It is said that to cultivate is to defy the Heavens - at birth (or perhaps long before it), a man's destiny is set in stone, decided upon by Gods and Fate, from beginning to end. To cultivate is to take one's destiny into one's own hands, to decide for oneself, to rise up and choose one's fate.

That's the logic of it, at least.

I'm not really sure I agree, though. To defy Heaven… it's lofty. Perhaps even admirable. I just can't really see how it'd be achievable. Heaven is Heaven - the Gods are the Gods. The difference between a mortal and a cultivator is insurmountable. A mortal can no more defy a cultivator than an ant can defy a tiger. Before the likes of Heaven, a cultivator is surely little different than an ant.

This is not a mindset that is conducive to cultivation, which is perhaps not a great thing for me, given I am a cultivator. Cultivators should be brash and arrogant - to reach those lofty peaks, one must be full of determination and passion. Determination perhaps is the wrong word - it should be considered a certainty. If one is to have any hope of ascending, then you must treat it as a given. 

'If it's me, then I will surely ascend.' is the kind of mindset a cultivator needs.

Thinking things like 'Well, statistically it's kind of unlikely, isn't it?' and 'I am not a special talent, so it's not going to be easy' are like tripping at the starting line. As far as everyone is concerned, you may as well not bother if that's your attitude, even if those statements are true.

Statistically speaking, it's very unlikely that I - or any of the others around me - will make it to Core Formation, let alone ascend. Nor am I a particularly special talent. I am considered 'above average', which in a place like this means I am the bare acceptable minimum. To be 'above average' here is to be less than average, because why would a Sect bother with anything less than the best?

Well. Someone has to sweep the floors, and exceptional talents are not considered exceptional because they're plentiful. One could probably have a Sect that is nothing but the cream of the crop, but it must be said that whilst a single ant cannot defy a tiger, a single tiger is unlikely to defeat the swarm. That is a fight that nobody particularly wins. Sects have large numbers of 'trash' because, in the abhorrent words of a dictator, quantity is a quality all of its own.

Of course, all of that said, although I consider myself nothing special, I am nothing special in relation to the Sect. Compared to a mortal, just having been able to take these first few steps is extraordinary on its own. I don't know the statistics, but perhaps one in a hundred - one in a hundred is a number I am plucking from nothing, to be fair - might have what it takes to even begin cultivating. The Sect itself boasts that maybe one in ten thousand has what it takes to pass their tests and be welcomed.

That there are at least a few hundred of us Outer Disciples speaks more to the breadth of the population than anything else. The world is a big place.

But I suppose I have other reasons for believing that I might be special. Speaking plainly, I am a transmigrator. It stands to reason that such a thing makes me extraordinary, doesn't it? Transmigrators are surely rare if they are heard of at all. And perhaps such a thing is even true. Perhaps the fact that I have transmigrated is proof that I am destined for great things.

Frankly, that's kind of worse than being an exceptional talent. The idea that I have a destiny makes me want to curl up in a ball and die. My previous life was nothing particularly special, but it wasn't all that happy either. It was a lot of work, a lot of stress, and not a lot to show for it. I'll leap on the chance for happiness here, but my happiness is not in becoming a God or ruling the Heavens - my happiness is just having a quiet life where I can spend time in the garden.

So I guess everything loops back to my first point. To cultivate is to defy the Heavens. I am no fortune teller, so I cannot say I have any inkling what the will of the Heavens is, but I know one thing.

If I, Hei Lian, am fated to be some grand figure of history, then destiny will just have to look elsewhere. 

I refuse!

"Lian-er," came a familiar, arrogant voice, "You still haven't progressed? Can you be said to be really trying if you cannot make a single step?"

Although his words are mocking, I cannot find it in me to be at all annoyed if only because I know he doesn't mean too much by it. He is, after all, only ten and simply mirroring the behaviour of everyone around him. I cannot blame a ten year old for being a bit of a dick, when everyone around us is so much more of one. 

That I am currently twelve doesn't really matter either. It's not helped that despite our age differences, I'm an inch or two shorter than him.

