Wei Zhen opened his eyes and found himself in a dimly lit room in a village a few miles to the north of White Snake village. A fire crackled and fought off the cold chill that had crept throughout his body. He heard two distorted voices speaking and could just barely make out the shape of their bodies as his eyes strained to make sense of the blurred shapes comprising the room.

“I don’t have any, I’m sorry.”

“How do you not have any? Aren’t you a doctor?”

“It’s a rare herb, and only grows on the peaks of mountains. I’ve been out of it for months.”

“Isn’t there any other way to help him?”

“It’s the only known antidote. I can slow the spread for a few days, but without it he will die.”

The two heard groaning and saw Wei Zhen struggling to push his body up. Lakhuto rushed over to hold him down.

“You can’t move. The poison will only spread faster if you do.”

“Here, give him some water.”

Lakhuto held a cup of water up to his face and helped him drink. Wei Zhen began to understand the situation as the crisp cold water breathed new life into his body. While growing up, he often climbed the local mountains and brought back rare herbs for the herbalists in the area. Before turning to crime as an easier and less seasonally dependent way to make money, it was the only thing that kept him from starving to death.

“Frost Lily. That is the herb you need, right?”

“Yes, it grows on the peak of Mount Altun. One of the nearby mountains. But only a skilled martial artist can make it to the top,” the doctor replied.

“I know, I’ve been up there a few times. I believe my friend here can do it.”

Wei Zhen had little knowledge of Lakhuto’s martial prowess but given that the man had been carrying a Taoist sword he assumed that the man was at least proficient enough to scale a mountain.

“I don’t know anything about lightness Kungfu or climbing mountains. All the mountains I’ve been around have neat paths to the top.”

His faith in the man he had just called a friend shattered.

“Lakhuto, come closer,” he said while coughing up blood into his hand.

As Lakhuto’s face came closer to his own, he grabbed his shirt and pulled him into whispering distance.

“You are a martial artist, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Then you have some measure of cultivated internal skill?”

“Some measure, yes.”

“Alright, listen to me very closely. While I don’t know how you’ve gone your entire life without learning this, I believe in your ability to learn. This mountain you’re going to is not a particularly challenging climb. You can get by with the basics. When you get ready to jump, focus your qi into your feet and then release it up into your torso when you’re in the air. It may take a few times to get a feel for it, but you’ll see the difference.”

He released Lakhuto and then collapsed back onto the bed in a series of coughs. The doctor unfurled a scroll illustrating several local herbs and pointed out the one that was needed. Thick petals, white as snow, with jade green lines running along the center.

“Doctor, I’ll be back.”

Wind howled from the south as Lakhuto made his way up the mountain. The late August air carried with it a hint of a bitterly cold winter as it beat mercilessly into his back. It had been a day since he left, and he was now only about halfway to the summit. While physically exhausting, the climb reminded him of the countless times he had run up and down the mountain paths as part of his training at Mount Kunlun. It visited upon him a brief nostalgic comfort for a simpler and happier time.

After hiking for a few hours, he reached the part of the mountain that could only be scaled by using lightness Kungfu. A series of sheer hopeless looking cliffs stood between him and the summit. He estimated that it would take nearly fifteen twenty-foot jumps to reach the top. A feat that before today he scarcely imagined to even be possible. While his Grandmaster would have been knowledgeable in the matter, the students of Mount Kunlun focused strictly on swordsmanship and the tenets of Taoism.

I can do this, he thought. Bursts of qi focused into the feet and then upwards into the chest. He imagined them to be deep wells that the energy throughout his body flowed into like great rivers of gold. After a few moments of deep breathing, he gave it his first try.

And crashed down into the ground, sending up a cloud of cold dry dirt. He felt that he had at least jumped a foot higher than usual and could feel the qi flowing through his body as it was supposed to. Perhaps the timing of it all was a bit off, or maybe he had not circulated enough qi. Whatever it was, he missed his Grandmaster and wished that he had spent enough time with him to learn everything that the man had to teach. He held the life of another man in his hands now and was not sure that he was skilled enough to save it.

As the sun began to dip past the peak of the mountain, Lakhuto still found himself fumbling and diving into the dirt. While he was jumping higher than before and some progress was being made, he worried that it would take too long, and his return would be too late. He sighed and collapsed on top of a smooth boulder, looking at the rock wall from a distance.

