Chapter Eighty: Between Heaven and Earth, the Eight Expanses First Established
Volume Three: Supporting the Cosmos Across Eternal Ages — Heaven and Earth Take Fixed Form
In the days of solitude, Pangu turned his attention to perfecting the spatial structure of Heaven and Earth. From the space of the Four Poles and the eight directions, he keenly perceived that the boundaries of Heaven and Earth were shifting from blur toward clarity. The positions of the four cardinal directions — east, south, west, north — were growing ever more defined; in all four directions, the Great Earth had extended to some kind of limit.
Pangu named these eight limits the Eight Expanses. At the far edge of the Great Earth in each direction lay the boundary where Turbid Qi met the Void — there, the last embers of Chaos still churned slowly. Though desolate, these margin-zones were vital parts of Heaven and Earth: they defined the world's boundaries.
He carefully assessed the state of the Eight Expanses. The Eastern Expanse was rich in clear qi; the Western Expanse was heavy with turbid qi; the Southern Expanse was warm; the Northern Expanse was cold. These differences, though slight, were the seeds of Heaven and Earth's internal diversity. Pangu committed these distinctions to memory, knowing that, in the world of the future, they would evolve into ecoorders of infinite variety.
Yet the Eight Expanses were not yet stable. Because Heaven and Earth continued to grow, the positions of the Eight Expanses were also in constant motion. With each rise of the Celestial Dome, the Eight Expanses extended a little further outward. Pangu had to continuously adjust the positions of the Four Poles to ensure that the spatial framework of Heaven and Earth remained perpetually balanced. It was like endlessly readjusting the scaffolding of a building still under construction — he did not know how long this growth process would last, but he would keep adjusting until Heaven and Earth attained their destined scale.
The Eight Expanses — east, south, west, north, southeast, southwest, northeast, northwest — were gradually fixing their positions. Standing at the precise center of Heaven and Earth, Pangu perceived the distinct aura of each direction. No two directions smelled alike. The eastern aura was warm-moist and exuberant, like a newly sprouted bud. The western aura was dry and desolate, like a distant wind. The southern aura was hot and restless, like boiling water. The northern aura was cold and still, like frozen ice. The southeast lay between warm-moist and hot, forming a humid warmth. The northwest lay between dry and cold, forming an arid, piercing chill. Every direction possessed its own unique character — like eight siblings in a great family, each occupying its own corner of Heaven and Earth.
The boundaries of the Eight Expanses were no longer as indistinct as they had been at the beginning. The eastern boundary was an arc formed by the faint light of early dawn — an energy-boundary: the furthest point light could reach was the eastern limit. The western boundary was a stretch of deep shadow — the last region where Chaos remnants still clung; though Chaos was steadily diminishing, the light there remained dimmer than in any other direction. The southern boundary warped in the heat-haze — the temperature there was so high that even the air refracted in the field of vision, making the boundary seem to ripple ceaselessly. The northern boundary was the quietest — a vast expanse of cold color, no energy-turbulence at all, only a steady, slumber-like stillness.
Pangu began to feel different moods in the different regions of the Eight Expanses. The east made him feel alert; the south made him feel restless; the west made him feel vigilant; the north made him feel calm. These moods were the effects the energy-fields of each region exerted upon him. When he was weary, he let his consciousness lean toward the north, letting its stillness seep into his Spirit-Platform. When he needed to rouse himself, he turned his attention toward the east, letting its exuberance awaken his vitality. When he needed to stay vigilant, he sensed the aura of the west — the residual embers of Chaos there would not let him slacken.
The transition-zones between the Eight Expanses were the most intriguing places. These were zones where the characteristics of two or more directions blended together. The southeastern transition-zone combined the brightness of the east with the heat of the south, forming a warm, luminous region. The northwestern zone combined the gloom of the west with the cold stillness of the north, forming a chill, shadowed region. The northeast hovered between the vitality of the east and the stillness of the north, forming a clear, cool, bright space. The southwest hovered between the warmth of the south and the desolation of the west, forming a dry, hot region. The diversity of those transition-zones made Heaven and Earth not a patchwork of a few monotonous color-blocks, but a scroll-painting of rich layers and gradients — every inch possessing a different texture.
Pangu's gaze often lingered upon these transition-zones. They were not symmetrical — theirs was a natural, organic distribution. Clear qi and turbid qi intermingled in these zones; light and dark played upon these boundaries; cold and heat held their dialogues in these intervals. When life was born, these different regions would gestate different species. Diversity was no accident — it had been inscribed into the very structure of Heaven and Earth from the beginning.
In the configuration of the Eight Expanses, Pangu perceived the symmetry of Heaven and Earth. This symmetry had formed naturally. East and west stood opposite, light and dark opposite; south and north stood opposite, heat and cold opposite. Each pair of opposites was a mutually complementary balance. The light of the east would not seek to extinguish the shadow of the west; the heat of the south would not seek to overwhelm the cold of the north. They each existed on their own terms, each in its proper place, sustaining the overall equilibrium within a structure of mutual opposition.
The orientation of the Eight Expanses also helped him locate his own position between Heaven and Earth. Before, he could only dimly sense that he stood at the center; now, he could know with precision where that center-point lay. From the east to here was the boundary of light; from the west to here, the boundary of shadow; from the south to here, the boundary of heat; from the north to here, the boundary of cold. He stood at the exact center — the point where all forces converged. That position demanded equilibrium. He had to let his very existence become the fulcrum of Heaven and Earth, allowing the forces of all eight directions to converge upon him and then disperse again. He was the tuning.
Between the Eight Expanses, Pangu also observed the different patterns of airflow in different directions. The eastern airflow rose from below, carrying the breath of the Great Earth upward toward the Celestial Dome. The western airflow descended from above, carrying the coolness of the Celestial Dome down to settle upon the Great Earth. The southern airflow was rotational, like an invisible whirlwind spinning between Heaven and Earth. The northern airflow was layered, one stratum pressing upon the next, like the pages of an immense book slowly turning. Each airflow pattern possessed its own inner laws, and from those laws he read the language of Heaven and Earth. That language was soundless and formless, yet held meanings richer than any voice or script.
The gradual stabilization of the Eight Expanses gave Heaven and Earth a frame of reference. Before, Heaven and Earth had been merely a patch of space carved out of Chaos — no directions, no positioning, everything in flux. Now, with east came west; with south came north; with the four directions came a center. Standing at that center-point, Pangu felt, for the first time, that Heaven and Earth were a complete existence. No longer a half-finished product still taking shape, but a newborn entity possessing a full skeleton. The Eight Expanses were its four limbs; the Four Poles were its spine; the center was its heart.
Within the Eight Expanses, Pangu also developed a new perception of the ground beneath his feet. The hardness of the Great Earth differed in the eight directions. The soil of the east was looser, carrying the pliancy that came from being steeped in clear qi; the soil of the west was denser, carrying the hardness that came from the sedimentation of Turbid Qi; the soil of the south was warm-moist and damp; the soil of the north was cold-hard and dry. These differences, though subtle, deepened his understanding of Heaven and Earth by another layer. Heaven and Earth were a mosaic pieced together from regions of different textures. Every region had its own unique grain and character.