Sky Pride

Chapter 7- The Second Supreme Virtue

The tea session was a modest success. While no definitive common points were identified across all four scrolls, there was a definite theme. Where, on balance, should ensuring the common good be balanced against the instinct of all people to better themselvesspecifically? And, following that question, to what degree did it make sense to put the cost of maintaining that public good on a central authority, rather than decentralizing it?

The question was surprisingly fascinating to Tian, once it was explained to him. He really hadn’t spotted the connections beyond a lack of cultivators.

He assumed the correct answer was essentially what the sect did- loads of streams of income and resources funneled to a single central point, then distributed outwards again. But this was, the others told him, often very inefficient when considering things like transportation costs and time, or responsiveness to urgent needs. Sometimes it made more sense to have a regional warehouse and regional distribution that fed into local warehouses and distribution.

All well and good when discussing rice, but what about soldiers? The emperor might very strongly prefer every soldier be raised under his banners, paid by him, trained by him, and loyal to him alone, but that was hideously difficult in practice. An army is expensive. How much better, then, to shove the cost onto the aristocracy. Simply require that, when summoned, dukes appeared with so many trained and equipped soldiers, earls with so many, barons so many, all at no cost to the Imperial Treasury.

Although, regrettably, that did tend to lead to nobles wondering exactly why they were bending the knee and paying taxes if they were the ones with the army.

Same with disaster response. A plague required incredibly responsive, granular, local management that was simply impossible to manage from a distant capital, but it also required people from outside the immediately affected area moving in coordination with the people on the spot. You needed some national power to prevent a local outbreak from becoming a plague.

“The outlier seems to be Sister Su’s polemic on education.” Brother Wang smiled, but his eyes were narrow. “Saying that job training is practically and morally better than a generalist education is… an interesting view.”

“It is a more common argument than you think, and has significant merit.” Sister Su lightly shook her head. She didn’t blink quite as much as Tian would expect. It was a subtle thing, but after a while you picked up on the way she tended to stare directly at things.

“A librarian against education?” Hong asked.

“Never that. The argument is that mass generalized education is inefficient to the point of causing far greater harm than benefit. A case can be made that universal literacy improves efficiency in the labor pool, and a case can be made that it is somehow morally improving for everyone to read literature or understand how to calculate the area of a circle. But no ‘case’ is needed for a farmer to understand when to plant rice, nor how to harvest it, nor how to look after buffalo. A farmer’s son is almost always a farmer. A fisherwoman’s daughter is almost always a fisherwoman. Let them learn those things they need alone. They will spend the extra time more happily and productively.”

“Similar to what we get in the sect. Or at least how I was trained.” Tian raised the kettle and looked around. He got nods, so he made sure the temperature was just right and steeped another serving.

“When I think back on it, all I was really required to learn was a cultivation method and two combat arts. Which says a lot about what the sect considers necessary for every member to know. Other than those things, it was ‘Here is how to venerate the Ancestors, here is how to sweep the temple grounds, here is how we say morning prayers,’ and all that. All the other stuff I learned was from my brothers being good brothers, or manuals that I had to buy.” he continued. Brother Fu had been the driving force there. And Brother Fu was one of only two Outer Court leaders with that mindset.

“Same.” Hong nodded. “Except a lot more of the training came from my family.”

“And me.” Sister Su nodded.

“Me too. And I agree that it’s alarming.” Brother Wang softly rubbed the arm of his wooden chair. “It brings us back into that tension between centralized control and local autonomy. The more knowledgeable an individual cultivator is, the more capable they are, but it reduces both the ability of the center to control them and it raises costs in ways that are not easily recovered. Or at least the profit of the education is not easily measured.”

“Feels like one of those things that doesn’t have one always-right answer.” Tian checked the color and aroma of the steep. It was starting to thin out a bit, but there was still pleasure to be had in the lightening taste. He poured from the lidded cup into the pitcher, then into the proffered tea cups.