"Senior Brother," I greet, giving him a polite bow. Although I am the older of us, I still call him the elder because the difference between us is like Heaven and Earth. I am at the Third Step of Qi Condensation - a result that would be considered praiseworthy in a lesser Sect. Here, this is the minimum. What is praiseworthy is Senior Brother Zhou Cheng, who has taken his first steps into the second stage - Foundation Establishment. It is the kind of talent that makes him an Inner Disciple.

"It's your birthday is it not? A celebration is surely in order."

He laughs, head thrown back and full throated. If he posed his hand, it'd be the textbook Princess Laugh. "As it should be," he declares, still grinning. "Don't I deserve a gift, Lian-er?"

"If Senior Brother says so, it must be true." I dust my hands off, and set my broom aside. "Would nian gao satisfy?"

His eyes light up. It's cute, I have to admit. Although he likes to peacock around, I still think of him like my cute younger brother. We aren't related at all, beyond the fact that we are martial brothers. "If it's Lian-er's nian gao, then I suppose it will be enough!"

Nian gao is a sticky rice cake traditionally served at New Years that symbolises progress and growth. It suits a birthday well enough, and is delicious to boot. The latter is more why I suggest it, because Zhou Cheng has a sweet tooth. I made him nian gao last year for his birthday as well, so its not an unexpected outcome.

"I am glad to hear you say that. Unfortunately, I do not have the ingredients for nian gao. It is a lamentable state of affairs."

As members of the Heavenly Misty Peak Sect, the vast resources of the Sect are at our disposal - but to use those same resources, we must earn them. For our contributions to the Sect, we earn points that can then be exchanged for said resources. Of course, all members of the Sect may eat and sleep without paying for food or rent, but if one wishes to eat something more than plain rice and vegetables, then one must pay in points.

It is certainly true that I have the points for the ingredients - small luxuries are not particularly expensive, as the expectation is that one saves up for actually useful resources, like techniques or time in a meditation area, where the feng shui is much better. Spending on luxuries is just delaying your cultivation, but even taskmasters realise sometimes people need a break from things.

Of course, if one has something, one can lose it. I was worried originally that anything I purchased could be stolen from me - stories of that thing are common, after all, and cultivation is cut throat at times. Might makes right, after all. But there are rules set up to ensure a level of fairness, and the Elders keep enough of an eye on the Disciples so that those rules are obeyed.

Scuffles and fights between Disciples of the same class is to be expected - encouraged, even, for it sharpens skills and inspires growth (at least, theoretically). But forcing another Disciple to spend their points for your benefit is crossing a line. Similarly, theft and stealing is not tolerated. If you wish to have something, then you must earn it. The Sect has little respect for mere banditry. 

Of course, it can be hard to prove such things - it is one thing for a Disciple to beat another up and take their things. It's another if those same things disappear in the night. Getting away with it is just another form of earning it, after all, and who can say what is merely misplaced or lost and what is stolen? If you wished to keep it, then you should've been more careful.

But at least this way, the stronger disciples do not entirely monopolize the resources just by bullying the everloving shit out of the weaker ones. Similarly, Zhou Cheng knows that he cannot make me buy the ingredients for nian gao, nor will I - but then again, it is not as though Senior Brother would do such a thing. In many ways, he is my only friend in the Sect.

"Be grateful to your Senior Brother then, that I have brought you the ingredients!"

It's a little hard for me not to crack a smile at his expression. Cheeky little shit. Well, it's not like I hate his cheek. "The Heavens have blessed me truly, to have such a thoughtful Senior Brother. Very well, I will begin straight away."

The basics of nian gao is glutinous rice flour, water, sugar and seasonings to taste. Zhou Cheng being who he is, he has also provided some cinnamon, allspice, dates and honey. Were we not cultivators, I would worry about his blood sugar.

He watches me work with the curious gaze of a fascinated child. "Lian-er," he asks, with the guileless and arrogant tone of someone who doesn't know better, "Why do you spend so much time cooking?"

