THE PATH CHAPTER 1

 Part 1: Plague on the Mountain

 Within the expanse of a maelstrom blizzard, jagged lightning cracked open the sky, and insidious thunderclouds roared above the earth. Ascending upwards to the heavens lies the marvelous terrains enveloped by rugged trails, peaks, and treacherous paths of Mount Hua. Located just outside of Huayi City, east of the Tang capital of Chang’an. Three mountain peaks surface above the clouds; two of which inhabit hundreds of civilians who fell prey to the terrors of war, famine, and homelessness, yet now reside in reclusive seclusion from the world. Deep within the mountains, there are also many disciplined individuals that have gained great spiritual transformations, some believe this is where immortals are cultivated and can be found meditating or practicing martial arts inside secluded temples. Some have claimed to have seen these practitioners flying over treetops with great speed and lightness. It is here at the summit of the third peak where the divine Scripture Palace stands. The harmonious beauty of the  Scripture Palace was praised for having landscapes that appeared like paintings, a haven for great artists to gaze upon the divine scenery throughout the year as they placed their brushes onto their silk canvases.  For the scholars, they were free to write and scribe effortlessly, as though rivers of ink flowed from their brushes. Not only did their texts hold such calligraphic beauty, but contained such profound meaning. Even the sounds of nature could become poetry to the literati: the rustling of the wind, chirping of birds, or patterning of the rain; were all nature's inspiration to an artist's mind. Many came here to seek transcendence in mind, body, and spirit. But it was also a method of liberating their adverse life in attempts to regain serenity, order, and discipline. For centuries these mountains have sustained the pinnacle of natural beauty and undisturbed peace.

That is, however, on this particular day, a dreadful darkness had manifested in the depths of Mount Hua. As the light of the afternoon sun began to disappear into the misty clouds, an era of the great mountain was coming to an end.

Darting like a rapid snake, a man clothed in black robes, patterned with gold floral designs weaved a fastidious calligraphic stroke into the air. His swift hand movements summoned a flock of vicious cranes upon a horde of bewitched figures. The unusual stampede had risen from the mountain base, and with clambering steps, they sprawled upwards to the west palace gates. Their movements were rapid and violent like a rampant ape, with ballistic stomps they moved up the stairway at great speed. But unlike apes, these figures only grew fine fur at the tops of their heads, their skulls were much rounder and their mouths did not protrude outwards like a bowl muzzle, nor did they walk on all fours, instead their posture was upright as their heals where much longer and arched. Perhaps a shadow in the distance one may mistake these figures as apes, but once they were close enough to reveal each distinct feature, it was indeed clear that they were no apes at all. Rather they were all human.

Their faces contained soulless eyes and opened mouths spewing dark tones of scarlet, and other liquids from their bodies intensifying their rotting state. Their blood-stained clothes and pulsating dark-coloured veins that ran beneath their skin removed all appearance of an ordinary person. All that remained was an empty vessel that had been consumed by an untamed ferocity; one that devoured them by undetected forces.  

At noon, the intrusion came quickly and unanticipated. And beyond the walls of the Scripture Palace, hordes of civilians consumed by this horrid aggression brought along a demolishing catastrophe upon the consecrated mountain. Like a sea of ants surrounding a lonesome wasp, a hundred disciples from the Scripture Palace were gravely outnumbered in comparison to the intruders.

The northern wind howled madly upon the peaks, resounding in the air like wailing ghosts, and beneath dark encircling clouds, the earth began to rumble again as another sea of frantic civilians approached the Scripture Palace. The man in black robes performed another quick stroke with the wave of his hand, manipulating a powerful surge of ink that pushed back the foul bodies down the long stone staircase. As they tumbled over each other, some were knocked over the mountainside along with the stone balustrade supporting the weathered stairs.

