World of Warcraft: Vol'jin: Shadows of the Horde Read Online Free PDF Page A

sneaking suspicion Taran Zhu knew he was smiling and how broadly. Yalia had caught his eye immediately upon his first visit to the monastery, and not just because she was beautiful. The pandaren monk had a hint of the outsider to her that Chen noticed, then noticed her doing her best to suppress. They’d had a few brief conversations, of which he could remember every word. He wondered if she remembered them too.
    Yalia stood and bowed first to Taran Zhu, then Chen. Her first bow lasted a long time. The second, not as much, but Chen marked it and matched it when he bowed to her. Taran Zhu pointed him to the narrow end of the rectangular table, nearest the cast-iron pot. Chen and Yalia knelt and sat back, and then Taran Zhu did likewise.
    “You will forgive me, Master Stormstout, for two things. First, I would ask that you make us tea.”
    “Deeply honored, Lord Taran Zhu.” Chen looked up. “Now?”
    “If it will not disturb you to work and listen at the same time.”
    “No, Lord.”
    “And, second, you will forgive my inviting Sister Yalia here. I felt her perspective would be most illuminative.”
    Yalia bowed her head—and Chen felt a little thrill at seeing the exposed nape of her neck—but she said nothing, so Chen remained silent as well. He started to make tea and immediately noticed something to which he’d not quite become accustomed, despite having spent a great deal of time at the monastery during his stay in Pandaria.
    The cast-iron pot’s lid had an ocean wave motif worked onto it. The terra-cotta teapot had been shaped like a ship. The handle had been formed out of an anchor. Those choices had not been randomly made, though what sort of message they foreshadowed, Chen couldn’t begin to guess.
    “Sister Yalia, there is a ship in the bay. It is stable. What is it that makes it so?”
    Chen carefully drew one ladle of hot water from the pot and noiselessly replaced the lid so he’d not distract her while she thought. He poured the water into the teapot, then gently teased powdered green tea from the caddy. Red birds and fishes had been painted on a black background on the caddy’s lid, and a band of symbols running round the middle represented each of Pandaria’s districts.
    Yalia looked up, her voice as soft as the first petals of a cherry tree’s blossoms. “I would say, Lord, that it is water that makes the ship stable. It is the ship’s foundation. It is the ship’s very reason for being. Without water, without an ocean, there would be no ship.”
    “Very good, Sister. So you would say that water is of Tushui—to use the term common on Shen-zin Su—the foundation, the meditation and contemplation. As you say, without water, there is no reason for the ship to exist.”
    “Yes, Lord.”
    Chen watched her face but saw no sign of her seeking approval. He couldn’t have done that. He’d want to know if he was right. But Yalia, it occurred to him, already knew she was right. Lord Taran Zhu had asked her opinion; therefore her answer couldn’t be wrong.
    With the tip of his tongue just barely visible at the corner of his mouth, Chen applied the whisk to the water and tea within the pot. He did so vigorously, but also gently. The object was not to smash the tea into the water but to mix it all thoroughly. He had to clear the sides, pulling everything to the middle, and then work it out again. He worked briskly, turning the two disparate elements into a green froth that thickly sloshed in the clay ship’s hold.
    Taran Zhu pointed to the teapot. “There are others, of course, who would maintain that the anchor is the source of the ship’s stability. Without the anchor rooting the ship in place, it would be ground against shore by wind and wave. The anchor gouging the bay’s floor is what saves the ship, and without it, the ship would be nothing.”
    Yalia bowed her head. “If I may, Lord, then you are saying that the anchor is like Huojin. It is the impulsive, decisive act. It is what