The echoes of the Rules and Regulation Gu's judgment faded, but the weight of their sentence remained. One at a time.
Ren Zu knelt on the grass, his chest heaving with a mix of exhaustion and lingering adrenaline. He had reached for the stars and burnt his fingers. The glorious galaxy of ten thousand powers was gone, scattered back into the wild winds and deep waters of the world. The lesson was bitter: Authority is not the same as Power. He held the Authority (the Net), but he lacked the Power to keep the subjects.
He looked at the limp, folded Net of Law in his hands. It felt terrifyingly light.
"I had everything," Ren Zu murmured, the taste of regret sitting on his tongue like ash. "And in a moment of arrogance, I lost it."
But Ren Zu was the ancestor of all humans; his resilience was his defining trait. He swallowed his regret, pushing it down into his gut to fuel his resolve. All is not lost, he told himself. The net is not empty. There is still something left.
He felt a faint vibration coming from within the mesh. It was a heavy, rhythmic thrumming, like a heartbeat of iron, mixed with a cool, silent pulsing.
Ren Zu took a deep breath. He did not rip the net open this time. He had learned the price of carelessness. With the delicate precision of a thief opening a lock, he loosened the drawstring, leaving only a gap the size of an eye.
He brought his face close and peeked inside the dimension of Law.
Inside the swirling chaos of the net, where white and black lines of logic intersected, five Gu worms remained. They had been too slow, or perhaps too proud, to flee with the common rabble.
Ren Zu's eyes widened. A jolt of recognition slammed into him.
Among the five, he saw two figures that were etched into his soul.
One was a beetle of dark, heavy bronze. It sat motionless, exuding an aura of crushing weight. Its shell was scarred from a thousand battles, yet it shined with an indomitable luster. This was Strength Gu.
The other was a delicate, crystalline butterfly, its wings shimmering with a kaleidoscope of ever-changing light. It floated silently, its movements unpredictable and profound. This was Wisdom Gu.
Seeing them, Ren Zu was overcome with a complex wave of emotion. He felt overjoyed, like a wanderer seeing old friends after a lifetime of separation. But he also felt a pang of betrayal, remembering how they had abandoned him in the dirt when he was old and useless.
"You are here," Ren Zu whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Fate has a strange sense of humor. We meet again."
He focused his attention on the bronze beetle. He remembered the feeling of Strength. He remembered how it felt to punch a rock and watch it shatter. He remembered how it felt to run without tiring. He missed it.
He spoke to the Strength Gu first, his voice laced with the confidence of his restored youth.
"Strength Gu," Ren Zu called out, his voice echoing inside the net. "Do you recognize me? I am the human you abandoned. You left me back then when my muscles withered and my bones grew brittle. You said I had nothing left to offer you."
Ren Zu paused, letting the irony hang in the air. "Look at us now. I am young again. I am the master of the Net of Law. And you? You are my prisoner. Do you have any regrets now that you are trapped in my hand?"
He waited for the Gu to beg, to plead, to ask for mercy.
But Strength Gu did not tremble. It did not cower. Instead, it buzzed its wings.
HUMMM—
The sound was deep and aggressive, like the growl of a tiger. An aura of arrogance, thick and unyielding, rolled off its carapace.
"Human," Strength Gu spoke. Its voice was rough, like boulders grinding together. "You are arrogant. But your arrogance is built on sand."
"I have no regrets," Strength Gu declared, its tone vibrating with absolute conviction. "I didn't leave you back then because I couldn't stay. I didn't leave because I was forced away by time. I left because I wanted to leave."
Ren Zu frowned. "Why? We fought together. We defeated the Predicaments together."
"Because you became weak," Strength Gu stated bluntly. "And Strength has no place in the house of weakness."
"You think you have subdued me because you hold this net?" Strength Gu scoffed. "You are wrong. A cage can hold a tiger, but a cage cannot make the tiger hunt for you. You want to subdue me? That is impossible."
The Gu worm flared with a dark, metallic light. "I am Strength. I do not bow to trickery. I do not bow to nets. I only succumb to those stronger than me. And you... you are just a human. You are soft flesh and fragile bone. You rely on tools because you lack essence."
Ren Zu felt a flash of anger. He wanted to crush the insect. But he knew Strength Gu was right. He could keep it in his pocket, but he couldn't make it grant him power unless it agreed.
