Spring of the Hidden Jade: Vol. 1

What traveler will the youth lost in the bamboo of a hidden valley meet next?

At the moment first dew wet the water-shield, when frog-song rang again, the youth had just woken.

Morning sun cast broken light through the bamboo, faintly drying last night's rain from his hemp clothes; threads of white mane, pearl-colored, clung reluctantly to his shoulders.

In a moment, when the light struck his face, the youth propped himself up languidly, half-opened his eyes—and found what had woken him was a pair of amber-gold flashing pupils.

"It's late, you lazy thing."

The tall woman of golden eyes tilted slightly; white-gold hair spilled over her shoulders. Her words held a touch of annoyance, yet laughter hid in her eyes.

The youth had come to this valley of hidden jade to train and cultivate—never expecting one night to chance upon an adeptus also wandering through these mountains.

She wore long white gauze, a rain-cape and hat of glittering pearl light; her golden pupils held a captivating glow, gentle yet cool. Her voice was elegant and still, like fine jade fallen into a clear spring.

The stories she told were distant and ancient, so absorbing that one forgot the moon's rise and fall, the stars' cycle, the first frog-cry and cicada-song of morning.

After that she led him to tour the cavern dwellings of reclusive adepti, to watch unfinished games of go; led him into clear riverbeds to visit palaces of dead gods; led him up sheer cliffs to look down on cold silent ruins left by mountain tribes…

And later, when silver night-butterflies shone with moonlight, they explored together the dreams of fish playing under the hidden spring, danced as the old serpent-worshipping shamans once did, until cicadas first fell quiet, then sank into sleep with the sighs of mountain spirits and gods.

Recalling this, watching her back, the youth sighed.

"What—you were fine a moment ago, why space out?"

Sensing her companion's curiosity, the youth who had watched her in silence laid out the doubt in his heart.

"Mortals live and die between dawn and dusk—only guests of heaven and earth—so they cling to one moment's joy, one moment's sorrow, binding themselves to some point in the past, forever seeking echoes…"

"Only—such a fine night: what aspect does it hold in an adeptus's eyes?"

"You think rather highly of yourself—I may forget you in a moment… Adepti are that heartless."

Then she laughed cunningly, eyes curving into crescents.

"But since you wish to hear, I will tell you."