Jang-Guo rejoiced with a punch to the air and a yawp as the new scene greeted him. He rushed forward ahead of Qiu’yue who simply stood in complete awe. Though the cavern was still spacious and covered with ice, an innumerable mounds of treasures gathered at the center: gold piled high, jewels glittered bright, scents danced sweet, and various others enticed with its own particular charm — from potteries of blue porcelain to armor made of dragon scales.

“This can’t be real!” Jang-Guo exclaimed as he stopped short of touching the treasures. Qiu’yue stood next to Jang-Guo and her eyes shined on a beautiful hanfu [type of Chinese dress]. It featured a pure white upper garment and a long white skirt, fresh green ribbons tied around the waist, and a lovely purple overcoat.

As Qiu’yue stepped forward to get a feel of the dress, Jang-Guo stopped her with a slap.

“Brat, Qiu-di, ah, don’t be stupid now,” he remarked. “Remember how the bastard threw so many traps at us — and even rigged that last trial!”

The girl nodded in agreement. The two children weaved their way carefully through the mountains and lakes of treasures and reached the end of the cavern. This time a set of metal doors painted red with golden bumps lined the surface stood as the divider between rooms.

Carefully, the two children pressed their hands on the doors and pushed — to no avail. Qiu’yue furrowed her brows while Jang-Guo introduced the girl to a series of new expletives. Looking around the space around the doors, the children hoped to find clues as to what they must do to succeed in this obvious trial.

Without any other option, the two decided to pick up one of the many treasures. The two returned to the beautiful hanfu at the beginning of the labyrinth of temptations and Qiu’yue was given the honor to pick it up.

Qiu’yue felt the fabric to be very smooth and it felt like she was holding a gentle river in her hands.

Thus, it greatly alarmed her when the sleeves of the hanfu shot forward and wrapped around her like a viper, covering her eyes. The girl screamed horribly as the fabric dug into her left arm which had not healed fully.

When Jang-Guo leapt forward to help the girl, the ribbons shot forward as well and coiled themselves around Jang-Guo’s throat and gagged his mouth while restraining the boy’s limbs.

The two were pulled together and the clothing engulfed the two and buried them into darkness. Deprived of air, the two succumbed to the darkness. As their consciousness died, a new light bloomed in their vision. The two consciousness were transported to an illusionary scene.

The two stood side by side ethereal as a story unfolded before them. Floating above the scene oddly devoid of colors, the two spectrals watched the joy of a thin and bearded man as he threw a young girl into the air. This young girl was dressed in the purple hanfu. A handsome woman seated herself slightly away and smiled. The sun beat down mildly on the family as the flowers swayed with the gentle wind.

As suddenly as the laughter struck the two spectators, the scenes jolted when the mother called for the father and daughter to come eat. Qiu’yue gasped and cried in surprise and sadness; Jang-Guo grimaced and turned his eyes away.

A blade jutted out from the mother’s mouth. It was comical in a way, this odd metal shaft protruding from a woman’s throat — however, the wheezy cries and the crumpled body as the blade left the woman’s body dyed the scene anything but comical.

The girl in the purple hanfu lied a fair distance from her mother. Her head was nowhere to be found. The beautiful purple hanfu soaked in a thick pool of blood.

The man, presumably Sun Devouring Moon, entered the scene and collapsed onto his knees. He too had seen better days: battered from the head down, an arm hung limp, and a gaping wound at his ribs. Sniveling, the man crawled to his daughter as rivers of blood ran down his cheeks. He cradled the headless torso as he gazed regretfully at his wife.

The scene ended and the children’s consciousness was thrusted back into their own bodies from the illusion. The beautiful purple hanfu was now splotched with red, as if the colors was inherent to the design like stars or flowers.

Qiu’yue dropped the hanfu as she collapsed onto her knees and cried. The dress withered into dust. Jang-Guo similarly blinked tears away as his eyes turned a bitter red.

No one knows which pain is greatest: that of the loveless orphans, or that of the parent who is bursting from the heart with love for someone who has no ability to receive the love?

Jang-Guo patted the girl’s shoulders and told her to get up, “We are cultivators first; children second.”

“S-should we pick up something else?” Qiu’yue asked as she stood up. Jang-Guo shook his head.

“It’s, it’s too dangerous. And it feels too intrusive,” Jang-Guo concluded. Rubbing his bald head, the boy suggested to go back to the doors and see if anything changed.

New characters lined the space beside the set of doors. Jang-Guo read them aloud for Qiu’yue’s sake.

“Orphans, perhaps it was sentimentality, or simple stupid luck. Regardless, you chose correctly. If you had chosen any other treasure in this cavern, you would not have come out of the illusion with your soul intact. Choose a sword, and you would have been sliced apart; choose the golden coins and I shall have stuffed your intestines with molten light; choose the armor and you shall have been buried alive in a coffin.

