Tales Beyond Ten Thousand Feet

Xue Chang Shan
Zeng Zhu’s House
Eleven Thousand Feet

Zhu scratched his beard as he looked at the board. He scratched his beard and looked at his friend Yingtai. He scratched his beard as his wife walked over with more hot tea for the both of them.

“Digging for gold?” she asked.

Zhu grunted in response barely noticing the steaming hot tea placed in front him. Yingtai sipped on his tea happily and smiled in thanks. Zhu barely noticed the knowing look his wife, Qing, gave his friend.

“Whatever you two are conspiring, it won’t work,” he stated, his eyes still focused on the go board.

“You see schemes where there are none. You’ve put yourself into circumstances of your own creation,” Yingtai before continuing to sip his tea.

Zhu scratched his beard harder. Cornered at every…corner. Yingtai basically had full control of the board. He on the other hand had barely any stones in play at all. But he wouldn’t give up now. There must be an opening somewhere. Patience through adversity!

“You do this every time, you grumble and stare at the board for an hour before storming off. I’ve got you beat. Yield.” Yingtai said, clearly trying to throw Zhu off his game. At least that’s what Zhu figured. He leaned forward to get a better look at the board.

“Any closer and you’ll be touching stones with your eyes,” Qing quipped as she prepared dinner for the three of them. Momo dumplings were currently steaming whilst she crushed and mixed in ginger into a chili sauce. Zhu tried to ignore the delightful aromas. He had to focus! Victory at all costs!

“I swear you age five years every time we play,” Yingtai commented, staring at the furrowed brow of his friend.

“Quiet! If I had some silence, I would win!” Zhu barked, pointing at both his wife and his friend. He looked back at the board again. Blast. It was no use. His concentration had been broken. The sinking feeling of defeat fell over him like a cold shiver. Or maybe there was a draft. He could never tell. It was all the same.

“I yield,” he grumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” Yingtai asked with a sly grin painted on his face.

“I yield you shit bag!” Zhu repeated much louder.

“Gracious of you, I accept!” Yingtai said whilst doing a mock bow.
“I don’t even know why I play against you, you’re clearly beyond me,” Zhu grumbled as he collected the black stones from the board.

“Oh don’t be too hard on yourself, you’ve beaten me plenty of times,” Yingtai said as he collected the white stones. “And I am not so gracious in defeat.”

“Ha! Aint that the truth, I remember when I beat you for the first time! You didn’t speak to me for a month!” Zhu Laughed. Yingtai blushed and pinched his nose at the thought coming back to him. They were young. Full of endless gusto. And no awareness of their own limitations. A time happily now in the past.

“I have improved, I'll have you know!” Yingtai was quick to reply.

Qing placed a full plate of momo between the both of them after the board had been cleared. “So you wouldn’t be upset if I beat you?”

Both of them looked at Qing. Zhu started laughing. Yingtai feared the thought. Qing ate a dumpling.

Winds howled against the peak, whistling their own song. Clouds split against the great blade that pierced the heavens like an ocean breaking on a cliff. The icy snow settled where it could, finding respite from the torrent that it endured just to be brought there. The mountain stood unwavering in its dominance of the landscape.

Crack.

The dark rock protruding through the drifts of snow like razors of obsidian. The steep slopes, a guarantee that…

Crack.

Ahem. A guarantee that all paths lead to an early demise. The mountain would be un…

Crack.

The mountain would be unta-

Crack.

What the hell is that?!

Crack.

Meng Zhang Shan
Twenty Eight Thousand Two hundred Feet

Wen Xuan dug his pick into a jagged edge of the obsidian looking rock, securing a line in a single motion. He took a minute to breathe. It offered no relief. The air at this altitude had nothing to give. His muscles screamed at him to cease any further advancement. He took a step, ignoring their hopeless cries. He kept his eyes on only a few feet ahead of him. He took another step. The deep snow hiding the path from him. His progress had been slow, tentatively feeling the way before as to not go careening over the side. The thought crossed his mind. Fall down the slope. He looked mere inches to his left. The base of the mountain was obscured by cloud cover. Despite the clouds’ secrets, there was a promise of a gruesome end. He wrestled his thoughts back to his goal. He looked up. The peak. So close. He took another step and with a swift motion of his arm…

Crack.

