Hong handled the loot. Tian, having been carefully coached by his brothers, kept a receipt of what was submitted. He also kept the cursed dagger. He would turn it in if he was asked, but until then, it was extremely useful. Between the dagger and his refined body, he was cultivating faster now than he had managed in the Temple.

“I think Level Five is only going to hold me for a few more months, Grandpa. And my body has never been purer. Or, well, more suitable for cultivation, I guess. The whole ‘purity’ thing is kind of a mystery to me now.”

The essence of daoist character is purity and tranquility. These are both mental and physical conditions, and include cleansing oneself of the Three Poisons as well as disturbances produced by the heart and mind. When we talk about a body being physically pure, it’s distinct from being ‘pure’ yin or ‘pure’ yang. Or any of the elements. We are talking about things like environmental toxins and excessive mortal qi.

“Mortal Qi?”

Qi comes in almost infinite varieties. Or just one variety. Kind of. Actually, not really, at this point. Look, don’t think about it too hard for now. “Mortal” qi or mortal air or any variation on that usually refers to being too tied to worldly things. Tied to the energy of the mortal world. Tied to the point where mortal matters have infiltrated your body and have integrated with your spirit. An excessive connection with mortal distractions and desires is naturally an obstacle to cultivating both immortality and a proper Daoist mindset.

“I’m not sure that answered any of my questions. I am absolutely sure I have more questions now than I did before.”

Welcome to the exciting world of religion and philosophy, where the questions are more interesting than the answers, and the answers are never quite right anyway. The broad point, among many others, is that your emotional state can affect your ability to cultivate. You can see it for yourself now.

Take a moment and meditate. Feel your body. Then feel your emotions. Try to place the emotions on your body, and see how the two line up. Does your vital energy flow smoothly? Do your thoughts run like water down a mountainside? Take a minute and check in on yourself.

Tian sat in lotus position on his bunk. The depot had special cultivation rooms, but he had never bothered to use them. The joy of the Advent of Spring was that it was very steady. No need to go into isolation. He let his breath flow steadily, taking the opportunity to practice the visualization that came with the art. For a moment, he was the heart of a tree, the span between heaven and earth. His veins thundered with the pulse of nature itself.

The breath within him usually flowed effortlessly. Now that he was paying attention to it, there was a hitch. He tried to ignore it for the moment, just letting his vital energy circulate. Physically, he felt fine. He had a good breakfast, had slept for more than twelve hours, and despite his mental fatigue, his body was refreshed. Maybe it was the wood qi, or maybe it was being thirteen. He bounced back fast. But that squeezing of his breath was only getting more and more noticeable.

His body was feeling good, but what about his emotions? The black tar around his heart felt like it had reduced in volume a bit, but solidified. After everything he had seen of the heretics, Tian reaffirmed his utter hatred of them. What he had seen from his sect mates had left his heart colder, and the hate cooled with it. Yes, killing heretics had reduced the volume, but his emotions were darker than before he left.

The frustration of losing to Hong at boxing was there too. Which was dumb. She was taller, stronger, her art was much more suited for sparring, she had probably been learning boxing since she was a baby, and he didn’t care about any of that. Losing was habit forming. So was winning. In his head, he had already marked Hong Liren as “Someone I Beat.” Shifting her to “Someone Who Can Beat Me” was unpleasant. He was quite sure he could still beat her if they used weapons and arts, but in a pure boxing match? She was better.

And stronger. He wasn’t sure why that bothered him so much, but it absolutely did. Getting slammed into the wall that way, helpless to stop her, felt horrible. He could accept it when it came from his senior brothers. They were ten times his age and twice his level. Of course they were stronger and more skilled! Someone his own age and level?

Tian didn’t like that one bit.

Was it vanity? He had been feeling particularly competent for a while now, but when you got right down to it, his seniors were covering for him. Dying, and making sure he didn’t die.

Brother Wong had done it with the hawk. The more mercenary brothers and sisters he went on patrol with did it too. It was only the real freaks like Sima who went out of their way to set him up, and Sima hadn’t even really gone out of his way. He was just a genuine article asshole.

Tian had to laugh at that thought. Sima was a complete prick, and because Sima was a prick, the two now were locked in a life-or-death feud. Sima couldn’t let even a tiny profit like one Earth Realm Heretic corpse slide past, couldn’t swallow an insult, couldn’t tolerate a loss of face. He would surely come for Tian’s life if he could. Which meant that Tian would surely come for his. It was Tian’s arrogance and insecurity at work too. After all, Tian could have let it slide if he wanted, or found some compromise. But if he did, who knows what else he might have to compromise?

This tale has been pilfered from NovelBin. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

What would Brother Fu say about all this? Probably something about calm, and reserve, and moving with the Dao. It might be true, but it wasn’t helpful. His other senior brothers would tell him to get stronger. Don’t like something? Learn enough to understand what the problem is, then get strong enough to fix it.

If he hated losing to Hong Liren, get stronger than her. Become more skilled. If he hated losing brothers to the Heretics, become strong enough to exterminate every Heretic. Learn enough medicine to save every wounded brother. Simple solutions. Just hard to actually do. But that was okay.

