my own merit."
She was quiet for a long moment.
Then she smirked.
"Fine. One more massage. But I choose the five girls. And if even one of them walks away unhappy…"
"You'll feed me to the Mist Path demons. Got it."
She rolled her eyes. "Tomorrow morning. I'll bring them."
Joseph bowed deeply. "Thank you."
She turned to walk away, then looked back once.
"You're serious about this?"
"As serious as my fine," he said.
She shook her head. "You're lucky you're good with your hands."
****
The next morning, the Jade Pavilion Pool Courtyard was quiet, its stone pavers still damp with mist. The sunlight barely filtered through the tree canopy above, casting glistening light over the rippling waters of the spiritual spring.
Joseph stood near a shaded bench with his robes neatly folded at his side, a clean towel over his shoulder, and his best posture forward.
He didn't wait long.
Yan Su arrived, accompanied by five inner disciples, all curious and impeccably dressed.
"Ladies," she said with mild amusement. "Meet our very own sect masseur."
The girls looked Joseph up and down.
One of them raised an eyebrow. "This is the one you said 'broke your spine in the best way'?"
Joseph gave a small bow.
"Welcome to the Jade Pavilion Spar," he said. "Spiritual massage service. One hour per session. Professional-grade. Qi-aligned. And—if booked today—45 sect credits per visit."
The girls blinked.
Yan Su grinned.
And Joseph—despite his flushed face and racing heart—knew he had taken the first real step toward paying off his fine.