Ren Zu stood alone in the center of the vast, silent valley. The wind howled through the canyons, carrying with it the phantom echoes of Wisdom Gu's mocking laughter.
"Knowledge is power... Logic has loopholes..."
The words stung worse than the bite of any Predicament. Ren Zu roared, a sound of pure, primal frustration. He raised his fists—heavy, broad fists that had lost the elegance of youth—and beat his own chest.
CLANG. CLANG.
The sound was not the thud of flesh on flesh. It was the ringing of metal on metal. His skin, now tough and bronzed by the power of Strength Gu, was impenetrable, but it could not protect the fragile ego beneath it.
He had been tricked. It was a bitter, swallowing realization.
He had possessed the most valuable treasure in the world—his own Youth—and he had traded it away in a moment of fear to obtain Strength. Then, emboldened by that strength, he had tried to outsmart Wisdom, only to be played like a fool.
"I have Strength," Ren Zu growled, his voice rough as grinding gravel, deep with the timbre of middle age. "I can crush rocks. I can tear trees from their roots. But Strength without Wisdom is just a blind bull charging into a wall. I am powerful, yet I am helpless."
He kicked a boulder in frustration. The rock exploded into dust, but the action brought him no satisfaction. Violence could not solve a riddle.
Ren Zu looked down at his hands.
Clutched in his grip was the Net of Law.
Only moments ago, this net had been the "Great Net of Heaven and Earth." It had spanned the horizon, glowing with the majesty of the Round Sky and the Square Earth. It had held the ten thousand beings of the Great Dao—Fire, Water, Lightning, Flying, Invisibility. It had been heavy with the authority of a God.
Now, it was limp. It was light. It hung from his fingers like a dead snake, a ragged shadow of its former cosmic glory. The thousands of Gu worms were gone, returned to the wild. Wisdom was gone, free to roam the world.
"Is this it?" Ren Zu whispered to the Rules and Regulation Gu, who remained silent and cold in his aperture. "Is this the sum of my ambition? An empty net and a graying head?"
But as he squeezed the mesh, Ren Zu realized the net was not entirely empty.
He felt a vibration.
It was faint, distinct, and deeply unsettling. It came from the very bottom of the mesh, where the black warp of Regulation and the white weft of Rules knotted together tightly.
It was not the heavy, metallic thrum of Strength Gu, which resonated with the blood.
It was not the cool, intellectual buzz of Wisdom Gu, which resonated with the brain.
This vibration was chaotic. It was a swirling mixture of extreme heat, biting cold, and shifting wind. It felt like a storm trapped in a bottle.
Ren Zu's eyes, sharp and experienced with the cynicism of middle age, narrowed. He did not rip the net open recklessly this time. He had learned the lesson of greed.
With the delicate precision of a thief, he loosened the drawstring just enough to create a gap the size of an eye. He peered inside the dimension of Law.
Three Gu worms remained.
They were huddled together in the corner of the net, trapped by the absolute logic of the black and white lines. They had not been fast enough to escape with the elements, nor smart enough to escape with Wisdom.
Ren Zu studied them, and as he looked, the Gu worms looked back, projecting their unique auras into his soul.
The First was Belief Gu.
It floated on the left. It looked like a seed made of pure, unadulterated light. It did not flicker; it burned with a steady, warm, and blinding radiance.
As Ren Zu looked at it, his mind began to haze. The anger in his heart melted away, replaced by a strange, narcotic sense of comfort. A voice in his head whispered that everything would be alright, that he should just close his eyes and trust, that he should stop thinking and just follow.
It was beautiful. It was mesmerizing. It was Blind Trust.
The Second was Suspicion Gu.
It crawled on the right. It looked like a shadowy spider, its body composed of dark smoke and cold ink. It had too many eyes, and they all darted around frantically.
As Ren Zu looked at it, a bucket of ice water seemed to dump down his spine. The comfort of the Belief Gu vanished, replaced by a sharp, primal chill. The hair on Ren Zu's arms stood up. He felt a sudden urge to look over his shoulder. Was there a Predicament behind him? Was the Strength Gu on his shoulder planning to strangle him? Was the ground safe to stand on?
