In the valley beneath the cliff, thud after thud of heavy blows kept ringing out, rattling the leaves and sending the mountain birds into flight.
There the demon ape sprang high and, cradling a massive boulder, hurled it down at Qin Mu. Qin Mu dodged aside. The ape snatched the boulder and slammed it again, but Qin Mu leaped onto the rock, sprang onto its nose, and planted a palm into its face.
The third move of the Eight Thunder Moves: the Nine Dragons Reining Wind and Thunder!
That single palm harbored nine layers of force. The first erupted from his palm's core like a furious dragon, toppling the demon ape backward. Shoulders and hips moving together, his whole muscle focused in the palm's center—the second layer exploded, cracking the loose stones beneath as the ape's skull slammed down.
Every muscle writhed like coiling flood-dragons, and the third layer burst forth, grinding those stones to fragments. His muscles leapt; the fourth exploded, driving half the head into the earth. The fifth surged, a dull tremor rolling up as the entire head sank below the surface! The sixth erupted like six dragons crashing in—but in that very instant the ape came to its senses, and a fist like a small hill swept in from the side, flinging Qin Mu away like a swatted fly!
Qin Mu tumbled to the ground. The ape heaved its head free and shook it, sending stones flying from its fur. On the other side, Qin Mu flipped up and came howling in. The ape, head throbbing, sprang onto the cliff, crouched there, and waved a hand: "Little one... no."
Qin Mu charged forward, his steps flicking across the sheer face, running straight up the cliff to strike at the ape. The ape flew into a rage, and man and ape stood atop the cliff, leaping and bounding, sending broken rocks spraying.
After a long while, the medicine's force inside Qin Mu gradually burned away, and the demon ape was too spent to move as well. Neither could stir; they lay on the cliff, panting.
After the space of one incense stick, Qin Mu sat up and regulated his qi. Joy welled in his heart—his primal qi had made no small progress, tempered stronger, able to reach every corner of his body and roam cheerfully through it. More filth had risen on his skin, from the battle, when the medicine's force strengthened his qi and refined yet more impurities from his body.
Qin Mu flicked a finger, and a burst of finger-wind split the air with a piercing whistle, like an arrow loosed! The ape's heart lurched; it sat up too, wary.
Qin Mu stretched his aching body and shook his head: "No more fighting."
The ape's relief was plain. It reached out, pulled up a tree as thick as an arm, stripped leaves into its mouth and chewed slowly, then held the tree out to Qin Mu, and said in a deep rumbling voice: "Little one... eat."
Qin Mu plucked a bright red fruit, peeled it, and ate; it slipped into his throat, moist and sweet. The ape looked on with contempt that he ate so little, and pounded its chest: "Eat! Strong!"
Qin Mu, battered black and blue, gritted through his aches, stood, and laid out the Eight Thunder Moves before the ape, then pounded his own chest: "Train! Strong!"
The ape rolled its eyes twice, went back to slowly chewing leaves, and said scornfully: "Lie... ghost."
Once rested, Qin Mu leaped from the cliff top, feet treading the sheer rock as he dashed away: "Tomorrow... fight!"
The ape blinked. When Qin Mu was far gone, it jumped up and aped his very motions. Crude as its Eight Thunder Moves were, the beast was enormously strong and produced a few rays of the moves' true spirit, a fist driving out with a sound of wind and thunder. It stared a moment, burst into wild delight, and trained on with whooshing sounds, crying: "Strong! Strong! Strong!"
Back in the village, the Herbalist came bustling up, smearing medicine on his face, asking: "Any ill effects?"
Qin Mu nodded, and the Herbalist grew more anxious. "Grandpa Herbalist's elixir truly works. My primal qi is stronger than before," said Qin Mu.
The Herbalist let out his held breath and laughed: "This pill truly works on the Supreme Body's qi. As long as it didn't kill you, my path is right. Keep this whole vat of pills; I'm off to tinker with other formulas!" He scurried off happily.
The Blind One came leaning on his bamboo staff, smiling: "Mu'er, are you tired? If so, I'll teach you a fine eye-training art."
Qin Mu coughed. "Grandpa Blind, I'm over here. That's the latrine over there."
The Blind One turned and addressed the Butcher sunning himself on the millstone: "I've thought long over this. Your Supreme Body qi has no nature, so you can't cultivate my techniques. But this eye art needs no fixed qi; it should work for you too. Come with me. This skill is the Nine-Layer Heaven Eye Art..."
Qin Mu's head throbbed; he always found the Blind One rather unreliable, but he steeled himself and followed. He was mystified—the Blind One had promised to teach him the Nine-Layer Heaven Eye Art, yet taught him nothing of tempering his eyes; instead he led him to study the four stone idols of the village.
The two sat before the idol at the village's east corner. The Blind One's eye sockets were empty, yet he stared at the idol with great attention, as if he could see something.
Qin Mu knew that every soul in the village was strange, and even the four stone idols at its corners were strange. In the Village of Broken Elders, nothing was not strange.
The four idols were not tall, yet they were enormously heavy—so heavy Qin Mu could not budge them. His strength was great, growing greater since he'd taken the Four Spirits Blood, and recently his qi had begun tempering his body, washing his marrow and forging his bones. Still, he could not shift them a hair.
As a child he had often scrambled atop them to play, but Grandma Si always chased him down, saying he must not be disrespectful to the idols. At festivals they offered them tribute and lit incense, praying the idols would keep the village and the villagers safe. These four idols were not carved in men's likeness; they merely had human forms. The one at the south corner had a bird's head, crouched on a stone pedestal, hands gripping its knees, two wings carved into its back, as if about to take flight.
The idol at the north corner was an old man with a tortoise shell, holding a horsehair whisk carved as a snowy-white serpent, its body coiling from the handle and around the tortoise-backed elder, head raised to peer afar.
The idol at the west corner was a woman wearing a crown of plumes, a tiger crouched beneath her feet. She was strange too: a single eye carved into her brow, and inside that eye a bird's nest holding three little birds.
The idol he faced now stood at the east corner—a dragon-headed oddity carrying a medicine basket, several plants growing within.
The Blind One wanted him to study it closely, but Qin Mu had laid eyes on the statues countless times and could not see what was so remarkable.
"Mu'er, can you lift this idol?" asked the Blind One, seeing his inattention.
"No." Qin Mu shook his head. The idols were too heavy—so heavy they did not feel like stone. A man-high stone weighed only a thousand-odd catties, and with his strength he could carry that easily. Yet he could not budge these four.
"Do you know why the idols are so heavy?"
Qin Mu shook his head again.
"The idols are not heavy. Not by even a hair." The Blind One's face was calm. "What is heavy is not the stone, but the thing the stone has been carved into."
Qin Mu did not understand. Wasn't the thing carved from stone also just stone?
"Consider this," said the Blind One. "When you learned drawing and calligraphy with the Deaf, your pictures and words were nonsense, worth not a copper; but the characters the Deaf writes and the pictures he paints, ten thousand taels of gold could not buy! Both are paper and ink. Why is his worth more?"
Qin Mu understood only dimly, yet it was true the Deaf's painting bore a singular extraordinary spirit.
The Blind One raised his staff to point at the idols. "Were these carved by an ordinary hand, they would weigh nothing. But the one who carved them is too great, and the things carved into them are truly dreadful, so their weight has passed beyond all common sense. To carry one of them..."
His expression grew strange. "...is the same as carrying a god!"