 Not far from the man was a large white bipedal tiger, who had been swiftly painting a series of gestural characters on a long serpentine scroll. He flipped his brush and chanted an incantation. At once a series of ocean waves surged forth from the scroll and when the civilians tried to lunge forward, the clap of rolling waves sent them cascading down into a tumbling descent. The movement of the white tiger’s wrist was quick and accurate. Like a printed replica of a memory, each painting came alive with meticulous details. The long white sleeves on the tiger’s robe fluttered loudly as he administered marvelous paint strokes onto his scroll, and each time he flipped his brush, it would spin rapidly in the air like the propelling blades of bamboo leaves falling in the wind; and just as he finished chanting his incarnations, he would catch the brush again in a swift motion.

 “ Shifu Ru-Jing, there seems to be no end to these mindless fiends. No matter how many torrential waves or tumbling boulders I send their way, they continue to prevail like a bunch of persistent weeds.” With another flick of the wrist, large cylindrical tree logs launched towards the manic figures. “What on earth is this madness—demonic possession, a mind-controlling plague, or have the dead come back to seek vengeance on the living?

A thin layer of snow had gathered onto Ru-Jing’s black robes.  With an astute fearlessness, he turned towards the white tiger. “I can’t confirm yet. But whatever happens, we can't allow them to enter the palace. Chen-Chen, take the disciples and flee from the east gates. Leave the mountain before it’s too late.”

 “And what about you, Shifu?”

Ru-jing furrowed his brow, “The mountain trail is steep and dangerous, much time is needed to descend safely. We are outnumbered and possibly outmatched by this madness. Our only hope is to leave the Scripture Palace quickly. However, we won’t make it far with trouble on our tail. I shall stay behind and obstruct them from getting past the west gate.”

Chen-Chen’s face sank and an urge of defiance rose in his heart. “It's too dangerous, you can’t fight them all alone!”

“ I don't need to fight them all. The mountain is here to aid me.”

Chen-Chen was puzzled initially, but he soon became aware of Ru-Jing's swift manoeuvre as he stepped forward from the stairs top subduing another wave of civilians, he finally understood his master. The intensive incline of the mountain trail was enough to push the civilians over the edges of the staircase. Each time the horde reached the top, striking just one of the civilians led to a tumbling rippling effect onto the approaching crowd.  The steep path towards the west gate was narrow and the high mist became a blinding wall over the mountain peak. But like an adder snake waiting patiently in the sand, Ru-Jing watched closely for any signs of movement from the fog. Once a shadow appeared he stepped forward and delivered a mighty blow, forcing the oncoming mass to topple down a violent descent. Chen-Chen’s face appeared to brighten as he saw the staggering technique. It was simple yet effective. He felt slightly foolish that he had manifested any doubts.

The chilling wind started to elevate and once again Ru-Jing conjured a series of figures simultaneously; weaving large birds, obscuring walls; to even abstract shapes to push the horde over the mountain. His fluttering steps were swift with nimble grace,  almost appearing like an enchanting dance. His arms pushed and pulled continuously,  bending strands of ink at his will, crafting the vision of his own imagination. 

Suddenly Chen-Chen’s eyelids were drawn up in horror when he caught sight of a particular figure among the frantic bodies. “Shifu, isn’t that...”

Ru-Jing's eyes followed the direction of Chen-Chen’s finger pointing towards the crowd, “Madam Chu.”

As the two peered over the staircase, another familiar figure crawled from the pile of approaching bodies.

““ No that can't be right. That’s Silver Gecko Fan-Ru!” Chen-Chen shouted. A sudden hit of dread consumed his mind like a heavy fog. His legs became weak as he shook his head in panic.

Ru-Jing’s complexion drained into a ghostly white when the realization surfaced that the horde were not corpses that had risen from their graves, but residents of Mount Hua. The gentle face and plump body of Madam Yu were now scarred with numerous cuts and bruises. Her eyes were colourless like logan fruits and her posture was arched in unconventional degrees.  As for Silver Gecko Fan-Ru, his pristine and reflective reptilian skin was now encased with unruly holes and lacerated gashes. His mouth dangled agape and a broken hiss came from his throat. 

