Tian realized he was being rude about ten seconds after people started staring at him. He jolted to his feet and cupped his hands towards the new arrivals, bowing almost ninety degrees. “I am sorry! I was completely lost in my thoughts.”

“Understandable. You were just out in the desert, weren’t you?” This from a daoist of around thirty years old. Tian pegged him at the seventh level of the Earthly Realm, which for the Bamboo Medicine Hut made him something of a talent.

“In multiple senses, yes. Sorry, I missed Fellow Daoist’s name?”

“Bamboo Medicine Hut, Jun Pengxi. This is my apprentice brother Ho Muchen.” He introduced the sallow faced man next to him. Unlike everyone else Tian had seen in this sect, Ho carried a wide saber stuck through the belt of his robe. Also level seven. Tian was somewhat fascinated by him- the man had the most remarkable mole just under his left eye. Tian hardly ever saw cultivators with moles.

“A pleasure to meet you both.” He bowed again. Ho grunted and looked away, while Jun cupped his hands and returned the bow.

“Daoist Jun is cousins with Sister Lin.” Brother Wang chipped in.

“Oh? What brought you to the Bamboo Medicine Hut then?” Tian asked.

“Ah, well, the main line of the family is based on Ancient Crane Mountain. All us side branches of the Lin family scatter out to other sects in the Kingdom. My Jun family has been here for… twelve generations?” He glanced over at Lin, who shrugged and wiggled her hand.

“I see! I had no idea the Lin clan was so huge. Are you also a herb cultivator?”

That got a round of laughter from the table. “You really don’t know our clan at all, do you?” Jun shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. I didn’t grow up in the sect.”

“That might explain it. Most of the time we are animal tamers, sort of. More like we help animals and birds cultivate rather than use them to fight, but “animal tamer” is easier to say.”

“Fascinating. And the rest of the time?”

Jun chuckled, subtly straightening his back. Tian could see Lin doing the same out of the corner of his eye.

“The rest of the time we help animals awaken their spiritual intelligence. If you have ever met a guardian beast of a sect, or almost any animal that has its intelligence for that matter, odds are good that it was someone from the Lin Clan that helped them awaken.”

Tian had the inexplicable feeling that the world stumbled for a second. He wasn’t able to keep up with the sudden shifts in his mind. “Sorry, your clan… makes animals smart? Makes them talk?”

“‘Makes them’ might be too strong a phrase. We train them. We help them cultivate. And should an animal have the potential to unlock its spiritual intelegence, we help it examine whether it wants to do so. Then, if it has resolved to walk that hard road, we do our best to assist it in awakening. Leaving it’s bestial thought patterns and becoming closer to human in mind.”

Tian shook his head, trying to process the idea. How many animals were capable of cultivation? Should he take up vegetarianism?

“Why would an animal with the potential to awaken its spiritual intelligence not do so?” Sister Su asked.

Jun smiled. “They become a lot worse at cultivating for one, and suffer more. The better question might be, why do they choose to awaken?”

“They get worse at cultivating?” Brother Wang was openly disbelieving.

“Sure do. You can ask Cousin Lin if you like. Think of it this way- an animal cultivating in the wild is following its instincts. However it is cultivating is as close to perfect as it can manage, given its circumstances. Humans might not be so smart or lucky. It has no extraneous thoughts. It’s not worried about anything other than food, shelter, predators and mating. And it’s only worried about that last one at certain times of year, or even every few years, for a lot of species. But humans? Human minds are full of noise and desires.”

Tian could agree with that, certainly.

“More tea, Daoist Tian?” Disciple Shu gestured towards the pot.

“Gladly. Thank you.” Tian smiled and handed back his cup. The conversation swirled on around them, going back and forth over the virtues of self awareness as opposed to an animalistic no-self. Tian reckoned he was a long way from having a useful opinion there. He liked to think, but sometimes, he really needed to stop thinking for a while. How could he say one is better than the other?

“Daoist Tian has a lot on his mind. If I may ask…” Shu scootched a little closer to Tian, keeping her voice soft and low.

“It’s a bit bleak for the tea table, I’m afraid. It hasn’t been a good…” Tian tried to think. How old was he when he left the temple? Twelve? Thirteen? Thirteen felt right. So he had been out for almost two years. “It has been a difficult couple of years.”

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“You were in the wastes the whole time?”

“Pretty much. Violence was like the dust- it got into everything.” He smiled bitterly. “Even my mind, it seems.”

“But as a doctor, you would have been kept out of it, right?” Shu asked.

“Not a doctor. I was an orderly. I mopped up floors, moved patients between beds, made sure they took their medicine, changed bandages, things like that. Hauled bodies to be incinerated. Calmed frantic sect-siblings. Sat with the wounded and the dying. And that was when I was on base. I didn’t do that many patrols, really. Not compared to many others. But…”

“Was it terrible?” She asked, voice even softer.

Terrible? Yes, it was terrible. But so are a lot of things. “Terrible,” “awful,” “cruel,” “stupid,” what cheap words. How do you explain what it feels like to fight with actual monsters and monstrous people, watching your sect brothers and sisters get hurt and die around you, all for a cause you don’t understand? How do you explain that it wasn’t just living through that, it was the coming back home to peace and people who… who could imagine it was terrible, if they were required to think about it. And they didn’t think about it unless they were required to.

