The children woke at time, as was ritual. Both Qiu’yue and Jang-Guo took a while — rubbing their eyes and stretching with a yawn — before reacclimating to their circumstances. The two had grown used to the chill which surrounded them and the wounds on the girl’s body had healed also.

The two, in a good mood, commenced the task of opening the peach-wood doors once more. Some half incense worth of time later, the two collapsed against the doors in sheer frustration.

Breathing heavily from exertion, Qiu’yue mentioned her suspicions from the night before. Jang-Guo slapped her head and scolded her for not mentioning it sooner. The two walked quickly down the halls to the other room.

Jang-Guo cried a little when he saw the bodies, both human and fox, strewn about. Softly and pitifully mourning to himself, “Perfection! Most sweet, most loving, and most beautiful and elegant.”

Qiu’yue felt a sense of accomplishment at having slain most the foxes — vindicated in her disdain of the foxes. “Stop your cooing, Jang-Guo, Big Sister Meili would be —”

“Sad, yes, you’re right, brat. I must be a man. I am her big brother. I have to act strong.” He exclaimed to himself and marched to the gigantic fox laid in the center of the cavern. The glow of the light amongst the cavern ice ricocheted off his bald head, a surreal halo above him as if Enlightened.

Giggling to herself some, Qiu’yue said softly, “Big Sister would be murderous and kill you.” Then she caught up to the older boy.

The girl fell back when she reached the mass of corpses. She felt her stomach lurch and she threw up.

In the proximity of death, one never has the chance to consider that before him: only of one’s own self. The corpses gathered near the gigantic fox corpse as if seeking saving warmth startled the girl.

The foxes she did not mind. Often, in her family mansion, there were feasts of venison, foxes, and pheasants. However, the mutilated carcasses of the foxes’ human form strained the young girl’s emotions. She glanced at her own hands; they were bloody hands—whether of those blood or her own, she did not know, and that frightened her.

“Oi! Brat,” Jang-Guo called and walked over with worry. He crouched near her. The boy followed her sight and then he sighed. He slapped the girl. Qiu’yue stared through him with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth. Jang-Guo grabbed her face and squeezed. “Brat, they weren’t human. Besides, cultivators should never show mercy — mercy is useless no matter what Confucius or Buddha says. And regret is even worse, so stop it.”

The boy threw her face away from his.

“They looked human. They looked perfectly like humans — and they were alive. Brother Jang-Guo, how can you be so carefree about killing? We’re both just children,” Qiu’yue whispered. Her eyes were still locked on to the glazed open fish-eyes of the dead.

“You’re just a child. I’m a cultivator.” Jang-Guo said angrily. “Now get up; I want to at least get some treasure before the month is up.”

Swallowing her doubts, the young girl stood up and walked back to the center of the cavern. The girl placed her hands on her heart. So fragile; one step and their skulls would be crushed — and then a whole river of unpleasantry would follow.

Averting her eyes from the human carcasses, the girl helped the boy search the white fox. After searching for the length of time it took to make tea, the two found nothing.

Jang-Guo looked at the fox and without warning punched his fist into the ribs of the mighty beast like a spade. Piercing through muscle and skin, the boy carved open a slit and then pulled it open into a gaping hole. Innards spilled out like rice from a burlap sack. Though the scent was greasy and rather sour, nonetheless, the children’s stomachs growled.

“If only there was fire,” Jang-Guo grumbled miserably. He proceeded to dig his head into the opening. He called for Qiu’yue, “Oi, brat, Qiu’yue, hold it open! I can barely see.”

The girl did as she was told. Her brows furrowed when she was able to do this task easily but found herself irritated by the human corpses. Though, as the boy continued to search through the insides of the majestic white fox — burrowing his whole body into the abyss — the girl grew slightly more used to the human eyes which stared back without life.

The boy came out of the carcass. The moment he did, the white fox faded into dust along with the other nine-tail foxes. The children watched silently before walking back to the other room; the black doors disappeared behind them.

