Hmm . . . a little Giang Hu

Please forgive my lack of knowledge about this Genre.

And please allow this short story to morph as it does.

Xi Lo was a master within the Persian Cults that had spread into the western parts of the Central Kingdom. He was a godlike man. His power was well respected by those who knew to respect such things. He wielded a stance that allowed him to manipulate objects outside of him. His Chi had a strong connection to the world around him. So much that he could tear the weapons from his enemies at 30 meters distance. Or even fling large wagons onto crowds of soldiers. But, this is not a story about his warfare. This story is about his leisure.

Xi Lo was an ugly man. He was rough and crude. He had difficulty meeting a strangers eyes in the marketplace. So, he fled from his weakness. He became a recluse. He built himself a simple home not far from Wudan mountain. It was his compound, and he was alone.

Xi Lo was very pleased with the place that he had built for himself. The foundations, steps, and walkways were carefully crafted and placed from large stones that lined the nearby stream. The pillars were hewn and carved from noble trees that were ready to give themselves to the cause. Even the roof and walls were carefully placed, and Xi Lo knew that stones and woods were happy with him. It was the house that wanted to be built. But Xi Lo was lonely.

In an attempt to end his loneliness, Master Xi extended his powers in creativity. With each step he took, he felt the ground's longing. As his eyes roamed, he questioned each thing: "What would you like to be? And where?" And so, he set about fulfilling the requests of every pebble, leaf, boulder, and branch.

Soon his simple home began to resemble a palace of wonders. It was as if the mountain itself had built a gallery of the finest, most ethereal arts.

On the back wall of his receiving room, there was an elegant tapestry woven together by pine needles that had all fallen from the same tree. The tapestry depicted the tree that the pine needles themselves had grown from.

Above his path up from the stream, there hung in the air marvelous blue stones that were found in the stream. The blue stones were fixed in positions relative to each other as they laid in the stream. It was as if the Fa Loi Stream itself ran above the steps.

Adjacent to his front door, a myriad of brown leaves danced with each other as if perpetually blown by a wrinkle of wind. These leaves had enjoyed the fall from their trees. They loved being caught by the wind. They delighted in flight, and so he brought them up from the ground where they lay, and gave them their wish.

The centerpiece of his home was a bowl of water fixed to the ceiling of his central chamber. The water was gathered from the morning dew of the finest morning in spring. The bowl was woven from one branch of the slenderest of willows. It hung upside down from the ceiling, yet the dew drops remained still within it. When a visitor was met in the room, the dew would reform itself, and be molded to the wills, emotions, and attitudes of the guest. But, there were seldom visitors, and this was not the greatest of creations.

The greatest of creations in the enclave of Master Xi Lo was a simple wooden practice dummy.