78 A Kinder Way

Name:Painting the Mists Author:RedMirage
A fresh breeze swept through the air, blowing leaves across the rocky ground in the middle of a mountain valley. It was fall, and while not much vegetation grew on the desolate mountain trail, there was still enough grass to feed Gong Lan's and Gong Wuling's horses as they advanced.

Gong Lan's hair had grown several inches since they'd left. Their moderate pace was only interrupted for meals and rest. It was difficult to sleep, however. The wind raged frequently in this mountain valley, and the changing seasons did little to alleviate this.

Her brother seemed unfazed by the wind. He always led the way and often used his qi to dispel intense blasts that swept against them. The mountain pass was narrow, and any slight misstep would spell certain doom.

They continued for several hours that day, only stopping once night fell. Fortunately, they found a cave in the side of the mountain where they could take shelter. A group of adventurers had left a pile of wood there. This was a common act of goodwill. Those who arrived with extra firewood would leave some, and those who were short would thankfully burn what others had left. Life as an adventurer was difficult enough without people being at odds with one another.

Soon enough, a fire was crackling. Gong Wuling always carried a special spirit weapon: a small piece of wood that absorbed fire and released it when required. This piece of wood would never burn; rather, it could be used to modify the intensity of a fire. It could even extinguish it on command.

Gong Lan sat in silence as she munched on a strip of dried meat and drank some water they had collected from a stream a few days back. She looked at her brother, who meditated in silence while recuperating his energy. He didn't eat; advancing from Qi Condensation to Foundation Establishment was a qualitative change. Those who advanced would notice their need to eat plummet, as the energy of heaven and earth they absorbed left them satiated with little need for external sustenance.

After a few hours, Gong Wuling opened his eyes and glanced at Gong Lan, who had yet to fall asleep.

"We'll arrive at our destination tomorrow morning," he whispered. "I'm confident that you'll find the help you need there."

While Gong Lan was skeptical, she noticed that he began fiddling around with a locket hanging from his neck. The locket was golden and shaped like a buddha. She had never noticed it until now.

"Where did you get that locket?" Gong Lan asked.

Her brother chuckled. "I got it here, many years ago. It's what keeps my heart calm and allows me to make good decisions. Without it, I would likely have lost myself to bloodlust. Perhaps you will get one at the peak of the mountain. Or perhaps Teacher will have something else in mind."

Gong Lan was surprised. This was the first time her brother had ever mentioned a teacher to her. In addition, she had never expected that her brother relied on external means in the form of a locket. She had always assumed that he endured through sheer willpower.

"Not everyone is strong enough to handle things by themselves," he said quietly. "Most people can't, in fact. Humans are social creatures. They rely on friends, family, teachers, and even adversaries to maintain their mental state. There is no need to feel ashamed in seeking help. I did it before, and now you will do the same."

Gong Lan thought deeply as she observed the flickering flames of their dying fire. Every person in existence relied on someone else to get to where they are. Even the most primitive savage relied on his parents and his tribe for food before becoming independent. No matter how self-sufficient he was later on, the initial help he received was what determined his life, his fate.

In a sense, those who accomplished great things received more help than anyone else. They were the children of destiny, and the gifts they received were simply advance payment for everything they would accomplish in their lifetime.

How great it would be to be one of those helpers, to enable others to accomplish great things. Not everyone desired to be a hero. Some people, like Gong Lan, just want to help.

***

The last leg of their journey proved to be the most difficult. Not only was the trail steep and unforgiving, but a thin layer of snow had fallen the night before. It might have been the first snow of the season, yet it continued to fall as they followed the trail, like a final trial set for them before they reached their destination.

Gong Lan shivered as she rode her horse, following her brother's lead. They stopped every few hundred feet in order to let their horses recover to peak condition before continuing. This continued for a few hours of travel until they reached a flat plot of land, where two buildings stood. Gong Lan hopped off her horse at her brother's insistence, and they both approached the smaller shack.

Before they had a chance to knock on the door, it opened and revealed a young boy that couldn't be older than ten years old. He smiled before holding his hands together in prayer, bowing. "This lowly one greets you, benefactors. Are you here to worship at the temple?"

Temple? Gong Lan thought.

"Yes, we're here to see the master," Gong Wuling said after bowing in return. "Is it all right if we leave these horses under your care?"

