Chapter 31- What Is Cultivated Is the Self

Tian decided he was fourteen. It had been a month since Martial Uncle Ku had returned, and in another month it would be Hong Liren’s birthday. To maintain orthodoxy and obeying the will of the Heavens, he could only reluctantly accept the title of Older Brother.

That the young Liren violently disagreed was more proof of her hooligan nature, entirely unsuited to being the Older Sister.

Tian stroked his nonexistent beard in precisely the same way Brother Fu stroked his very existent beard. He felt that his father would be proud of both his virtue and his rigorous logic. Now he simply had to suppress the rebellious and establish his authority with his righteous aura. Or beatings. It depended on which of those damnable history books he was forced to read. The thought made him pause a second, and he quickly pulled out The Vermillion Word Upon The Yellow Land.

“Mmm… mmm… overcome with remorse… kowtowed nine hundred and ninety nine times… incense rose across the Central Plains like wildfire… ‘To maintain orthodoxy and obeying the will of the heavens, the newly crowned emperor reluctantly, with great pain in his heart, bore the people’s suffering as his own and exterminated all his male relatives and their descendants, confining the late emperor’s harem to the Cold Palace to practice their weaving and poetry until they perished of old age.’”

He closed the book with a decisive snap. “And if it’s good enough for the Emperor of Supreme Virtue, Ancestor of Moral Clarity whatsishname, it’s probably good enough for me.”

Tian carefully noted some useful sounding phrases, tidied his robe, and left the barracks. He was off to meditate at his usual spot.

Shifts at the hospital had fallen into a regular routine. Martial Uncle Ku had shone like the sun at noon, but like the noon sun, his time passed. Auntie Wu had been right. In a war, a single achievement isn’t all that memorable even if the giant bug outside the base was a very tangible reminder.

It was a not so minor mercy for Tian. He had reminders enough of the raid.

The nightmares had gotten worse. He had started slipping into waking nightmares during the day, particularly if there were sudden loud noises, or if he felt trapped in a small space. He also was getting mad, often. Even slight disrespect or, worse, aggression, sparking a consuming fury. He hadn’t yet fully lost his temper with someone, but he could tell it was going to happen, and soon.

Not wanting to spend time facing a wall in the Depot jail, he spoke to Brother Su about it.

“Brother Su, that trick where you yell “Awaken!” and I snap out of those waking nightmares- could you teach me how to do that?”

“Unfortunately, it’s one of those things you learn to do with experience. What you are currently suffering… not everyone goes through it, but it’s common. Very common. So common, in fact, that we have a half dozen different names for it, and argue over what symptoms are, and aren’t, lumped together under a specific name.”

“That’s not particularly useful, Brother Su.”

“No, it isn’t. I can recommend a few things that can help generally, but nothing is going to cure it by themselves. Avoid alcohol and any sort of narcotic. Exercise often, though I would recommend you stop sparring for a while and focus on body conditioning. Eat more vegetables and less meat or oily food. If we were back home, I’d say spend time in the forest or in nature, but out here that’s…”

“Not really relaxing.”

“Not so much, no.” Brother Su’s ever present smile turned wry for a moment. “When I do that… it’s not really a spell or anything, just a kind of vocal trick using a little vital energy. Anyway, when I use it, what I am using it to do is focus the listener on me. It cuts through the memories and chaos and helps you find yourself. When you feel yourself slipping, remember that you are sliding into a memory. The past is gone, the future may never arrive. You only exist in the singular present moment, and in this moment, you are free. Remind yourself of that. Orient yourself in space and time. You are here. It is now.”

Tian nodded with a sigh. It all made sense, but when the fear was on him, or the rage, orienting himself on anything rational was almost impossible. Su continued.

“Talk to your brothers about this. You can find me, or Brother Wong, or especially Brother Fu if you can catch him on base. Hell, talk to that little Hong girl, or anyone on your tea circuit that you think you can trust. The more the memories are torn apart and reflected on, the weaker their power over you becomes.”

“Huh. Another victory for tea.” He smiled at Brother Su, who grinned back.

“Yep. But above all, meditate.”

“Pardon?”

“Meditate. I know you do almost constantly thanks to Advent of Spring, but… try to set aside some time for meditation as the only thing you are doing. Really visualize the art. Do it a lot. Did Senior Brother Fu tell you the parable of the river washing away the rock?”

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“Yes, Brother Su.”

“It’s a really important one. I know you don’t like metaphors, but you can imagine the painful memories like rocks, and meditation is the river wearing them down. Right now, they are huge, disruptive, throwing the whole river into chaos. But the water keeps on flowing, and the edges get ground down. Eventually the whole rock is ground down. The river remains.”

Tian nodded. That was clear enough.

Tian’s little broom closet cultivation chamber had become impossibly claustrophobic. He found that cultivating in the patio area behind the hospital was much better. There was something comforting about having other people around while feeling alone under the brilliant blue sky.

He would start his meditation kneeling in the dirt, hands palms up on his knees. Feeling the ground beneath him, the wind around him, the sun above him. Then he would draw in a deep breath, letting the energy flow into his meridians and begin the cycle. From a seed, to a sprout, then a sapling. Slowly growing from earth to the sky.

As he grew, the qi and vital energy never stopped flowing through him. His body became more perfect, more spiritual. The changes were slow and subtle, but his features were becoming sharper and more even. His teeth, all strong and healthy, minutely shifted to give him the perfect bite. His eyes sharpened, his ears became more sensitive. His skin became astonishingly soft, yet strong. Slow and subtle, but constant. He was growing.

He would end his meditation with his hands stretched into the sky, reaching towards the light. On a good day, when things went right, just at the end, he could imagine himself as the cosmic tree Brother Fu had mentioned when he gave Tian the Advent of Spring. A tree so huge, its roots plunged endlessly deep into the earth and its branches covered the sky. His brothers and sisters could live in his shade, protected from the winds and rain. Safe.

He would usually lose focus at that point. He couldn’t imagine his brothers wanting to live safe all the time. These were people who went bandit hunting to relax.