How do you explain feeling betrayed by people who never met you, never heard of you, and who probably consider themselves patriots?

He took a long drink of the tea, letting the sweet flavor and floral aroma seep into him. Letting the tea qi carry away some of the bitterness. It truly was good tea, and worth savoring. He sighed and set the little porcelain cup down with a soft clack on the stone table.

“Sorry. I really don’t want to talk about it. I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you can’t understand and I don’t want you to understand. Not really.”

“Why?” She looked hurt.

“Because you would have to live through what we did. You seem like a nice person. Why would I wish that on you?” Tian tried to smile. It didn’t come out well.

The sallow Ho snorted from across the table. “I have no interest in understanding a coward’s thoughts.”

The conversation stopped dead, as though every throat was slit.

“Things got messy and now you are all broken up about it? Pathetic.” Ho didn’t deign to look at Tian, slurping his tea noisily.

Tian and Shu had been keeping their voices low, but everyone at the table was a cultivator. Ho had been listening in.

“And do you know anything about things getting messy, Daoist Ho?” Sister Hong’s voice was silky smooth.

“Heh. Who do you think is keeping the bandits down while you are playing slap and tickle with the heretics in the desert?”

“Not you.” Tian was quite proud of the way he kept his breathing steady and his hands flat on the table. “I’d believe it was this little sister Shu before I believed you got that saber bloody.”

“Oh? Are there many bandits around here?” Sister Su asked. If you didn’t know her, you might miss the killing edge to her words.

“Not anymore.” Ho finished off his tea with a loud slurp and jabbed his cup towards Shu with a leer. “Top me up.”

She silently poured for him. Tian didn’t even glance her way. He could feel the shame radiating off of her just fine.

“Saber cultivators are known for being straightforward and domineering. I see Daoist Ho is true to form.” Brother Wang sounded downright friendly. Tian couldn’t remember anything about his battle history. Actually… he didn’t know anything much about Brother Wang. Funny. Hours and hours of conversation, but the big man said nothing personal about himself after the initial introductions. For someone who acted so sloppy, he was quite careful. That said some interesting things. When the screaming in his head stopped, Tian would definitely reflect on them.

Elder Feng had specifically permitted exchanging pointers with the disciples of the Bamboo Medicine Hut. From the context, it sounded like another word for sparring.

“I see clearly and speak plainly. Any who disagree are fools. If they don’t like my judgement, that is their own weakness speaking.” Ho took another sip and smacked his lips appreciatively. “Good tea, but wine would be better. Strong wine is a warrior’s water! ”

“That is some remarkably bold boasting, speaking to a Level Nine. Or does he think… he does think that. Sister Su is level nine and incapacitated. She can’t fight him. It would be “bullying” for Brother Wang to fight Ho. He doesn’t put Sister Hong in his eyes at all. He won’t even look at her, like she’s something disgusting. So naturally he will fight me. I’m one level below him, and maybe half his age, but he will find some nonsense excuse to justify the level difference.”

Tian took a slow breath and looked over at his sectmates. Sister Hong met his look, and the fury in her eyes almost had him jumping from the table. She had worked out exactly what he had. Tian opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it.

“Funny. I was just thinking the only way you would find the guts to kill a chicken was if you were dead drunk, and here you are, straightforwardly and domineeringly admitting it.” She “smiled” at Ho. “I’ve been stepping over corpses since I was five years old, and killed my first heretic before I turned twelve. I’ve been in the field for what feels like half my life, and here you are, sitting around and waving your toy saber like you did something. Like you earned a shred of respect from actual warriors.”

She finished her own cup. “Fragrent tea. Not fragrant enough to cover the smell of a bitch coward. After you piss yourself enough times, the smell soaks into the skin. No matter how much you scrub, it never quite comes out. And you aren’t one for soap, are you?”

She leaned on the table, resting her chin on her fist. “You aren’t going to challenge me though. You are going to come up with some bullshit reason about how it’s below your dignity, or you will be blamed for bullying a girl or some other transparent lie. Or worse, you mean it. And the only reason you could think that is because no woman thought you were worth correcting. Not even your own mother thought you were worth teaching. And you know what? She was right.”

Ho was turning a remarkable series of colors, ranging from dead-fish white to centipede-guts purple. Tian would have happily matched them to various conditions in his medicine manuals, but he didn’t remember a diagnosis severe enough for what Hong was doing to the subject. Eventually the man sputtered and shot to his feet. “Do you dare-”

“Let me stop you there, Ho,” Tian slowly rose from the stone table “Before you say something that gets you killed. I’m permitted to exchange pointers. Why don’t we skip all the lies about why you couldn’t possibly fight Sister Hong and all the posturing and puffing to try to get me to fight above my level. You are quite right. I really do dare fight above my level. At least, if it’s you I’m fighting. And while I haven’t seen Brother Wang fight, I can tell you that your remains would be collected with a mop and bucket if you fought Sister Su. So no one expects you to challenge above your level.”

Tian smiled and bowed apologetically to the table. “I’m sorry I gave you all a bad impression earlier. Usually, I’m scrupulously polite. I assure you, I meant no disrespect whatsoever to the Bamboo Medicine Hut, or to fellow Daoist Jun. I am even willing to extend a shred of courtesy to this Ho. So is there anyone here who likes him enough to drag him away before I break him in front of everyone he knows?”