It was then that Fan-Ru's body twitched and wriggled out from underneath the fallen bodies. In a flash he darted up the staircase like a spear, his scuttering feet clambered the stone surface of the narrow stairs before springing forward towards Chen-Chen.

The frightened tiger collapsed onto the ground when his knees buckled from the terror.  His round eyes stretched wide as he watched the wounded and blood-covered reptile launch towards him. Chen-Chen attempted to stand back up, but he could only manage to claw at the air, covering his face in a frightened whimper. However, the body of the shiny gecko hung close to the ground when a veil of ink quickly seized Fan-Ru’s long body, snagging him like a fish trapped in a net. The ink morphed into strands of thick ropes restraining his hissing mouth and sporadic limbs.

He collapsed with a hefty fall just before Chen-Chen, and as Fan-Ru sprawled violently on the ground his pale beady eyes pierced directly at the mortified white tiger. Once a companion of the Yao and a friendly resident of Mount Hua, had now been reduced to a lifeless body of flesh, jittering with chaotic spasm. Chen-Chen panted heavily as his mind began to wonder at the thought of all the other innocent residents who had been turned into the same mindless creature as his scaly friend.

 Fan-Ru’s body was suddenly lifted from the ground and was swung upwards into the air. Using two fingers to maneuver the spell of the Inkstrike, Ru-Jing waved his arm around his head commanding the ink-formed ropes to pull the captured lizard upwards, flinging him over the top of the stairs in one swift motion; similar to one of a cracking whip.

Ru-Jing stepped forward and extended his hand towards the frightened tiger. “ Quickly get up. It’s not safe here.” 

Chen-Chen took his hand and looked up at his master’s grim face before turning his own eyes back towards the base of the staircase. “Could this be the dreadful Heart Devil sickness? There has been news that it has spread throughout various provinces?” He asked despairingly.

Ru-Jing shook his head, “ No such sickness has appeared in the last hundred years. I’m certain it is not the case.” 

The white tiger continued to frown, “Something so hideous and devastating can only be the work of evil’s infliction. Even though these sacred lands are hidden from the world, it seems that  there is no longer protection for the residents of Mount Hua.”

Ru-Jing brows knitted tightly as his mind grew increasingly more concerned. He watched the civilians slowly rise up from the bottom of the long staircase, but a thick screen of fog passed through the mountainside, concealing their bodies into a dangerous cloud. He let out a long sigh and the tension between his eyebrows began to unknit for a moment.

 “Where there is safety, danger is without a doubt close by. No matter how sacred or tranquil this mountain may seem, there is bound to be someone daring to desecrate its purity and disturb its stillness.”

“ After I take the disciples away from the mountain, where shall we go from there?”

“ You must head to Chang'an,”

“The great capital?” 

Ru-jing nodded. "The marquis and generals of the Tang empire are familiar with who I am, they can provide aid and a place of refuge. 

Chen-Chen's eyes revealed great concern, but in the depths of his anxiousness there was a glint of suspicion."Shifu, it may be easy for the other disciples to enter the capital, but my appearance does not adhere to that of a human being. I will be refused and outcasted immediately."

Ru-Jing frowned, "You're right. I'm sorry Chen-Chen, the people of Chang'an are not used to being around members of Yao like the residents of Mount Hua are. You will have to use a transformation charm whilst you're in Chang'an."

Ru-Jing saw that the white tiger's eyes had saddened and his ears welt like flowers.

"I know you mean no harm to humans, but I can't guarantee that all humans are as friendly as the ones here. Changing your appearance will be for your safety not theirs."

