“Your kindness was wasted, by the way.”
Feng blinked at the sudden statement. His attention shifted away from the blood-soaked battlefield and back to the Young Miss. “What?”
The girl glared at him with knowing eyes. When he raised a confused eyebrow in return, she sighed.
“Those two Inner Disciples just now,” she elaborated. “When I greeted you earlier, I mentioned that it was kind of you to help them. But your kindness was wasted on those sycophants.”
This was a strange change of topic. What prompted such a statement? Feng considered her words, before opting for a diplomatic reply.
“‘Wasted’ is a little harsh, don’t you think?” he offered. “Those Spirit Stones mean nothing to my cultivation in the long run, given my current standing. At the very least, those resources will serve the two far better than they would me. If we are to be practical, the principle of optimising net benefits among all parties dictates my actions as just.”
“Since when does cultivation care for the benefits of others beyond oneself?” Lingyu didn’t sneer, but her face conveyed the disapproval all the same.
“It does not,” he admitted, before adding hesitantly: “Surely the gift of two Spirit Stones does not necessitate such scathing remarks?”
She was unusually upset about this. Feng could not help but wonder what angle he was missing. The Young Miss snake-amber eyes studied him for a moment before she answered.
“I’m not upset about the stones, though giving that to them was also a waste,” she commented, the distaste clear in her voice. “All they did was shout your praises and tell you what everyone else in this building already knew. What kind of behaviour are you encouraging, when you reward such meagre efforts?”
Lingyu sent him a disappointed look. For a moment, he was reminded of the annoyed glares Lianshi always gave him when she caught him helping out the mortal villages in the valleys below.
“But I digress,” she continued. “What I meant was the warning, when you told them to leave the training halls with their spoils.”
Ah, that.
“That’s hardly deserving of your cutting judgment,” Feng chided. “The lives of disciples are difficult enough as is. There’s nothing wrong with helping them every once in a while.”
If Feng had not told the disciples to leave, there was a good chance someone stronger would have demanded the stones from them. There was enough violence in the Sparring Halls already. The Young Master would hate to see more of it, especially if it were borne out of greed for his gifts.
“You didn’t so much help as you coddled,” Lingyu scoffed. “Treat your Juniors like this, and you stifle their development. The cruelties of our Sects were by design, not accident. It encourages growth among the worthy. Besides, how does acting with such generosity aid you? Your reputation hardly needs more of a boost. Or does your ego relish the adoration of the lower masses?”
Feng winced. “That’s a little cruel, Lingyu.”
Her basilisk gaze did not lessen their glacial assessment. It was, Feng privately thought, not a look that suited her, especially given her youth.
Yet it was perhaps one he could not blame her for, given the place of her upbringing.
“I’m worried about you,” she eventually confessed, biting her lip before continuing. “Were the positions reversed, no one would ever extend the same courtesy as you did them. Have you considered that? Your altruism is abnormal. They are people saying…”
She trailed off. He gave her a curious look. “Saying what?”
Lingyu hesitated, before sighing. “That you are too idealistic. Ignorant. And… that you lack the selfishness to be a proper cultivator.”
Feng stared at her for a moment, before bursting into laughter.
The Young Miss glared indignantly at him before she stomped at his feet. He barely felt it. “Feng! I’m being serious!”
“I know, I know.” The Young Master appeased her between chuckles. “It’s just… It’s ridiculous! I lack selfishness? That statement could not be further from the truth!”
“People are insulting you behind your back, you know! Saying you are not fit for my sister’s hand, or that you are a spoiled, ignorant failure of a Young Master, or, or…” She frowned. “What do you mean when you said that statement was untrue?”
Feng looked at her and grinned. “Lingyu, I am the most self-serving fool I know. You will be hard-pressed to find someone who matches the idiotic depth of my Heart’s greed.”
Lingyu looked unsure of what to say. “Your Heart’s… greed?”
Feng smiled mirthlessly. “Apparently, it seeks a world where no one would willingly ignore a person’s suffering. The thing hounds me ceaselessly to bring forth such madness, indifferent to my means or the realities of the Empire I live in. How can something that absurd be anything but selfish? That idiot Heart of mine might as well order me to usurp the Emperor and create her idealistic utopia with my bare hands.”
He was acting abnormally, he realised. Upon seeing the Young Miss' worried expression, the Young Master breathed out, calming himself before he sought to reassure her.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Lingyu,” he said soothingly. “Everything I do, I do it with my self-interest solely in mind. My actions might not always appear that way, but it is the truth. If that does not reassure you, consider this: During all these years you know me, has my cultivation ever faltered once?”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
The Young Master’s peculiarities were many. A lesser cultivator might have been allowed these eccentricities as the symptoms of stress or ill character, but a practitioner of his political position could not afford such judgment without suffering a blow to his reputation.
The sole reason why he had not faced greater opposition to his obscene bouts of charitable actions was due to his excellent cultivation. Were he to be found lacking in that most vital area of development, not even his Father would be able to stem the inevitable intervention from his Sect.
Woe to them, then, that his progress leaves nothing to be desired.
“I… I suppose not.” Lingyu relaxed slightly. “Your methods are strange, but if you say they help you…”
A thought occurred to Feng. It was an indecent question, one not spoken of in polite company of practitioners, but he wanted to ask it all the same.
“Would you provide me aid, if I needed assistance? Even if it were not in your best practical interest to do so? Akin to how I helped those two Inner Disciples earlier, for example.”
Cultivation was a wholly personal and selfish practice. In matters of spiritual advancement, it was one thing to offer services and goods in equivalent exchange, but a perverse matter entirely to ask for aid without debt.
