Unintended Cultivator

Sen’s excitement about his new knowledge burned bright in him for a few days. Then, he came to, what was for him, a startling conclusion. While his new knowledge about the stages of cultivation had filled a deep-seated need in him, it hadn’t actually changed anything. That knowledge hadn’t made him any better at cultivation. It didn’t alter his opinion of cultivation. It had no influence on how they trained him. Most importantly, it hadn’t changed his goals in any obvious way. When Sen considered it deeply, he still just wanted to see the ocean and explore the world. He wasn’t more committed to cultivation or to possibly, one day, ascending to immortality.

When Sen was honest with himself, that idea wasn’t very real to him. He didn’t think that anyone was lying to him. The stories all said that people had done it. Yet, Master Feng, Uncle Kho, and Ma Caihong had all been chasing that goal for thousands of years, which he also had trouble believing. All of those years and they still hadn’t accomplished it. Of course, Master Feng had said he wasn’t sure he’d go through with it, and Sen hadn’t asked the others about it. He thought they would answer if he asked, but it struck Sen as almost too personal a question. Sen liked the idea of immortality, but it was just too much like something that someone made up. If it was real, then that kind of ascension was for legends and heroes. Sen didn’t think it likely that immortality was meant for someone who grew up eating trash in alleys.

No, the only real difference that his new knowledge had made was that he felt slightly safer about going out and doing that exploring he dreamed about. Sen was relatively sure that he could handle himself against any bandits he might stumble across, assuming there weren’t too many of them. He also knew that there were other cultivators out there who were stronger and more advanced than him. They could pose a threat, but he didn’t plan on fighting them. He wasn’t even really all that interested in meeting them. Master Feng didn’t seem to have a particularly good opinion of any cultivator other than Uncle Kho. Uncle Kho was outright hostile to the mere mention of cultivators from sects, at least ones who were still alive. When Sen had asked him about that hostility, Uncle Kho hadn’t hesitated to tell Sen exactly what he thought of sects and sect members.

“They’re a bunch of jumped-up, preening fools who think they have the corner on power and enlightenment. There isn’t one in a thousand of them worth the dirt on my shoes.”

Sen had decided not to pursue that line of questioning any further with Uncle Kho. He didn’t know exactly what had soured the old cultivator on sects, but it must have been ugly to leave an anger that deep. Auntie Caihong hadn’t seemed as angry about sects, but she wasn’t enthusiastic about them either.

“Sects are,” she said, pausing to choose her words, “tools. They serve a function in that they let people pursue cultivation. They can provide guidance, of a sort. The problem with the whole system is that sects are full of people.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“People, especially people in groups, tend to reflect and amplify what’s around them. So, let’s say that you get a few sect elders who are too arrogant for their own good. They pass that attitude on to core sect members, who adopt it and make it worse. Those core sect members pass that attitude on to inner sect members, who pass it on to outer sect members. It gets worse and worse.

“So, you end up with a sect full of unbearable people who take offense at everything. This is on top of any regular flaws those people have, like bad tempers or feelings of inadequacy. Then, some of those sect members go out into the world and behave in simply abominable ways. They abuse the mortals. They pick fights with each other and leave devastation in their wake. Now, not every sect is that bad. Some are committed to ideals, such as upright behavior or humility, but enough are that bad that it tends to give them all a bad name.”

Curiosity got the best of Sen at that point. “Uncle Kho seems to hate them.”

Auntie Caihong sighed at that. “Yes, he does. He has reasons, justified reasons at that, for feeling the way he does. I don’t agree with his opinion that any sect is a bad sect, but he doesn’t agree with me about everything either.”

Sen frowned at that. “Doesn’t that make things complicated?”

“It certainly does, but that’s life for you. Here’s a lesson that might not make sense to you now, but just keep it in the back of your mind. Being friends with someone, even loving someone, doesn’t mean that you have to accept everything they believe. More to the point, you should run from anyone who tries to tell you otherwise. That kind of person isn’t anyone’s friend. Real friends, real loved ones, can disagree about important things and remain close.”

Sen had tried his best to digest that piece of advice, but he struggled with it. After a while, he recognized that he just hadn’t known enough people to understand what she was trying to tell him. Staying distant from other people had offered him a kind of safety, but he was starting to think that he might have missed out on more than he knew. Still, he dutifully tucked that bit of advice away to revisit in the future. Maybe when he had more than one friend. Maybe when he had a friend who wasn’t a ghost panther. The closest thing to a disagreement he and Falling Leaf ever had was when he ran out of treats to give her, and he suspected that even that was almost all show.

What really drove home to Sen that his new knowledge wasn’t the earth-shattering thing he’d imagined was that his routine didn’t change. He still got up in the mornings and practiced. He still spent his afternoons slowly mastering a new Jian form and learning about making medicines with Auntie Caihong. When the truth finally settled over him, what Sen experienced was simple embarrassment. He’d built that information up in his head. He’d assumed that it was powerful in some way. Mostly, though, he’d just felt left out.

It had seemed like everyone was having a different conversation over his head. With hindsight in place, he understood that the other conversation had only existed in his mind. The older cultivators knew more than he did, understood things that he didn’t, but aside from a few missteps by Master Feng early on, they had made every effort to give him the information he needed to succeed. They wanted him to succeed. Armed with that truth, Sen committed to doing the only thing he could to repay them. He committed to learning as much as he could, as well as he could.