They sat back and savored the tea. That was one of the joys of a tea session- the way the tea changed with each steeping. Depending on the leaves, it might be strongest with the first cup and grow progressively thinner. Some teas needed a few cups to fully open up and develop their flavor. The aroma grew, evolved and shifted. Even the color changed. Each little cup was to be savored, as no two cups, like no two moments in a life, were ever quite the same.

“Still not an inch closer to having a, you know, viable idea for the Monastery.” Hong sighed. “Not even sure they are really pointing us towards a question they want an answer to.”

“They aren’t.” Wang shook his head. “It’s only the first day of who knows how many. What they want us to do is wrestle with questions and get used to the struggle.”

Tian reckoned that sounded right. Their specific instructions were to heal and pursue their dao. This could be considered part of testing and understanding that dao. A higher level approach to things than he was used to, but it made a degree of sense when you looked at it from the perspective of the upper management of the Monastery. They never expected the masses to achieve much. Finding the tiny few that could really change things, that was what mattered.

“Out of curiosity, how old are the two of you? Tian’s probably fourteen, and I’m definitely fourteen, but I can’t really get a grip on how old you two are.” Hong asked.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“I’m twenty five.” Sister Su volunteered. Tian wouldn’t have been able to guess. Even for a cultivator, it was hard to pin down how old she was. She felt older than twenty five.

“Twenty six.” Brother Wang spread his hands. “And I believe Sister Su and I are both Level Nine.”

Sister Su didn’t respond. She hadn’t been asked a question after all. Tian had to control a flinch. It took significantly longer to cultivate each successive level. If Brother Wang and Sister Su were both Level Nine in their mid twenties, unless they had several spectacularly fortuitous encounters, each, they were at least first class cultivation talents.

“Hmm. I guess that makes you two the Senior Brother and Sister then.” Hong smiled.

Brother Wang gave Tian a look. “I’m not sure I want the position. Seems like it might be hazardous to my health.”

Tian looked back wide eyed. He had no idea the role was so dangerous. But then, it was a responsible position. “Don’t worry, Senior Brother Wang. Should you fall, I will definitely pick up your bones! I am very experienced in these matters.”

“And that’s where I’m calling it a day. I’m off to cultivate. See you for dinner.” Brother Wang waved airily and shoved to his feet. Tian hid a small frown. They never got the mung bean cakes, and he had wanted to try them.

Ah well. There was always tomorrow.

Dinner was with all the disciples together in a small dining room. Not the dining room, that was reserved for far more important occasions. Merely a dining room. Tian idly wondered where Steward Pan ate, or whoever was cooking these meals. Logically, there must be servants maintaining the manor and the garden, but he hadn’t seen any of them.

Lin shoved her chair back with a screech after she was done eating and stalked off without so much as a polite nod. Tian thought it was fair enough that she was mad at him, and could understand why she extended the frustration to Liren, but why the other disciples? What had she called them? The Psychopath, the Grotesque and the Heretic?

He gently rapped his head. One of these days, he should really find out what a Necrophiliac is. She was saying it like it was a terrible insult. Somehow, the word had just never turned up in all those histories of emperors and virtuous ministers.

After three days passed, they were summoned once more before Elder Feng.

“We will be descending on the mortal city known as Burning Flag in this era. It is the bulwark Broad Sky Kingdom built to hold back the Redstone Wastes. The actual border is about a day’s travel behind us. Which makes this city rather interesting. Disciple Wang, why might that be?”

“A Border City means a border Border Garrison and a Border Garrison General. A big army of veteran troops with very senior leadership at the furthest reaches of royal control. It also means the biggest problems securing pay and supply. On the border of the Redstone Wastes, there will be infinite difficulties from mutated animals as well as heretic raids. Even if we have a sizable garrison here.”

Wang’s answer was fluid. There was an undisguised glint in his eye.

“Well reasoned. But what is the biggest danger?”