Perhaps he could chisel hand and footholds into the rock? he thought to himself. But no, that would take weeks if not months. He had heard outlandish tales from Zhao Lin in the past about an entire army that had invaded an enemy city by climbing a mountain near the city’s wall with legs of frozen mutton stuck to the rock. Though he had never confirmed that to be true and always thought it to be a joke made up by his dear friend. He could think of no way around the insurmountable task in front of him and dozed off while promising himself that he would rest his eyes for only a few minutes.

After a couple hours had passed and the moon began to visit upon the mountain its cold light, Lakhuto awoke from his nap. He was angry at himself for having slept while people were counting on him and set out once again to climb the unforgiving rock wall in front of him. While fumbling around in the dark, embittered by his circumstance, he kicked over a pile of rocks he had walked past a few times and noticed a hardy white flower that had been using the rocks as shelter from the whipping wind. He plucked it from the soil and held it up to the moon. It fit the description that the doctor had given him. He sighed in relief and thanked the heavens for taking pity on him.

He had been fortunate enough for the year to have been colder than usual, as the Frost Lily requires a specific temperature, found most often at an altitude where the local mountains peak, to properly grow.

In the middle of the next day Lakhuto returned to the doctor’s residence. He found Wei Zhen hanging on by a thread and thanked the doctor for having kept him alive.

“I pray that this is the correct herb, doctor.”

“It is. And you arrived just in time for an antidote to be affective. Take care of him while I make it. Make sure he has enough water and swap out the rags to keep him cool.”

Wei Zhen lay on the bed twisting and groaning as he fought off the poison. Lakhuto sat down in a chair next to the bed and took care of him as the doctor had instructed. An hour slowly passed, and the doctor came back in with the antidote. After drinking it, Wei Zhen began to gradually calm down and his fever broke early in the morning.

The next day, the two ate breakfast and prepared to leave.

“So, you made it to the top? I knew my faith in you was well placed,” Wei Zhen said while eating a bowl of rice porridge.

“I don’t want to talk about it. You’re going to need to give me better instruction on lightness kung fu,” Lakhuto replied.

“Where to next, then? I’ll teach you along the way, I owe you.”

“I was on my way to the east to visit Mount Hua Sect when I ran into you.”

Wei Zhen continued to wolf down his porridge and asked the doctor for seconds. “Great. Mount Hua it is, then. You know, I’ve heard amazing things about that place. Never imagined that I’d get farther east than White Snake in my lifetime.”

“If any sword sect is still left standing, I imagine that it would be the great Mount Hua. I have to help them if I can.” Lakhuto indulged the doctor in a second bowl of his own before continuing. “After that I plan on tracking down whoever caused the destruction of my sect.”

“Oh, you’re from Mount Kunlun? I heard about what happened there a few days ago. So are you…the only survivor?”

Lakhuto peered down into his now empty bowl, thinking about his friends who were now gone.

“There were a few elders who went to the capital on business a few months back, but we never heard from them so I can only assume now that they have been taken out as well,” he replied.

“They could still be out there. Perhaps when we get to Mount Hua we could ask around.”

Lakhuto nodded in approval.

“But first you’re going to have to get rid of that sword of yours,” he continued. “Those soldiers have been rounding up anyone who even looks like a martial artist. We won’t make it anywhere with you waltzing around with a target painted on your back.”

Lakhuto knew that he was right. Parting with his sect’s ceremonial sword was going to be hard to do, but he would not be able to help anyone from either a jail cell or the next world. He called the doctor over to make a proposal.

“Great doctor Yao, am I right in assuming that you’re a righteous and honest man?”

“You humble me with your kind words. What more can I do for you?”

“Until I’m able to return, I will leave my sect’s ceremonial sword here with you. It could be years before I make my way back here. Can I trust you to keep it safe?”

“It would be an honor to help such a virtuous young master. I’ll keep it safe as long as I’m alive.”

He parted with his sword and paid the doctor out of Wei Zhen’s pocket for his services. The two started out on the road together, eager to make their way to Mount Hua and beyond.

“Did you steal that silver I paid the doctor with?”