Until the sound of the Golden Crow rising set the Mountain vibrating, Chún slept.
When he awoke, his sleeping nest was clean. Unlike the previous morning, he smelled fresh, felt energetic, and was only slightly hungry.
Relieved not to need chores this morning, he paused to examine the cave. As he rolled up his sleeping pad beside his staff and belongings, he glanced around.
Other than the stream, pool, and hot spring, the cave did not have any other notable physical features besides an opening high above his head that let fresh air circulate through the entrance.
If it was not for the motes of Air Essence he could sense swirling upward or downward depending on which way the breeze was blowing, or the occasional draft across his skin, he would not know it was there.
Without Chún's Essence sense, the cave would be pitch dark, except for the faint light trickling in from the cliff-side tunnel. The old man had been right. Eventually, he would need to ask his new friend to help make this place more liveable.
But first, he had to get the fur to the village. None of yesterday's plans had gone anywhere, and now new chores pressed in before he could return to Cultivation.
Still, there was one success. He could now visualise the Natural Manifestation of "going unnoticed."
He had only begun to grasp it, but already he could sense how to shape his Essence to match.
It was not so much a technique as a feeling—like recognising the parts of his Dao that preferred solitude and asking them to work together. The result was an aura of unimportance, gently radiating outward.
Well... something like that. He understood what he meant. Explaining it clearly to someone else?
Not important. What mattered was that he could feel the shape of it now. And he finally understood what Yījīng had meant. One could guide, but never truly teach Dao. Every person had to find their own. Borrowing someone else's Dao would always create conflict.
After tidying, he stepped slowly through the tunnel, letting his eyes adjust to the growing light. Just inside the curtain of earth to heaven vine leaves, he paused for a miǐiào, and brushed a leaf with his Essence sense.
The Dao patterns had grown complex. His mind still insisted he was holding nothing, even as he looked at his hands gently cupping the leaf and felt its large, waxy surface.
The same silence and blandness remained, but now he sensed more: hidden, secret, dangerous, unique, isolated. The patterns were brighter, more harmonious than before. He was starting to match shape to concept.
Chún shook his head, a twist of concern pulsing through him as he recognised that his own attempts to understand the concept of hiding had affected or taught the vine as well. If everything he did with Essence impacted the Dao of everything around him, he needed to be much more careful. He released the leaf with deliberate gentleness and stepped out into the clearing. No need for another mishap.
On his way to the fire-pit, he noticed he had not put on clothes since bathing. He faltered, then shrugged. No one else was here. After burning his ruined set, he had only two changes left. Best to save them until necessary—especially if more black gunk was in his future.
A tingle from the Mountain reminded him: refill the stew pot. He sent back thanks, turned to the stream, and used his Teacher's trick. The water Essence followed his suggestion with ease now, pulling the water along with it, flowing into the pot almost without thought. He had grown stronger.
He took the opportunity to water the fruit, vegetable, and Essence herb patch. Pushing his Essence into the soil, he checked the plants.
Everything had grown fast. The root vegetables had already begun to split, and the apple tree saplings had developed tiny, green fruit, Dao patterns swirling tightly within.
Above the soil, small fountains of Essence marked each plant, with especially large ones for the apple saplings. He would not be surprised if one ignited soon. If that happened, the rest might follow. Maybe he would get ripe fruit. Maybe even a mature tree or two.
The patch did not really need more water or Essence. The entire clearing was saturated. With his Essence sense, he felt the perfume of Air, Earth, and Water Essence soaking everything.
The mist drifted from the Heaven and Earth Vine's trumpet flowers, blanketing the clearing and hiding its edges. He could no longer see more than a few armspans into the forest.
He understood why. The mist carried Dao shapes of concealment and protection. Simpler than those on the Vine, but unmistakable. They had not been there yesterday. The Vine had grown stronger and adapted what it had learnt from his own efforts.
The prickle of unease at unintended consequences plucked at him again. "I hope I have not twisted the dao of the Vine with my experiment," he muttered worriedly as he watched the essence shapes shift within the mist.
A quiet pulse of reassurance and a sudden sense that the clearing had always been the work of the earth to heaven vine, emanated from his link to the Mountain. No Beasts ever entered. It killed anything that came close and fed on it—explaining the rich soil. Then Teacher had asked the vine to protect him.
