"Tools..." Ren Zu murmured, the word tasting strange on his tongue, alien and heavy.
In the savage wilderness of his birth, survival had always been a matter of the self. The tiger used its claws; the eagle used its wings; the fish used its gills. To rely on something outside of one's own body felt contrary to the nature of life. Yet, as he looked down at his withered, trembling hands—hands that could no longer make a fist, skin that barely covered his brittle bones—Ren Zu realized the cruel truth. The body was finite. The spirit was boundless. To bridge the gap between the two, one needed a bridge. One needed a tool.
"Weave us," Regulation Gu commanded, its voice vibrating against Ren Zu's freezing skin like the tolling of a great iron bell. "Do not act as the beast, who accepts the world as it is. Act as the human, who shapes the world as it should be. Combine the Limit with the Method. Weave the Square into the Round."
Ren Zu's hands moved instinctively. He did not know the technique; there was no teacher in this dark abyss, and no ancestor to guide him. But the survival instinct of the first human was a powerful guide, sharper than any wisdom. He brought his hands together over his chest, pressing the glowing White Round of Rules onto the abyssal Black Square of Regulation.
Hummmmm—
A sound like the chanting of the universe filled the cave.
The darkness of the Cavern of Eternal Night seemed to recoil, terrified by the sudden imposition of structure. The two Gu worms dissolved in his grip. They were no longer insects; they became streaks of blinding black and white light, twisting around each other like two ancient snakes mating in the void.
The Black Light shot out first. It formed rigid, straight lines—vertical and absolute. They were the warp, the longitudinal threads of the universe. They represented the unbreaking structure, the boundaries that said, "Here you must stop."
The White Light followed instantly. It formed curving, flexible loops—spiraling and knotting around the black lines. They were the weft, the latitudinal threads of possibility. They represented the connection, the adaptation that said, "Here is the way through."
In Ren Zu's hands, the light solidified into a physical object.
It was a Net.
It was the Net of Law.
It rippled with a terrifying authority. It did not look like a hunter's net made of rough vines or twisted hemp. It looked like a grid of crystallized starlight, etched with the secrets of the Great Dao.
Ren Zu gripped the net. The material felt cool and smooth, buzzing with latent power. Although he was still an old, dying man with weak muscles and lungs that rattled with every breath, he felt a sense of control he had never possessed before.
He realized a profound truth: Strength Gu could conquer a tiger in the woods, breaking its bones. Wisdom Gu could outsmart a fox, predicting its path. But this... this Net of Law... this could conquer the World itself. It could tame the river, measure the mountain, and even bind the strength and wisdom .
Ren Zu's eyes, though dimmed by age, burned with a final, desperate fire. He looked into the void where the invisible River of Time flowed, the place where his stolen years had gone.
"Go!" Ren Zu ordered, his voice cracking but his will ironclad. He cast the net into the void. "Catch me a Longevity Gu!"
The Net of Law flew out. It did not obey the laws of physics; it obeyed the laws of its master.
It pierced the veil of the mundane world.
Regulation Gu activated, expanding the black warp. It set the boundary, turning the infinite sky into a closed room. "Escape is prohibited."
Rules Gu activated, spinning the white weft. It set the path, turning the chaotic currents of time into a predictable funnel. "All roads lead to the center."
The net trawled the River of Time. The struggle was immense. The river roared, trying to tear the net apart with the weight of history. The Longevity Gu—elusive spirits of time—darted like golden fish, desperate to evade capture.
The net attempted to snare a massive Thousand-Year Longevity Gu, but the beast of time was too strong; it smashed through the regulations, for Ren Zu's understanding of the law was still too shallow.
The net swiped at a swift Hundred-Year Longevity Gu, but it was too fast; it slipped through a gap in the rules, finding a loophole Ren Zu had not closed.
The struggle against the river of time was difficult even for the manifestations of Law. But the net would not return empty.
Finally, the black and white lights tightened.
The net flew back into Ren Zu's hands. Entangled in the mesh of Order, unable to phase through the absolute boundaries of Regulation or dodge the curving paths of Rules, was a captive.
They returned carrying an Eighty-Year Longevity Gu.
It was a small, squirming insect made of amber light, smelling of ancient dust and fresh rain simultaneously.
Ren Zu stared at it. He was already a hundred years old, a withered husk on the brink of death. His heart was beating its final few rhythms. He did not complain that it was not a millennium. He did not weep that it was not a century. To a man dying of thirst, a cup of water is worth more than an ocean.
He took the Gu with trembling fingers and brought it to his cracked lips. He consumed it.
Gulp.
The effect was instantaneous.
It began as a fire in his belly, a roar of vitality that rushed through his collapsed veins like a flood crashing through a dry canyon.
Crack. Snap.
The deep wrinkles on his face, carved by a century of wind and sorrow, smoothed out and vanished as if an invisible hand had ironed them away.
His frail, stick-like limbs, which had barely been able to support his weight, swelled rapidly. Muscles inflated with power, skin tightened with elasticity, and bones grew dense and strong.
His sparse, gray hair, thin as spiderwebs, fell out in clumps, only to be instantly replaced by a thick, lustrous mane of raven-black hair that cascaded down his back.
A vibrant, terrifying aura of youth oozed from his pores, filling the dark cave with the scent of life.
Thump!
His heart gave a massive, powerful beat, echoing like a war drum.
With a belly flop that defied gravity, Ren Zu jumped up onto his feet. The movement was explosive, filled with a kinetic energy he hadn't felt in decades.
He stood tall, his spine straight as a spear. He looked at his hands—large, smooth, and powerful. He touched his face—firm and unblemished. He looked at his reflection in a pool of water on the cave floor.
The dying old man was gone.
Staring back at him was a young man with sharp eyes and a body brimming with potential. He had defeated the Great Dao's cycle.
He had regained the body of a twenty-year-old.