The Fourth Wall - Chapter 11 preview (Patreon)

Tou He turned as he exited, closing the simple slat door behind him. It still let in a little light, but it would aid his friend in resting. He paused, moments before closing it, regarding his friend frankly. Strange, how he looked smaller now, frailer. His normal tan had faded a little, grown paler as he spent less time outside. His aura flickered and roiled even now as he rested, calming a little but still disturbed. Portions of it felt broken, the normally impervious aura ragged at certain spots. 

It was better, a little better, than before. Yet, he and Yang Mu watched over their friend constantly, noticed the winces and the stuttered steps, the hesitation at certain points as his friend shifted positions, as he moved. Sometimes, it would be followed by an indrawn breath, a clenched fist. Other times, he would keep moving, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as expected pain failed to realise.

The cultivator knew, the longer this lasted, the deeper the mental scars would grow. For some, it would matter little. For others, it might even give them character. Tou He worried for his friend though. For two reasons – firstly, because his friend had always been so brave, so resolute in his decisions. Always the first to throw himself into danger, and Tou He he worried that courage might be blunted, destroyed by concerns of pain and loss. A little caution was a good thing, but he feared that Wu Ying would lose something intrinsic in him.

Then, of course, was the other side of the coin. That Wu Ying would take the wrong lesson from the pain, that he was healing and could heal. That he would continue to take insane risks, that he could and should face those stronger than him, again and again; trusting that he would survive and heal. 

Eventually.

When Wu Ying understood that even this injury itself was transient, then there was nothing left to stop his self-destructive behavior. At a certain point, sacrifice changed from heroic to idiotic; and that was a particularly fine line to walk. All too easy, to place heroic actions as those survivable. All too easy for him to dismiss past concerns.

Perhaps that was the dao his friend walked. Perhaps that was what he had missed and would one day accept. Tou He hoped not, for it would mean a life of tragedy, for his friend, for Yang Mu and all those who loved him. It was why they were here too. Why he was kneeling, before the statue of the buddha, asking for wisdom. Praying for it.

Legs crossed in the lotus position, prayer beads in hand, he murmured the prayers, searching for peace of mind. For clarity and wisdom. Time passed, minutes or hours, it mattered little; till Tou He found himself standing and approaching an elderly monk. There were no external signs to the casual observer of his rank or station in the monastery. Why would there be? Beyond the Abbot whose job was the administrative mastery of the temple, there were no hierachies like in a sect. The only true difference were between the layperson - the novice monks who had not taken the full vows - and the full monks. Duties were not sub-divided up, beyond the practical. Even the most senior monk threw out their own waste buckets and mucked the stalls or cooked as befitted their physical status.

The only difference, the only markings of greater or lesser degree of importance was intheir gathered wisdom. Age, of course, helped in that. Given enough time and practise, it was likely that even the most hard-headed fool might gain some degree of enlightenment after murmuring prayers, practising the martial arts and studying the koans for years on end.

But even then, that was not always clear.

After all, one might find a boddhisatva in the kitchen or a child with the wisdom of past lives. Nor was clothing or the number of prayer beads or the presence of enchanted equipment any indicator, for the monastery guardians themselves might carry storied weapons or powerful enchantments as necessary.

It was simply in the aura, in the presence that exuded from the individuals. Like a cool spring breeze or the warmth of a hearth, these monks who had gained greater enlightenment exuded this strength and power into the surroundings. Wu Ying - before his most recent fall - might have mentioned something about the winds of the heavens and hells blowing from these men. For Tou He, they were but the calming and familiar presence of his past.

"Elder, would you have time speak with me?" Tou He asked, bowing low as the older monk looked up from his prayer beads. The clack-clack-clack of the beads never stopped, the bead sliding over the top of finger moment after moment. 

"Of course, my son." Warmth and kindness emnated from the other, even as he turned his head to the side where Tou He had been sat, praying. "You are one of us? Or were?"

"I walked the path, once. I still do; in my own way."

"There are many paths, yes; though some are more perilous than others."

"Evil must be faced, no matter the cost." Tou He hesitated, then lowered his head, forced to admit by those calm eyes. "Though I left the path early on for other reasons."

"Are you seeking advice on regaining the path then? Or an upcoming battle?"

"Neither, buóhàn (4)....?"

"Just bùhuán (5) An." 

Tou He's eyes widened a little. He had been flattering the man earlier, for it was unlikely for a buohan to just be seated here. The presence of one who had gained enlightenment but not moved on was something that would have been remarked upon by his friends and others. The closest cultivator equivalent would have been to half-Immortal but stronger. A buhuan though, they were the most 'common' version, if common could be used for a group of individuals who probably only numbered in the dozens all across the kingdoms.

Then again, they were also so much stronger than cultivators. Yet, by his surname, Tou He knew this man was not the Abbot. After all, Abbot Gu was the one he had corresponded with.

"My apologies, Buhuan An. I had not the eyes to see Mount Hua." Tou He kowtowed now, lowering himself on his hands and knees such that his head touched the floor. 

