The Spider Clan’s chief abbot had entrusted their newest
application to the monk Wangohan, allowing him to develop it
as he so desired. At the end of the first month, master Suku
was called in to review the monk’s progress.
“You have chosen a web framework which has never been used
at the Temple,” Suku observed. “I cannot say whether you are
employing it well or poorly, but your code twists and
wriggles around the API like a snake among the brambles.”
“I had read many encouraging reviews of this framework,”
explained the monk. “All were promises written upon the
morning wind. Now this snake has lost his way.”
“Nostrils in the cold underbrush; tail still warm in
sunlight,” said Suku.
Wangohan shook his head. “I have come too far to turn back
now. What advice can you give for the journey forward?”
“None at this time,” said Suku. “But at midnight tonight,
take up a lantern and follow the path that crosses Zjing’s
Bridge. I will send an adviser to wait for you on the other
side.”
When the appointed hour had arrived, Wangohan stole away
from the abbey and started across the long, swaying bridge
that spanned the chasm. He had just reached its midpoint
when the planks of the far end burst into flame. Fire shot
down the ropes toward the terrified monk; half the bridge
was now ablaze. In the terrible light, master Suku could now
be seen on the far end, extinguishing her lantern and
walking away.
Backing away from the inferno, Wangohan was enlightened.