She scoffed. “That’s different. You are my sister’s Fiancé. It’s always going to be in my best interest to help you. Even if you do stupid things often.”
“And what if I wasn’t?”
Lingyu looked taken aback. “What?”
“If I wasn't…” He hesitated. “If I weren’t married to your sister… would you still help me then?”
“W-why are you asking such things?”
Feng shrugged at Lingyu’s increasingly alarmed expression, unsure of what to say. He merely waited for her response.
“I, well…” The Young Miss cleared her throat, before turning away. “W-well, you are still the Young Master of the Beheaded Phoenix Sect, so I suppose even then, it would be in my best interest to put you in my debt—”
“And what if I was not even that?” He suddenly interrupted, surprising even himself.
“I… huh?”
What was he doing?
“If…” He looked down. “If I weren’t the Young Master of a Sect, or your sister's Fiancé… If I were just someone unimportant, someone useless, but someone that you know for years… would you still help me then?”
What a stupid question. It was borderline insulting to ask that of a cultivator. Feng pressed his lips together, forming a thin, frustrated line. Why had he asked such a thing? Lingyu was not a fool, and there was no other way she could take his words as but an offence to her character. He needed to apologise, otherwise even she would not forgive—
“... Yes.”
He turned to look at her in utter surprise. “What?”
Lingyu’s gaze met his bewildered one. Her face was red, but her eyes were defiant. “I would, okay?”
She was serious, he realised. “Why?”
“Same reason as you, I suppose,” she sighed, closing her eyes. “Because my heart is also a selfish, greedy thing that wants things that it can't have.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You wouldn’t. For someone so smart and empathetic, you can be unbelievably dense sometimes.” She gave him a withering glare, but its effect was slightly diminished by her reddened cheeks. “Even now, you still think my sister is only marrying you because of the arrangements made by the Clans.”
“I would never question your sister’s honour like that. Her commitment to her Sect’s well-being through this marriage is undeniable. I apologise if I gave the wrong impression.”
Lingyu sighed even more heavily. “Right. ‘Her commitment to the Sect’. Let’s just go with that. What about you, then? Lianshi once mentioned your… apprehension to this affair.”
He looked away, choosing his words carefully.
“I have no qualms with it, so long as Lianshi is agreeable to the union,” he said truthfully. “Given her superior standing, I am fortunate that she has found me an acceptable partner, despite this marriage of ours being one forced on her. The matter concerns far more than just the two of us at this point. Breaking it off would be… difficult.”
“I suppose.” Lingyu’s tone was even. “This will be the first time any opposing Sects will have bound their families together through the marriage of Clan Heirs since… forever, probably. At least in our parts of the Outer Provinces. I would not be surprised if it caught the attention of everyone in the Empire’s northern borders. And that’s not even mentioning how popular and well-known the two of you are.”
“Lianshi I quite understand; her fame will likely reach even the Inner Provinces at some point,” he replied after a moment. “But me? Aside from being the Young Master lucky enough to marry her, I have done little worth talking about.”
“Maybe among cultivators, no,” Lingyu admitted. “But the villagers around the mountains adore you. Your frequent little trips to the lower valleys to hear their pleas and help resolve their plights have made you popular. I hear some are even celebrating in your honour; lighting incense and lanterns at the temples, praying for your good health and happiness in marriage, that sort of thing.”
His silent Heart twitched. “All I did was occasionally listen to their misfortunes. Hardly anything praiseworthy.”
“Right. And the sudden disappearance of those Spirit Beasts that were tormenting them was just a coincidence, was it? Or maybe that time when a stash of medicinal supplies just magically appeared on people’s doorsteps during a village pandemic?” Her sarcasm was palpable. “Emperor’s breath, I even heard tales of you giving out Spirit Stones to newly awakened village cultivators to help them pass the Sect entrance exams!”
“Alright, so maybe I’ve helped them deal with a few Spirit Beasts now and then, and maybe I’ve given them some supplies that weren’t worth much.” Feng conceded, his expression uncomfortable. “That’s hardly significant. It didn’t cost me anything beyond time and resources that I wasn’t using anyway.”
“And that’s already more than what any other cultivator would do for them.” The Young Miss’s gaze softened, her eyes meeting his. “Quite a few owe their lives to you, be it from the jaws of roaming monsters or a deadly illness that should have killed them. Praying for your marital happiness is the least they could do for you…”
Lingyu looked away from him, turning to witness the ongoing conflict as disciples fired off barrages of awe-inspiring martial techniques with bloodthirsty screams. “Or rather, it was the only thing they could do for you. There are only so many ways for worms to show their gratitude, after all.”
Divine Beings, Part 3
The status of the Divine corpses is complicated. While they cannot be said to be alive, it would not be entirely accurate to refer to them as dead, either. As all Divine Beings were once Immortals, their Souls have already ascended the Circle of Reincarnation, ‘Samsara’, and thus they cannot truly die. It would be more accurate to call them ‘asleep’, albeit their slumber is one they shall likely never wake from.
The Divine Corpses hence exist in varying states of ‘death’, with a few even still retaining a level of sentience to this day. Some may exist in a constant state of activity, while others would lie unresponsive for decades or even centuries at a time before awakening for merely brief seconds, after which they would return to their Dreams.
As of the current Era, Divine Corpses are often graded into four categories, in ascending order of power: Carrion, Carcass, Cadaver, and Crawling. In the historical records, during the Jade King’s Era — when the Divine Beasts still roamed and ruled the lands — they were categorised as Minor, Major, Imperial, and Heaven respectively.
It is often remarked that these four stages of power mirror the final four stages of cultivation: the 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th Realms, otherwise known as the ‘Immortal’ Realms.
– Excerpt from An Account of Divine Corpses