Jang-Guo held in his palm a glowing orb the size of a date lit a dying green.

“It’s cold,” Jang-Guo whispered. He cradled the orb in both hands. “This must be the nine-tails fox’s po [The primal part of the soul; part of Chinese afterlife concepts].”

Qiu’yue inched her hand forward before rushing it back. The yin qi of the po overwhelmed the stability of Qiu’yue’s own soul. “Jang-Guo, how can you hold such an evil thing? It’s too cold.”

“Hmph! Must be because I’m overflowing with yang vitality,” Jang-Guo replied. It was a shaky and hesitant reply. Then he said, “Maybe this will open the doors.”

He hurried over to the peach doors and illuminated it with the green light. The light floated upwards and as the light passed over the coral doors, black characters became burnt into the wooden doors, reading:

“The duality of souls;

Hun and Po, [Hun, the intelligent part of the soul]

Heaven-Bound Star and Earth-Sank Regret.

Which gives forth desire?

Serenity of the still pond, fishing?

Passion of the summer beat wind?

That which beat upon the aged heirloom drum,

Skin wrapped tightly,

Made from Qilin flesh.

Strike with blood and tears,

Mother’s and Father’s Legacy,

I cry out under the night stars:

Winter snow!

Summer rain!

Spring flowers!”

Jang-Guo read the lines to Qiu’yue. Though his voice remained that of a boy, the words thundered out majestic and bold. The children conjured no ideas pertaining to the meaning of the poem. As such, Jang-Guo relented to the incessant nagging of Qiu’yue to teach the characters on the doors to her.

While doing so, the bald-headed boy reached Enlightenment! He stared at the dying green light, that wistful illusion which casted his shining bulb into a pitiful crown, and leapt up and down in joy.

“Brat! Brat! I found it! I found it!” Jang-Guo shouted in absolute joy. He calmed down quickly and spoke hurried on his thoughts.

In Taoist philosophy, the concept of duality was core: yin-and-yang, harmony in two conflicting forces. Throughout the poem, the concept of duality had been referenced in nearly every stanza — except for the last. Why? The seasons ordered out of sequence as well. It all signalled for the overturning of earth and heaven! And of what natural course of life does the poem wish to overturn? With its reference to the Heavens and stars, of parental legacy, and souls!

“Brat, the bastard who wrote that poem wants to bring the dead back to life!” Jang-Guo exclaimed with fevered spit flying about. “My old man once told me this story about bringing the dead to life. You have to prepare a body and gather up the two pieces of the soul! We already have one, the po from the white nine-tails fox; we just need to find the other parts and — Shit!”

Inexplicably, the boy began to curse heavily and kick the peach doors. Qiu’yue who had been listening enamored, fell back out of fear. After banging his foot badly on the resolute coral doors, Jang-Guo limped his way back to Qiu’yue and collapsed onto his butt.

“Brat, Qiu’yue,” he said quietly, “just sit. There’s no more hope.”

The girl gasped and asked the reason.

He glared at the girl. “Stupid brat! Don’t you see? The guardians we fought were the pieces to the puzzle! The jiangshi was the flesh and hair; the animated armor would have been the hun; the bone-eaters would have provided the skeleton; the skin-takers the skin; the hungry ghosts desire and blood; and the notebook hidden on Ox-Head and Horse-Face would have relinquished the life essence of the dead from the underworld! But we only have the stupid po, useless.”

“Isn’t there anything else we can do?” Qiu’yue asked.

“Have you not been listening to anything I said, you stupid, spoiled brat!” Jang-Guo screamed.

“There’s nothing we can do. The Tomb rigged us from the start. We’ll just have to wait for the month to be up. And it’s only the fucking second day!”

The girl also sat down. She hugged her knees close to her. Jang-Guo fumed and found himself unable to meditate. He threw the glowing orb against the wall far away, retrieved it, and threw it again — he repeated that deep into the presumed night.