The monk walked out with a smile on his face and ignored the reins being passed to him. "There is no need for these things," the boy said gently. "These horses will follow me because they enjoy my company and know that I only want to help them and feed them. Any restraining devices are unnecessary."

As though to confirm his words, the horses trotted along and followed him into a barn, where hay and grain was laid out for them. They drank deeply from a small well in the barn, and to Gong Lan's amazement, the water in the well never seemed to diminish.

"Many thanks," Wuling said and bowed in appreciation.

"No thanks necessary," the young monk said. He then sat down beside the horses and began chanting soothing mantras.

They left the monk and the horses behind them and began climbing the largest flight of stars Gong Lan had ever seen. The steps were twenty feet wide, and they seemed to continue without end.

Just how tall is this mountain? she thought.

"The mountain isn't as tall as you think," her brother said cheerfully. "These steps are called the Stairway to Heaven. For those with little hope and faith in their hearts, they appear to stretch out to infinity. For those who believe, they seem rather short. Regardless of what you see, the number of steps has already been determined. Why don't you count them and see for yourself?"

Gong Lan was startled, but fortunately, she had already begun counting them to relieve her boredom. Thirty-three steps. How could these steps possibly work like he says? Is it all just an illusion?

She gritted her teeth as she counted and climbed. If she was on her own, she would already have turned back. Was it a defense mechanism or merely a reflection of her heart? Was it to protect this temple from her, or was it simply for her own sake that she experienced this long climb?

586, 587, 588…

She counted as she climbed, and soon she forgot where she was. It was simply a counting game, and she moved her feet to help her count. Darkness surrounded her, and still she counted, a light in the distance growing closer and closer.

877, 888, 889…

Soon, the light became blinding. However, she couldn't help but continue counting. And as she counted, the light began to envelop her. It warmed her and comforted her.

1079, 1080, 1081 .

As soon as she took the 1081st step, the light and the darkness disappeared. They were replaced by her brother, who was looking at her curiously. He was seated on a bench at the peak of the mountain.

Instead of the bleak plateau that she expected, she was greeted by a lush tropical monastery. The main temple was small and unadorned, built purely out of white stone. Several smaller buildings accompanied it, and many jungle trees grew everywhere around the plateau. Birds flew around as though unaffected by the impending winter. Gong Lan wondered if winter would even touch such a paradise.

What truly stood out, however, was a large tree that stood tall at the back of the plateau. Its gnarled branches spread out in every direction, granting shade to many creatures that gathered beneath it. Despite being far way, she noticed several monks in orange robes meditating beneath the tree. They were accompanied by lions, tigers, deer, and pigeons. All sorts of animals that could not coexist in nature lay down peacefully, as though soaking in the subtle energy that the tree emanated.

Beside the tree, there was a small lake. Just like on land, fish crowded near the edge of the lake to get closer to the tree. Many predatory creatures, like herons and crocodiles, stood by the edge of the water, but they didn't bother troubling the ample fish. What amazed Gong Lan more was when a deer got up from under the tree and wandered to the edge of the lake where the crocodiles were gathered. Instead of attacking it viciously, they simply lounged in the sun, allowing the deer to drink its fill before it left and resumed its peaceful session beneath the tree.

"The tree prohibits violence," her brother said softly. "This is an inviolable rule, one that transcends nature. All those who bask in the shadow of the bodhi tree will find their sorrows soothed and peace with themselves. Many who frequent the tree cannot bear to part with it and spend the rest of their lives here."

They continued their journey through the lush greenery. Wherever they traveled, young and old monks alike smiled and bowed to them. They all wore an orange kasaya, a simple garment consisting of a single long piece of saffron cloth. Everyone's head was shaved. To Gong Lan's surprise, she noticed a half dozen women walking by as they carried water. They too had shorn their heads, and several of them had nine burn marks adorning their hairless scalps.

Soon, they arrived at the main temple. Its white walls reflected off a still moat surrounding it. It was all ornamental, of course. The bridge leading to the temple was a permanent fixture. Several orange fish jumped across the bridge as they traveled; they knew that they were not in danger, for no one would dare to harm a living creature in this harmonious paradise.

A young acolyte greeted them at the entrance of the temple. "Teacher will meet you soon," he said knowingly.