"There is no need for this. I am no cultivator. We are all the same under the wheel," An said softly. "Now, what is it that you seek guidance on? Though, perhaps I can guess at least one."

"One for myself, yes, Buhuan An. I seek guidance and aid, when I stand my next test." Though the Buhuan could stand beside him during the tribulation, their special place in the tapestry allowing them to interact in that way and not be punished; it was rare that they would do so. After all, few individuals would merit such intervention and Tou He would never imagine he was one of those. "I must take that next step soon, and any advice to smooth my way would be gratefully accepted."

A slight nod, a hand coming up. He leaned forwards, placing two fingers upon Tou He's forehead, a thrill of energy and shock running through the cultivator as the fingers came into contact with his flesh. A deep part of him, a portion of his changed body woke up and snarled, a burst of impatient and fureous energy surging forward to protect Wu Ying.

It was set aside, ever so gently \,like a butterfly might be lifted off the skin. Great care, to ensure the delicate creature was not damaged; but with such casual indifference that the fire dragon's bloodline - already weakened and minor in Tou He - was cowed. It could sense the vast difference in strength, and so it waited, watching as the buhuan's energy passed through Tou He's body.

Like a warm wave lapping against his soul, like firm hands massaging aches that Tou He had not even realised he had been carrying, the energy from the Buhuan passed through him. It soothed and lightened, bringing a deep sense of peace to Tou He, allowing him to regard the man's soul as it came finally to his core. The core where his immortal soul still slept, waiting to be released and integrated into his body. 

In Tou He's mind, his dantian was a barbeceue grill, the core a clay wrapped chicken that was warmed and preserved and cooked, his moments of enlightenment spices that enterred it. It was a silly conceptualisation of his space, but the coals that were what was left of his fire; that had been brought low but still emnated heat suited him more than the roaring ocean of flames that had once been there. A part of him wondered what the Buhuan saw, what he sensed as he passed through and handled his core ever so gently in his powerful hands before putting it down.

He thought then, that the man might leave. Undestanding gained, no further action needed to be taken. Instead, the Buhuan stayed, his presence floating in Tou He's dantian. What was a comforting entry began to grow uncomfortable, for powerful and benign as the man's soul might be; Tou He's dantian was never meant to have two presences there. Discomfort began to turn to pain, and in the outer world, he grimaced.

And still, there was no movement from the other.

In desperation, Tou He threw himself down, bringing his own attention fully within. He sensed the floating presence, but now he could see what it was doing. It was not just staying still, but instead soaking the dantian with the castoffs of its own presence. Those coals, the banked flames of heavenly orders and dragon blood, they were soaking in the chi; the flickering edges of enlightenment and understanding the Buhuan gave off. More than that, in the soaking it was mixing and mingling the two concepts together better, binding them tighter.

Tou He let himself stop thinking, instead feeling. Like the imaginary coals of his flames, he took in the ephemeral cast-offs, trying to better grasp what it was the Buhuan was teaching him. 

There, first the second fetter - the attachment to rites and rituals. It was breaking down heavenly will, for what were the rules and regulations and desires of the heavens but another rite, another ritual of this world that had be released. Next, the third fetter - doubt at the teachings. Mercy and kindness and lack of ill-will to all things, that battled the fiery nature of the dragon's blood, the ill-tempered flames that burned all. And there, overlaying it all, the understanding that everyone could awaken, that his nature and the nature of the soul within him were no different, that they were but the same thing, like his immortal body.

He knew all this, of course. Had attempted to enforce that understanding himself, but it was the example of the Buhuan before him - a light in the tunnel, a lighthouse in stormy seas - that aided Tou He most of all.

Pain, growing, and threatening injury. Before it could happen, the Buhuan pulled back, leaving Tou He empty and bereft. A comforter, torn from a sleeping form. A meat stick, taken from his hands. A tragedy, in all senses.

When he came to, Tou He found himself alone but for the presence of a small child. Squatted beside him, eyes wide and curious, he was playing with one of Tou He's pouch, staring at the contents.

"It's rude, to touch other people's things." Tou He said, gently.

"The brothers tell us that all things are ephemereal, that material desire is a hindrance to advancement."

"Then why are you looking at my things?"

"Why do you care?" the boy said, smirking. He closed up the pouch and handed it back to Tou He, continuing. "Curiosity is not forbidden though, for knowledge is important."

"I see..." Tou He considered arguing with the child more, but then dismissed it. He was in a good mood after all, for he could sense the changes within him. More importantly... "And was looking at my things the only reason you are here?"

"No! I was sent to watch over you and lead you to dinner. If you woke in time."

"And did I?"

A nod, a smile. Then, the boy leaned in and whispered. "But adults aren't supposed to eat meat. So I ate all of yours." Standing swiftly, the boy scampered to the door, waiting for the incredulous cultivator to follow.

As his old Master had often said, all things came back and karma was inescapable. 

Even if it was in the form of a meat stealing child.

Footnotes:

4 - Chinese term for Arhat, or enlightened one, an individual who has gained insight into the true nature of existence.

5 -  Chinese term for Anagami or partially enlightened person, the third of four stages of awakening.