“What if, what if I become the body?” Qiu’yue suggested. She quickly stole a look at Jang-Guo before darting her eyes back onto the sickly green glow.

The boy narrowed his eyes and scowled. “Brat, I may not like you. I can say I hate you with passion. But I hate seeing Meili cry real tears the most. I don’t care how miraculous that stupid body of yours is. We are not risking your life for a chance — and from the monsters we’ve fought, I would say it isn’t even a big chance — of glory and treasure.”

Qiu’yue bit her lips and got up to her feet. She walked close to the older boy and stared down at him with fists on her hips. “Big Brother Jang-Guo, I want to prove that I am not like him. I don't want you to get nothing just because of me!”

“You’ve proved it already by even suggesting that crazy idea.” Jang-Guo retorted. “Now just go meditate. The atmosphere here is pretty good. Maybe you’ll get lucky and advance another stage by cultivating for a month without rest.”

“Then I want to prove that I am a cultivator. Big Brother Jang-Guo, I want you to accept me,” Qiu’yue replied the moment Jang-Guo closed his mouth. “Please cut me and use my flesh.”

Jang-Guo squeezed his palm, as if strangling some invisible demon, and he cried, “What the hell is wrong with you? How many times do I have to say no, you damn brat!”

Qiu’yue stuck her lips out and kneeled. Then she placed her forehead onto the ground.

“Aiyah,” Jang-Guo moaned. “I almost wish you stayed a spoiled little girl! No means no.”

The boy ended it at that and, in his desire to escape the uncomfortable scene, entered a deep cultivation. Qiu’yue remained in her kowtow.

The third day passed. Then the fourth. On the fifth day, Jang-Guo finally relented.

As he sliced the skin off the girl’s shoulder with his nail, Qiu’yue noticed his eyes were not as cold or distant, though still a bit dreary.

Blood flowed easily from the cuts which the po lapped up like much needed rain. The more blood the orb absorbed, the stronger the green light glowed, more substantive.

Qiu’yue endured the pain — the sharp slices and throbbing of her bones and the raw burning as sweat ran into her open flesh — tearing deep marks into the torn away fabric from her sleeve. The girl refused to faint. If she faint, she would give more work to Jang-Guo. If she faint, she would be less than the fellow cultivator in front of her. If she faint, she would never make a friend other than Meili and Senior Sha.

She promised herself to not faint. Even when Jang-Guo accidentally drove his finger into the reddened flesh of her bicep she kept her vigilance. Even when she began to feel dazed and hallucinatory, she counted to maintain her mind. Even when she wanted to flinch from how fragile her arteries and meridians were in open display, she stopped herself.

The blood lost that day would have killed her. It should have killed her. But it didn’t. Jang-Guo channeled his own qi and vitality through her to lessen the effects; the lotus body granted to the girl also meant the healing process was in constant effect. By the time Jang-Guo had peeled off the skin wrapped around the left arm, the upper portions of the arm showed signs of healing. And it was only by the manipulation of qi by Jang-Guo that the arm did not fall apart completely at all.

The boy told the girl to rest. As the girl rested, Jang-Guo layered the flap of skin over the glowing orb with one hand. The boy took a sharp intake of breath due to surprise and wonder as the skin crumpled and crinkled around the po and formed the outline of a human body. Though due to the lack of flesh or bones, the outline appeared like ginger.

The boy allowed himself a relieved smile. He turned to Qiu’yue and opened his mouth. The girl had fainted, but kept herself upright and dignified. The boy nodded at her.

“You did good,” he said and channeled qi through her to assist in the regeneration process.

Come the following day, Qiu’yue’s arm was not completely heal or even halfway healed. The good news discovered by Jang-Guo brought her great relief.

