as I adjusted myself to a more confortable position, my pack opened...out fell the Wisdom of the Ages...my one treasure in this world...

I picked it up...setting the water jug to the side...

MuLing...the Wisdom of the Ages..."this is too much"...frowning, I wondered about the visions...I wondered about the journeys of the other guides...what they might find...what I might find IF I was to follow them into the world, in quest of the visions...

I turned the Widsom of the Ages over in my hand...my mind racing with images of monks...climbing hills...mountains...of monks swimming streams...fighting beasts who stood in their paths...a myriad of monks...moving their bodies in unison...to some distant music...in fighting stance one moment...blocking with their staffs the next...

suddenly MuLing stood before me...shimmering like the reflection in the water...I am sure my eyes grew quite large...as all I could do was gape at him...

"You are like the water jug.  You must be sound to hold that which you contain.", he said.  "A jug with a chink is of no use."

I turned to look at the jug, thinking it must have sprung a leak and...when I turned back...he was gone...