Gong Lan was shocked at the man's foresight, but Gong Wuling was unperturbed. They followed the acolyte as he led them deeper into the temple. Soon, they arrived in a well-lit hall. There, a thin figure was seated on a cushion, chanting mantras toward a large golden statue. The golden buddha sat cross-legged with his right hand facing outward, his thumb and index finger pressed together in a circle and forming a teaching mudra .

The acolyte seated them on cushions behind the meditating man. Gong Lan felt her mind wandering as she sat down. Much of the tension that had accumulated in her body began to dissipate. Her eyelids began to droop, and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.

***

She awakened to the sight of a kindly old man, who was facing them. Like all the other monks, his expression was benevolent and full of compassion.

"I know why you've come, Wuling," the monk said gently. "Is this your little sister?"

"Yes, she's my little sister," Wuling replied. "She's… been through some hard times. Although I promised not to spread the Blood World Scripture, she needed help. But things have gotten out of hand…"

"I see that your solution to everything hasn't changed," the monk said sternly. His smile had faded. "I told you before that the path of slaughter will only hurt the user and those around them. But you didn't listen, and you've even involved your sister. Judging by the aura of sin surrounding her, I can see that she's slaughtered the equivalent of hundreds of men and thousands of beasts. Why on earth would you think this was a good idea?"

"Those were bad men!" Wuling exclaimed. "She's been slaying evildoers. Wasn't it you who told me that slaying those who deserved it was not sin, but merit?"

"That really depends on a few things," the monk replied. "It depends on the state of mind of the person accomplishing things. What is their intent? Is their intent to save, or is it their intent to punish? Are they doing it to protect others, or are they doing it for revenge? All these things factor in. The sin of killing an evil man could be greater than the merit of killing him, if done for the wrong reasons.

"You helped her increase her cultivation and combat prowess, but it did not make her stronger. The Blood World Scripture helped her confront her fears, but she has not resolved them."

"Look, she just needs a calming locket, the same kind you made for me way back then," Wuling implored.

Gong Lan had never seen her older brother ask for something so nicely in her whole life.

"What worked for you will not work for her, I'm afraid," the monk said gravely. "When you quit fighting in the arena, you did it because you were sick of bloodshed. I helped you find a way to be at peace with yourself. I understand that you've started a mercenary company. However, aren't you quite strict on the work you accept? You only protect people. You defend. This is an admirable cause.

"Your little sister, however, had a very pure soul to begin with. You took her grief, and with that, you've turned her into a vicious killer! A single step closer, and she'd become a true devil!" the monk sternly berated Wuling, who was now rather pale.

"A true devil? What do you mean by that?" Gong Lan shot back. Unknowingly, she had released a suffocating murderous intent.

Before she could react further, however, the monk had already appeared right in front of her. He smiled as he took a single finger and tapped her on the forehead. "Calm down," he said pleasantly.

Her murderous intent instantly dissipated. Now she only felt shame. Why had she reacted so violently to the man? Was there really something wrong with her?

"Let me explain, my child," the monk said softly. "Everyone is born with a pure soul, and over time, it gets corrupted by outside influences. Some souls are strong, while others are weak. Those who retain their purity as they age are very kind souls, like you once were. Here, I'll show you." The monk held out his hand, and a soft ball of light slowly materialized.

"Souls are corrupted by sin, which they build up a tolerance to over time. The sins can directly attack the unresisting soul, and a truly kind soul, who is hardly contaminated by anger, greed, envy, sloth, gluttony, pride, or lust, has no resistance to these things whatsoever. Such souls are the bane of these sins, and very effective in overcoming them.

"However, pure souls have a chance to devilize or fall into depravity if exposed to these things too suddenly. Someone who devilizes is not truly human anymore. They lose their empathy and get lost in their sins. For example, had you continued your current path, your anger at yourself and the world would have consumed you, transforming you into a killing machine with no remorse. If that happened, would you be in any position to help or protect anyone?"

The white ball of light was now tainted with red specks. They accumulated little by little, until finally, the ball of light mutated and became a heinous mass of black and red.

Gong Lan shook her head, crying. "No. I guess I couldn't." Now that she thought about it, she was a complete and utter joke.

"That's right, my child," the monk said. "You are very well suited to the path of slaughter, but that is because you're also inherently suited for the path of peace. Would you allow me to show you a kinder way? A way in which you can help your friends without losing yourself?" The monk smiled and held out his hand.

Gong Lan took it without any hesitation.