Modern Patriarch

Chapter 27(2/3): Seris Village

There were two mortal villages that Yao Shen could have claimed to have been intimately acquainted with. The first was the village he was born and brought up in, his talent as a cultivator unearthed at the adolescent age of twelve. Back then he was not Yao Shen, the mighty Soul Emperor and the Master of the Modern Sect, but merely a pre-pubescent boy who had an inkling of talent in manipulating Qi. To leave behind everyone and everything he had ever known in their small, cozy village…. and to do so willingly, with the blessing of his parents— such was the allure of standing among the fabled warriors that could shatter mountains and reverse the flow of rivers.

Yao Shen could not help but recall the last time he had visited his birthplace, a hundred years after he had joined the Heavenly Sky Sect as a cultivator of the righteous path. He still remembered the conflicted emotions that he carried in his heart as if it were only yesterday, unsure himself why he had chosen to arrive now, gazing at his village from afar with a wistful expression on his face— for everyone he had ever known in the small village had perished, not to a rogue demonic cultivator or an errant spiritual beast, but instead to an absolute foe both the mortal man and cultivators faced alike: time.

Had Yao Shen recovered his memories of Earth back then, he would have understood that he sought closure for a relationship that he never had the privilege of having. A relationship that he had been robbed of.

Cultivation in the Heavenly Sky Sect had given Yao Shen almost no time to pursue other endeavors, for he had been whisked away from the simple life a mortal villager and introduced to the cutthroat world of cultivation overnight. Though the Heavenly Sky Sect did not outright forbid any disciple from returning home to visit their mortal parents, as an outer sect disciple who lacked both backing and background he could not have afforded any distractions if he wished to catch up to the arrogant Legacy Disciples and become a Core Disciple one day, himself.

It was only later, when Yao Shen involved himself more directly with the administration of the Sect did he realize that such an arrangement was intentional. He felt foolish for not having connected the dots earlier, foolish for never having wondered why mortals were not allowed into the Heavenly Sky Sect. Why there was a need at all to distinguish between mortals and cultivators, when they were both human?

The answer lay in one of the few history lessons that were taught to every disciple, regardless of background or upbringing: The Tale of Shan Lin— The cultivator who fell in love with a mortal woman. Though Yao Shen was sure that the tale had been romanticised over time, this was a true story passed down from generation to generation, a warning across time.

Shan Lin was described “as a cultivator of unequalled might, a true hegemon of the righteous path”. No details beyond that were given, but for an ancient cultivator to be described as such, if it were not exaggeration— then he was likely stronger, far stronger than Yao Shen himself. On the other hand, Yanmei Tao was described as a headstrong woman with a fiery temper, the woman known for her sharp tongue and her odd choice of profession: a woman blacksmith. Constastingly, Shan Lin could be described as the embodiment of the original values of the righteous path itself— noble, kind and virtuous, he made no distinction between mortal or cultivator, even believing that the demonic path’s twisted and foul cultivators could be reformed, could once again walk the path of righteousness.

Their paths intersected when Shan Lin stopped by her village, selflessly offering to heal every man, woman or child that required his aid. Despite his kindness, the villagers still feared Shan Lin. For back then, there existed no pact to restrict the activities of the demonic path, and the sect system had not been developed yet— for whilst Shan Lin was kind and noble, the others that united under the banner of the Righteous Path were not necessarily so. The villagers feared that a single misstep, a single errant word that the “lord cultivator” might take as an offense, would result in their doom.

But there was one woman who did not fear Shan Lin.

One woman who did not request anything from Shan Lin.

One woman who saw Shan Lin for what he truly was….. Just a man, of flesh and blood, who had stood alone for far too long.

Their relationship blossomed, for Shan Lin had finally found a woman that did not have her gaze clouded by awe, a woman that did not care for his unrivalled strength or cultivation. Shan Lin laughed like had never before, feeling joy and happiness that mere words alone could not describe. However as time passed, the bliss Shan Lin felt slowly came to a grinding halt. For whilst he loved Yanmei and he knew that she loved her back… there was a problem. With every passing year, time exacted its toll without mercy— her originally lush black hair slowly losing its vitality as the strands of grey started gaining prominence. Her smooth, light brown skin having lost its enchanting lustre, the wrinkles of age now visible on her still beautiful visage. Her sharp, daring grey eyes that once made him fall in love with her, now concealed a hint of exhaustion that could not be hidden from his senses.

Both of them knew that this day would eventually come. But for Shan Lin, a cultivator who had lived for an unknown number of years…. He had not known… not expected it to be so fast. With each passing year, the smile on Shan Lin’s face grew more forced, until he stopped smiling altogether. As the day of parting grew nearer, Shan Lin grew more and more desperate. Utilizing the resources of the righteous path, he explored solutions in a multitude of fields ranging from alchemy to even mortal folk cures, whilst the other cultivators of the righteous path started to express worry at his stability.

