He huffs a rueful laugh. "Even cultivators who do not follow my path can speak with the dead easily enough."

For a moment, as he looks over the lake, his gaze turns abstracted, distant. (It is easy -- too easy -- to picture the water flowering with lotus blossoms, and to hear gentle laughter beside him.)

"But yes -- 'morally bankrupt.'" He shakes his head. "That is how the great sects would decribe it, too. I once tried to argue that energy is energy, whether it is spiritual or resentful, but that did not get me anywhere. In fact, it got a scroll thrown at my head."

He glances sidelong at Ciri.

Lighter: "It's all right. I dodged it. I'm very quick on my feet."