Cultivation is Creation

I opened my mouth to respond, then stopped.

The answer should have been simple; I'd explained my motivations to my parents just hours ago. I cultivated to protect the people I cared about, to gain the power necessary to keep my family safe in a dangerous world.

But as I stood there in that golden paradise, surrounded by the casual display of divine power, I realized that wasn't actually an answer to his question.

Protecting myself and my family was my reason for cultivating, my immediate motivation. But the dao was something deeper, something that would guide my path long after my current goals were achieved or became irrelevant.

"I..." I started, then stopped again. "I don't actually know."

Sect Master Yuan nodded approvingly. "Good. The fact that you are thinking deeply about this rather than giving me a quick, superficial answer shows wisdom. Many young cultivators believe they understand their dao when they have only identified their immediate motivations."

The paradise around us shimmered slightly as he spoke, the light taking on different hues that seemed to reflect his words.

"In the lower stages of cultivation," he continued, "cultivators have many reasons to advance. Some seek power for its own sake, intoxicated by the ability to impose their will upon the world. Others pursue cultivation for revenge, driven by hatred for those who wronged them. Many are motivated by greed, by the desire for wealth and luxury that comes with strength. Some seek fame and recognition, wanting to be remembered as legends. Others chase immortality, terrified of death and willing to sacrifice anything for the chance to live forever."

I nodded, recognizing several of these motivations among the disciples I'd met at the sect.

Wei Lin's family connections had originally motivated him to seek advancement and make something out of himself separate to the Wei Clan name, though I suspected his dao ran deeper than mere social climbing.

As for Wu Kangming, outwardly, he seemed driven by revenge or his desire to save Wu Lihua from herself, but it was likely something more complex that he hasn't come to terms with yet.

"These are what we call weak daos," Sect Master Yuan explained. "Not because they cannot lead to power, indeed, some of the most fearsome cultivators in history have been driven by revenge or greed. But because they are fundamentally limited in scope and sustainability."

He gestured, and the scene around us shifted to show shadowy figures moving through a darker landscape. Not the torture realm from before, but something more like a battlefield where cultivators fought endlessly against each other and themselves.

"Consider the cultivator who pursues the dao of revenge," he said. "What happens when they succeed? When their enemy lies dead at their feet, when justice has been served, what then? Do they feel the satisfaction they expected? Or do they find themselves empty, their driving purpose fulfilled and nothing meaningful left to replace it?"

I thought about the stories I'd read back on Earth, both in books and in the experiences of real people. How often did achieving revenge actually bring peace? Most of the time, it just left people feeling hollow, realizing that their suffering hadn't actually been healed by causing suffering to others.

"They usually feel empty," I said. "Like they thought getting revenge would fix everything, but it just... doesn't."

"Precisely. And while it is not impossible to reach the peak with such a dao, it is extraordinarily difficult to maintain the state of revenge without losing yourself to it. Hatred is a poison that damages the vessel that contains it as much as the target it's aimed at. Eventually, the cultivator either burns themselves out or becomes something monstrous, consumed by the very emotion that once drove them to greatness."

The scene shifted again, showing different figures pursuing different goals:

A cultivator hoarding treasures until they were buried under their own greed.

Another becoming so obsessed with fame that they lost sight of genuine achievement.

A seeker of immortality who achieved eternal life but at the cost of everything that made existence meaningful.

"The same principle applies to all weak daos," Sect Master Yuan continued. "They are fundamentally external goals, dependent on circumstances that can change or be achieved. They provide no sustainable foundation for the endless journey of cultivation."

I was following along and felt like I understood the concept, but I knew there was a vast difference between thinking you understood something and truly comprehending it at a soul-deep level. This was clearly something I'd need to meditate on for years to fully grasp.

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"So, what makes a dao strong?" I asked.

"A strong dao is one that grows with the cultivator, that deepens and expands rather than being fulfilled and discarded. It is internally focused rather than dependent on external circumstances. It provides meaning not just for the present moment, but for the eternal journey ahead."

The paradise around us brightened again, and I could see some of the beings he'd called his children engaged in various activities. Some were teaching others, some were creating art, some were simply sitting in contemplation. But all of them radiated a sense of purpose that transcended immediate goals.

"My own dao, for example, is the Dao of Karma," he said, and suddenly everything about this encounter made perfect sense. "The understanding and guidance of the cosmic balance of cause and effect. Every action creates consequences that must eventually return to their source. Every deed, every thought, every choice sends ripples through the fabric of existence that will inevitably come home to roost."

