The Thousand-Year-Old Ginseng

The monk felt his own pulse. It was hesitant and inconsistent.

He whispered to himself, "I must be drained of energy since I am cold. What did I just dream about?"

His five depots—the liver, heart, spleen, lung, and kidney»—have been attacked by the six evils of nature—wind, cold, summer heat, humidity, dryness, and fire.

He petted the deer and smiled.

"We have a visitor."

A small, yellow shadow climbed up the mountain, towards the temple. As soon as he went into the main pagoda, he saw the old monk sitting on top of a high pedestal looking down on him. A single ray of light shone through the middle of the pagoda, bolstering the majesty of the senior monk.

"I hereby decree to you to bring me the medicinal ginseng of the Worldedge. Travel, you must, to the end of the sky, the end of the world, through swamp and mountain, fire and wind, to obtain the herb which even gods desire. You must slay twenty-fold evils, the unparalleled guardian of the Yellow River, the flood dragon Yubaba. I bestow you with the forbidden sword art Heaven-Devouring Swordplay and I will give you my position as Abbott."

The young monk clasped his hands together and bowed.

"I will follow the orders of Your Holiness."

The deer slowly trotted down to the position of the monk and bestowed upon him the book of sword arts and the sword. The youth received it with his two hands, a glint of pride shimmering in his eyes.

"I will complete this with my best effort!"

The young monk bowed and walked away from the temple, going towards the border of the world. He trod on foot, passing a town every day and going through rain, snow, wind, and heat. He cut down bandits with his Sky-severing sword, foiling schemes, saving villages, and challenging countless sects.

When he approached the banks of the Yellow River, he saw the gigantic apparition of Yubaba. The dragon's mouth came lunging towards him in a downwards spiral like the torrent of a raging river.

"Who is there at the banks of the river, seeking to challenge me, Yubaba, the destroyer of civilization? How dare a plant challenge my majesty!"

The monk ground his teeth in anger, "Just because I only eat vegetables doesn't mean I am a plant!"

Yubaba finally attacked. His teeth were the last thing the monk saw before he woke up in a town. Everyone seemed languid like they were carrying ten tonnes of stones on their backs. As he walked further in the streets, the villagers parted to the sides, glancing at him and whispering to each other.

The young monk was unfazed as he continued walking down the street, gripping his sword as he maintained high alertness.

"There he is! He's the robber who stole from the fields of crop. Capture him now!"

The monk tried to resist, but there were too many. A sea of people clawed at him, pushing everywhere and devolving into chaos. In a moment of panic, he reflexively drew his sword and maimed an elderly granny.

"No...no I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to I...I…"

The young monk stopped struggling and was dragged to jail. He was thrown into the jail cell, into a pile of loose hay. Clutching his head in guilt for hurting the old lady, he curled up in that position for ten days until he heard clucking.

Looking behind him in the cell opposite of his, he saw an older man dressed in ragged clothes producing popping sounds with his tongue.

"What do you want? Leave me in silence."

The old man sniggered until he choked on his laughter.

"You are weak. If you want to escape here, crush this stone, but beware of exploding the world."

He threw a red stone at the monk. Wildly cackling, he dove under the hay and seemed to disappear from the cell.

"Humph, you watch me. I'll...break it tomorrow."

The next day, he hesitated. Ten years passed. He felt weaker every passing day until he noticed a very small detail. The bricks of the prison looked like the veins of an animal.

The young monk jumped up and realized that the whole world was the flood dragon's body. He forced himself to step on that red stone, shattering it into fine pieces. He finally exited back to the banks of the Yellow River. The dragon roared in agony.

"How dare you break my heart! You first maim my digestive organs with your sword and then you step on my heart? I was almost done siphoning your energy using my heart. How dare you! I will defeat you."

The monk stomped on the ground.

"Are you kidding me? The crowd of people that were swarming me was your digestive organs trying to devour me?"

Drawing his sword, he slew Yubaba, the guardian of the Yellow River appointed by the owner of the rain and clouds.

It rained for the next three months, never stopping.

He finally arrived at the edge of the world after a journey of five years. His face lost youth, his clothes were reduced to scraps. Inverted mountains scattered the horizons, rivers which flowed backward occupied the lands, and the sun turned into a crescent.

In his amazement, a large monk approached him and asked, "Why do you come here to the end of the world, the border between the living and the dead? What do you seek to gain from such a pointless trip?"

The young monk implored, "Please give me an ancient ginseng to save my uncle."

The chubby monk scratched his bald head and gave him a weird look.

"You are the ginseng."

"What?"

"You are almost ripe for harvesting. That sword art wasn't a fighting technique, it was a curse which turns you into a plant."

The young monk staggered to the ground.

"No. No. You must be wrong…"

"You need to be planted into dirt soon if you want to survive."

The young monk drew his sword and pointed it to the other. Infuriated, he tried to swing, but he felt paralyzed by the ginseng spreading throughout his body.

"You shouldn't have slain Yubaba. All that three months of rain sped up your transformation to the point of no return. We need you to anchor the edge of the world and prevent it from falling off. Accept your duty."

The young monk felt his hands turn solid into ginseng, their roots slowly coursing to other parts of his body. The dirt grappled his feet, rendering him immobile. With the last shreds of his strength, he threw the cursed sword into the river which flowed backward in defiance.