Chún arrived back at the Heaven and Earth Vine's clearing without further incident. Occasionally, a feather of the Golden Crow broke through the clouds, casting a gentle glow that lifted his spirits even further.
The air here felt different now—less like a place he had stumbled into, more like a home being quietly offered.
He laid his burdens aside, stretched out his back, and began searching for dry branches to make a fire. He looked beneath the thick foliage of large trees, where the ground might have stayed dry through the morning shower.
It had not rained heavily, so he quickly gathered a large bundle of dry wood and dragged it to a wide patch of bare stony earth to the right of the clearing.
There he paused, gazing down at the exposed dirt. There was likely something solid beneath it—perhaps stone—which made it ideal for a fire. But could he shift the ground like he had with the Essence Beast's remains? He recalled Teacher's comment that True Cultivators left behind "inheritances" for Consumers—surely they did not have entire construction crews and Essence forgers in tow. That implied True Cultivators must be able to create things directly with Essence... perhaps?
Drawing a deep breath, Chún knelt and pressed his palm to the ground. Recalling the Mountain's memory of the panther battle, he pushed Essence into the earth, picturing a shallow cooking pit like those used by villagers.
Without fuss—aside from the now-familiar glow and harmonious tones of working with Essence—the ground rippled into a neat pit an arm-span deep and two across. It was lined with seamless stone, like a smooth basin had been sunk into the earth.
That worked. Maybe he could do more?
He pushed more Essence into the pit. It widened slightly, and a second, thinner basin—like a pot—rose up at the centre, about a hand and a half across and just higher than the outer rim. He rapped it with his knuckles. Thin, but solid.
Grinning, Chún dashed into the cave to retrieve his small sack of fire-starting flint and punk.
A diǎng later, the outer ring of the pit crackled with a healthy fire. The inner pot bubbled with water fetched from a stream that skirted the clearing and vanished under the Heaven and Earth Vine—likely the same stream that fed the cave pool. He had added a handful of herbs, wild garlic, and onion.
He opened the panther's pelt, used a sturdy branch to skewer chunks of meat and organ, and dropped them into the boiling water.
Once the meat was in, he dug a toe into the ground beside the fire, pushing his Essence inward with the thought of sealing the inner pot. As hoped, stone formed a lid—save for a small steam vent at the top.
"Predator's meat is tough and stringy—leave it for a few hours. Fire can burn down to coals... Add vegetables in an hour or two," he muttered, and moved to his shirt sack, untying the knots and laying out fruit and vegetables before the fire.
He selected the largest fruit and bit into one, grinning. "Better than those withered old apples..."
Sitting cross-legged, he sorted through his foraged produce. The hardest roots and gourds he wrapped in the large fallen leaves of the ubiquitous Heaven and Earth Vine, waiting for the fire to burn low so he could bury them in the coals to roast.
The smallest vegetables and withered fruits—including the apples—he took to the far end of the clearing, beside the stream, where the grass was thick and the soil dark and rich.
He patted the earth with his foot. The grass turned over in perfect furrows. He nodded in satisfaction, then snorted. "Essence is a cheat. Forget Consumers—if the village farmers saw this, they would never let me leave again..." He laughed. "I suppose all that farm work was finally good for something."
He worked quickly, planting the smallest vegetables and withered fruits. Then he knelt and channelled Essence into the soil, worried the plants might be too dead to grow.
Explosions of green Essence burst forth—especially from the apples and root vegetables—then merged into a sweeping green-brown ripple that raced across the clearing, splashing up the cliff where the Heaven and Earth Vine hung.
The massive vine fruits trembled like struck bells. Essence motes scattered in vibrant, glimmering fountains, swirling through the air like fireworks. Chún could sense the fruits' spinning Essence flows brighten and accelerate. From the Mountain came a hum of warm gratitude.
He stood still for a moment, then let out a breath and shook his head in quiet wonder.
Chún shook his head at the glowing clearing, cool air, and surging vitality.
"It will take some getting used to."