“Trade.” The glint in Wang’s eye spread out and downward, turning into a truly nasty smile. “Legal, taxable trade, conducted right out in the open.”

Elder Feng nodded. “Indeed. But with who? They border the dreadful Redstone Wastes, where none may pass and live.”

The room turned silent. Even for a rhetorical question, the disciples felt that was a bit much. Elder Feng snorted.

“One of the… little oversights our current perilous situation has forced us to confront is the matter of Black Iron Gorge’s trade routes. While trade with Black Iron Gorge is banned and punishable by death, their salt prices are so low that even honest merchants can’t bear to refuse. But they do, of course, suffering immensely for their virtue. Fortunately, there are ‘completely unrelated wandering merchants from local nomadic tribes’ who happen to carry tons of salt and just happen to pass by the city, so all is well in the end. There is a reason the ancients-” She shook her head and cut the sentence off.

Tian felt the room start to spin. The commerce raid. Literally two dozen cultivators staked their lives to take down one mortal caravan out of who knows how many, twenty three dead, and the local guards could have done the same job better!

“CONTROL YOURSELF, YOUNG MAN!”

Elder Feng’s voice crashed in his ears like a thunderclap. Tian was back in his body. He was circulating Snake Head Vine Body so hard, his meridians ached. He could feel subtle twists of elemental qi dispersing around him, boiling off of him as his vital energy churned inside him. His rope dart fell on the floor with a thud. His hands ached, bent into claws. His face hurt too. What face had he been making?

Probably similar to Hong’s. She had her spear out and looked ready to launch a slaughter.

“I apologize. I will reflect on it.” He bowed. He was sorry to have lost his composure. He wasn’t at all sure he was sorry for having offended the Elder. The Elders of the sect commanded his fear not his respect these days.

“Do so. Consider it part of your healing.” It seemed the Elder wasn’t interested in pursuing the matter. A kindness of a sort.

The room settled back into silence.

“One of many memorials sent by Junior Wang was on this point. You sent so many, in fact, that some were read properly. Primarily to secure the necessary evidence for your trial and execution.” Elder Feng’s smile was wintery.

“Some of them eventually reached Elder Rui, along with the question of what to do with you. Doctrinally, the answer is quite clear. Practically it is too. But we have passed the point where the old doctrines can sustain us.”

Brother Wang looked like all his birthdays had come at once. “I had hoped. May the Heavens bless the wise elder!”

That got a snort

The room was silent for a moment. “At a certain scale, smuggling simply becomes normalized, then quasi-legal. Someone has to pay for the army. Why not tax the salt merchants? Why not tax them heavily, given that they are subverting the law?” Elder Feng’s voice dripped derision.

“If I may ask, Elder, how did we manage to miss this? It has to have been going on for centuries.” Hong asked. There was an edge to her voice that Tian completely understood. His own voice wasn’t yet under control.

“We, meaning the Monastery, are literally and metaphorically above the food preservation needs of mortals. We, meaning Ancient Crane Mountain and all its dependents, didnʼt miss it at all. We are some of the Gorge’s finest customers.”

That dropped the temperature in the room to freezing.

“Oh yes. Juniors Hong and Wang both come from merchant families, though fortunately neither family trades or traded in salt. I see the connections forming in your heads. All those mortal families and chambers of commerce, the whole economy propping up the Monastery, all of it, like the Mountain, rests on Broad Sky Kingdom. And the Kingdom needs salt. And the merchants need money. And the Army needs paying. Salt from the Gorge is remarkably cheap and remarkably pure. How foolish would it be to allow mere… esoteric philosophical disagreement to damage the lives of hundreds of millions of mortals? Because they truly do need salt.”

Elder Feng lightly tapped the desk. “But we are Ancient Crane Mountain. We are Daoist Cultivators pursuing immortality. The second Supreme Virtue is Frugality. It is time to remind people of the wisdom of a virtuous life.”