Since you have progressed to at least this extent, I have warmed up to you — though these words are but recordings. I will give you another hint: the Way is a cycle, unbroken and forever. That is also fate.

Now, do not think this is the end of the second trial. From the pile of treasures, I wish you bring me that which is most useful. Remember the Way, orphans.”

Jang-Guo sighed. “Qiu-di, I know this is the founder of our sect, but I really want to kick him in his balls.”

Qiu’yue nodded. “I liked that dress.”

Jang-Guo looked at her with a strange stare. “Aiyah, maybe you are a spoiled brat.”

Qiu’yue blushed. “It’s not like that! I just, it reminded me of Mama. It felt really warm, right, Tang-ge?”

Jang-Guo gave a slight nod. He touched his throat. The red marks did not fade yet, and though it stung, it felt warm.

The two searched the labyrinth of treasures some more. Jang-Guo excluded the obvious from the candidates: swords, armors, gold, and jewels. That still left numerous artifacts left. Sentimental portrait paintings laid unfurled off to the side of mountains of jewelry chests. Unused clothing and cloth folded into neat towers of squares stood guard amongst rivers of statues and pots. And there were countless numbers of books as well. Libraries about medicine, history, martial arts, and even cooking.

These things all possessed a use of some sort. They existed, so surely they must have a place in the world.

Jang-Guo muttered to himself, “It’s too unclear. Who is it supposed to be useful to? And how?”

Qiu’yue nodded. “I would want a fan when it’s summer, but I would hate to only have a fan when it’s winter.”

“Let’s agree that Sun Devouring Moon senior is a cultivator first before he is anything else.” Qiu’yue nodded at Jang-Guo’s words. “Now, does that mean the weapons and armors and martial arts are the closest?”

Qiu’yue thought for a moment before shaking her cute little head. “Mm, I don’t think so. Weapons can break, and it probably wouldn’t be too good to depend so much on weapons. I think the same thing for armor. I don’t know about the books about martial arts.”

“Brat, you are smart at times.” Jang-Guo rubbed his bald head. “I don’t think it’s the martial arts books. There is pride in one’s martial arts and the family it belongs to, but the martial art one develops himself or is taught is more valuable than one found in books. And there’s also arrogance in one’s martial arts, so the books on the martial arts probably aren’t useful.”

“Wah, Tang-ge, you’re actually really, really smart,” Qiu’yue exclaimed with wide eyes.

Jang-Guo pulled her cheeks. “Oi! Of course I’m smart!”

“Mm, it’s just that Big Sister Meili always tell me how stupid you are,” Qiu’yue giggled through the cheek-pulling.

Jang-Guo snorted. “Hmph!”

The two returned to searching for the useful item amongst the sea of valuables. At the very thick of the forest of tantalizing prospects, the two found an old bowl. The bowl was lined with cracks and showed signs of repair, very obvious repairs which made no attempt at hiding the flaws. The bowl itself was a simple brown clay bowl often used to hold beans, beads, rice, or wine, and unconventionally hold anything imaginable.

It stood out amongst the glittering, entrapping treasures despite being very plain. Rather, it stood out because it was plain. It was like finding a simple farmer amongst a crowd of royalty and cultivators.

The boy picked the bowl up. Nothing happened. Qiu’yue bit her lower lips. Despite the doubts gnawing at their hearts, the two felt a certain promise held in the bowl. The two brought it back to the set of red metal doors and placed it in front of the doors.

Nothing happened.

Coughing, Jang-Guo stepped forward and proclaimed with his voice cracking, “I present the most useful valuable in this room!”

The doors creaked open as the bowl shattered into a billion pieces. Jang-Guo hopped back at the sudden explosion. The shattered pieces assembled into characters, reading:

“Well, orphans, you are wise beyond your years. Most would have brought armor or swords. Perhaps medicine or clothes. That is not the Way.

Remember what I speak of prior. Remember the foundation of the Way. Of everything and nothing. That is the foundations.

A bowl may hold nothing if viewed simply. However, in that nothing exists infinite potential waiting to be occupied by genius! A bowl may be filled with dirt and be home to life. A bowl may be filled with water and save one’s life. A bowl of wine may remind one of good times and allow conflicts to be buried. And a shattered bowl can easily be pieced back together with time — nothingness and absoluteness.

Now, I congratulate you on the second trial. Though you did not have to exercise your qi in this trial, I suggest you rest regardless. The next trials will push your qi to the extent — and I will not mourn your passings, for I do not know you.”

Jang-Guo gathered the shattered pieces as best as he could and placed them in one of his pockets. “I don’t want to be caught off-guard like we were with the first trial.”

The older boy decided to rest for a full day after examining Qiu’yue’s arm. The upper portions returned with such purity and softness that tofu would be jealous. The bottom portions remained inflamed and raw and butchered. It should be healed after a night’s rest considering Qiu’yue’s circumstances.

As the two rested, both minds drifted toward their lives before becoming cultivators: of art and music, of gold and flowers.