My given name is Su Ming born by Ta Ming and fathered by Mi Ming. Again boring names, but that is how it is. I was born early in the summer which was a bummer since there was little food at the time causing some less growth in me. If you wonder about my earlier name I will not tell since this is a new life and a new name. Besides, I really love my family. They are hicks, but with good hearts and a will to succeed in life. Our definitions of success might differ, but this does not make their dreams less than my own. I hope I can live up to the ideals in my mind.

When I was born I had two elder brothers, Lo and La, and two elder sisters Hu and Ha. The Ming family is one of the more prosperous families in the village with enough farmland in rice paddies to feed ourselves and a small surplus for trading. We also have some woodland and hunting rights in the lord's woods. We are like most families in the village, maybe a little better off than some and worse than others. One plus is that like much of the other farmers in the village we own our land and do not rent it. The village chief’s family is the riches since their land can grow barley and wheat. Just enough for some bread and all the beer we drink. The temple is the second richest power in the village, they have the right to gather herbs in the woods.

So I am born amongst peasants and seemingly doomed to hard toil and a short life. Child mortality in the village is high, scary high. Before I turned ten this year half the children I grew up with has died. I am not certain, but this seems higher than before real health procedures were invented. Not only the children died, but most of the women carrying them did too. Even with all of this, the men to women ratio stayed mostly the same, about one to one.

The village is named Rapid because it lies just below where a river runs down a cliff. This creates a large pond where the villagers can fish and use the water for the rice fields. The main crop is rice, but also some vegetables. There is also some harvesting of wood from the forest above the waterfall, but our lord owns most of it. Ever winter woodsmen are brought in to fell trees for him.

There is a single road leaving the village along the banks of the river down to the next village named Bank. The road ends at our village, but from time to time we have people passing through too the sects further into the mountains. There are valleys up there where it is said myths live. The strangers don’t bother us and we don’t bother them. They never stay or talk with us.

The first years of my life were nothing special. I walked when everyone else did and spoke when everyone else did. All in all, I acted like everyone else. I think I managed to hide very well among the farmers and villagers. For the first bombshell, I will lay on everyone is that yes, I am not from this world. Now for those who think I am a demon, angel or alien, I will have to disappoint you. I am just a lowly human like most others in this world. By some fluke or mishap on a cosmic level, I remember my previous life. No idea how or why this happened, I find nothing special about me which should make it so, but there it is. There is an alternative explanation I have come up with in later years, maybe I am crazy. If so, please don’t tell me, I love my life.

“The last one to the temple is a rotten egg” My sister Ha screams behind her at me and run in front. How she can run in such formal and heavy clothes I don’t know, but I set off after her. The first really important advent in my life happened on my tenth birthday. There is a tradition for a mans tenth birthday of having a celebration of my life, the whole family have taken me to the temple. “Ha, loser” my sister shouts as she arrives at the temple gates first, me just behind her. I smile and laugh at her while our mother scowls. “Ha, you should not be running around like that.” Ha looks perturbed at getting talked to, but then pouts at out mother and turn her back. “I won” I hear her saying to herself. I put an arm around her and don’t let go. “Now, Ha, remember your favourite story of Eaun Ha,” I tell her and reminds her of her favourite fairytale about a woman who stands up to the world and follows her Dao through many tribulations. “Remember her mission at the tea party.” She smiles back at me “I will definitely find the scoundrel who disrespected me.” She lights up and follows our family since they have passed us by. “Well do that,” I tell her while following after and thinking on the sorry end of Eaun Ha in the tale. She finds her mister right, marries and get caught up by all the “trouble” she has caused and they both die. It is not a tale of a heroin, rather she is the villain in the tale.

A child's tenth birthday is significant, it is considered that after ten years a child survives and grow up. For boys it means going to the temple and having a party afterwards, I do not know what girls do. At the Temple, we pray, offer some food to the priest and eat a hearty meal together. I am the sixth son in the Ming family, but only the third to have lived till I am ten. The villages priest is Tun Ma and he is kind of short with a potbelly and crows feet in the corners of his eyes, probably from smiling since it seems he can’t stop.

My two brothers joke and rib my father who gives as good as he gets. Even Tun who up till now I have seen as a serious priest is in a festive mood. We, the boys sit in a circle, and from time to time I look over at the girls who sit in their own circle. They look like they have a good time, but are very quiet compared to us. Tun’s wife and two daughters sit with them. Tun is pitied in the village since it seems he is only capable of fathering girls.

“Let us drink to the future of little Su,” Tun says and pours a thimble of spirit for everyone. The others take theirs and wait for me to drink. “Salut,” I say with a cheer and shot the thimble with white liquor. I try to hold it down and manage, but not without tears coming to my eyes. I cough and try to find some water to drink, “It burns” the others around me laughing at my antics. They knew to drink in sips. “Serves you right you glutton.” My second oldest brother tells me while giving me a couple of good-natured slaps on the back. “You will get it later young man,” the priest tells me while his belly flops around in silent laughter. The joy of growing up, at this moment I kind of look forward to sharing this with someone later in life. Then my brother tells another joke, and it really is a good one, so all thoughts of the future and kids fly out of my mind.

