Small and humble, a spider I be; Yet in stone I adorn, with comrades in peril beside me.
In the olden days, a lesser beetle guai in the Webbed Hollow rose to the rank of captain through sheer prowess. But the promotion swelled his ego, and he lorded it over the others till they shunned him, much to his ire. Upon a day of rest, the beetle captain found himself bereft of friends to squander the hours with and thus roamed the cave alone. He beheld a stone from which long and slender legs sprouted forth. As it turned out, the stone held a spider stirring from slumber.
These spiders, burdened with stones upon their backs, moved in a slow, clumsy manner. The captain, beset by a foul mood, kicked one over and laughed at its plight as it flailed and struggled to right itself. With each attempt it made to stand, he flicked it down again, guffawing.
After who knows how long, crisp raps echoed from the depths of the cave. Soon, hordes of stone spiders marched out of the dark. Seeing the threat, the captain drew his weapons and charged into their midst. The spiders showed no fear; they hurled stones, spat silk and venom, rammed and butted. They drove the captain into a rage, and he spun his twin blades in a killing frenzy amidst the spiders. As he cut them down with zeal, a flicker of lantern light neared, followed by a playful voice, "You fool, you think you can slay every spider in the Webbed Hollow alone? Come with me-I'll take you to play under the peach blossoms."
The beetle captain lifted his gaze to behold a maiden of unsurpassed beauty. His heart stirred, and he followed her at once. Henceforth, he was seen no more. One old guai mused, "To slay spiders within their lair is but to seek death itself."