"You are not listening, xiǎo yǒu," said the old man, cocking his head to one side and peering at him thoughtfully. "Those things from your song – like the Cry of the Stream – can you see any around here?"
Chún furrowed his brow and then looked around. "There Senior, in that hollow, beside the stream in that patch of golden light beneath the wings of the roosting Golden Crow - This one sees green, yellow, and blue mists... some green motes, not many," Chún pointed hesitantly as Yijing raised his eyebrows and hopped off the log, gesturing Chún to follow as he moved towards the spot Chún indicated.
"xiǎo yǒu, you are talented. It took me many years of honing my essence sense to perceive what you can sense naturally. Now," Yijing said as they reached the small fold in the ground, "stretch out your staff hand - put it into the mists as you see them, that's right," he said encouragingly as Chún stretched his hand out, "concentrate on what you sense, focus", Yijing gripped Chún's outstretched arm and suddenly Chún heard the sound of a large drum echoing. "That is me you sense, xiǎo yǒu, now pay attention as I push my perception out into the essence".
Chún heard the drum beats slow and echo, then a counterpoint bell-like sound, like the chimes from Yijing 's staff. The drumbeats slowly returned, then faded as Yijing released his arm. The bells remained—sharper now without the drums. "Follow the essence xiǎo yǒu. You can give it more energy or slow it, gather it or thin it".
"This one heard your drums, honoured elder… but now hears chimes—what is to be done?"
Yijing stroked his beard, "Increase the beat, add notes, make it louder or softer... follow the song that's there, but give it more, show it more".
Chún thought about the bells swelling and the chimes sang like the big bells the cow-herders used, motes of verdant green springing like a fountain as the mists coalesced and pooled in the hollow with a joyful peal.
With a breath-stealing flash, the essence—what else could it be?—blazed opal green and surged outward, rippling like a stone dropped in a pond. The energy crashed into his body, washing away his tiredness and clearing his head. It splashed and rebounded from trees, plants, and stone, rippling outward like wind through a field. His body hummed. A gentle warmth spread through every part of him—stronger even than when drinking Yijing's water.
Chún stared in shock at the hollow. Before there had been just ordinary grass there. Now, half foot tall strands of a silver green grass swayed in the breeze, a much thicker opal mist swirling out from it. Glittering opal motes scattered in all directions and Chún heard crisp-clear chimes as the leaves shook.
"What... Senior?"
"En. Good. Good. Thousand year grass on your first attempt."
Chún gasped. Thousand year grass was a plant prized by Cultivators for its rich essence, but was difficult to find as very few grasses lasted long enough to develop the characteristics.
"This one could sell this, honoured elder, and never need return to the village again!"
Yijing frowned. "A cultivator would think that way Rén Chún. Do you think this a wise use of your talent?"
Chún stopped and looked around. All around, he could see more mists and motes than he'd ever seen in one place before, rising from dips and rises, trees and plants around the Thousand year grass. And he felt...
Chún frowned. All the stories told of cultivators said they would be drained of essence after performing great feats - or that the essence around them was drained. But he felt stronger, and there was clearly more essence present than before...
"Senior, what are we?"
"Many of us have spent thousands of years debating that, xiǎo yǒu," mused Yijing quietly, leaning on his stave and watching the Thousand year grass sway, "So far all we can agree on is that we are the Heaven's Balance to the ones that call themselves Cultivators. I would say", he turned and spat meditatively, "that we are True Cultivators, where the Locusts are Consumers. We grow and cultivate the," he turned and jabbed his stave at Chún, "as you named them—treasures of Heaven and Earth—we strengthen Essence and are strengthened in turn".
He glanced toward the roosting Golden Crow and remarked, "We can talk while you gather your flock".
Chún jolted upright as his attention was drawn to the lengthening shadows and honks of the geese already gathering at the entrance to the pasture and spun to gather his items. "Senior, it was barely the time of Soaring Crow, what happened?"
"Igniting essence always takes time. Especially in the beginning - you will lose yourself. Fortunately, you are talented and it was only a small Thousand Year Grass, so it was only a few hours", Yijing's voice took on a lecturing tone, "So if you ignite essence alone, start small and make sure you are in a safe area where you will not be found. Do not attempt to ignite an essence larger than your level of ability", he said sternly, "You will either die of essence drain or be immolated from essence overflow - and if you are cursed to escape that - you will overload and detonate when the ignition wave hits you".
Chún blinked. "Senior, how will I know when an essence is too large?" he panted, chasing the last of the flock together to the entrance and calling out the marching sound, "Yi, yi yi...", starting the flock bustling down the mountain trail with their usual cacophony.
"Do not attempt to ignite essence any larger than what we did today, until," Yijing looked at him sternly, "you feel no effect from the ignition waves. Then only select essence slightly larger - repeat the process and so on."
"The ignition wave—was that the ripple at the end?" clarified Chún, setting Yijing's head nodding in satisfaction. "Good. A sensible head on those shoulders. Yes, that is the wave of essence that is produced when the essence ignites - our bodies are purified and strengthened by it - it literally burns out the impurities in our bodies, tempering them and empowering them to channel and amplify larger amounts of essence."
Chún thumped his herding staff on the ground thoughtfully as the flock continued down towards the village. Headed for their pen where they knew warmth and food awaited, they needed little herding on the trip back. "And igniting - is like lighting a fire in the essence?"
Yijing shook his head. "No, it is more like strengthening and adding to it - the spark is already there but it is not large enough, yes? You said this one heard chimes and saw the mist?"
