Jihe-Ganquin Yolanra’Suul did not like this moon at all. Rarely had she been full in such a poor confluence of constellation and season before. It felt awful.

His core had been thrumming with unease ever since his nephew returned with a message for Master Shen, and Master Shen departed without saying a word. The Master had abandoned his teacup, leaving the Morning Dewdrop Silver Temple Monkey Hair white tea to grow cold. Jihe did not even know what to do in such a situation.

Should he have thrown the cold tea out? Should he have kept it at the perfect temperature until Master Shen returned?

With much trepidation, Jihe left the teacup where it was and decided to contemplate the Dao of Wasted Potential. He flew to his private lodgings in the North Wind Pagoda to await the junior owl’s report. His talons carved deeper into his canepost with every passing minute the boy delayed.

“What was his name? Noren-Yan Ninra’Suul?” wondered Jihe.

He ruffled his granite grey feathers in annoyance.

“This won’t do.” he sighed.

Jihe flew to his favorite meditation pillow and began to calm his mind. He imagined himself as a tea leaf growing in Thousand Crane Valley, being picked and dried by Wu De, and brewed to excellence by Master Shen…

only to be left in the cup; cold and untasted.

It was a horrible flavor of longing and disappointment; like dying before he had lived. He pressed into the feelings a little more, and to his extreme luck, a small seed of enlightenment sprouted within Jihe’s mind.

In his third-eye, Jihe saw a young prodigy of the sword–a human that must have lived long ago in Thousand Crane Valley. Under the wing of a hidden master, he honed his skills until none within 10,000 Li could surpass him. Yet, few people had knowledge of his strength. The swordsman was humble and trained only to keep his family safe.

And for the swordsman’s entire life, nothing ever threatened them. The warrior never drew his sword because there were no enemies to fight. Such was the peace in the time he lived. Even banditry was unheard of due to the mere rumor of the man, and the nearby canyons were said to be carved by his blade, (although they were not.)

His sword form and personal style was perfected to an art. Yet only his master’s eyes saw him practice, and approved. Life passed, and the warrior's body aged and withered away. Eventually he could no longer hold a weapon, but in the vision Jihe could see that the wrinkled warrior was smiling in his teacup the week before they dug his grave.

I see the man was satisfied with his life. Would I be happy with the same?

Jihe didn’t know the answer.

To his surprise, the vision continued, and took a very different turn:

Many years later, a Necromancer came and blighted the land that would be Thousand Crane Valley. He found the tomb of the humble hero, and raised him as a General in his army of undeath. The love that the unaccomplished expert put into his training only went to serve evil in the end.

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“Indeed. It is better for good tea to go cold and flow into the earth, than for it to nourish the lips of a demon. Corruption was a true loss. When the beautiful and the good is turned to evil ends… what is a cold cup of tea compared to that?” said Jihe as he opened his eyes.

He had slipped into his human form during the vision, and decided to take advantage of his thumbs to prepare brushes and a fresh scroll. He covered his nakedness in a white robe with blue silk trim, and tied his waist-length black hair back into a ponytail. His hand lingered over a storage ring, but he did not put it on.

A small, transparent spirit that looked like an old silver monkey in simple robes clasped its hands and bowed to Jihe. She had a tea leaf poking out of her little bald head that bobbled as she floated beside him.

This must be the spirit of that Morning Dewdrop Silver Temple Monkey Hair white tea that Master Shen bought. He always knows how to pick the tea that talks to you!

Jihe bowed.

“Thank you, Elder Monkey Hair, for your vision and wisdom,” said Jihe.

The spirit laughed. “Seeing you lose your feathers over me warmed my heart. You lung-breathers are always in such a huff! Sometimes it’s good to have some perspective.” said Elder Monkey Hair.

“I wonder, though. Why did the warrior practice so much? Why was he so dedicated to the blade when there was no pressing danger or need? He was not pursuing immortality, just a mortal swordsman. Motivation can be a hungry fire that will burn out unless something feeds it.” said Jihe.

“Because a swordsman was what he was. As you saw, even though he never truly fought, who can say what number of foul things stayed well away from Thousand Crane Valley because they smelled that he was there?’ said the Spirit.

‘Every day he went to sleep knowing his home was safe was a victory comparable to any accomplishment on a battlefield. He did not grow complacent in peace, but made peace his duty. Peace of mind is worth a lot, and lasts much longer than glory, after all. The satisfaction that it was he who personally guaranteed that peace of mind is probably what fed his motivation’s fire.”

Jihe stood in silence with his arms on the edge of the window as he stared at that moon.

“What are you, Jihe?” asked the Spirit.

“A dagger.” Jihe answered without turning around.

“How crude. A pretty boy like you? I fancied you for a rapier. Why not a sword?”

“Master Shen is the sword, and I am his dagger; I am unheard, unseen, unfelt until it is too late. I will guard my Master’s back. Without Him we are nothing, and I won’t lose this home we have. I have trees I planted from seeds growing here. So I must protect him from everything, even his own stupid self… WHERE IS NOREN-YIN NINRA’SUUL!!!?”

Elder Monkey Hair was gone, but her small voice remained;

"Why has Master Shen left his dagger at home?" ...and her tiny presence could be felt no more.

Jihe vibrated with inspiration, took a brush furiously in hand, and composed a Haiku:

‘Cold tea left wanting

Secrets none may know about

Except my dagger’

He thought the calligraphy was inspired, despite his haste. He put the parchment in the agreed-upon spot, and equipped the storage ring on his table.

Jihe had shapeshifted back into an Owl and was in pursuit of Master Shen before the ink on his work was fully dry.