The long winter swung back and forth between cold and warmth, and the snow never lasted long before melting again.
Black Snake wanted something to do. After pondering alone for a long time, Black Snake decided to try transforming the Yin Spirit into a human shape. Where that idea had come from was a mystery-perhaps from some past encounter.
With that decision made, Black Snake began fumbling blindly through the process in the dim cavern.
The Yin Spirit was far too enormous. With no idea how to proceed, Black Snake simply kept willing it to shrink, straining to imagine it growing shorter and more solid.
Through sheer, brute-force effort that lasted well past midnight, Black Snake finally felt the Yin Spirit's immense outline draw inward, shrinking just a little, almost too little to notice...
Good for passing the time, super practical.
A faint ripple of happiness arose, and the Yin Spirit instantly sprang back to its original length of twenty-six feet.
Rather than being discouraged, Black Snake took this brief contraction and loss of control as proof that it really might work.
Transformation was, in essence, the shaping of the Yin Spirit through thought.
Black Snake knew none of the finer points. Still, with that hazy intuition as a guide, charging ahead with brute force would have to do.
Not the slightest distraction was permissible. At the smallest lapse, the shape so painstakingly gathered together fell apart. Everything depended on holding firm through almost savage persistence.
Transforming into a human shape was still far beyond reach.
No rushing.
This has to be done little by little, slowly.
Now that Black Snake understood the rough method of changing the Yin Spirit's shape, all that remained was to invest a great deal of time and practice repeatedly, until the changes became as natural and familiar as breathing.
Inside the cavern, Black Snake clumsily shortened that enormous form over and over...
Time did not matter. Only the task did.
After practicing shortening for a long while, a sudden inspiration prompted Black Snake to try stretching instead, extending that form and making it longer.
The first step was always the hardest. Once Black Snake grasped that crude method of guiding the spirit through thought, further changes came like pushing a boat downstream. The vague notion of "change" served as a guide, sculpting a shapeless mass of mist.
After roughly four full moons, Black Snake could make crude alterations to the Yin Spirit's appearance. Now a clearer target was needed.
Black Snake realized that a detailed understanding of the human body's actual appearance was essential.
All Black Snake seemed to remember was to eat as few humans as possible, that humans walked on two legs, and that they were good at making complicated noises.
A new puzzle arose in that brain: what shape should this Yin Spirit take?
The simplest answer was to go down the mountain and look.
The Yin Spirit returned to the physical body.
The enormous body slowly wriggled forward, pressing through the thick snow and silently slithering toward the inhabited village in the small basin.
The heavy snowfall had probably come only two days earlier. It still lay thick on the ground, with no time yet to melt.
Late at night, only a slender crescent hung in the clear sky. The trees stood bare and leafless. A long black shadow moved across the snow, swaying leisurely from side to side and leaving a winding serpentine trail behind.
An owl perched on a branch happened to witness the scene.
Tilting its fluffy head, it watched the great black snake curiously with large, round eyes.
Before long, Black Snake reached the outskirts of the village.
On a hill outside the village, Black Snake found an outward-slanting rock ledge. Dry fallen leaves lay thick beneath it. The enormous body burrowed into the deep pile of dead leaves and went still.
The Yin Spirit left the body and silently headed straight toward the homes radiating warmth.
A dog sensed something unusual and began barking. Other dogs heard and joined in, and soon barking rose and fell throughout the village.
Someone woke to the noise, opened a door, and poked their head out to investigate. Seeing that the dogs were merely setting one another off, they thought nothing of it, shut the door, and went back to sleep. Dogs were like that; even a field mouse could make them bark. A few extra barks were no bad thing, either. They might frighten off wild beasts.
As the immense, cold shadow glided close to a dog's kennel, the first dog to bark immediately shut its mouth. Trembling violently like grain shaken in a sieve, it tucked its tail and huddled as far back as possible.
Passing the kennel, Black Snake habitually glanced inside.
An inexplicable habit.
The dog was just the right size, neither too large nor too small, perfect for swallowing in one mouthful to fill an empty belly. Unfortunately, the Yin Spirit could not eat food.
Black Snake glided over to a window, raised that head, and peered inside.
This household offered nothing to observe. Everyone inside was asleep, snoring loudly, occasionally turning over or smacking their lips.