Chún waved his staff at a few geese that seemed to be getting slightly rambunctious and grunted affirmatively. "That happens naturally, especially in places like the mountain," answered the old man in response, "in certain places the energy of Heaven and Earth collects and becomes essence. That spark was likely Earth essence from the hollow, Water from the mists of the stream and Fire or Power itself from the 'Golden Crow' - as the Consumers insist on calling it.
Yijing thumped his staff again as they continued down the trail, "Over a long period of time if nothing disturbs it, the essence grows concentrated enough that it invokes the Dao Laws of the essences that have collected - and creation itself - which in turn releases more essence..."
Yijing's voice became softer, reverent, so that Chún had to concentrate to hear him. "One of our number says, the universe itself was born from a single ignition of the Dao like that, and the Dao of Fire in the sky also... that the act of creation releases energy itself..."
He tapped his stave authoritatively, "We - you and I and others like us - are born with the ability to amplify the essence - we channel it from around us and out to form the Dao Laws as guided by the spark. You, heard the music strengthen as you followed it, yes? The essence guided you in what was required for it to reach its Dao."
"Then… this one did not create the Thousand Year Grass. It was always possible. This one only gave it breath," Chún said thoughtfully, "It was always - no, the possibility was there. This one only gave it fuel... drawn from the world around him?"
Yijing smiled, "Yes, we draw the essence in and concentrate it as we are guided - and then it feeds us - when the act of creation creates more essence. In essence - hah - we balance consumption and creation."
"And each wave of essence strengthens the energy of Heaven and Earth where it touches, creating more sparks... I saw so many afterwards..."
"Yes, xiǎo yǒu. That was a small wave, as only a small treasure was born, so it wouldn't have affected much - perhaps half a li, or so".
"But how is that different from Cul - forgive me Honored Senior - Consumers? The tales say they temper their bodies with essence and treasures and they create artifacts and gather essence with formations and..." Yijing's stave poked Chún sharply in the ribs and he snapped his mouth shut, rubbing his side sheepishly.
"Consumers do not temper their bodies with essence directly," the old man snapped sharply, "They consume it and try to hold it inside of them in areas where essence pools naturally in their bodies. The tempering is an after effect as they circulate essence through their meridians artificially using techniques they've developed. They lose some back outward while they consume, but in the end there is always LESS than what was there to begin with. Any they retain or build themselves they hold tightly - and only release it out to perform their techniques. Then they consume even more essence to replenish what they lost."
Yijing shook his head wearily. "Artifacts and pills are the same—essence resources are burned and forged to create something else. The only exceptions are Heavenly Tribulations, which release a great deal of essence when a Consumer forces the formation of Dao. That is what they refer to as 'breaking through'. But these tribulations form naturally, and the essence released is destructive.
Once in a great while, a Consumer grows beyond consumption and grasps the Dao. At that point, they begin to produce Dao Laws naturally, and their tribulations become beneficial. These are World Stage existences—ones who begin to create realms of their own, becoming true Cultivators who generate more essence than they consume.
But those are one in a thousand trillion Consumers. To reach that stage, they burn through countless treasures—enough essence to create a universe.".
Chún listened raptly as his new mentor continued sadly, "And for every Consumer who begins to create instead of consume, there are uncountable others burning through essence treasures—consuming them as fast as they can seize or strip them from the world.".
Yijing snorted and raised his voice. "And where do all these treasures—essence stones, beasts, weapons, and million-year fruit named for humbling one's enemy into pig-faced disgrace—come from?"
Here the old monk puffed his chest out like a peacock and adopted a sonorous, wise tone. "...from ancient treasure troves of Great Sects of the past. Great treasure gardens that exist forever. Caves of essence. The bottom of great pools. Or inside hundred-thousand-season beasts, of course..."
Yijing lowered his voice and muttered out of the side of his mouth, peering around shiftily like a thief planning to rob someone, "Want to guess what they used to say a thousand years ago about where the treasures came from?"
Chún thought for a moment then groaned quietly. "This one is enlightened, honoured elder—of course. They said the same."
"Hah - as did those before them and those before that and them lot behind those... and always, always, burning treasures. At times, yes, a Sect does collapse and remains hidden for a while. But treasures take time to gather. Most sects do not simply vanish—they are conquered, and their resources plundered almost immediately. In truth, it is when the treasures run dry that most sects begin to wither."
Chún's voice held a note of bewilderment "And yet with so many Consumers there are always more treasures and secret lands...and you said it takes a long time for enough Essence to gather naturally to create treasures... how can they not see it, honoured elder?"
Yijing sighed; "Mostly it is because we hide."
As they reached the base of the mountain, Yijing stopped walking as the flock turned for home. "This one will not follow you into the village, my friend. Tell the villagers you are leaving and come back to the Thousand Year grass as the Golden Crow begins its flight. I will be waiting for you."
Chún swallowed heavily. "Honoured teacher." He set his staff aside with reverence, then knelt in the dust of the path and kowtowed three times. A light touch on his head made him look up, but only the fireflies of the lamps from the village below greeted his eyes as the last of the crow's feathers dropped behind the mountain.
Looking upward Chún felt tears run down his cheeks. "The Heavens have eyes," he whispered, gazing upward...
"...Treasures of Heaven, Your Grandmother! The Geese...!"
In the deepening twilight, a True Cultivator, a Balance of Heaven... racing after a flock of honking geese, the mountain echoing with their cries.