Bing Bong, he was a man. Not a woman. He was sitting on floor, very hard, for long time. He want to not die. Yes, not die. That is why he sit. He sit for cultivation. Cultivation is for not dying. It is very important for him. His clothes was simple. Brown, like dirt. Not fancy. He not care for fancy. Only not dying. His hair was black. Like night. But not shiny. Just hair. On his head. He had two eyes. And a nose. And a mouth. All normal.
His eyes was closed. Very closed. Like when you sleep, but he not sleep. He was doing the inner energy thing. The inner energy, it go around. Inside him. Makes him strong. Maybe make him not die. He hoped so. Very much hope. The room was small. Very small. One window. No view. Just wall outside. The air in the room, it was there. He breathed it. In and out. This is normal. But he was doing it special. For cultivation. He feeling a tingle. A small tingle. Like when your foot fall asleep, but not bad. Good tingle. It was the energy. Moving.
"Oh," he thought, but not out loud. "This is good. Maybe I will not die now. Or soon. Or ever." He was very excited inside his head. His head was on his neck. His neck was on his body. All very normal. He thought about not dying. It was a good thought. Better than dying. Dying was bad. Very bad. He did not like dying. Nobody like dying.
He tried to push the energy. Push it up. Up to his brain. His brain was in his head. He want to be smart and not die. But the energy, it was stubborn. Like a donkey. It did not want to go up. It liked being down. In his belly place. He tried again. "Go up, stupid energy!" he thought. He was very angry with the energy. His face, it scrunched up. Like a old apple. But energy not hear thoughts. So it stay. In belly place.
Bing Bong sigh. A big sigh. Air come out his mouth. He was still sitting. On the hard floor. Still not dying. But also, still not immortal. It was a problem. A big problem. He needed to not die. But it was hard. Very hard. Like the floor. He remembered a time. When he was small. He fell down. It hurt. Dying, he think, hurt more. Much more. So he must not die.
He felt a rumbling. Not inside him. Outside. His stomach made a sound too. But the outside rumbling was louder. It was his neighbor. Making noise. Always making noise. Bing Bong frown. He wanted peace. For cultivation. But neighbor not care. Neighbor just make noise. He tried to ignore. Close his mind. Focus on energy. But energy, it was distracted by noise. It just sit. In belly place. Not moving. Not going up. Bing Bong sigh again. This immortality thing. It was very, very hard. And noisy.
Bing Bong, he was still sitting. On the floor. Still hard. The noise from neighbor, it was not stopping. It was like a giant hammer. Hammering his brain. He could not focus. The energy, it was very shy. It did not like noise. It just hide. In his belly place. Like a small mouse. Hiding from a big cat.
"Stupid neighbor!" he thought. His thoughts was very loud now. Louder than the hammer noise. Almost. He wanted to shout. "Be quiet, you noise-maker!" But he was cultivating. He must be calm. Very calm. Like a rock. But inside, he was not rock. He was angry jelly. Jiggling with anger.
He opened one eye. Just a little crack. Like a door. Not fully open. He saw his wall. Very plain. No pictures. No fancy things. Just wall. He closed the eye again. It was not helping. The noise still there. And the energy still hiding.
He tried a new thing. He tried to *beg* the energy. "Please, energy," he thought. "Go up. Just a little. I want to not die. Please." He even tried to make a sad face. Inside his head. For the energy. But energy, it had no eyes. It could not see sad face. It just stay. In belly place.
Then, a new sound. *Scratch, scratch, scratch.* It was from the wall. Not the neighbor. This was new. Bing Bong stop breathing. For a second. What was that? A mouse? A big mouse? Or something worse? He did not like worse. Worse was bad. Like dying.
He slowly, very slowly, opened both eyes. Wide open. Like saucers. He looked at the wall. Nothing. Just wall. He listen. *Scratch, scratch, scratch.* Again. It was coming from *inside* the wall. Bing Bong's heart, it started to beat fast. Like a drum. A very fast drum.
"What is in wall?" he thought. He was not thinking about not dying now. He was thinking about wall monster. Or wall mouse. He did not know. He was scared. Scared was not good for cultivation. Energy, it would run away even faster.
He stood up. Very slowly. His legs was stiff. From sitting on hard floor for long time. He wobbled. Like a baby learning to walk. He went to the wall. He put his ear. On the wall. It was cold. And hard. He heard it again. *Scratch, scratch, scratch.* Very close.
Bing Bong poked the wall. With his finger. Just a little poke. The scratching stopped. Silence. Very quiet. Too quiet. Bing Bong hold his breath. Then, *THUMP!* A very loud thump. From inside the wall. Like something big. Very big. Just hit the wall. Bing Bong jumped. He was very scared now. He forgot about not dying. He just wanted to not be in the room with wall monster. This cultivation thing, it was full of problems. And noise. And wall monsters.