Another anchor secured. He fasted the line quickly. Or as quickly his shaking gloved hands could allow. He looked up again from his feet towards the peak. The peak. So close. It’s right there! Run! You can make it! Let it be over! Hurry! He grunted as he wrestled his thoughts back onto his goal. Damned body! It would be his undoing. He would have laughed but his wheezing dry lungs permitted no such joys. Another step. He just had to focus. One step at a time. He had been warned. He had trained. Being told and experiencing the death zone were two entirely different things. He raised his arm and… he let it fall back to his side as he leaned slightly against the jagged rocks. He took more ragged breaths, hoping for some reprieve. Once more the howling wind laughed at him. Taunting him with its promise of air. The Dragon’s Song they called it. The locals. He closed his eyes. He could see their faces. They had been so helpful to him. He smiled. They offered him warm accommodation. Provided food. He helped when he could to make up for it. If only he could somehow… return… the…

Falling. Falling! Xuan jolted back to life. He was standing, dangling over the edge. His line held him from the cold doom below. He drew in large gasps of air. Gulping the thin wind as much as he could. Slowly pulling back up the rope to the jagged rocks he had rested at. Damned body will be the end of me! I called it, he thought to himself. The adrenaline surge coursed through him. It did little relieve the pain and aching, but his eyes laid on the peak once more. He gritted his teeth and took another step. And another. He would not die here. He would conquer the dragon! The first! Another step. The wind redoubled its efforts seeing the arrogance of a single man. It cut through all the layers of gear and thermal insulation. Xuan shivered more than ever. He raised his arm…

Crack.

He struggled to secure the line. Shivering too heavily. Slow and steady. Breathe. It took longer than before but he finally managed. He kept up his slow pace. Step. Breathe. Step. Breathe. Step. Breathe. Breathe. Damn this was hard. Another joke. Great. His mind was wandering again. He looked up from his feet at the horizon. The view was something to behold. Even in the darkness of the early morning he could see all the other peaks. All taunting him with their own dominion. He looked back to the peak. It was barely a handful of feet away. Mother of god. He was so close. Another surge of adrenaline. The last bit of energy he had. His near frozen limbs plowed through the deep snow. He swung his pick one last time…

Crack.

He quickly secured the anchor and line. A couple more feet. There was a snowy mound before him. The peak. The peak! Xuan slowly took deliberate steps onto the mound. He stood atop the mountain. All his pain vanished. His burning lungs stopped burning. The cold, a distant annoyance in the back of his mind. The wind blew against him at the top. He felt such elation he could hardly form thoughts. He gazed at the view. He twisted and turned to face each direction. He stopped. Just beyond the mound he saw something. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, he looked again. It was a figure. A man! Perhaps a body. He had seen many on his climb, but they were far below where he was now. Compelled, he went to investigate. Step. Slowly he climbed down the mound towards the figure. He swung his arm and…

Crack.

He was slow to secure his line. He kept turning his head to look at the figure. They were sitting. Partially buried in snow. Xuan definitely knew he wasn’t hallucinating. Despite the limited time he knew he had, he made his way towards the figure. It was… a man! A bald man! Xuan dusted snow off the body. It was a monk, sitting there, his legs crossed. His face a grisly smile, permanently frozen in place. Xuan stared at the corpse. He looked around and down the mountain. There was no way for him to get there…unless…

Ha! Hahahaha!

Xuan finally found the air to laugh. With all his energy he faced the monk and offered a bow. It did not dull his spirits. Xuan was surprised at himself. He smiled as he stood back on the top of the mountain once more. He looked around for a mere moment. Second to the top. He began to follow his path back down. Step. Breathe. He gripped his pick and the ropes tightly. Second to the top! Not bad!