Hong Yiting was overwhelmed with emotion as she watched the cultivator, their benefactor take the bag of silver off her hand.
Joy swelled in her chest but more than anything, it was relief.
She had grown up begging, scraping by each day with nothing to her name.
Yet through the entire journey back, not once had the thought of pocketing even a single piece of silver crossed her mind.
On the whole way, the only thought that permeated her head to was return the silver fully intact. Even praying no bandits show up on their route to rob them.
The words "well done" fell lightly—yet they struck her harder than anything she had ever endured.
Hong Yiting froze and for a heartbeat, she forgot how to breathe.
Scream? Laugh? Cry?
She didn't know how to react.
The cultivator's hand still rested on her head, warm and steady, as if a reminder that everything in front of her was real.
Suddenly the world seemed to erupt as cheers burst out around her like a tidal wave.
