Before we left the plateau, I looked back at the cave entrance. It was more than just a collection of rocks and carvings. It was a place where the boundaries between the physical and the spiritual were thin, a gateway to a world of ancient power.

Arriving back in the city, I felt different again. The chaos and noise of urban life seemed even more jarring compared to the quiet grandeur of the mountains.

I visited the Palm reader again. He was expecting me.

“You have found another piece,” he said, looking at the sculpture in my hand.

“How did you know?”

“I just know.” He smiled. “The threads of these things are interconnected.”

He looked at the sculpture, examining the original wood piece, the first stone piece, and the new, unfused piece.

“Each piece holds a different aspect of the Lim Ling’s power,” he explained. “The first was the heart in the forest, vital and life-giving. The second is the strength of the mountain, ancient and enduring.”

“Are there more pieces?” I asked.

He nodded. “The Lim Ling is a spirit of nature. Its power is woven into the fabric of the world. There are other places, other elements.”