The crowd was still vibrating with excitement from the exhibition fights. Shang’s body was brimming with adrenaline from YiHua’s display of strength. The testing was next. He felt ready to leap from his skin. Despite the feeling of dread he had about this day, he was more confident than he had ever been since his accident. The effects of the gem made his stomach feel warm and the smiles all around him made him smile in turn. He breathed in deeply, letting the fresh night air soothe away some of the lingering tension in his lungs.

YiHua was quickly whisked off the field by her instructors. Shang watched her go with dismay. He desperately wanted to talk to her about what happened, but it would have to wait until after his testing. Xin gripped his forearm in support as the Master Elder returned to the field. He lifted his right arm indicating the need for silence. The crowd quickly obeyed.

“Children of FuJia,” the strength of the elder’s voice belied his thin skeletal frame. The Master Elder was a master cultivator in his time so when he called for silence, the crowd obeyed. He was famous in the village for being the youngest to open all twelve of his meridians at age fifty. The last meridian, the brain meridian, is notoriously difficult to open and required keen insight. It called for deep introspection and understanding of oneself and the universe.

“Today, I am gladdened to see the strength of the next generation in full bloom under the eyes of the Moon Goddess. While my expectations were high, these young cultivators have somehow managed to exceed them. It seems that we have been truly blessed.” The moonlight was so strong this deep into the night that the whole world was cast in a pale blue sheen. Shang felt a shiver at his words and what he knew was to come.

“As you may know, I am near the end of my Path. So it is with great pleasure that I witness the immense future of this village. Our future will be defined by our strength in the martial arts. Cultivation will be the bridge between us and the heavens and all the riches it contains.” The crowd responded to the familiar words with vigor. Even Shang felt the sway of his message. What would it feel like to be seen by the heavens? Shang’s head lifted as he studied the swollen moon in the sky.

“These students are treasures to be admired and polished. I hope they stand as pillars of inspiration for those walking the Path toward Heaven. With that being said, I want to welcome those set to start this Path onto the field.” The Master Elder gestured for Shang and the rest of his cohort to step into the field.

Xin patted his back in a last show of comfort. As Shang descended onto the testing field, his gaze searched for his mother in the crowd. He spotted her seated next to his father. Her face was clouded in worry and fear. Shang’s ears redden in shame at her expression. The lack of expectation in them made him feel small and naked under the glare of the full moon. His earlier confidence was slowly dissipating, leaving him a husk.

The other children, by comparison, were almost jumping with enthusiasm. The test for admission was a simple one. The elder would feed the child with a stream of qi and observe the flow of energy through the child’s body. While it was not unheard of for children to fail this initial screening, it was rare. Only a few children a year lacked the spiritual channels for even admittance into JaLong. These were often due to birth defects that hindered the passage of qi through the lower meridians.

While Shang had cycled qi in the past, he hadn’t succeeded in years. He knew something was wrong with his channels, but he hoped it was mendable with time and rest. The idea of feeling the energy flowing through his veins again sent chills of anticipation and fear down his spine. Shang quickened his pace and landed fourth in line. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

The Master Elder stood at the head of the line with his eyes closed. Soon, a faint orb of light appeared in front of him. The orb grew in brightness and opacity until it resembled a marble the size of a human head. The orb was mostly devoid of color. Only thin wisps of blue and gray energy disrupted the pale white mass.

He beckoned the first child to step up to the orb. Shang watched the interaction curiously. Though he had seen this test from afar, he wasn’t sure exactly what needed to be done. The Master Elder’s hands were outstretched, encompassing the orb in his palms.

“Come closer child.” The child obeyed. He was now so close that the glow from the orb were casting faint shadows on his features. The child’s body tensed suddenly in surprise before relaxing again. The glow surrounding him was getting brighter. It was no longer fueled by the external light of the orb. His skin emitted a faint luminescence starting from the soles of his feet. Soon his whole body was giving off a pale blue light.

With a nod of the head, the elder indicated his success, and JaLong instructors moved forward, shuttling the new student away from the testing grounds. The next few tests preceded in a similar fashion. All three children proceeded to glow as qi was infused through their meridians. The second and third test-takers never matched the radiance of the first student but they both passed without much trouble.

Shang stepped up to the orb. From his observations, he knew he didn’t have to do anything other than stand there. He made sure to get as close to the orb as possible, grasping onto any potential advantage he could get. The Master Elder did not meet his eyes. Instead, his attention was on the swirling orb of energy before him. Shang was likewise mesmerized by the light from the orb. He yearned to breathe in and feel the cooling spill of qi flow into his body. Instead, he waited patiently for the test to begin.

After a few seconds of anxious waiting, he could feel the bottoms of his feet tingle. He felt as though he had stepped onto a patch of grass sheathed in morning frost. The feeling was not unpleasant at first. The chill, however, gradually turned into a stinging numbness. His whole foot felt leaden. Each heartbeat sent pulses of stabbing pain through each foot. Shang stared down in shock and betrayal. Even though he could feel the pain, the feet did not feel a part of him. He was almost surprised to find that they were attached to him at all.

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He continued to stare at them until he felt his head spin. His jaw clenched involuntarily, and his mouth filled with the coppery tang of blood. He could faintly hear shouts of alarm behind him. A pair of hands caressed his head from where it had landed in the dirt.

When had he fallen?

