Every faction spent resources to cultivate disciples in order to sustain its development.
The mediocre labored with their bodies, taking on more miscellaneous duties to support the faction. They made up the largest number; though they did the lowliest work, they were indispensable.
Mediocrity was a relative concept. In recent years, the Golden Spirit Sect had selected its disciples from the best of the best in both aptitude and character, yet as time passed, clear stratification had still emerged.
Ji An believed that if Li Haoran took his disciples out to travel, those disciples would make no contribution to the sect while enjoying its unseen benefits. Cultivation arts were the greatest of those benefits.
In the end, they would share the bond of master and disciple with Li Haoran, yet lack any sense of identification with the sect.
Why did factions favor taking in young teenagers as disciples rather than young cultivators who already had a certain foundation?
Obviously, only by raising them from childhood could one foster feelings and a sense of belonging.
For disciples without a sense of belonging, no matter how high their aptitude and gifts were, no more resources could be invested in them. That would be like tossing Spirit Stones into the water—every last bit of it was sunk cost.
Li Haoran fell silent for a moment, then nodded. "Senior Brother is absolutely right. I did not think it through."
If their positions were reversed, and he had grown up outside with his master, he truly would not have any sense of belonging toward the sect.
"There is nothing in Junior Brother's heart but the sword. It is not that you failed to think it through—you simply never thought about it at all."
Ji An smiled. In his eyes, the other man was like one