After receiving a name, I followed Mistress Song to her room. She noted that as a master of cultivation, she was allowed to interact with the world outside this monastery, have personal possessions, and make connections to others. Apparently, these were privileges not allowed to initiates or novices. Which I was fine with, since I didn’t have the same depth of needs humans seem to come with. The mistress will treat me as a pet, as she doesn’t believe most of the other humans will actually believe I’m a fellow cultivator. In particular, those at my level and below haven’t yet let go of the arrogance and self-centeredness that’s second-nature to her species. I can understand this, and don’t mind being treated as a pet. It’s a lot easier than having to fend for myself.
The Mistress also explained that the monastery was a place for cultivators to learn and grow away from the larger world, in a place where qi was particularly easy to draw on. She also told me that the basic ranks of cultivators were Initiate, Novice, Adept, Expert, Master, Elder, and Ascendant, each ranked by how much qi they’d cultivated within themselves, and how well they’d developed their dao as a result.
Hm. Dao. Apparently it just means a path, or direction. But it also seems to be a step beyond mere sapience, as not every individual who can think for themselves has developed a dao. Without it, I think you’d be pretty easy to manipulate, and would lack a certain degree of willpower or force of personality. As a Novice, I’ve cultivated my qi into a singularity and come to fully grasp the basics of cultivation. But until I can fully grasp my personal dao, I won’t be an Adept. Seems simple enough.
Little tour of the monastery from there, though Mistress Song decides to carry me for most of it. I don’t mind, it’s a big place for a rabbit and most of the floors are stone or packed dirt. My paws were hurting a little just following her to her room.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
The monastery itself is surrounded by a large wall, with the outside dedicated to gardens and animal pens. I hear the death scream of another rabbit as we walk by a scary hut that reeks of blood, but just make a personal note to avoid that area. It seems Initiate Li is already learning to “respect life,” if I’m hearing right. Something about a horrible shriek and how disgusting the mess was.
Yeah, that’s right you sterile male. Rabbits die messy, and we tend to complain in ways that are targeted at annoying our killers. I can understand your perspective, but that doesn’t mean I like the idea of someone trying to kill me for his own amusement, then turning around and making someone else clean my carcass.
At any rate, the gardens were quite lovely. Lots of tasty beans, leafy greens, sweet roots, and other treats for a hungry rabbit, and all of it unusually rich in qi. The humans tending the gardens did look rather annoyed at my presence, but I could tell most of it was just habitual. And considering the only thing that kept me from diving head first into the buffet was a level of control no ordinary rabbit would have, I can’t blame them. I’d just have to make friends while they weren’t in the gardens, so they wouldn’t mind being the ones to make my food.
The main building of the monastery was a big structure with a kitchen, dining hall, and training hall on the bottom floor, and rooms for those who stayed within above. A separate building was reserved for humans to bathe in hot water, and there was a much larger space fenced off for training outside. Mistress Song told me that, while Initiates and Novices were forbidden from leaving the monastery grounds, that usually included the mountain valley the monastery itself was situated in. Initiate Li would be confined to the walls themselves. Suits him right.