Chapter 38- The Many Flavors of Fortune

Tian spent the rest of the evening chatting with Grandpa, talking about all the things that had happened, asking what exactly a money toad was (being told “You will find out,” was not very helpful, in Tian’s opinion,) and questions about cultivation. They also tackled the future of the monastery.

You always have to look at things from the human perspective in situations like this. Forget daoism for a bit. Rule number one- people want tomorrow to be more or less like today, and a reasonable possibility that it could be better. That means they are more worried about avoiding losses than potential gains. Rule number two- most people aren’t assholes all the time, but some definitely are, and everyone is at some point, so you gotta balance your system quite carefully between minimizing harm from assholes and maximizing the benefits for the good people. Rule number three- everyone is busy with their own stuff. Not many people have the time and interest to manage other people’s stuff. The people who do have that kind of interest are… not inherently bad, but should be watched closely. Any system has to take them into account too, as they are the ones who are most likely to get things done, including doing bad things you don’t want.

“Makes sense, but I don’t really see how to apply all that.”

Easy. Consider the Monastery itself. First of all, why call it a monastery? Why not Ancient Crane Palace, or Big Mountain Pavilion, or Limitless Virtue Transcendent Insight Immortal Divine Sanctuary of Supreme Meaning?

“I… don’t actually know.”

I can more or less guarantee that one of the daoist organizations on this mountain before the Ancient Crane arrived was called a monastery. A religious retreat. Maybe they were cultivators, maybe they were just venerating the gods, or their ancestors, or who knows what. But they hung onto the name, and they hung onto the organizational structure, only changing things when they really needed to. Which wasn’t often, since they aren’t hands-on for most things.

“Alright?”

So you tell me. Does it need to stay a monastery? If the current system is non-functional, does it make more sense to scrap everything and rebuild from the ground up, or keep adapting the old system?

“What even could replace it? A kingdom? A merchant house? A… I don’t know, a school or something? I think I heard Censor Hanshen mentioning something about scholar’s academies. Maybe you could have a daoist academy.”

Or nothing. Nothing says the Monastery has to exist.

“Heretics, natural disasters…”

Why are they your problem? And if you think they are, why not integrate directly with the kingdom?

“Nobody cultivating or breaking through because their heads are filled with mortal concerns, not to mention the qi density on this mountain is so high, I can understand why it took direct orders to get people to leave the monastery and descend into the low country.”

Tian sighed and walked over to the side of the stream. “I have an idea how this goes. The cultivator aligns himself with stillness and nature, following the way of heaven. The mortals must scurry and busy themselves, following the way of earth. As the heavens are above the earth, so the immortal must be over the mortal, aligning themselves with the world so that everything falls into its natural order. The cultivator achieves everything by doing nothing, because all the little people serving them will rush around doing the work. You could replace the word ‘cultivator’ with ‘emperor’ easily enough, and it would still apply.”

There was a startled silence, then Tian had the sense of Grandpa Jun grinning. Exactly right. A nicely daoist version of “My fist is bigger, so grow my rice or else.” And don’t forget the next step- just as heaven and earth are fixed in relation to each other, so is the position of people. Some above, most below, and coming to a fixed point. Natural as the sun rising in the morning. Only when people strive to change their station or neglect their proper role does the world turn to misery and chaos. Such is always the consequence when one labors against the law of heaven.

Tian chuckled. “Then shouldn’t a cultivator defy the heavens, withstand tribulations with their righteousness and… and this is how the Eight Directions Palace operated. Sister Su said that nobody ever saw them because nobody below the Earthly Realm had anything they wanted. They only appeared to earn merits. They just stayed up on the mountain. And like the Inner Court, they went adventuring, probably between other high-qi density areas. Which there can’t be that many of, so they had to cover multiple regions.”

There are a lot more than you would think, the world is a big place. Finish it up. How did they get new disciples?

“They scattered cultivation manuals around, occasionally appearing as sages and preaching the dao, then vanishing. While they were wandering, they kept an eye out for people with a talent for cultivation and took them as disciples. Direct teaching.” Tian resumed the head rubbing. So many things were snapping into place. “I have to assume the Elders have thought of all this.”

Don’t be so quick to assume. Remember rule one? They want to keep things as close to the way they were as possible, unless they are forced to make a big change. And believe it or not, this whole situation is probably not dire enough to force truly dramatic change.

“What would?!”

Their feet being literally on fire might make some of them jump. You would be depressed to learn that some people will insist that wearing burning shoes is how things should be.

“But we are starting from an advantage. We can pitch defying the heavens and the systems of the world as following in the steps of the Eight Directions Palace. Starsieve and the founders forgot the true legacy of the ancients and all that.”

If it’s what you want the sect to look like.

Tian was about to say yes, when the image of the Saintess came to mind. A monstrous being, existing in a vast array, eating the fortune of children. And she had been the saintess. He didn’t know exactly what status that gave her in the sect, but it clearly wasn’t a low one.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The servant’s trial was another important point. It was downright murderous. Then there was Suneater. At some point, he had been recruited into the sect. Somehow. Maybe someone saw something good in him, maybe there was some other way in. Trial grounds for Heavenly Realm people or something. It felt like something they would do.

Just because they were, in some ways, better than the Ancient Crane Monastery, it didn’t mean they were better in every way. The West Town Outer Court would never have existed under them. The Xias might have been slaughtered for some other reason, but there would be no Brother Fu, Brother Wong, or any of the others, to heal him and teach him how to live with humans. He would merely have been livestock, contributing to the prosperity of the region, and, in a microscopic way, the fortune accumulated by the Palace.

Rule two- most people aren’t assholes all the time, but you gotta plan for the ones who are.

“Brother Fu would be the kind of person you mention in Rule Three, right? The kind to get things done, but might also break your system.”

Yep.

“Lets hope you are right.”

Tian snuck back into the Monastery the next morning. This was about as successful as an elephant sneaking into a cymbal storage room, but since he found some treasures, it was important to try. He handed over the ordinary rocks and quarrying equipment to the mission hall, carefully checked he got his refund, and turned to go find the Wangs.

“Err… Brother Tian?”

“Yes, Senior?” He hadn’t even gotten one step towards the door.

“Why do you have a toad on a bit of twine hanging over your shoulder?”