“We do not have to carve up your entire body. The po accepted just the skin of your arm as basis for its body,” Jang-Guo told her. Then he frowned. “But I am unsure how much flesh I should carve out. And then there’s the amount of bone.” He paused and looked at Qiu’yue with a cold glint. “Brat, if I were to ask to cut up your entire arm to sacrifice as bone and flesh, would you let me?”

The girl went through several honest phases: shock, doubt, hesitation, and finally resolution. She nodded.

The boy nodded too. He grunted. “Brat, I honestly rather you acted spoil more than anything else.”

Without saying another word, the boy tore out the nails from his left hand. All five in quick succession: pluck! pluck! pluck! He howled in pain. Quickly, he placed his left hand on Qiu’yue’s right shoulder again and channeled qi through her.

“B-Brother Jang-Guo,” Qiu’yue said hushed. Her eyes wide like tea cups flickered about in surprise and confusion.

The boy threw the five bloodied nails onto the fledgling human body. The nails sank through the skin as if like seeds, or devoured hungrily by famine, and the body gained a skeleton. One nail became the skull, spines, and ribs. The other four nails became the four limbs.

Jang-Guo laughed. “I, Tong Jang-Guo, had laid out only a few rules for myself. Take care of my sister, take of myself, and take care of my friends! I follow only those three rules. Those who I deem enemies will not be given mercy; those I value as friends must not suffer alone!”

As he said those last words, his eyes sharpened tremendously as if polished by a river.

The boy looked at Qiu’yue and proclaimed, “From today forth, brat, you will be my Little Brother! Qiu-di! [Di means little brother; kinda the style to just attach di to a name to be intimate.]”

That declaration made Qiu’yue confused at first. She thought she heard wrong due to the state of her body inducing auditory dysfunction in her. “Little Sister, right?”

Jang-Guo shook his head and scowled. “Brat, don’t get spoiled. I only have one little sister, and that’s my cute Meili! You are my Little Brother, Qiu-di.”

Qiu’yue did not know whether to laugh or cry. So, the girl simply smiled pitifully while she cried on the inside. Nonetheless, the girl felt happy.

“Big Brother Jang-Guo, I never had a big brother before. I’m very happy. Papa and Mama were always too busy.” Qiu’yue said with bright eyes.

Jang-Guo rolled his eyes and grunted. “Stop with that Big Brother crap. Only Meili can call me ge-ge. You, Little Brother, call me Tong-ge!”

Qiu’yue nodded gratefully and happily, calling him Tong-ge.

After a good rest, Qiu’yue’s arm had healed a quarter of the way. The two returned to the issue of the matter of flesh. The two came to no pleasing solution and moved on to the matter of hair.

Jang-Guo chopped Qiu’yue’s beautiful black hair. It no longer reached the end of her butt, but rather rested at the small of her back now. The boy threw the hair onto the fledgling body and the body gained hair which reached the bottom of its feet. A long strand of hair also linked Qiu’yue’s right index finger to the fledgling body’s head. [In reference to Chinese voodoo dolls.]

“Now we only have three problems left. The flesh, the hun, and the life essence.” Jang-Guo frowned. He yawned and covered up his mouth with his left hand. He winced. The boy thought he had gotten used to the biting cold always assaulting his naked fingertips, worn bloody and raw.

However, the fresh sensation of warmth blasted a billion sorrows across his miserable fingers.

“What if —”

“Qiu-di, brat, no. I know what you are going to say, and no.” Jang-Guo immediately denied her with a light slap to the forehead. The two returned to thinking. Then, Jang-Guo blushed and coughed. “I think I may have found a solution to the, uh, life essence problem. Qiu-di, I need you to close your eyes. And no matter what,” Jang-Guo stared daggers at her, “do not open your eyes. Just concentrate on regenerating your arm. Do you understand, brat?”

Qiu’yue nodded, a bit surprised, but not really. Jang-Guo was weird like that. The girl closed her eyes. She heard some furious noises and after a few moments, the boy announced that he was done.

