Yunmeng Mountain was located in the eastern part of Hubei
Province, nestled in amongst other mountains. Before climbing the peak, Tanshi
asked a hunter who knew the area in a village nearby. The hunter told him that
the mountain was ill-favored; there were rumors that it was demonic in origin,
or at least that demons lived there. Even woodcutters and hunters avoided the
place.
Tanshi was not deterred. He made camp, then climbed Yunmeng
Mountain at dawn.
By the time Tanshi reached the halfway point, the sun was
risen high in the sky. The sunlight could barely be seen through the
encroaching fog laying thick over the mountain's bamboo forest. There were no
paths, and the bamboo dwarfed everything, so it was difficult going. Tanshi had
seen the last animal trails some time ago.
Leaning on his repaired pewter staff, Tanshi looked toward
the mountaintop. He was drenched in sweat, panting, but he could see the very
top sometimes, when it wasn't obscured by the fog moving over it in gray waves.
He couldn't tell what was up there yet, if anything; he'd have to keep
climbing.
Just beneath the fog-enshrouded peak, there was an irregular
layer of exposed rock that burnished red in the sunshine. Maybe it was a trick
of the light, but it seemed to be glowing from within. From what Tanshi could
see of the other mountains through the fog, Yunmeng Mountain had unique topography. No
other mountain was so densely covered in fog, and no other mountain had that
curious layer of red stone.
As he climbed, Tanshi got the strange impression that the
mountain was trying to hide itself from him. The fog grew thicker, and Tanshi
remembered what Chō Kin had said to him. "I don't think anyone climbs
Yunmeng Mountain. Like I said, it's only a tale, and no one actually believes
it." Tanshi saw Chō Kin's self-deprecating smile in his mind's eye.
Hidden in fog, Tanshi sensed a mysterious power that
reminded him of demons or the evil spirits that were sometimes said to dwell in
mountains and rivers. In this moment, he saw no contradiction between the world
he knew and a world where demons and spirits existed. By climbing Yunmeng
Mountain, Tanshi was trusting that the story Chō Kin had heard had some truth to it.
Maybe the Heavenly Book was real. There had to be some basis for the
story. It wouldn't have become a story unless someone else had climbed the
mountain and seen the book, or something like it. The mountain radiated energy
that he couldn't identify, but could feel, like gooseflesh that wouldn't go
away.
Tanshi was beginning to understand what the hunter in the
village had told him. Anyone would get a sense of foreboding, climbing this
mountain. But Tanshi didn't feel threatened by the energy that he sensed. He
took a break, then climbed again, seeking the peak.
***
As Tanshi resumed his trek, he remembered Ryū Gen's
excitement at seeing him again and stumbled over his next step. It had been an
awkward goodbye, and abrupt. Ryū Gen held no belief in reincarnation or an
afterlife. He believed that people lived one life, decomposed into dirt, and
that was all.
But Tanshi had been a monk for his entire life, and he
possessed an intimate understanding of reincarnation and the state of the soul.
Ryū Gen was a skeptic who didn't even believe in souls; Tanshi should not have
been surprised that he wouldn't believe in the Way of Shattering Earth.
Despite that, Ryū Gen had asked Tanshi to recite a
Buddhist prayer at the altar that enshrined the souls of his parents.
"Did he only do that because it's customary? Seems like
a contradiction," Tanshi muttered to himself. If Ryū Gen could see him
now, he'd probably laugh.
Tanshi believed that the Way of Shattering Earth was like
the soul. According to Daoist belief, the full span of human years was one
hundred and twenty; the only way to live longer was to practice arcane arts and
become a sage with eternal youth. Tanshi didn't want to wait to grow old to
become a sage. He was rushing into knowledge. He couldn't use patient methods,
taking things step-by-step and one step at a time. He needed to ascend the
staircase of knowledge three or four steps at a time—or, better, fly right to
the top of the staircase.
***
One of the more surprising aspects of the Way of Shattering
Earth was its ability to predict future events. Predicting the future was
useful in any case: knowing about harmful enemies in advance would help keep
the person safe and lead to a longer life.
There were also forbidden techniques that could deprive
another person of their freedom. So complete was this technique that the user
of the technique could use the captured person as a servant, bending them to
their will using telekinetic powers.
Other techniques included summoning lightning, controlling
evil spirits, animating golems made of paper or clay, and disguising one's true
appearance from others.
All of these techniques could be learned through rigorous
training, discipline, and the use of immortality pills and elixirs. Some of
the elixirs that were thought to be effective, like cinnabar, were actually not; some Daoists
were already aware of this and avoided using them. Cinnabar had been around for
hundreds of years, and there were some false Daoists who sold the substance to
make money, even though they were aware of the harmful effects of consuming it.
The government should have banned cinnabar long since, but government officials
also used it to make money. This despite the fact that several emperors had
died early from consuming cinnabar.
