A Single Question

Night had drawn its velvet curtains over the world, the stars glimmering like diamonds sewn onto it. Smokeless spiritual flames danced at the center of the clearing, casting long shadows over the ground, like eerie fingers stretching into the darkness.

The atmosphere around the campfire was heavy.

After defeating the Behemoth, Qinghe's group had traveled till night and had now chosen to make camp here until daybreak. Facing such brutality for the first time, the disciples, who had only ever seen practice duels till now, felt sick at heart.

"Alright now, time to sleep," Qinghe suddenly broke the thick silence, his pleasant voice flowing over them, soothing them like cool water over a burn. "You have all barely formed your cultivation cores, your bodies still need rest. We will make directly for the hidden realm's exit tomorrow."

They still felt somehow uneasy, some of them sure that they'd replay the Behemoth's slaying in their dreams.

Seeing the gloomy atmosphere, one of the disciples tried to redirect everyone's focus. Raising his hand obediently, he asked Qinghe, "Senior Brother Feng! Can we ask you questions? We will sleep after that."

The eyes of the others brightened up at this chance to procrastinate. "Yes, yes, please Senior Brother!" they started pleading.

Qinghe smiled helplessly and acquiesced. "Just one question then. Discuss amongst yourselves and choose what to ask. Keep in mind that I am not all-knowing."

Nodding, the juniors crowded around the fire, excitedly discussing. It seemed that they had chosen to firmly and consciously put behind their gloom.

Qinghe and Jing Shui were sitting on a thick fallen log a bit further from the campfire. They looked contentedly at the animated group of juniors.

"You know, I also want to ask you a few questions," Jing Shui spoke suddenly.

Qinghe nodded resignedly. Unlike the juniors, they seniors did not need sleep all that much. So unfortunately, Qinghe couldn't use shooing him to bed as a way to limit or evade Jing Shui's questions. All he could do was answer him.

"Wait until the young ones fall asleep. You can ask me then."

Jing Shui raised an eyebrow. "I will ask you later then, but will you answer?"

Qinghe chuckled silently. "We will see."

Jing Shui didn't push and let it go for now.

Seeing that they hadn't chosen a question even after twenty minutes had passed and that they had now even started arguing between themselves, Qinghe decided to prompt, "Have you decided what to ask?"

The chatter faded and they turned to him with conflicting expressions tinted with curiosity.

"Senior Brother, we have decided but…we do not know if it would be appropriate to ask." The one who answered was the very same boy who had spoken at the beginning.

"Oh?" Now this made him curious.

"We don't know if the answer might be some secret or hidden technique. If you decide not to answer, then can we ask another question?" the boy asked bravely.

Qinghe felt amused. Did they want to forestall their bedtime that badly? Or did asking him a question really matter so much?

Smiling placidly, he said, "Alright, then. You can. Now ask your question."

Everyone elbowed each other, and the boy from before ended up having to speak again. "Uhm…yes. It's about when, uh… when we killed the Behemoth."

Qinghe patiently nodded, not urging him to speak faster. That horror was fresh yet in their young minds, it was only natural to stumble over words while speaking about it.

"When those few people tried to injure it using spiritual attacks, they said that their spiritual energy was sucked into the Behemoth's skin upon impact. We all heard Senior Brother explain that. But we also saw clearly that your weapon did not dissolve." Facing Qinghe's intently listening look, the boy took a deep breath before proceeding to the important point. "So our question is this: Why didn't Senior Brother Feng's weapon get absorbed by the Behemoth even though it was inside of it?"

Qinghe smiled brightly. This was actually a very discerning question. He turned to Junior Brother Wen and asked him, "Was this question proposed by this junior brother?"

Warily, Junior Brother Wen answered, "Yes. What of it?"

Unexpectedly, Qinghe actually praised him, "As expected of Junior Brother Wen! You are certainly very perceptive!"

Junior Brother Wen was so dumbfounded that he couldn't even return a snarky reply.

"Then let me answer this question. It does not require a special skill or hidden technique, so no worries. It is actually quite simple."

Everyone leaned forward, eager to miss not even a word.

"All you need is precise control and willpower."

"…"

Where was this simple?! Senior Martial Brother Feng, are you mocking us?

Seeing their disbelief written plain on their faces, Qinghe felt wronged. It had really felt simple to him, okay?

Seeing his lost expression, Jing Shui suddenly spoke, "Brother Feng, do you truly not know how difficult it is to maintain that much precise control over spiritual force, especially through pure willpower?"

Qinghe frowned. Even though he was careful enough, it seemed he had still given something away. Oh well, there was no helping it.

"Brother Jing, I have always been good with precision and control when it comes to my spiritual energy. As for willpower… it was a side effect of my childhood."

Silence reigned. Exactly what level of monstrous upbringing did it have to be to produce this level of willpower in someone? They hadn't known that their friendly and gentle Senior Brother Feng might have had such a tragic past. To have grown into such a man from that kind of a childhood, no wonder he had such extraordinary willpower.

Finding himself sudden bathed in sympathetic gazes, Qinghe tilted his head in confusion. Why did it seem like he was suddenly the odd one out here?

Seeing that this guy was still oblivious to what he had given away about his past, Jing Shui interrupted, "Alright, your Senior Brother has answered your question. Stop pestering him and go to sleep."

The disciples were suddenly all too eager to escape this awkward situation and swiftly set up their beds and laid down to sleep.

"I'd like to say one last thing," Qinghe suddenly said.

Everyone paused in their actions and looked at him, waiting.

"Since I have answered your question, I want you all to listen to my request in return."

They looked at each other in confusion. A request? What could Senior Martial Brother possibly need from them?

In a solemn tone, Qinghe spoke, "I want you to remember today. Remember the Behemoth. Remember how it died, the brutality of it. Remember its suffering, the hunger that haunted it even in its death. Remember all of it. That is why we cultivators of the current generation have pledged not to kill as rashly as the ones who came before us. That is why we must not fight to kill unless there is far more at stake. Each life is so precious and maintained with so much hard work, ending it carelessly is a sin. I want you all to understand this and remember."

Contemplating faces surrounded the fire. They were all young and rash and itching to make some honorable kills that would elevate their positions in their sects and win them reputation. But after hearing Qinghe speak, for the first time they understood how thoughtless they had been. They solemnly engraved their Senior Brother's words into their hearts and swore to carry them throughout their lives.

They suddenly understood what a mistake they had been about to make. They had been so caught up with superficial glory while they forgot what it meant to cultivate to reach the Heavens. How would they be able to ascend if they were weighed down by such petty matters like fame and reputation? If they killed indiscriminately for such things, would the Heavens even accept them? Living humbly and modestly while treasuring each and every life, they had to work hard with sincerity to reach the great heights of Heaven.

It was with this poignant and mature feeling that they finally laid down to rest.

The smokeless and soundless spiritual flames burned unceasingly and the junior disciples soon fell asleep under the weight of their own heavy thoughts and exhaustion.

Confirming that they were truly sleeping, Jing Shui turned to Qinghe, "Shall I ask my questions now?"