He could see the blurry shape of face hovering over him. He tried to focus on that face, a face he should have recognized, before his whole world faded into darkness.

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Shang sat facing the river, his face covered in shade. The sun was setting on the horizon painting the sky in shades of purple and red. The blue monarch butterflies had begun their migration south. The first few were dotting the skies above. They looked like locusts from this far out, their colors indiscernible. Even from his vantage far from the village center, he could hear the faint echoes of celebration in the distance. Shang took in a deep breath, feeling his airways expand without pain or resistance. It was hard for him to relish the effects of the blood gem.

Shang tried to push the memories from the night from his mind, but his thoughts revolted. The scene of the testing fields replayed through his head, his mind making up additional details to supplement the already bad memory. He could almost see the disgusted expression on Master Elder’s face and hear the conspiratorial mutterings of the crowd.

Demon. Cursed.

A faint crunch of feet on grass disrupted his traitorous imagination. Shang let out a sigh, expecting to be greeted by his mother’s pity and feigned optimism. He had just managed to break away from her care and didn’t want to be subjected to it again so soon. He could hear the intruder clear his throat. To his surprise, it was his father standing next to him. LingDian’s uneasy expression and awkward stance made his discomfort clear. Despite his job as an artist, his father was not a man used to expressing his emotions personally.

Shang shifted to make room for his father in the shade. The two of them sat for a while in silence. Shang could feel the tension in the air at the words unsaid, but the feeling soon dissipated. Both father and son relaxed as they watched the sun disappear behind the peaks of Mount AnSan. The color leached out of the sky as the glow of the moon overtook the heavens.

“It was this time of year when I first met your mother,” LingDian said. Shang looked at him curiously. He never heard stories about how they met. His father fixed his gaze on the moon, lost in memories of the past. “I was walking down the river. The ground was littered with dead butterflies. The winter had come early that year and many froze in the night.” A butterfly flew down between them to rest on a wildflower as though punctuating his retelling. “I remember thinking that it was beautiful,” he mused. “The ground was littered with a sea of crystal blue wings. It felt like I was walking on crystallized water.”

At Shang’s skeptical look, he admitted, “Of course, it was sad as well. But I think those two things often go hand in hand.” Shang nodded slowly. His father had often read to him from the epic poems of Master JunCai. It did not surprise him that his father thought this way. Old poets and artists of all kinds often romanticized the act of dying.

“This was right after the death of my parents. Somehow, seeing those dead butterflies, frozen in midflight, dead yet still so beautiful comforted me.”

“You mentioned meeting mother?” Shang prompted. LingDian gave him a chiding look.

“Patience, MingMing, is as great a virtue as strength.” Shang rolled his eyes.

“That’s a poet’s answer. In the real world, nothing is greater than strength.”

His father only shook his head in disagreement. “Since when did you get so bitter to the world? Where did my sweet little MingMing go?” he teased. “But alright, I’ll get to the part where I saw your mother,” he conceded.

“I noticed her because she was holding a broom. I remember staring at her, wondering why she brought a broom to the river. Of course, I thought she was beautiful, but it was almost hard to tell under the layer of tears and snot covering her face. I feared approaching her. I did not know her, so I assumed she was a traveler. That in itself was rare. Besides, you know your mother. She can be very intimidating when she wants to be.”

Shang just scoffed in response.

“Finally, my shame at refusing to help a crying girl overtook me. I approached her and asked her what was wrong. She looked at me like I was an idiot. She gestured to the piles of butterflies she’s swept up into tiny mounds all along the riverbank. She said, gesturing at the ground. ‘This is wrong. They had such a short life, just to die like this, all at once.’ I realized that she was gathering their bodies for a water burial.”

Shang nodded his understanding. He knew his mother could be overly sentimental at times. She was especially weak to the plight of small animals.

“So, I’ll tell you what I told her. ‘A life isn’t summed up by any one event, least of all by one’s death.’” He paused, finally looking at Shang. “The same goes for the testing.”

Shang rolled his eyes. “Are you trying to make me feel better? You’re equating my failure to death?” Shang asked.

“It is, of a kind,” he answered. “I know how much you wanted to be a cultivator. Even when you were a baby, you were so hungry for life. Nothing we showed you was ever enough. You were always looking for trouble and searching for something greater. Come to think of it, you must have gotten that from your mother,” he said affectionately. “That thirst for something more made us proud, but it made us worry too. We felt like, no matter your path, not even the sky could contain you.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry now,” Shang said bitterly. A large warm hand caressed his head, making him feel small again.

“When the butterflies die, their life energy gets transferred into qi. It joins the veins of the earth and becomes something greater than it could be in life. I know you may not see it now, my son, but there is life beyond this failure. No matter your Path, we know you will seek greatness. When you are a wizened old man like me, you may even come to thank the heavens for this day.” Shang met his father’s warm gaze tentatively.

The love and solidity of his eyes thawed at the deep resentment in Shang’s stomach. His father’s face wore the years more obviously than his mother’s did, but he was still a young man. Shang thought back to his father’s dance. His grace and strength as he leaped across the field. The beauty of his movements as he danced with the wind. Shang could feel a decision solidifying in his mind. With it, the embarrassment of the previous day grew dimmer.

“Father, will you teach me? Your sword dance?”

LingDian’s face lit up, rivaling the brightness of the stars.