The widespread consumption of cinnabar demonstrated how
desperate so many people were to attain immortality. Tanshi was fortunate: he'd
never taken cinnabar. To his way of thinking, the only people who took it were hermits meditating on mountaintops until they inevitably died of old
age, and that foolish way of life held no appeal to Tanshi whatsoever.
During the long climb, there was a sudden change.
Up ahead, there were traces of something—or
someone—trampling through the undergrowth. The muddy ground underfoot retained
multiple footprints. Traces of fallen bamboo and cut grass extended to a rocky
area up ahead. To Tanshi, the footprints appeared recent, and the grass and
bamboo were still green.
Impossible. No one else should be up here. He'd seen no sign
of anyone so far, and it was hard for him to believe that many people would
climb this ill-starred mountain in the first place. Logic dictated a reason for
climbing Yunmeng Mountain. Were others here looking for Hakūn-do Cave and the
Way of Shattering Earth?
The idea made Tanshi feel humbled. Of course he wasn't the
first person to search for such power. He followed the trail of footprints to a
ravine, where all sign of people vanished again. The valley below Tanshi was
obscured by fog, so he couldn't see anything there, but the opposite side of
the ravine was clearly visible. The ravine was narrow here, a crack in the rock
of the mountain, something like thirty meters across.
Tanshi's gaze lingered on the opposite shore. The fog was
creeping up to the ravine now, but Tanshi thought that he saw movement. A swirl
of mist gave him the same feeling he'd felt before—the feeling of being close
to the mountain's spiritual energy. The feeling of being watched with murderous
intent.
There was no wind, but Tanshi shivered.
In the mist, a faint black shadow stretched out over the
ravine. It was a bridge, of sorts: a collection of rocks roughly three feet
wide and spaced at semiregular intervals. Not exactly a bridge, then, but the
rocks might be used as one. Tanshi wondered if the other people on Yunmeng
Mountain had made this bridge or if it was a natural occurrence. It was
impossible to tell, though it did seem awfully convenient.
Tanshi faced the rocks that spanned the ravine and
considered. If this was a bridge, he should cross it. But that was hazardous.
Every rock gleamed with moisture, shining black in the weak sunlight. The more
Tanshi looked, the more he felt that the bridge would reject his passage. The
slightest breeze would be enough to make him lose his footing and tumble into
the river below.
People probably weren't supposed to cross this bridge, but
that didn't stop Tanshi. He gathered his courage, gripped his staff for balance
and started crossing slowly, one step at a time. The uneveness of the rocks
made each step an unsteady one, but he managed to balance out his weight with
the staff.
About two meters short of the opposite shore, Tanshi
slipped. He vaulted on his staff and jumped to shore, just barely making it.
How many times has this staff saved me? Tanshi asked
himself. The mist swirled around him now, near-impenetrable. Tanshi struck the
ground with his staff—once, twice, thrice—to encourage himself. The prayer
rings atop the finial rang out pleasantly in the stillness.
Thus encouraged, Tanshi plunged into the mist. There was no
sign of the mysterious shadow that he'd seen before.
***
Lost in mist, Tanshi caught sight of a dark shadow up ahead.
It was not a person, but an opening; Tanshi was able to pass through it when he
drew near it. "A cave," Tanshi said. "Could this be Hakūn-do
Cave? Ah!"
The darkness and the mist lifted suddenly, all at once,
leaving Tanshi in bright sunlight. He shielded his eyes from the light with one
hand and slammed them shut. After a moment, he opened his eyes again, and found
himself in an entirely different world.
The mist was behind him: a thick and impenetrable curtain.
There was a faint musty smell like newly tilled earth. The cavern before him
was deep and tall, with four sheer walls that sloped toward the distant sky.
Sunlight shone in from above, piercing and bright. Flowers and herbs grew
thickly on the ground, carpeting it in a riot of color. It felt like spring to
Tanshi, though it was obviously autumn; he'd passed ripening fruit trees on his
way up the mountain. Clear springs bubbled up from the ground, shining in
rainbow colors.
Tanshi couldn't help himself: he smiled. Who would have
thought that this paradise rested atop Yunmeng Mountain, wreathed in grim gray
clouds. Was this the world of the gods? The Pure Land of the Buddha? The land
between life and death? He didn't know. He was so captivated by the cavern that
such questions seemed meaningless for the moment.
Then Tanshi noticed that there was another opening in the
cavern on the opposite side. He hadn't noticed it at first because it was
hidden by more mist. He approached the
opening curiously.
And then...
A deep, eerie sound like the roar of the wind. More sounds
lurked underneath that, unidentifiable. Tanshi sensed danger and crouched down
in a defensive stance.