I looked around at the paradise and remembered the screaming hell we'd started in, understanding flooding through me. "That's why you have both paradise and punishment in your inner world. You're managing the karmic consequences for the beings you've created."

"Exactly. This is not a goal that can be achieved and then set aside. Every soul I create, every choice they make, every consequence that flows from their actions - all of it requires careful observation, understanding, and guidance. The dao deepens with every cycle of cause and effect, becoming more complex and meaningful as the web of karma grows more intricate."

I found myself nodding, beginning to see the distinction.

A weak dao was like wanting to win a specific race, while a strong dao was like committing to a lifetime of running, always striving to become faster and go further.

But the Dao of Karma was even more profound than that, it was about understanding and working within the fundamental laws that governed all existence.

"But," Sect Master Yuan said, and his tone took on a note of warning that made me pay even closer attention, "whatever dao you eventually pursue, you must never lose yourself to it."

The paradise around us flickered, showing brief glimpses of other scenes - cultivators who had become so obsessed with their chosen paths that they'd sacrificed their humanity in pursuit of their ideals.

I saw a figure who might have once followed a similar path to the Sect Master, but had become consumed with enforcing karmic justice, becoming a tyrant who punished even the smallest transgressions with disproportionate cruelty. Another had become so detached from individual suffering that they treated conscious beings like chess pieces in some cosmic game.

"Even the Dao of Karma can become a prison if followed without wisdom and compassion," he said. "It would be easy to become cold and calculating, to see only the mathematical balance of cosmic justice while forgetting the importance of mercy and growth. The path of cultivation is long, and it is easy to lose sight of why you began walking it in the first place."

I thought about the promise I'd made to my parents, about the importance of remembering who I was beneath all the power and advancement. "Don't become something unrecognizable in pursuit of strength," I murmured.

"Exactly. Power without purpose is merely chaos. And purpose without humanity becomes fanaticism. Even cosmic justice must be tempered with understanding and the possibility of redemption."

The scene around us began to fade, returning to the neutral space where we'd started, though without the oppressive darkness and screaming. Now it was simply an empty void, comfortable and peaceful.

"What I have shown you today," Sect Master Yuan said, "is far more valuable than any technique or cultivation method I could have given you. Techniques can be learned by following specific steps, but comprehension of the dao is not so straightforward. While you can learn from demonstrations of others' dao paths, as I have shared insights from my own, ultimately it is up to each cultivator to find their own way."

I nodded, understanding the truth of his words. This wasn't the kind of knowledge you could simply memorize and apply. It required deep personal reflection and probably multiple lifetimes of experience to truly internalize.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "This is... this is exactly the kind of guidance I needed, even if I didn't know it."

"I wish you luck in the tournament," he replied. "It has been a long time since there have been so many exceptional talents competing in an Outer Sect Tournament. Your generation shows promise that has not been seen in centuries."

The compliment felt surprisingly meaningful coming from someone of his stature. If a Civilization Realm cultivator thought our group was exceptional, then we really were something special.

The sect master paused, studying me with those ancient eyes as his expression grew thoughtful.

"It is rare for me to see someone so young accrue so much karma," he said quietly. "Both you and Wu Kangming seem to have that in common. Most cultivators your age have barely begun to weave their threads into the cosmic tapestry, yet both of you carry the weight of significant karmic entanglements."

I felt a chill run down my spine.

Was this because of my previous life on Earth? Nearly two decades of existence there, even if mundane by cultivation standards, had still involved countless choices and actions that rippled outward. Every kindness shown, every cruel word spoken, every moment of selfishness or generosity - all of it accumulating into karmic weight that apparently followed me across dimensions.

As for Wu Kangming... that made sense too. With his mysterious sword saint mentor and that unmistakable protagonist aura he carried around, he'd probably been involved in all sorts of dramatic events that would generate massive karmic consequences. Ancient masters loved to drag their disciples through world-shaking adventures.

And if the Sect Master could detect protagonist-level figures by examining their karmic signatures, that would explain so much about his actions.

Song Xiang, the Outer Disciple who'd been taken as the Sect Master's personal student, I'd always wondered what made him so special.

Maybe it wasn't just his cultivation talent or mysterious background.

Maybe the Sect Master had looked at his karma and seen the telltale signs of someone destined for greatness.

It was like having a cheat code for identifying future powerhouses before they fully emerged.