The girl opened her eyes. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. The fledgling miniature human looked more alive. The thing gained a face and a sense of vitality was felt coming from it. Qiu’yue looked at Jang-Guo who accomplished such a feat. He was frantically trying to wipe his right hand on his trousers.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jang-Guo replied to Qiu’yue’s stares with a glare.

The two then worried more about the remaining two issues: the hun and the flesh. Deciding there was no other choice, Jang-Guo carved bits and chunks from the girl’s still visible flesh, mainly from her palm. The girl grimaced and howled through clenched teeth throughout the process.

Jang-Guo fed the flesh to the fledgling human. The boy cursed in his heart at the thing’s greed. He felt as if he would see bone appear before the thing would become satisfied. Fortunately, that was not the case. Gaining flesh, the fledgling human looked almost real, as if she was simply a human shrunken small by vengeful powers.

Deciding there was no more need for flesh or skin or blood, Jang-Guo tore the sleeve from his own robes and wrapped it around the girl’s exposed arm. It was to prevent the arm from irritation or infection. Kept wrapped up, Jang-Guo hoped the arm would heal faster.

Having made so much progress, the two soldiered on. At last, the two concluded that qi may be substituted for qi. As the hair was linked to — and much of the body belonged to — Qiu’yue, the two concluded only her qi would be viable. Though weakened, the sweating girl sent qi through the hair into the miniature human.

“Shit, why isn’t it working,” Jang-Guo mumbled as he wiped sweat from the girl’s eyes.

The instant he said that, the human moved. In joy, he turned to Qiu’yue and found her eyes to be wide opened, though strange symbols had taken place of her pupils.

He returned his attention to the miniature human female. She moved — stumbled and tripped — across the ice like a doe before stopping in front of the peach doors. Green light flashed forth from her eyes as she placed her hand on the doors.

The black characters burnt into the wood faded as new ones replaced them. The doll’s job done, it collapsed into dust.

Similarly, Qiu’yue exhausted also collapsed inward onto herself. Jang-Guo, with not much else to do, entered a light state of meditation.

On the seventh day, Jang-Guo helped Qiu’yue to her feet. The boy offered the girl a shoulder to use as support. Qiu’yue declined, as the boy was taller than her and would not make a good walking cane.

The two went over to the peach doors. Qiu’yue giggled at the ash remains. Blood and tears, and the fledgling human died a short unfulfilled life.

Jang-Guo read the new message on the peach doors:

“Greetings, intruders, tomb raiders, and most obviously orphans. If you know anything at all, then you will know my name: Sun Devouring Moon.

Since you figured out the puzzle, this first trial if you will, you no doubt have uncovered my desire to overturn life and death. Let me tell you something, orphans, there is no overturning of life and death.

For no one can change fate. I, a great deity — this great founder and unifier — cannot even bring my daughter back to life.

Yet, if I ever near death, some miraculous elixir, some alignment of the stars, or some hidden strength unbeknownst to even myself shall manifest and save me. It has saved me on my journey to supreme power, and continues to save me against my adversaries and traitors; yet, I find myself increasingly in want of rest, but no longer could.

Since you passed this trial, there are but six more. Remember my words, for if you desire my legacy — you who possess of strength, wisdom, and luck — you must remember my words. Now open these doors, and claim your destiny!”

Feeling a great fire in their hearts, the two children cracked open the stubborn peach doors and stepped through, a great sense of excitement and wonder beating against their chest loud as festival drums.

Author's Note: Well, this chapter had a lot going on. Bonding moments like real men, some crude humor, and Qiu'yue displaying that growth as a cultivator. Though, maybe it felt a bit abrupt, but after living a month in such conditions, people have to change or simply die. The other trials probably won't be a chapter each...depends on which idea I like best while writing. Some deserve a chapter each; other deserve half or maybe even a third of a chapter. Also, can you feel the inkling of both an actual arc's end nearing and starting? There's also some hint at sect civil war (rebellion?) nearing with that last part too.

As always, thanks for reading.