When Yanmei Tao, the love of his life, lay floating on a bed of water, her skin withered, her face gaunt and pale, her bones brittle— Shan Lin finally snapped. If the righteous path did not have the answer, then he would go to the demonic path. The Demons, cunning as cruel as ever, would not miss on such a heaven sent opportunity to sow discord— so they gave Shan Lin what he wanted, without exacting a price.

For the true price lay in the method itself.

The once paragon of the righteous path ended up committing the greatest sin of all, as he slaughtered an entire town of mortals, laying down an evil, tainted blood path formation. Such was Shan Lin’s genius in the Dao of Formations, requiring merely a few days of preparation to master such a complex formation.

He saw as the the life breathed back into Yanmei’s aged body, as she broke one cultivation level after the next. Early Stage Qi-Formation….Early Stage Foundation Establishment… Early Stage Core Formation…. With every cultivation level Yanmei broke, the effects of time reversed itself until she was reverted to the state when Shan Lin first met her, a young woman in her early twenties. However her expression grew increasingly horrified as she got back upon her feet and looked around at the death and devastation Shan Lin had caused, breaking out into tears.

The half-crazed Shan Lin heaved a sigh of relief as he embraced her, only to notice a disturbance in her vitality.

Surprisingly, Yanmei embraced him back as tightly as she could, whilst Shan Lin’s heart sank into the bottom of the abyss.

She uttered three words, three unexpected words that made Shan Lin realize the horror of his own actions, the foolishness of his own decision to trust the demonic path for even one second…. And finally, to realize what a monster he had become.

“I forgive you,” She said, as two trails of black tears flowed down her cheeks. With it, her core shattered and she immediately reverted back to her aged state, drawing her last breath not long after.

Thus went the tragedy of Shan Lin, who died deep in demonic path territory in his pursuit of vengeance, alone eliminating over a thousand demonic path cultivators before he met his end…. and also the reason why righteous path sects encouraged one to sever attachments with the mortal world.

Yao Shen realized that whilst he originally found logic in this rationale, his beliefs had changed after inheriting his memories of earth. Separating the mortal world from the world of cultivators was not an action borne out of caution, but of cowardice.

To love his mortal parents would be inviting the inevitable pain of separation into his life. A century was a long time for a cultivator, but for mortals, it was their entire lifespan. It would be pain unlike anything Yao Shen had felt before, and yet…

Was it better not to love at all, for fear of the anguish it would bring?

Preposterous!

Yao Shen would choose to love and hurt, rather than choosing not to love at all. Cultivators were men and women who braved swords and spears, the fury of the elements and the wrath of the Heavenly Dao— what was a little pain in face of that?

Yao Shen would not tolerate such foolishness in his vision for the Modern Sect, but change could not happen overnight.

The second time Yao Shen had intimately acquainted himself with a village and its populace was a few years after he had ascended to the Nascent Soul Stage. He wandered the Azlak Plains in search of ways to improve his cultivation, his position as a Sect Elder of a relatively unimportant post allowing him to take extended sabaticals without causing many issues for the Heavenly Sky Sect.

However, Yao Shen was a much different man back then. His ascension to the Nascent Soul stage had been fraught with peril, and whilst he had succeeded in the end…. that did not prevent his insecurities from gnawing at the weaknesses in his psyche. While Yao Shen had always been known for his mental fortitude, that did not mean that he was infallible— for as an Elder, his weapon was inferior for his station, his older methods no longer suitable for the Nascent Soul Stage and his talent, lacking. Had he not been so vehemently opposed to accepting the aid of one of the legacy families and thereby indirectly pledging his loyalty, his progression would have been far smoother.

Many months passed by as Yao Shen scoured the Azlak Plains for opportunity, only to be disappointed time after time. That was not to say that his journey bore no fruits at all, for he had encountered Qi Springs that were guarded by Spritual Beasts which he slew, and occasionally encountered a natural treasure or two. The only problem was, they were far too weak to have an effect at his level, leaving Yao Shen no choice but to report the location of the Qi Springs to the Sect and move on.

Dejected but not disheartened, Yao Shen ultimately made the decision to turn back and return to the sect. For if Nascent Soul resources were so easily found, they would have already been long exhausted and he had a long lifespan ahead. On his return journey to the sect, Yao Shen’s divine sense detected a village around twenty li away from his current location.

Contrary to the conclusions the Elders or the other Patriarch’s might have drawn, Yao Shen’s foray into the Human Dao was not motivated by a thirst for power or ambition but rather, like some of humankind’s greatest inventions back on Planet Earth, it came to him through pure accident.

