The morning after his first successful village trip, Chún was still in good spirits—despite being back in one of his makeshift loincloths, to avoid ruining any of his new clothes.
He had spent the remainder of the previous afternoon carefully putting away his new acquisitions—especially the shovel and axe.
His locus did not like the metal tools, but Chún had pointed out that if he were in a situation where it was not possible to shift earth with Essence, or if he needed to cut things that did not want to part with their Essence, the axe would be useful. Using Metal or Earth Essence on items not designed to cut in order to provide a sharpened edge was Essence-expensive and not always appropriate. And it was far easier than hacking away with a flint.
Chún had planted the dòufu beans in his little growing plot in the clearing. The farmers in the village always planted dòufu on alternate fields each year, as it always made the crops grow better the following season. He had made sure to mention this to the Heaven and Earth Vine—thinking she might find a way to use the dòufu to her advantage.
He wondered if that would result in the grass in the clearing being replaced by dòufu. The mental image made him chuckle. Having dòufu was almost better than rice or bread at times, so it was not an entirely unwelcome thought.
It was somewhat vexing that he had not been able to obtain salt from the village—so he could not process the beans—but he had not truly expected to find or afford the expensive commodity, and had not bothered asking.
Frankly, the fact that he had been able to trade for as much as he had was already remarkable. Chún was fairly sure it was only because this was the local market village that catered to hunters and gatherers bringing in Essence resources from the wilderness, as well as the produce from nearby farming hamlets.
The blacksmith had told him the next major market day was in two xún—ten-day cycles—when pedlars would arrive with a much broader range of goods - rather than just the day to day offerings of the villagers. That gave him nineteen days to organise his next set of projects: building the kiln to make bowls and cups and perhaps small pots for plants; learning more about the Manifestations his locus had shown him; exploring more of the Mountain; helping his locus with whatever Essence tasks it was willing to teach him—and he thought he might have an idea about the salt as well. If he managed it, that would be an excellent trade item indeed.
He also needed to begin having serious 'discussions' with his locus. Based on the events of the last few days, it seemed either Yijing had not fully explained the Manifestation–Formation concept, or else he himself had been unaware of how natural Manifestations were created. Chún was beginning to suspect that Yijing's bias against Consumers had skewed his teachings somewhat. His locus, he was realising, was a far better guide.
A pulse of affection came from his Mountain friend, and Chún smiled, pausing his exercises on a handy tree limb as he wiped sweat from his brow. One of the last things he had done the previous evening was to travel back to the monkey troupe and spend a shí observing the way they moved and play-fought with each other. He had even seen a challenge battle between two of the larger males over a female.
Since he had not been in a complete panic this time, he had been able to watch their movements very carefully with his Essence sense, and had gained a much clearer understanding of their natural fighting motions.
While he was in the village, he had passed the old Storyteller, surrounded as always by children listening to him retell ancient tales of wǔshù fighters. That had reminded Chún that most regular martial arts styles were originally copied from animals—Tiger, Dragon, Crane.
So he had used his Essence to watch the monkeys' Dao of Movement more closely. Not Tiger, not Dragon—just Monkey. All of it: play, fight, leap, fall. One Dao of movement.
If a monkey could shape its Dao, then so could I. Theirs was instinct. Mine would be choice.
He was using Monkey Movement to build his muscle memory; as an orphan, he had learnt the hard way that fights were often decided in miǎo, let alone shùn. His recent experiences had reinforced that—he had been fortunate to escape unscathed, but instinctive reactions alone were not enough.
He could not afford to keep depending on fortune to survive. The use of Essence was making his body stronger, but he could still be easily hurt or killed if he did not use that strength properly.
So he had to develop an instinctive way of moving himself out of danger. Thus, he spent the morning leaping between the trees around the clearing, training his muscles and Essence in Monkey Movement until he no longer had to think about it.
With each circuit he slowly reduced the amount of Essence he channelled through the pattern; he wanted his body to react and strengthen without depending on Essence. Too often he dreamt of fights where Essence would not flow.
His body was adapting rapidly, probably due to the continual improvements Essence had been shaping. He also noticed his Essence flowed smoother and faster through the Monkey Movement, with less needed to achieve the same shifts—a sign this was the correct path.
At first he had worried that training his Essence to move like a monkey might twist his own Dao. But keeping watch with his Essence sense, he saw it merely altered the flow of his Essence, without changing his Dao. The stream may follow a new bend, yet it is still the same river.
That likely meant he could learn more than one Movement Dao; perhaps even combine them into a form best suited for himself. He wondered whether he dared ask the Flood Dragon for advice—perhaps he would try the Silver Snake first.
Finishing his set, Chún dropped from the trees to the edge of the clearing. Bark creaked under his palms, leaves tore as he swung past, and the rush of air filled his ears. He landed lightly, chest heaving, sweat stinging his eyes—just as a sharp cracking sound echoed from the cliff face.