The white mist covering the opening in the cavern rose up to
the sky, then descended upon a rock near where Tanshi stood. The mist
dissipated by slow degrees, revealing a humanoid shape in the center. When the
mist cleared, Tanshi saw that it was an ape carrying a staff. A large ape—at
least as tall as Tanshi was.
The ape laughed. His voice was strangely human. All of the
mist scattered, and the creature left behind was neither human nor ape but
something in between: a too-thin, white-bearded monster wearing a short white
robe, still bearing a staff. One of his eyes shone much brighter than the
other.
An immortal, Tanshi thought. No: a wizard. A
wizard like in the old legends, who could fly through the sky. This might be
the guardian of the Heavenly Book, and the Way of Shattering Earth!
To say that Tanshi was stunned would be understating things.
As he tried to make sense of everything, he felt the ape-man's gaze rest on
him, full of murderous intent.
Tanshi readied his pewter staff in case of danger. His
recent battles made his defensive stance more sure-footed and capable. His
aptitude for fighting might have been something innate.
"Well, well, well. No one has tried sneaking into
Hakūn-do Cave for quite some time. I must be losing my touch."
Tanshi forgot his fear. Hakūn-do Cave really existed! It
wasn't just a story. He was here.
The strange old man looked Tanshi up and down. Tanshi stared
back, staff half-raised. He wasn't about to let his guard down. He wasn't sure
how to proceed. Attacking before the old man did seemed unwise, even if the old
man did intend him harm.
"And who is our intruder, hm? Oh. A young human."1
The strange old man shook his head.
"Human?" Why not just say 'man?' Tanshi supposed
that the ape-man wasn't a human, but he wasn't sure what species he was,
exactly. He looked and spoke like an old man in his current guise.
Tanshi realized that he'd been thinking of the old man as
human when that wasn't the case.
"You look like a Buddhist monk," the old ape-man said.
So he knew of the Buddha. Had he assumed that Tanshi was a
monk because of his attire?
"How long has it been since someone came here, aside
from me?" Tanshi asked with a slight tremble to his voice.
"Oh... only thirteen hundred years or so."
"Thirteen hundred years?!"
"Yes, I believe so. I remember a man in the service of
Quin Shi Huang trying to get in then."
"Quin Shi Huang?" That was the very first Emperor
of a unified China.
"I imagine his bones have already decomposed at the
bottom of the valley," the strange old ape-man said.
Tanshi was astonished. Hearing about events that happened
more than a millennium ago seemed absolutely impossible. It would make more
sense for the strange old ape-man to be spinning a tale... but Tanshi thought he
was telling the truth. This place was outside of all usual rules of space and
time, separated from the mundane world. Anything could happen here.
And it was true that China was unified into an empire
thirteen hundred years ago. Quin Shi Huang was thirty-eight years old when he
brought an end to an era of endless warfare. He was the first of China's kings
to style himself an Emperor—a title that had only existed in legends up to
that point. The rulers of China still styled themselves Emperors and Empresses,
following his example.
Quin Shi Huang was a great unifier after his conquest; he
introduced many legislative reforms and laws to ensure that the country would
stay together. When he was about forty years old, he became obsessed with the
idea of immortality and elixirs to prolong his life. He desired to rule China
eternally so that it would always prosper.
In his obsessive quest, Quin Shi Huang fell prey to many
fraudulent elixirs. He visited Zhifu Island three times in his search for the
real thing. In one case, he sent Xu Fu, a Zhifu islander, with ships carrying
hundreds of young men and women in search of the mystical Penglai Mountain,
where the elixir was said to be. The expedition sought out Anqi Sheng, a
thousand-year-old magician who had supposedly invited Qin Shi Huang to visit
during a chance meeting during his campaign to unite China. The expedition
never returned, perhaps for fear of the consequences of failure. Legends
claimed that the expedition reached Japan and colonized it.
Around the 4th century BCE, Daoists who
practiced divine techniques claimed that people could live forever if they
received immortality elixirs from the immortals that lived on Zhifu, an islet
in Shandong Province. Quin Shi Huang had searched the islet thoroughly based on
these old rumors--and he'd searched other places as well.
Places like Yunmeng Mountain.
But Tanshi remembered seeing a shadow in the mist during his
climb up the mountain. "There must be someone who came here more
recently," Tanshi said.
"Only you were lucky enough to make it past the
stones," the strange old ape-man said. "I dropped the others into the
valley again. That's where they'll sleep forever, now." He cackled,
sounding just like a monkey. "You'll join them there soon enough."
Tanshi's eyes flared with hatred at this ruthless
revelation. He knew that he wouldn't be able to achieve his goals unless he
defeated this terrible creature. "Do you want to die today, monkey
monster?" he asked.
"Pah. Monkeys predate you humans by millions of years.