Later, when the jollies have died down somewhat, I get my shot to speak with Tun about something my father seems to have no knowledge of. I follow Tun back behind the temple where there is a place to piss. “Tun you are a knowledgeable man and I have a question,” I ask when I stand beside him. “Dear boy, ask away.” He says and slurs his word just a little bit. “In all the stories I hear tell of fantastic feats of might performed by monks and samurai. Then they say these legends live among us, but no one says anything about how these men became like they did. Do you know?” I ask him, these questions have been nagging me since I found out people were serious when they say they are among us. Some saying the strangers passing through is the same. “Yeah, they have the ability to harness the heavenly energies around and use them when fighting.” He tells me and smile. “We actually have some manuals telling one how this is done, but it is just gibberish since no one has been able to perform the same feat.” He says and smiles to me “Let me show you, maybe you will be able where everyone else has failed.”

Tun takes me further into the temple and into his personal chambers behind. There from a shelve high, desk, he takes down some old and dusty scrolls. “I keep them because the material they are written on is worth so much.” He tells me and smile. Opening one of them he shows me. And I soon see why no one has any use of them, the language is impossible to decipher. “Thank you for showing me these Tun.” The old man smiles and the crows feet show up in the corners of his eyes. “My pleasure, now let us get back to the party.”

Back at the party, Tun is back in his element. Drinking, laughing and telling stories together with the others. Some of my dad's friends have turned up to join us and it looks like he has a good time. He deserves it, I know how hard he works on the farm. I do not need to do as much yet, I am too small and weak. After having seen the manuscripts I am not up for partying, not that I was the life of the party in the start. Instead, I look at the architecture of the temple. I have seen it before, but now with a small piece of new information, I see it in a new light.

The temple is different from the rest of the village. Stout wood beams hold a tiled roof up with swirls and upturned caps. The beams are coloured a bright red and there are no woodcarvings, only stonework and ceramics. Compared to the rest of the village it looks old and traditional, maybe even a little bit arrogant since it lies a bit over the rest and looks down. The village is mostly built in large stone foundations with timber and thatched roofs. Most houses are low to the ground with a single story and a loft. Both barns and houses are like this and the only two houses different are the smithy and mill. They are just roofs with equipment inside set some distance away from the village proper. The styles clash, but still look like they fit together. I ponder this while I walk back to our house late. I am yawning on the way not looking forward to the day ahead.

The next day we are out in the fields, again. My mother is carrying my third sister while she and the girls work alongside us. The whole village is out working in the fields. Both below and above our fields other men and women are working as well. It is hard work with the sun shining down on us, but easier done together. From time to time someone begins a work chant as well.

Planting is done the moment the weather allows and now we are out weeding and fertilizing the field. Others are maintaining the canals bringing fresh water from the fields above, and small lake the river runs out off. Weeding is hard work making for a strong back if done right. Reaching down to the ground over and over again. But then, these months are the easiest, later in the year we will harvest the crop and we have to thrash it and work the rice so we can eat it. Summer is a lean time, food is scarce since we ate most over winter, so instead of crops we rely more on the fish in the paddies and river or hunting in the woods. There is also some milk from the two cows in the village and the herd of goats. A little bit of everything is what makes the world go around.

When the day is done my father takes me aside. “Sorry for last night my boy, but I drank too much to have this talk. You are a man now and need to know some stuff.” My dad begins the conversation while we walk beside each other up to the pond. I blush furiously as my dad awkwardly talk about masturbation. “Don’t it is immoral, dirty and bad for you,” he tells me and I want to cry over such simplicity in thought on something so nice. “I will show you how to shave when your beard begins growing in.” And he goes on telling me about girls, how flirtatious they are and how I must resist them. Also, if I fall I need to come to him and let him sort it out. “Probably will need to marry the girl.” Is what he offers as a solution to the problem. When we arrive up by the pond and meet the other men there for fishing I kind of sneak away from them with my own thoughts.

Rapid is, as mentioned, a small village. Thirteen families concentrated around a cherry tree and temple in the middle. The surrounding country is dominated by steep hills. There are about two hundred people in the village. Farming is done using terraces and controlling the water is a major part of our work. We work the fields for two reasons, to feed ourselves and to feed the woodsmen that work the forest in winter. Half the houses in the village are for housing the extra men during winter. Rest of the year they either stands empty or serve as storage. The lord of the land takes his tax in hosting his men, which in many ways is a good deal. We keep the houses and food to pay out tax and get some extra income when selling luxuries to the men. The men in the village also work the woods along the other men and the timber and bark are sold down the river. It is hard work and from which the most currency in the village is earned. We have little trade and even less export from the village. I have several ideas to remedy this, but I am ten years old and I need social capital to get people working on my ideas. Especially since most of them require a lot of work and or metal.

In addition to the Temple in our village, we also have a man working parttime as a smith and mill operated by hand for milling the little wheat and barley grown by the village chief. Brewing is done in each separate household with each family having their own recipes and competing on quantity and quality. Some families even brew rice wine and weak spirit by freezing the wine in the winter. We trade downriver with Banks, but other than that and the strangers passing through we are left alone most of the year. I do believe that it would be hard to find a better place to be born so long as you are born a peasant. The people are hardworking and honest with a stubborn streak a mile wide.

There is also the fact that since I have a second life, I do not want to spend it in Rapid all my life. There is a fantastical world out there with body cultivators, magic, mystic animals and that inspire awe in their nature, I wish to experience it and see it. Not be stuck here with a wife and kids all my life. “Eighteen,” I tell myself. When I am eighteen I will venture out and see the world for myself.