What he means is 'Why do I invest so much time in a skill for mortals when you are a cultivator?'. The Heavenly Misty Peak Sect is large enough that there are few, if any, mortal servants - if there are indeed any, they are likely in the employ of higher ranked members than us, but then again, it is just as likely those selfsame servants would be given cultivation resources enough to make them more 'useful'.

"Because I enjoy cooking," is my simple reply, "This Hei Lian is content to indulge in what he enjoys." In this world, I am the son of merchants. The filthy rich kind. Of course, being a filthy rich merchant means very little to cultivators. Arguably, I could've led a pampered mortal life, but I chose to cultivate because I had the talent. And honestly because cultivating might mean a long life. Even just being in the first or second stages could extend your lifespan by several decades. "Besides. If this humble servant did not hone his skills in cooking, who would make Senior Brother's rewards?"

Senior Brother snorts, watching as I shape the cakes carefully. "Are you cultivating the Dao of a Housewife, Lian-er?"

I give him a cheeky smile, and attempt to squeeze my chest together as I lean forward in a mimicry of a 'seductive pose'. "Would Senior Brother take me as his wife if I did? I promise to fulfill all my wifely duties~"

His spluttering is both cute and hilarious. "I have no time for a wife!" he declares stubbornly, "I, Zhou Cheng, will reach the Heavens! Marriage will just distract me from cultivating." He says that now, but he might be singing a different tune when he hits puberty. 

If I'm perfectly honest, I'd be happy to settle down as a trophy husband to some powerful cultivator. Hell, if the life is comfortable enough, I'll wear a skirt and they can call me their wife. I don't mind.

"If Lian-er spent as much time cooking as he did cultivating, then he might already be in Foundation Establishment."

"This Lian-er is not so talented as Senior Brother. Perhaps I would be in… the Sixth or Seventh Step." Each step gets progressively harder - and each stage as well. It's an exponential, upwards climb. If breaking through is worth one hundred points alone, making it to the Second Step is two hundred - and the third is perhaps five hundred.

It's that kind of climb, after all.

"So you admit that you're wasting time!" he crows, even as I steam the cakes that he asked me to make. The bamboo steamer cost me a pretty penny in points, but nobody bothered stealing it from me if only because there wasn't any point.

My reputation in the Sect was low, if only because I spent my time doing 'frivolous' things, but it also meant nobody cared about me. 'Fatty Hei and his food' was more of a… an oddity, like one of the old timers amongst the Outer Disciples - the ones who were in it for life, no real hope of advancement. As far as most people were concerned, I was just making peace with the fact that I had little hope of advancement and preparing to settle - thus, unworthy of attention.

Well. There was no shortage of us who had no real hope of advancement, but plenty of us with fake hope. To have any real chance of success, you had to believe that success was a foregone conclusion - but believing that didn't make it real.

"I do not see it as a waste, Senior Brother," I reply cheerfully, poking at the firewood a little, "I am in no rush to reach the Heavens - they are not going anywhere. The Heavens will be there in one year or one hundred."

"But will you be?" he counters, giving me a serious look.

I raise an eyebrow in response… and open the steamer. "The nian gao is ready, Senior Brother. Please don't burn yourself."

That manages to silence him for a little bit as he quite literally stuffs his face. There's a certain delight to be taken in watching someone enjoy the fruits of my labour - cooking good food is a pleasure all of its own, but food exists to be eaten, and whilst eating it myself is quite wonderful, I can't deny that sharing it with others has always pleased me more.

Work exists to be completed, but more than that, for the results to be enjoyed. To have a clean home, to have a nice space, good food - these are life's greatest treasures. In my eyes, at least.

Zhou Cheng finishes the last bites, smacking his lips with a satisfied expression. "Lian-er's nian gao is truly the best," he declares, nodding to himself.

He can be flattering when he wants to be - although really, Cheng just has a brash sort of earnestness to him. He says things in a straightforward way because he has power and talent. It's cute, in its own way.

"I've decided! I would be sad if Lian-er were to die because he was weak - so I, Zhou Cheng will train you!"

My hands freeze in the middle of packing away my utensils. "... Eh?"