Strength Gu sensed Ren Zu's desire. It paused, its antennae twitching. It saw the vitality radiating from Ren Zu's twenty-year-old body. It smelled the intoxicating scent of his youth.
"However," Strength Gu rumbled, its tone shifting from disdain to negotiation. "I am hungry. And you are full."
"We can make a deal again," Strength Gu offered. "I do not serve the weak, but I will trade with the rich. Give me your Youth. Feed me your prime years, your endless energy, your unblemished potential. If you pay me, I will temporarily obey you. I will lend you my power until your youth runs dry."
Ren Zu froze.
The proposition hung in the air like a blade over his neck.
Give me your Youth.
Ren Zu looked at his hands. They were smooth, unscarred, and steady. He touched his face, feeling the taut skin, the sharp jawline. He felt the blood rushing in his veins—hot, fast, and rhythmic. It was the best feeling in the world. He had fought the river of time, crawled through absolute darkness, and risked his soul to get this back.
Was he about to lose it again? Was he about to trade his twenty-year-old body away, mere hours after reclaiming it?
"No," Ren Zu whispered, stepping back. "I can't. I just got it back."
He thought of the years stretching ahead of him. Eighty years of freedom. Eighty years of dancing, running, and loving. If he gave his youth to Strength, he would become middle-aged instantly. He would lose the beauty of the morning sun.
But then, a howl echoed from the wilderness.
AWOOO—
Ren Zu flinched. He looked up from the net and gazed at the world around him.
The Savage Wilderness was vast and cruel.
He saw the shadows of the giant Predicaments lurking in the forest, their eyes glowing with hunger.
He saw the jagged rocks that could break a man's leg.
He saw the towering beasts that treated humans as snacks.
Ren Zu looked at his youthful body again. It was beautiful, yes. But it was soft. It was fragile. Without Strength, his youth was nothing more than a tender meal for the world to devour. A single Predicament could tear him apart, and all his eighty years would end in a second of bloodshed.
"What is the point of being young if I am dead?" Ren Zu asked himself. "What is the point of having time if I have no power to protect it?"
He realized the cruel logic of the world.
Youth is potential, but Strength is survival.
To survive in the wild, one must burn their potential to fuel their power. A warrior trades his healthy knees for victory. A laborer trades his strong back for food.
Ren Zu gritted his teeth. The decision was agonizing, but necessary. He had to grow up. He had to sacrifice the flower to get the fruit.
"I accept," Ren Zu said, his voice low and heavy.
The contract was sealed.
Instantly, a profound change took hold of him.
Wither.
It wasn't painful, but it was heavy. Ren Zu felt the lightness of his step vanish, replaced by a grounding weight.
His smooth, porcelain skin began to coarsen. It thickened, becoming tougher, weathering under an invisible wind. The rosy glow faded, replaced by the tanned, leathery texture of experience.
His hair, which had been a pitch-black waterfall, lost its sheen. Gray streaks appeared at his temples, spreading like frost on midnight grass.
The boundless, restless energy of the twenty-year-old—the energy that made him want to jump and shout—settled down. It condensed. It turned from a raging fire into a steady bed of coals.
Ren Zu transformed from a vibrant Twenty-Year-Old into a stoic Middle-Aged Man.
He lost the beauty of the flower, but he gained the sturdiness of the tree trunk.
"Come," Ren Zu commanded, his voice deeper, rougher, and more resonant than before.
Strength Gu buzzed with satisfaction. It had been paid. It flew out of the gap in the Net of Law. It was no longer a prisoner; it was a partner.
It landed heavily on Ren Zu's shoulder.
BOOM.
Ren Zu's knees buckled slightly under the weight, but he stood firm. He felt the power rush into him—not the frantic energy of youth, but the solid, crushing power of Strength. His muscles swelled, hard as iron. His bones felt unbreakable.
He clenched his fist. The air popped.
Ren Zu looked at the wilderness. The shadows of the Predicaments no longer looked terrifying; they looked like targets.
He was no longer young. He was no longer innocent. But he was powerful. He was full of the heavy, dangerous confidence of a man who has the strength to crush his enemies.
"I have lost my youth," Ren Zu said, his voice echoing like thunder. "But I have gained the power to rule."
He turned his gaze back to the net. There was still one "old friend" left to deal with.