Chún felt awe that the vine had just done what his Teacher had asked, just because He was a True Cultivator. He hoped to grow as strong as his Teacher to earn such respect himself one day.
A protective feeling welled up from his locus, and he smiled. He spoke aloud, just to hear a voice. "I know you would not hurt me. But the Heaven and Earth Vine is like you—it has its own... consciousness."
That still felt strange to say. A week ago, he would not have believed such a thing was possible.
"I guess Cultivation makes me smarter as well as stronger. I am building my own Dao, so I am becoming more myself. Like fixing a damaged house—closer to perfection, the more complete it becomes."
A thought struck him. "Then using someone else's Dao is like adding mismatched rooms. And since Consumers do not understand the Daos they borrow, their additions are even worse."
He stopped redirecting the water and walked to collect the fish flopping on the ground. Still musing, he added, "They would need to keep adding support to prevent collapse. Like old fool Zi in the village. He never did listen to anyone who told him he needed to build proper foundations and frames into that rickety extension of his. Then one night, boom. Down it came. Even the original house."
The Mountain offered an image of the cave, and Chún laughed. "Yes, your cave is much better than a house. Better than any I have seen." He dropped the fish into the pot one by one.
New images flowed: the Vine on the Mountain, then the cliff without it, then the Vine alone, withering.
Chún frowned, then nodded. "So... the Vine needs you? Not the other way around? That is why it will not harm me—because you would be angry."
Smugness.
Chún snorted. "Fine. It is part of the Mountain. But it is still the host. I should be a respectful guest."
Then came another image. The Vine shifted. Leaves moved like snakes. Flash of Essence. It became a tree.
"Oh—the Five Elements TreeTeacher mentioned?" Agreement.
Then it changed again.
"A girl? What..." A child-like figure. Skin the colour of the Vine's leaves. Hair like the flowers. Eyes without pupils, swirling with Essence like the fruit.
The image lingered longer than he expected.
It faded. The cliff returned. The Vine. Overlaid, faint and green, the girl sleeping.
"She is asleep—like you were? Oh... and you are saying this is her house."
Another image: Chún holding her hand as Essence flowed through him, into the Vine, and then the Mountain. Jealousy.
He blinked at the feeling, uncertain whether to be amused or unsettled.
"Hey. Do not be jealous. That was an accident. You could call it paying rent." He scratched his head and walked back toward the cave. "Do you need more Essence too?"
A series of images answered: trickles of Essence from every use, surges from ignitions, and torrents from channelling the Vine.
"So whenever something grows stronger on the Mountain, you do too? That is why you like when I ignite Essence points."
Smugness.
Chún rolled his eyes, then tensed as a thought struck him.
"Wait. Are you a girl too?"
Disdain.
He sighed in relief and ducked beneath the vines at the entrance. Their touch on his bare skin made him wince.
"Suddenly," he muttered, "extra clothes seem a lot more important." He ignored the wave of confusion. "Not important. Just a human thing," he said, jogging into the cave. "Let us go hunting!"
---
Chún moved through the forest using his walking pole to probe for anything that could turn an ankle in the leaf litter, following the sense map his friend was supplementing his own Essence sense with, while eating a Vine fruit. Several had dropped as he had left the cave, dressed and ready for gathering provisions—like he had been yesterday, before he had gone and done something foolish—so he had bowed carefully in thanks and put them in his sack to eat while he was moving.
"Half a dozen yaro, a few beets, wild onions, a cluster of plums... two rabbits. Hm. Not bad. Time to head back?"
Unlike last time, he was carrying the vegetables and fruit in the sack over one shoulder and the rabbits were hanging from his rope by their feet on the other. He had gutted them the same way as the Essence Beast, but not skinned them—it was easy to carry them from the rope, so he did not need the skin for carrying bags.
A particular point ahead pulsed with some urgency. "Something important... or tasty?" Chún slowed cautiously and pushed his Essence sense out—focusing on the location, while throwing away the fruit and grasping his pole with both hands. The animal and bird sounds were constant around him, so he was fairly sure it was not a predator, but it never hurt to be careful.
He was greeted with what looked like a small pile of boulders—almost like a memorial or grave marker. In the dimly lit forest, the rocks seemed to glow faintly—and in Essence sense, they shimmered with motes of several different Essences.
Chún could see a lot of Earth, of course, but there was definitely something sharp there... Metal Essence? And something else…
"Lode...stone." A low rumbling 'voice' echoed down the link.
