The baited hook plopped into the deep pool and slowly sank out of sight. Tui needed to improve his fishing skills before considering escape from the island.

He sat facing the sea overlooking the rocky fishing hole, shifting slightly to find a more comfortable position. It was the end of a long day, and this was a relaxing way to finish. He sighed contentedly.

From the corner of his eye, he watched Moxie attempt a stealthy approach at the folded leaf holding the bait.

The piglet had been delighted to see him take an interest in finding grubs and had followed him closely, cleaning up any he overlooked. But the little beast could not understand why Tui would just throw them one by one into the water instead of eating the delicious things. He was determined to prevent the sinful waste from continuing.

Tui gave Moxie a straight look to let him know the sneaky approach had failed. The pig traded stealth for speed, bolting at the packet with his mouth open wide.

With a sigh, Tui lifted it high, foiling the attack.

He felt a vibration on the line, then a sharp tug. Moxie noticed his distraction and leaped at the bait packet. The pig snagged a corner of it in his mouth and ripped it open, spilling the grubs to the ground. With a happy snort, he scoffed them down before Tui could push him away. In the confusion, he neglected to set the hook, which came back picked clean.

Only two grubs escaped the piglet’s voracious attack, still hidden in a corner of the packet. With a heavy sigh, Tui rebaited his hook. He was not looking forward to a dinner of plain boiled taro.

He waited on the next bite for several uneventful minutes, then pulled the line back in to find the bait missing. These handmade gorge hooks seemed better at feeding the fish than catching them. The last grub for the night went onto the hook and out for a swim.

Again Tui waited, fishing was a task for patient people. He hoped patience was something that got easier with time.

A little jiggle came across the line, then a sharp yank. He gave a little tug to set the hook, then carefully hauled it in, feeling the line swerve and twitch as the fish fought against him. One last pull had a herring flopping on the rocks, struggling to get back to the sea.

Entranced by the dancing fish, Moxie bounced toward it. Tui snatched the slippery dinner and held it out of reach while winding up the fishing line. He swiftly gutted the herring and then headed back for the day.

Back at the hut, he lifted the iron pot out of the fireplace. It had been filled with seawater that morning and left to simmer. A crust had formed over the concentrated brine, which he carefully scooped off and stored in the salt packet, which had been growing steadily over the last few days.

For dinner, he ate a hearty taro and fish stew. The food tasted so much better when cooked with salt that was hardly any left for Moxie.

After dinner, he contacted his uncle.

[Tui my boy! How’s the boat coming along?]

His aura was happy and warm.

[Hey there, Uncle! The hull and the deck are done and half the sail, but I haven't even started on the outrigger. There's a long way to go still]

Despite his words, Tui’s pride in his progress swelled between them, and his uncle laughed.

[Look at you go, Mister Islander! Building your own boat from scratch is a big job. Those sails take forever!]

Indeed, they did. Tui worked late every night weaving long pandanus leaves by the light of his fire.

[I’ve been building up supplies for the trip, but I’m not sure yet which way to go. I only have a rough idea of where this island is.]

A tinge of worry colored Uncle Ari’s aura.

[This is the worst part, Tui. I’d like you to come home, but I don’t think it will be safe for you here. The Imperials have a strong presence here, and if they found out about your cultivation…]

Tui had been considering this. He wanted to see his mother while she was still alive, but the Radiant Islands meant heading into the Empire.

[I think heading East toward the colonies is the wisest move, then sail along the coast until I find a settlement. Most of them are only loosely under the Emperor’s control.]

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Tui and his uncle chatted a bit longer before saying their goodnights.

Moxie wandered in from the dark, proudly carrying a frog in his jaws. Its little legs waving feebly in the air as it tried to escape its situation. The pig flopped down a few feet from Tui, then resolved the frog’s situation with a crunch.

“Moxie! That’s gross. Go eat that somewhere else. You and your frog breath will be sleeping outside tonight! I will not spend another night with your stink."

The next morning, just as the birds were waking up, he tramped through the jungle with Moxie. Sunrise was the liveliest time of day, and every bird whistled, sang, or shrieked as loudly as possible. The raucous noise made concentration nearly impossible, so it was a good time to practice his cultivation.

He drew a pipeline of fire from his dantian and brought it to his third meridian by following the well-known path, blasting strength through his body. He was getting better at this activation and could get it on his first try almost every time.

For his next trick, Tui drew another pipeline while maintaining the first. He brought it carefully and smoothly through the corridor toward his first meridian, but he stuttered the delivery just before reaching his goal, and the fire flickered out of the tube.

