Tiger's Acolyte
Where has the swordsman gone, with tears in his eyes? The wild wind sweeps the northern sands, lonely and desolate skies. Grass visits the empty village huts, dust welcomes the evil guais. Who knows the bitterness of the lotus heart, or the sourness within the pear's guise?
There was once a swordsman, wild and free, who roamed the lands far and wide. For the love of a woman, he forsook his wandering ways, married, and had a child.
But their happiness proved fleeting. From the mountains beyond the city walls, there arose a wind, fierce and full of malice. It whipped the yellow dust into a frenzy, and the city was choked with it, day after day. Soon, his wife succumbed to a wasting sickness, and their child, too, became ill.
The man was devastated. He spent all his silver in a vain attempt to heal his child. Then he heard ofa bodhisattva on New Mount Sumeru who could
cure the wind-sickness. With haste, he gathered what he still had and set forth with his child.
When he reached New Mount Sumeru, the disciples told him that the bodhisattva had departed for Yellow Wind Ridge long ago and had not returned. The man had no choice but to take his child and set out once more.
When they arrived at the ridge, they learned that this place was right next to the fierce wind. The child's frail condition worsened with each passing hour. They took shelter in the village of Windrest, where the child rested and the man went to find the bodhisattva.
One day, while passing a dry well outside the village, the man heard a tiger's roar. He climbed down into the well and found a hidden cavern, where a great tiger lay, wounded and weak, deep in meditation.
The tiger told the man he was a deity in the mountain, revered by the village priests. In the valley, they had even raised a temple in his honor. He said he'd been ambushed by the yaoguai that stirred up the fierce wind and took over his temple. That's why he was in this pitiful state.
The man was doubtful, but as he asked around in the village, he found that the tale was true in every detail, from the reverence of the priests to the temple in the valley. He hastened back to the well, his ailing child in his arms, to beg the tiger for healing.
The tiger brought out a strangely shaped gourd, filled it with water, and gave it to the child. Wonder of wonders, after drinking from the gourd, the child was able to run and play as he had before the wind sickness struck.
The tiger told the man that the wind had harmed his essence. With the flesh of the living, he could regain his former might, and then he could tame the raging wind and heal the child completely.
The man was reluctant, but as he watched his son grow stronger day by day, playing in the village with the other children, a terrible resolve hardened in his heart. He began to lead the unsuspecting villagers into the well, hoping to restore the tiger to its former strength.
As time passed, most naturally, the villagers found out what he had done. By the time the man returned to the village, he found his son slain by their angry hands.
The man was consumed by regret and drew the sword he had sealed away for years. He fell upon the villagers, and one by one, he cut them down, until the streets ran red with blood. Then, alone, he set out into the shifting sandstorm, lost in the ever-howling wind.