"Of course... wait…"
"Talk, hard."
Chún squatted in place, hanging onto his pole for support. "You can speak."
A sense of exasperation rolled down the link. "Right, obviously. My apologies. Just startled."
After a moment's silence he asked, "What about the rocks?"
More exasperation, then an image of the top of the cairn. Chún narrowed his eyes and moved over to look closer.
There was a large bush sprouting out from the top of one side of the rocks, roots wrapped tenaciously around them; it blended so well into the pile that he had missed it at first. Visibly, it looked nothing special—small, scraggly, almost brown—but in Essence sight it glittered with a fountain of motes. At first, he had thought they came from the rocks themselves.
"Oh, this is almost ready to Ignite... it just needs a small push." Satisfaction—and an image of the Heaven and Earth Vine mist curling around the rocks—answered him. "Ah. You want it hidden? Practice weaving the Unimportance Dao into it?"
Agreement came back, and Chún grinned. "As you wish. My first—well, second—official Cultivator task. Just ensure I do not lose myself again, please." He sat cross-legged on the forest floor and placed one hand gently on the rocks, the other resting his pole in his lap.
The bush already leaned toward concealment—its song was quiet and reserved. But it wanted change. Whatever it would become next was something... proud.
Chún considered. Then offered a suggestion. Perhaps only those who were worthy should be permitted to see its glory.
"See? You already have the parts," he said gently. "Just shift them into this shape... push the dull traits outward. Let others pass by, but preserve your splendour for the rare few. That would be radiant in its own way."
He spun a thread of Essence into the memory of the Vine vanishing and reappearing like a mirage, and wove it softly into the bush's song.
The bush listened. Then asked: how?
Most of the pattern was already in place. Chún showed it how to fold the 'dull' parts forward, like a shell. He offered the simple Manifestation of Un-noticeability he had once formed from his own Dao.
"Just arrange what you already have... Let it be a ward. Let only perceptive, safe beings pass through."
Together, they reshaped the song. Chún was careful not to force anything. He helped only where asked, never altering the essence shapes directly. Somehow, he felt that mattered.
When the bush was ready, he pushed Essence into the new shape it had threaded.
There was the bright flare of ignition—a bubble of silver and gold, slashed with crimson, that burst outward and struck him full in the chest. Like being struck by a bell forged from metal and light.
Still tingling with overload, Chún blinked and looked.
A miniature willow tree now stood on the cairn. Not a normal one. The trunk shimmered like polished silver. The leaves looked like jade, bronze, and gold. Tiny ruby fruits sparkled like gemstones among the branches.
He breathed, astonished. "You were sincere about being striking. Are you well?" He reached out reverently to touch one delicate leaf.
The tree rustled like wind chimes. A slender branch dipped and placed a single ruby fruit in his hand.
Startled, Chún bowed deeply. "A thousand thanks. You are resplendent. It was my honour to assist." He hesitated, feeling a twinge of failure. "But it appears I was unable to preserve your safety. I apologise."
The tree rustled again—this time like soft laughter. The same branch pointed behind him.
Chún looked, saw nothing, and assumed it was time to depart. He bowed once more, picked up his pole, sack, and rabbits. After a moment's pause, he tucked the ruby into his sash pouch and backed away respectfully, as though withdrawing from the presence of a revered immortal.
Three paces later, his vision dimmed slightly. He blinked. There was nothing unusual ahead. What had he been doing just now?
He frowned. Something was not right... a pile of rocks and...
A gentle push down the link from the Mountain snapped it into place. He gasped.
It had worked.
Not like the Vine exactly, but the little tree's own Dao of hidden. He had helped. He had done it.
He could do it! A flutter of pride rose in his chest, tempered by the mountain's watchful presence. He turned and sprinted back toward the clearing, leaping over fallen logs, light-footed with joy.
The Mountain sent him an image: him stumbling through the village, as he tried to avoid people blundering into him, unnoticed by anyone.
He laughed. "Well, yes... perhaps not quite like that. But it proves I can build Manifestations for others using my own comprehension! It works!"
A wave of doubt.
Yījīng's voice echoed: "Practice."
He sighed and grinned. "Yes, yes. Of course. Not ready yet. But give me a few more attempts..."
He slowed near the clearing. "Tomorrow, do you think? I truly do need robes, you know..."