He rested a moment while, maintaining the activated heart meridian, taking in the scenery around him. A galah hung upside down from one foot and used its beak and spare claw to strip the leaves from the branch, raining debris onto the ground below. Another sat two branches away, singing in a weird croaky voice. Moxie tried one of the dropped leaves to see if they were good but spat it out.

Tui walked onward and tried again. Bringing the fire from his dantian, through the twisted corridor, and releasing it into the first meridian, flooding it with fire. As it activated, his vision sharpened, allowing him to note a mosquito biting Moxies ear. His hearing became more acute, amplifying the already chaotic din. He engaged the meridian for a few heartbeats longer, then let it go with a sigh of relief.

He let the third meridian go as well and allowed his mind to fully relax. It had been a difficult exercise, but he'd made progress.

He arrived at the tall hibiscus tree he’d downed the day before, the base blackened with fire. He chopped slowly through the trunk near the top of the tree. The hand axe did not have good leverage for chopping, and it always was a drawn-out process. Then he lopped off the remaining branches and stacked them to the side.

By the time he finished, the birds had settled down to an occasional peep, and the sun was a good handspan over the horizon.

Tui reached with his spiritual sense, and brought qi towards his heart, but failed just as he reached the halfway point. Once again, he drew the pipeline into his third dantian, and this time the fire arrived, strength pouring through him.

He grabbed the top of the log and dragged it toward the beach, leaving behind a pile of branches and a deep, trailing furrow in the ground.

It was something he was still not used to, the effortless strength at the tips of his fingers. All he had to do is maintain the pipeline delivering qi. The practice improved his endurance and activation speed every day, and now he could activate a second meridian in longer bursts.

The benefits were not restricted to his cultivation. His body was also responding to the exercise. He had long lost the paunch burgeoning from his sedentary lifestyle. His large frame had been gangly and thin but was beginning to fill out with hard muscle. It was bemusing to watch himself change over such a short timeframe. It sometimes felt like the changes were happening to someone else.

Tui dragged the log next to the hull of his sailing canoe. It was a proa, the vessel his people used to travel over entire oceans. There would be no shores beyond his reach if he managed to build it correctly.

It was beautiful. A long, straight, U-shaped hull, good for beach landings. It was one pace wide and 13 paces long. It was hollowed out and covered with wooden deck panels, which were tied down tightly and sealed with pitch. It featured a high, sharp prow for cutting through waves which was mirrored at the stern.

The log Tui had just brought in would be the outrigger, one of the last pieces he needed to complete the boat. The timber was light and buoyant and would provide lateral support for the sail and cabin.

With the adze, he roughed out the outrigger. It was long and slender with a slight arch, rising a point on the ends. As the structure neared completion, he took more time to shape it precisely. It was made from the tallest hibiscus tree he’d seen on the island. He did not want to screw this up, because there were no adequate replacements.

It was mid-afternoon by the time he was happy with it, maybe more like happy-ish. But it was time to go fishing, and he needed to dig up grubs with the help of his little friend.

***

He had good luck that evening. Perhaps the grubs were tastier, or perhaps it was his infallible skills as a fisherman, but he brought in eighteen fish, not counting the four poisonous pufferfish. Those he threw away with a qi-enhanced arm, beyond the reef, where they hopefully wouldn’t return to eat his bait.

He quickly gutted and salted the fish, hanging them out to dry in the waning sun, out of his friend's reach. The warm evening breeze pulled the moisture out quickly before the fish could rot. He kept one unsalted for his dinner.

Tui decided to treat himself as a reward for the progress he’d made. Today he had completed one of the last milestones toward completing his boat and was feeling great. He hoped he could launch the maiden voyage in five days or so.

For his celebration meal, he sliced up a sweet potato and fried it in precious coconut oil, along with the freshly caught fish. The crispy deliciousness scratched a deep itch for Tui. It was an indulgence he rarely granted himself because of how difficult it was to produce the oil in any quantity. He scraped the last of the tasty flakes into his mouth and gave a long, satisfied groan. Moxie glared at him, disgusted. This was the second cooked meal in a row where he hadn’t given the pig any leftovers.

After tidying up from dinner, he pushed a log further into the fire, bringing light to the little clearing in front of his hut. Then Tui added another pandanus leaf to the sail he was weaving. He channeled his sixth meridian, increasing his manual dexterity. He sat and folded the long leaves over each other, hands flying over the sail, approaching his destination inch by inch.