“I'm not concerned about changing my appearance. What I'm worried about is what has become of the Mount Hua residents. It was only yesterday that the residents were lively and happy. Yet now it is incomprehensible to find them in such conditions. How can we be so sure that Chang’an is not plagued by this madness? I say this is definitely the work of The Heart Devil Illness.” 

Ru-Jing kept his eyes fixed on the bottom of the staircase. For a while, he detected no signs of movement behind the passing fog beneath the west district. The air had become harsh and crisp to the lungs, and the unwiped sweat on Ru-Jing’s head had petrified into frost. 

“ You've been listening to too many stories from the young disciples. Those tales are just old legends.” He said. “ I assure you that the city of Chang’an has yet been consumed by such a tragic illness. The Tang forces wouldn’t allow its empire to fall so easily.

Chen-Chen's grim expression did not subside and the fear in his heart resisted to fade “And what if the Tang empire has fallen to such terror?”

“Then destiny really has been unkind,” Ru-Jing responded dreadfully. “ You have yet to unravel the nature of the Heart’s Devil illness perhaps I should enlighten you.

“ The nature of the Heart’s Devil illness?” 

“It is not a sickness that spreads rapidly like a virus, but one that can be strewn through latent energy of unwholesome and malicious behavior. You must remember, that consequential energy is not produced by action alone, but begins at the very moment of our thoughts. If you are not careful of where your mind will lead you, the negative energy may inflict upon the words you say and it will eventually consume over the actions you perform. It is a sickness that will reveal the darkness of one’s ego. Inner demons are hidden in the depths of our minds, it is always lingering in the shadows waiting for you to slip from hope and perish into tragedies. The Heart’s Devil Illness has always been around, though it is easy to contain and control with the right course of action. What the legends tell you about the sickness from a horror that began a hundred years ago when a great evil had befallen the human realm, a terrible malice spread quickly into the human heart that caused great terror and calamity. But that evil is no more. At least for all we know.  ”

Ru-Jing walked towards the west entrance of the Scripture Palace. After pushing one of the large gates closed, he quickly returned to the stairs and peered over the edge, yet he couldn't see anything disguised by the wall of thick fog. But the sounds of scattering footsteps resurfaced to his ears and the noticeable shadows at the bottom of the staircase appeared once again.

“The darkness of one’s ego?”Chen-Chen furrowed his brow.

Ru-Jing once again nodded." Ego is an illusion of separateness. Separation of self. Myself and yourself. What is it really? Nothing more than a concept in our mind, rather than a fundamental aspect of being."

            Chen-Chen gazed back down the stairwell and asked.“  Are you saying that this does not look like people have succumbed to their inner demons?”

“I cannot deny that the appearance and behaviors of these civilians are quite frightening. However, even during the most severe stages of the Heart’s Devil illness, it does not reduce an individual to such a horrid state. There is something strange about these civilians, something...different.” Ru-Jing paused momentarily and narrowed his vision intensely at the base of the staircase, his eyes catching the slightest of movements,

“What do you mean by that?” Chen-Chen raised his head.

“Heart's Devil illness is a form of possession controlled by a malicious energy. That energy is detectable to us through our spiritual senses. A person's susceptibility is determined by their mental fortitude to suffering. Even in the most chronic stages of possession, fragments of humanity still remain within the victim. If they can uphold vigorous willpower and resistance against the darkness in their heart, purging them of demonic possession will ultimately save them from chaotic destruction to themselves.” Ru-Jing turned his head to glance at the worrisome white tiger and added,'' But what you see in front of you is something much more sinister. There is no demonic energy detectable.”

1*长安/Chang'an: Modern-day Xi'an located in Shannxi province

2*妖/ yao： Often translated as monsters or demon/devil, however, a Yao refers to a supernatural beast derived from an animal, plant, or object that has gained consciousness or spiritual awareness and mobility through spiritual cultivation over a long period of time. In comparison to Demons and Devils, a Yao is not necessarily associated with inherent evil but can express hostility to humans depending on the situational relationships. 

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