The hibernating Black Snake woke, his vertical pupils slowly opening. The pile of medicinal herbs beside him had turned into a layer of dead leaves, their fragrance spent, leaving only a faint trace. He slowly raised his massive head and flexed his body out of habit, his scales scraping against the rock. Suddenly, he realized he seemed longer. After carefully feeling out the change, he confirmed he had grown one chi longer than before winter.
Black Snake was delighted. Growing meant more than simply getting longer and bigger.
Every new scale, every lengthening section of his spine, meant a longer lifespan, greater strength, and a little more assurance that he could survive.
Delighted as he was, he knew this was only the beginning.
During the previous five-hundred-year stage, he had also grown quickly at first, then more and more slowly as time passed. Every cun had to be won through grueling endurance.
The slightest lapse could send all his earlier efforts down the drain.
He lowered his head and checked his four limbs. Beneath his flesh, they were developing much faster than in previous years. The main bones were already distinct, and the beginnings of claws were forming.
At this rate, perhaps he really would be able to dig up herbs with his claws in a few more years.
His great head emerged from the cave first. The mountains were gray and dusty, the trees bare, with only clumps of pine and cypress retaining their deep green.
In the mountain gully, two Daoists hauled a bundle of firewood downhill. Dead branches rattled against the ground, punctuated by exhausted panting.
A cuckoo called, two long notes followed by two short ones.
His forked tongue sampled the wind: cool and dry, carrying the scent of pine needles and earth.
The early spring