Previously on Daily life of a cultivation judge...
Yang Qing undergoes a transformation as he takes the Heart-Quenching Mulberry Dew, his appearance shifting to white and radiating a calming energy. He experiences an illusionary river journey leading to a grim vision of a grieving father, Ma Yuan, mourning his daughter, Ma Ling, who was brutally murdered by remnants of the Ice Emerald Sect. After confronting Yang Qing, Ma Yuan and his daughter fade away, breaking the illusion and returning Yang Qing to reality, his appearance reverted and the effects of the dew neutralized.
"Truly insidious," Yang Qing softly uttered, his gaze fixed upon the heart-quenching mulberry dew. "Much like the instructors," he added with a faint, wry smile, gently shaking his head to dispel the lingering vision of Ma Yuan's parting smile and the lifeless form of his daughter, Ma Ling.
Yang Qing took a small sip of his wine, his eyes growing distant as he endeavored to untangle his thoughts and emotions following the distressing events he had witnessed. After a few moments, he released a sigh, the burden in his expression visibly lightening.
"We may possess abilities akin to gods, yet we are not gods ourselves. We are merely twigs adrift on the currents of life, differing from those who cannot cultivate only in that we perceive more. However, when it comes to directing the river's flow, we are just as powerless as they are. You can only do what you can do. Find peace with that..." Yang Qing murmured to himself.
These were the words spoken by the Vice Chancellor of the Institute during the assembly on Yang Qing's inaugural day. Before uttering them, he had instructed the first-year students to look to their left, then their right, their front, and their back. He warned them that for the faces they had seen, there was a distinct possibility they might never see them again due to death. Such was a potential fate for those who joined the Order, and the Institute's mission was to prevent or minimize these occurrences, thereby sparing Yang Qing and his peers from becoming desensitized to burying the faces of individuals they had known, interacted with, and even come to consider friends.
He proceeded to emphasize that, despite the comprehensive and extensive nature of their training and the enhanced preparedness it would afford them, the Institute was neither omniscient nor omnipotent.
While they wielded potent cultivation arts and spells, commanded vast resources, and possessed the knowledge to nurture powerful cultivators, their capabilities ultimately had boundaries. No matter how thoroughly they prepared students for the future, it did not guarantee foresight into its unfolding. And whatever preparations were provided, however exhaustive, would still fall short of encompassing all of life's perpetual surprises.
Consequently, it was crucial for them to gradually acclimate themselves to the reality that certain matters, regardless of their future power or preparedness, would remain beyond their ability to avoid or prevent. Internally, they needed to cultivate the understanding that, at some point, they might have to mourn and bury one of the faces around them—be it a fellow student from any year, an instructor, or even the Vice Chancellor himself.
He underscored this final point by revealing that, even as a Soul Formation expert, he too could perish for various reasons or find himself unable to rescue those dear to him, citing several instances where he had indeed failed.
Among these personal losses were four of his own disciples, his parents, and his siblings. Two of his disciples met their end while journeying across the continent, one succumbed to reaching the end of their natural lifespan, and the last perished during a tribulation failure. His parents and siblings, too, had passed on due to old age, which offered some solace as that was their natural cause of death.
Yang Qing and his cohort had to slowly cultivate acceptance for the inevitability of encountering situations in their lives that, despite their power or preparation, they could neither evade nor avert, for there were inherent limits to what cultivators could achieve, regardless of their might.
They were expected to reconcile with their limitations when such moments arose, but simultaneously, not be permanently constrained by them, as the very essence of cultivation was to defy fate. The directive was to accept what lies beyond one's capabilities, yet persistently endeavor to expand those capacities.
At the time, this counsel did not resonate as profoundly with the young Yang Qing as it should have. His mind was preoccupied with reveling in his newfound liberty from his clan and fantasizing about the vast potential that lay before him, now that he had gained entry into one of the continent's most formidable organizations.
His sole focus then was on how to distinguish himself to be showered with resources, accolades, and the preferential treatment afforded to exceptional talents. He had no interest in discussions about limitations; in fact, he felt he was already ahead of the curve in that regard. After all, hadn't it been his clear-eyed recognition of his own limitations that had guided him to the Order's doorstep?
His swift acknowledgment of the situation prompted an immediate flight for survival the moment he perceived peculiar glances from his grandfather and the other clan members. Their smiles, their offers of food – surprisingly delicious, he discovered – contrasted sharply with the bitter potions and poorly prepared spirit herbs and meats they had previously provided with utter indifference. Had it not been for his mother's culinary skills, he would have developed a profound aversion to food, avoiding it entirely once his body adapted to no longer needing it for sustenance.
Fortunately, such an extreme outcome was averted.
It was his resignation to his inability to alter the Yang Clan's fixation on the body refinement realm and their perilous training methods that spurred Yang Qing's decision to escape the instant he noticed the unusual kindness shown by his kinsmen.
Consequently, the Vice Chancellor's pronouncements at that time held little weight for him. Only after commencing his duties as a judge, grappling with an unending stream of cases that illuminated the dark depths of the cultivation world, did those words begin to resonate. Each case adjudicated, each valuation conducted during his external assignments, and his direct exposure to the world's unforgiving nature allowed those words to strike a deeper chord.
Yet, it was the devastating news of Lai Lei's grievous injuries, reaching a point where not only crippling but even death was a distinct possibility, that truly and irrevocably solidified their meaning within him.