He turned to search for a place to squat and relieve himself, planning to bury it like the panther's blood and entrails.
By the time Chún stepped out of the cave again, the Golden Crow was returning to its nest. He was dressed in another set of rough clothing. Hours had passed tidying the cave and clearing to his satisfaction, gathering more firewood, and foraging for seeds—all while keeping his Essence sense alert for danger.
He had thickened his sleeping mat with dry grasses and leaves.
He had also washed his soiled clothing in the Earth-fire-heated spring using soap grass. It had nearly scalded him, but his clothes had never been cleaner.
Then he had bathed in the cave pool, where spring water mixed with the stream. He kept to the warmer side.
He emerged surprisingly clean—perhaps the cleanest he had ever been. His skin looked paler, smoother. But perhaps it was only because he had shed more layers of grime than usual.
What shocked him most was the constant inflow and outflow of water in the pool. He wondered if even nobles had such fine bathing facilities. The village storyteller had never mentioned anything like it.
Returning to the fire pit, Chún scratched his head, realising he had no way to serve the stew.
"I really need bowls, pots, cups... anything," he grumbled, and looked around for inspiration.
"There is bamboo, but I would need something sharp... and time. Grow wooden bowls? Sigh... perhaps a stone bowl is just a small pot?"
He tried focusing his Essence on a nearby stone to form it into a bowl. His Essence flowed around it, but the rock remained unchanged.
"Hmm?" Perplexed, Chún frowned. Why was this harder than before?
A ripple of amusement and faint annoyance pulsed from the Mountain. A memory surfaced—revealing that it had been the Mountain, not Chún, shaping the earth. It had acted in response to his intent, using his Essence to shape itself.
Chún flushed. That made more sense than him being some kind of genius stone-shaper. "I am sorry, Mountain. I did not mean to take credit..."
Warm acceptance flowed back.
"Can you help me make a bowl?" he asked.
Images flickered: the fire pit forming by shifting stone, the pot rising from displaced earth like a puzzle, all remaining connected to the Mountain.
"Separating pieces of yourself is hard... and changing stone into something it is not... also hard."
"So there is no way to eat the stew..." Chún glared at the pot. Hunger gnawed.
Trying to distract himself, he pulled some roasted vegetables from the coals using his stirring stick.
He had found some flint earlier while shaping the fire pit. Taking a sharp shard, he cut open the largest gourd. As he removed the top of the wild pumpkin—
—he paused. Of course.
"This could be a bowl... if I do not poke any holes." He scooped out the soft flesh and ate until he had hollowed out a decent cavity.
As he prepared to dip it into the pot, another thought struck.
"Mountain, can you rearrange the pot?"
He sent Essence forward, visualising stew pouring from a hole near the base of the pot into the pumpkin bowl, then resealing.
The stone shifted. Chún thrust the pumpkin beneath the new opening. The pot resealed itself just as the gourd brimmed.
"Finally! Food." He drank deeply and bit into a roasted root, sighing in satisfaction.
The warmth of the stew filled his belly. The breeze stirred his hair. The fire crackled low beside him. The flavours of root and spice lingered on his tongue.
As early stars peeked through the fading light, Chún sat by the fire, watching the Golden Crow's feathers trail gold and crimson across the sky. He listened to the wind in the trees, night-creatures stirring, and the crackle of flame.
It was the best meal he could remember.
"I have the pelt to trade. Best keep the Essence Stone—the villagers could not afford it, and it would bring trouble."
He spoke softly, keeping himself company.
"I will need more clothing... perhaps sell a few herbs. But I will have to disguise myself. I cannot just walk into a village with this kind of fortune."
He thought for a moment, then added:
"Still... I have never had it this good. As long as I can trade for what I cannot make... until the Mountain teaches me how to slap faces properly, I will have to be careful."
He chuckled, then turned thoughtful.
"I will study those Dao runes the Heaven and Earth Vine uses for concealment..."
But that, he decided, was for another day.
Tonight, he would eat, sleep, and be merry—
—for he had lived today.