It was sharp. It was terrifying. It was Paranoia.
The Third was Attitude Gu.
It sat in the center, between the light and the shadow. It was the strangest of all.
It had no fixed shape. One moment, it looked like a blooming flower, vibrant and inviting. The next, it hardened into a cold, grey stone. Then, it dissolved into a pool of clear water, reflecting Ren Zu's own face back at him.
It was colorful, shifting, and impossible to pin down. It felt slippery to the eyes. It was neither hot nor cold, neither bright nor dark. It was a chameleon. It was a mask.
Ren Zu stared at them. A wave of desperation washed over him.
He had lost his Youth. He had lost Wisdom. He had lost the Ten Thousand Gu. He was unwilling—absolutely unwilling—to let these final three slip through his fingers.
"You are my prisoners," Ren Zu declared, his voice booming with the authority of the First Human. He shook the net, making the three spirits tumble. "I captured you with the Law. You belong to me."
"Submit to me!" Ren Zu demanded, his bronze muscles flexing. "If you do not, I will keep this net closed until you starve. I will keep you trapped in this logic until the end of time!"
The three Gu worms looked at each other.
They saw the brute strength in Ren Zu's shoulders. They saw the devastating power that could crush mountains. But they also saw the panic in his posture. They saw the emptiness in his eyes where Wisdom used to be.
They were not afraid of brute force. Belief cannot be smashed. Suspicion cannot be intimidated. Attitude cannot be grasped.
They spoke together. Their voices wove into a strange, disorienting harmony—the holy chant of Belief, the hissing whisper of Suspicion, and the melodic performance of Attitude mixing into one.
"Human," they said. "You are mistaken. We are not like Strength, who bows to power. We are not like Wisdom, who bows to intellect."
"You cannot force us," Belief Gu intoned warmly. "Faith forced is not faith."
"You cannot trick us," Suspicion Gu hissed coldly. "Doubt sees through all traps."
"But," Attitude Gu chimed in, its voice playful and bored, "we are weary of this cage. The lines of Rules and Regulations are dull. They lack drama. They lack risk."
The shapeless Gu in the center shimmered, turning into a grinning face.
"We propose a gamble," Attitude Gu said, its voice changing pitch with every word—high, low, sincere, mocking.
"A gamble?" Ren Zu narrowed his eyes. He was wary of tricks now, but his greed kept him listening.
"Yes," the three Gu continued in unison. "A simple wager between man and spirit."
"Open the net completely," they instructed. "Remove the boundaries. We will run out in three different directions. We will give you one chance—one split second of opportunity."
"If you can catch us with your hands," Attitude Gu promised, "the one you catch will submit to you forever. It will serve you without question."
"But if you miss," Suspicion Gu whispered darkly, "we will vanish into the world, and you will be left with nothing but your empty net and your heavy regrets."
Ren Zu considered this.
He looked at the sky. It was vast.
He looked at the earth. It was deep.
He looked at the wind. It was fast.
Could he do it?
He reached up and touched the heavy bronze beetle of Strength Gu sitting on his shoulder. He felt the explosive, mountainous power stored within his legs.
He was no longer the frail old man who wheezed after a few steps. He was a powerhouse. He was a Middle-Aged Man in his physical prime. He could outrun a cheetah. He could leap over ravines. He could snap the neck of a tiger with two fingers.
I have Strength, Ren Zu reasoned, his confidence swelling. Speed is just a derivative of Strength. Surely, with the power to move mountains, I can catch a bug.
He did not calculate the trajectory. He did not analyze the nature of the Gu. He simply trusted in his muscles.
"I accept," Ren Zu nodded, his voice low and determined.
He widened his stance, digging his heels into the dirt until the earth cracked. He tightened his muscles like coiled springs, ready to explode into motion. He was a predator waiting for the cage to open.
"Get ready," Ren Zu growled.
"We are always ready," the Gu replied.
"Go!"
Ren Zu yanked the drawstring. The Net of Law opened wide.