Someone who treated every obstacle as something to overcome might miss the purpose of a formation designed to be approached with patience. And if the Moon-Mirror Cave had been sealed by the earliest masters of Mount Hua, its path might reveal as much as the chamber itself.
Their first discovery was a weathered stone marker half buried beneath moss. Most of its inscription had worn away, but Yan Cijin brushed the green growth aside and found a few surviving characters. She studied them, then stepped back and looked along the ravine.
"This was a training route," she said. "Not a road used by ordinary disciples. The wording suggests that practitioners came here to test their footwork and concentration."
Bai Li glanced at the marker. "The path would certainly test their patience."
"Perhaps that was part of the lesson."
"Then the old masters were cruel."
"Or they had excellent teachers."