When he gazed at the village from afar, it reminded him of the peaceful and tranquil life he had originally lived. His attempt to get closure at his birthplace had resulted in failure, for Yao Shen had eventually decided against visiting the village. For the Heavenly Sky Sect had made sure that word of his accomplishments had spread to every nook and cranny of the village, part of their subtle propaganda to encourage mortals, for them to want to join the sect of purported immortals, instead of fearing the routine clashes with demonic sects and spiritual beasts. For this very reason his portrait was nigh enshrined in the village’s makeshift assembly hall and his mortal parents had lived the lives of kings, showered in mortal gold and expensive luxuries.

He had no heart to visit a village full of sycophants who yearned for his favor, yearned to stand where he stood, without realizing that the grass was not necessarily greener on the other side; especially not for non-legacy disciples.

However, this new village that he had stumbled upon provided him with an opportunity to experience the life that he had been robbed of. Unlike most cultivators, Yao Shen had never held any disdain for mortals— for while it was in the nature of cultivators to seek power and face the might of the heavens, arrogance had never been his calling. It was hard not to be arrogant, for these were existences that danced at the edge of life and death, few experiences able to compare to testing the wrath of the heavens themselves and surviving. He did not blame them, but he could not be like them either.

So Yao Shen seized the opportunity, approaching the Heavenly Sky Sect guardian who was stationed at the village in secret. With his help and his oath to keep Yao Shen’s activities secret, they crafted a backstory that would sound believable to the villagers of Nariri Village. He introduced himself to the villagers as a migrant from a neighboring village who had decided to part ways after he lost his wife to sickness, simply a mortal man who wished to start afresh— willing to work hard in exchange for food and shelter.

Since the guardian, who had returned to his post, quickly verified that Yao Shen was who he claimed to be and not some nefarious demonic cultivator in disguise, the village chief accepted him into their community, moved by his story. For a mortal man willing to brave the journey through the Azlak Plains unescorted, was either a bold or truly desperate one.

For the next six months, Yao Shen lived the life of a mortal villager. In the day, he toiled in the wheat fields. Harvesting the stalks of wheat with his crude sickle at the slow, cumbersome speed of mortals and surprisingly, finding the action cathartic. Had Yao Shen felt the fatigue from his work like the other villagers, perhaps his opinion would be different.

However, through the repeating the process day after painstaking day, Yao Shen gained an insight. This entire field of wheat, he could harvest alone in an instant, thresh it and separate the chaff from the grain perfectly. However, it took the combined efforts of ten villagers, even then taking close to a month. And somehow, Yao Shen found that inefficient, obsolete and time-consuming method so much more meaningful.

When he first tasted the Ciapa, a spiced mortal flatbread that was cooked using the wheat he had harvested by hand at the Uttrala, one of the few annual holidays and a festival that celebrated a successful harvest, he could not help but swear that it tasted better than the finest cuts of spiritual beast meat he had sampled in his life.

His worldview and perception of mortals gradually started changing, his duties shifted from harvesting to planting new seeds, that would require much care to grow into crop that would feed the village. His free time was spent mingling with the villagers, spending his hard earned coin on new clothes, lean cuts of meat and whatever else attracted his fancy.

Yao Shen came to realize that mortals were no lesser for not being able to cultivate, only making him wonder what criteria the heavenly dao used to separate the worthy from the unworthy, who deserved to be able to cultivate and who did not. If anything, they were greater— for while cultivators often lived reclusive and aloof lives, mortals did not have the luxury of waiting. Their lives were but a blip in the timespans of powerful cultivators like Yao Shen himself, but that did not mean they did not have the same hopes, dreams and ambitions as himself— but even further magnified, spurred on by the finitude of life.

When Yao Shen asked himself the question back then, if he would be happier if he had never awakened his talents as a cultivator or not…. He realized that he had no answer to that question. To live a short life, where both happiness and sorrow, joy and despair, love and hatred were magnified endlessly, or to live for far longer, overcoming great challenges and often finding himself alone in the pursuit of the laws of the world, the great secrets of Eliria.

Yao Shen did not have an answer.

And it was in that moment, that the world exploded in color. His Human Dao awakened. It would take many years for Yao Shen to understand his new power, and even longer to conceptualize his domain into reality.

Perhaps what triggered his awakening was the realization that cultivators and mortals, while at an outward glance were so different physiologically that they could be labelled different species, at the heart of it were just…. humans. No different from each other, no more or less superior than each other, driven by the same conceptualisations of love, hate, desire, sorrow, life, death, regret, anguish and determination.

Merely humans.

And now, as Yao Shen floated above Seris Village, announcing his presence so that his sudden arrival would not alarm the villagers, he had one singular question that he sought an answer to.

One question that he required the answer to, if he were to envision a better future for mortals as he laid down his foundation for the mortal sect. A future where mortals were no longer entirely powerless in face of the whims of cultivators, himself included.

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