"What…?" Startled, he leapt aside—only to hear the same sound again. Looking down, he saw a familiar tuft of grass fading into view.
"Ice-cracking grass? But that was on the other side! Why is it here?"
Scanning further, he saw another tuft becoming half-transparent in the Golden Crow light.
Dropping into Essence sense, Chún realised that the obnoxiously familiar Dao pattern of his failed experiment now ringed the entire perimeter of the clearing—an invisible wall.
"That is deliberate. Why would—" He looked up at the Heaven and Earth Vine in confusion.
A pulse of annoyance at his slowness pressed into his mind, accompanied by an image: an Essence Beast creeping into the clearing, only to step upon Ice-cracking grass no matter where it entered.
"Oh. I suppose it is useful after all. Still vexing though."
The Vine pulsed smug satisfaction. Chún sighed. "You are impossible."
Muttering, he walked to the centre of the clearing and began mimicking the monkeys' fighting movements on the ground rather than in the trees.
After bathing and a breakfast of vine fruits, Chún decided it was time to tackle his question about Dao Manifestations with the Mountain. Sitting on the boulder he used to dry his clothes, he pushed his confusion through their link.
"Friend, Teacher said the Formations set by Consumers are bad. But what we did yesterday…"
An image formed in his mind: a Consumer hammering odd stakes into the soil, pasting talismans onto rock, shoving trees aside to force them into a shape. Then ramming their own Essence into the pattern, branding it over the land like a hot iron.
"Ow. That is what they do?"
Another image followed: a Consumer taking more time—planting trees and rocks in positions, letting the area fill with Essence over years. It was full of gaps and leaked Essence, but it maintained itself and seemed closer to what his locus had asked him to help with.
"Hm. That looks better. Obviously they did not understand the pattern completely…"
The view shifted to a bird's-eye perspective. Suddenly the Essence flow looked wrong. Great streams diverted to feed the forced pattern, dimming some areas to near nothingness, while other places swelled grotesquely from leakage.
What had looked beautiful to the eyes appeared under Essence sense like a sore spread across the landscape—infecting, not harmonising.
Chún shuddered. "Very well. But then what is the difference from what we did yesterday?"
The image changed to their work of the day before: a natural Essence ignition, the excess channelled and linked to an existing point without disturbance. Another ignition added, then another—until a circuit was complete. More Essence was generated, sustaining the pattern. Excess trickled outward gently, strengthening plants and soil.
"Right. So a Manifestation is already there in the Essence points—trees, rocks, beasts—and only needs connection. The circuit then supports itself and the land. You are saying this happens naturally?"
A blur of images followed: Essence points igniting, sometimes linking; Essence strengthening, forming new points, faster and faster, until webs of Manifestations sprawled across mountainsides.
"So what we did yesterday might normally take… a hundred years?"
Negation.
"A thousand?"
Still more.
"Ten thousand?"
The yes-and-no sensation returned, and Chún swallowed. Perhaps ten thousand years to form a single pattern—achieved yesterday in the space of a couple of shí.
"If I keep helping, you are going to advance very quickly…"
A new vision came: Consumers cutting down, burning, fighting—dumping wild Essence, warping forests, collapsing Manifestations. Maddened Essence Beasts spilling outward across the land.
Chún choked. "Keep the Consumers away. Understood."
Another vision followed: the Mountain undisturbed, but ignitions snowballing—greater and greater Essence Beasts rising, battling, until patterns clashed and shattered into a vast ignition wave that destroyed everything.
"Son of a boar! What in the Heavens was that?"
An image: a gardener pruning branches, harvesting fruit, planting anew.
"Ah… so Teacher did not know the whole of it. Consumers are needed too—to keep things from running wild. So if those Eradicators had their way…"
The image of a planet ballooning into a star, and then—nothingness.
"And if Consumers harvest everything, we get a dead world. Too much harvest, the field dies. Too much growth, the forest chokes. Balance is the Dao."
Affirmation.
Chún slid from the boulder and went to collect his staff, sack, and the new knife leaning by the cliff face. "I understand. I will do my best, my friend. Speaking of which—" He hefted his foraging gear. "I feel like exploring. Care to point me towards an Essence point or two I have not seen before? I will go hunting for dinner at the same time."
Whistling, he trotted towards the treeline—vaulting into the branches just before the Ice-cracking Grass perimeter—with a cheerful song trailing behind him:
"Clean air and Golden Crow's fire,Bird-song and Earth's breath…
Better than gold,
More precious than, power…
Treasures of Heaven; Treasures of Earth—Even monkeys sing them, in their way."
…and beneath the words, the Mountain's deep timbre thrummed in agreement.