You'll be dead soon, so my name doesn't matter, but perhaps you've heard of me
in your pathetically short human life. I am En Kō, the guardian of Hakūn-do
Cave. I well understand your shallow purpose here, human. Every human who comes
here wants the same thing."
En Kō filled his cheeks with air and blew out a breath
towards one side, parting a curtain of thick fog. A large polished stone
appeared in the center of the fog, carved with countless Sanskrit characters.
Tanshi gasped and stepped toward the stone, but an instant
later, it was obscured in fog again. "The Heavenly Book—that's the
Heavenly Book!" He was overcome with joy... but then he took a moment to
think. It was awfully strange that En Kō, who lived in the isolation of
Hakūn-do Cave, knew so much about humans and the human world. It was strange to
him that En Kō knew exactly what he wanted.
"The only humans who have seen it are you and the
servant of Emperor Quin Shi Huang," En Kō said. "Feel free to take it
to the afterlife as a souvenir." He cackled again.
En Kō suddenly raised his staff and struck at Tanshi with
astounding speed and power. Tanshi leaped away, using his pewter staff for
balance. He only just managed to avoid En Kō's attack.
"Hm," En Kō said. "The servant of the Emperor
died in one blow. Tell me your name, human."
"I'm Tanshi. And I'll be taking the Heavenly Book with
me."
"Tanshi, is it?" En Kō's voice was low and coarse. "You remind me of someone... Ah, yes. It was five thousand years or so ago. There was a boy who came to a bad end and went to hell after praying before Iwakagami, the Heavenly Book."2 En Kō spoke arrogantly, as if he were lording himself over Tanshi. The wide, fearless smile on his face was hideous and terrible. "Don't feel too badly toward me, human. No one who enters the cave is ever permitted to go back."
It sounded like En Kō was guarding the cave, but he didn't
necessarily want to. Had someone else ordered him to do this? Protect the cave
and kill anyone who tried to leave?
En Kō flourished his staff overhead. The weapon transformed
instantly into an ancient Chinese longsword. The sword's style was common during
the Spring and Autumn Period (770 to 481 BCE) of China's history, which
predated even the rule of Qin Shi Huang.
Was summoning this weapon part of the Way of Shattering
Earth?
Tanshi had no time to think as En Kō pressed the attack. He
moved around Tanshi as gracefully as a dancer. Tanshi felt clumsy in comparison
as he blocked En Kō's fast attacks. He looked for an opening to go on the
offensive, but En Kō had no openings to exploit.
Tanshi's heart was beating hard, but En Kō didn't let out a
single ragged breath. The battle was a test of strength and physical endurance,
and Tanshi was losing.
En Kō paused briefly and twirled the longsword over his
head. This time, it turned into an oversized naginata—the naginata of Guan Yu,3
a great warrior who had served under Emperor Liu Bei during the Three Kingdoms period. En Kō handled the huge
weapon as if it weighed nothing at all.
Tanshi ducked under a cutting strike and heard the air
whistle over his head. He jumped back, putting more space between himself and
his opponent. En Kō was stronger than he was; he had control over the elements
and he had magic. Tanshi knew that, but he also knew that he had to win. If he
didn't win, he would die here, and his long quest would be for nothing.
Tanshi felt helpless—driven into a corner. En Kō was in no
way comparable to the scumbags and soldiers he'd fought at the
governor's estate. No matter how strongly he attacked and no matter now
skillful his movements were, before En Kō he might as well have been a child. A
child, fighting an all-powerful demon.
His strength exhausted, Tanshi could do nothing but hold
onto his weapon. En Kō set his naginata on the ground and gave the staggered
Tanshi a once-over with his unsettling gaze. Tanshi felt another wave of
murderous intent and knew that the killing blow was coming.
En Kō's breath spewed forth from his mouth as a fountain of
flame.
Tanshi rolled to avoid it, and when he stood up, he jumped
into the obscuring fog all around him. Frenzied, panicked, Tanshi ran through
the fog as fast as he could. He stumbled out of the cave and sped to the rock
bridge, clinging to his pewter staff like a lifeline.
If Tanshi hadn't sensed En Kō's murderous intentions, he
would be nothing but a charred mark on the floor of Hakūn-do Cave. Quick
reflexes and quicker thinking had spared him so far... but how long would his
luck last?
I have to run. I have no choice, Tanshi told himself
as he fled. Still, he was disappointed in himself.
En Kō appeared at the start of the rock bridge, just ahead
of Tanshi. He was supposed to kill anyone who entered Hakūn-do Cave. Tanshi
couldn't save himself from that fate by running.
"Hehehehe... Farewell now, Tanshi." He opened his
mouth and let out a whirlwind so fierce that Tanshi was caught in it as surely
as bonds around his hands and feet.
"Aaaaah!" Tanshi's feet left the ground as he
spiraled through the air and fell into the valley below.
Translator's Notes
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