Tian felt the knot tied after the spar finally untie and fall away. It was okay if it was hard to do. He was used to doing hard things. This would just be one more thing he beat.

Tians’ first stop in the morning was Senior Sister Li. Since the caterpillar hair/needle things didn’t have to get submitted to the Treasure Weighing Magistrate, he and Hong split them. He vaguely wondered who Hong would take them to, or what she would use them for. It hadn't occurred to him to ask. Senior Sister Li was the only crafter he knew, and therefore the only crafter he trusted.

The young paragon behind the counter looked rested and well. No reason he shouldn’t, really. Tian was now very curious to find out just how this blessed existence was possible. It was hard to estimate ages, but Tian thought he wasn’t much over twenty something years old. Practically the same age as him.

“I don’t believe we have been introduced. I’m West Town Outer Court’s Tian Zihao. Might I ask Brother for his name?”

The young man smiled. “You are here so often, I have long since learned your name. I was starting to wonder if you would ever ask mine. My Daoist name is Supreme Art.

Tian blinked. “Your what now?”

There was a yell from the back. “His name is Long Yichen, and somehow he thought a Daoist name was more elegantly modest. Call him Supreme Art and I’ll ban you!”

Tian shrugged apologetically at the glum looking Long Yichen. “Sorry, Brother Long. I am here to see Senior Sister Li. Perhaps we can talk more later.” The name gave him a jolt. “Long” was a reasonably common family name, but now he would always associate it with the Brother who loved tea and loved Xiaoxiao and died far from the city full of osmanthus trees.

“Sure.” The young gentleman waved him towards the back. “You know the way.”

Tian walked past the counter and into the crafting space. Sister Li’s workspace was deceptively messy. Messy, because every scrap of surface, be it floor, tables, benches, stools, walls and the ceiling, was covered in stuff. What stuff, Tian didn’t dare to guess. Rags and ropes and bones and rocks and chunks of what he could now recognize as glass and a sword that had been carefully sliced into fifteen paper thin pieces the long way, and thousands of other things even more obscure. Deceptive, because Sister Li truly did know where each and every item in the room was, and they were arranged to be in immediate reach when she needed them.

The only clear spot was the work bench, lit with the exact same magical lighting apparatus used by the doctors in the hospital. It was unpleasantly bright when the hood was up, but neither Sister Li nor the doctors would work without it.

“This isn’t relevant to why I am here, but, may I ask what Brother Long’s story is?”

“That sounded almost like you came up with it yourself.” Sister Li gave him a surprised look.

“I am able to make sentences all on my own, Sister.” Tian did his best to be patient. Sister Li had always despised Tian’s using the phrases his brothers taught him, despite the fact that he had heard her use the exact same phrases herself.

“Why don’t I know about it then? To celebrate your progress, I will answer the question you are really asking. Yes, it is exactly what you think. In this case, I am looking after him for the Martial Aunt I have an understanding with.”

“An understanding with? Sorry, I’m not following.”

“Junior, does anything in this room look cheap to you?” She waved grandly. Tian was rather immediately reminded of the dump, but had the good sense to lie.

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head.

“Ignorant savage.” She snorted, clearly not fooled. “It costs a blinding fortune, and that’s assuming you have the channels to acquire the goods in the first place. Which I don’t, and neither does anyone else in the Outer Court. Not on the kind of scale you need if you are going to make something decent.”

“I… really am ignorant here, Senior Sister.”

“Your rope dart required no less than fifteen Earthly Realm materials and crafting agents, a tiny fraction of the materials needed to make the tools in my workshop. Each and every one of which required skilled crafters to fabricate and refine into something capable of displaying my own not inconsiderable skills. Skills which took so many materials and tools to practice they could coat this whole building in a layer six feet deep.”

Tian saw where she was going. “No way you could go out and collect all of it yourself. But the Inner Court can, because it’s always making and collecting high end materials. And setting missions for the Outer Court too.”

“Exactly. All those Outer Court gathering missions, all the trading and all the trading companies the sect owns across the kingdom, all the workshops and laboratories, it all adds up. Mortal things supporting Earthly things supporting Heavenly things which provide benefits and security in a cascade going back down to the mortals. And while obviously a private concern in the Inner Court couldn’t own a sect military crafting workshop or directly employ someone under the exclusive employ of the sect-”

The two shared a look. “To complete the mission given to you by the sect and to meet the needs of your brothers and sisters, you need to have an understanding with someone in the Inner Court. Who also has an understanding with several other crafters and suppliers. And they can’t share all these things for free.”

“Just so. It’s a bit like nature, really. It looks like the predators are having it all their own way, but really, it’s a whole system. Everything relies on everything else, and the things at the very base are so small you can hardly see them at all. Start pulling pieces out and everything collapses.”

Tian smiled and shook his head. Hard to imagine needing so many people and so many things just to make a steel knife or a rope dart. Then the smile drained from his face. He didn’t need to imagine it. He had seen proof it was true.

Who would master Gu if they could get good steel?