Black Snake moved to another home and continued peering through windows.
After five households in a row, everyone was still asleep. In one, a young human woke from hunger and cried out, then went back to sleep after being fed. Only belatedly did Black Snake realize that coming at night had been a mistake. These were not nocturnal humans; they slept after dark.
Black Snake considered waiting until daylight to observe them. If that failed, a human could always be carried back to the cavern in those jaws for a leisurely examination.
Then something amusing caught Black Snake's attention: someone was producing blurry black-and-white images.
Black Snake wriggled closer to watch.
The images came from a little boy.
The little fellow was busy digging a hole, both small hands gripping a hard wooden stick to use as a shovel. His mouth muttered something as he played, focused and happy.
After digging for a while, the little boy stood up in satisfaction, trotted over to a clump of grass, planted his feet, and thrust out his belly. He aimed at the little insects in the grass and let water out, his face showing a serious yet smug smile.
Sensing heat, Black Snake looked into the room. A warm current was quietly spreading beneath the quilt.
Humans are amazing. They let water out in the pictures and can do the same thing in reality. The smell drifting through the window crack is a little strong, though.
The black-and-white images vanished. The little boy stirred groggily a couple of times, avoiding the wet patch beneath him.
That scene had left a deep impression. Black Snake memorized the rough shape and height.
I'll make do with copying this shape first. Once I've worked out the basic outline, I can study how the hands and feet move.
Returning to the body, Black Snake opened those eyes and slithered back to the mountain valley, swaying from side to side.
Black Snake slid into the cavern with practiced ease and coiled up. Just as practice was about to begin, a problem became apparent: the features of that human form seemed to have been forgotten...
After sitting in silence for a while, Black Snake managed to recall the general shape.
Not daring to rest, Black Snake hurriedly began reshaping the Yin Spirit, relying entirely on brute-force concentration to face the difficulty head-on while instinct offered silent resistance.
Inside the cavern, there was really no such thing as day or night.
Sunlight never reached inside anyway.
For Black Snake, that meant more uninterrupted time to practice.
Had someone with eyes that could see both yin and yang been in the cavern, they would have witnessed an utterly horrifying sight.
The enormous Yin Spirit twisted and changed in silence, pulling and gathering into two arm-like parts. One was absurdly long and drooped limply; the other was pitifully short. It was grotesque and bizarre.
For a snake, this was truly too difficult. Imagining something never possessed was hard enough, and limbs lay completely beyond Black Snake's understanding-not even the faintest concept existed.
A smooth little brain had its advantages. Not only did it forget the past, but even the difficulties and setbacks encountered soon grew hazy.
Anyway, I can't go wrong if I just keep doing it.
If I can't manage it today, I'll keep practicing tomorrow. There
are plenty more tomorrows.
Throughout the winter, apart from gazing at the moon and breathing on nights of the full moon, Black Snake spent all remaining time in the cavern, practicing changes to the Yin Spirit's appearance over and over.
Only when the winter snow began to thaw and the hard ice melted did Black Snake go out to drink a few mouthfuls of flowing water.
Perhaps because Black Snake had kept thinking about reducing pointless shedding, there really were no signs of a shed that spring. The expenditure and danger had successfully been reduced.
The winter aconites bloomed.
Their tiny blossoms opened along the edges of lingering snow and dead leaves, utterly inconspicuous, yet carrying a stubborn will that had broken through the snow.
While Black Snake was busy kneading the Yin Spirit into shape, someone else appeared. Treading the stone steps that vanished and reappeared beneath fallen leaves, the newcomer climbed the mountain and moved into the long-deserted Lone Crag Courtyard. From the look of things, they intended to live in seclusion for a long time.
Black Snake had been rather busy lately and had no spare time to observe the new neighbor. They were all merely passing visitors anyway.
Once the temperature felt about right, Black Snake set off over the mountain ridges to catch fish in the river.
After going hungry all winter, Black Snake urgently needed to replenish reserves. No designs were made on the new neighbor, since large fish were easier to digest and a far better bargain than eating humans.
There had been a few changes along the riverbank. Several hollowed-out wooden shells floated near either bank. When waves struck their upturned ends, the empty shells rocked and gave off dull thumping sounds.