(Day 215)
Five weeks for his ribs and wrist to heal, confined to the dormitory building. Much of his time there had overlapped with Xiaotong, convalescing from very similar injuries. The elders had made it clear that this time did not count toward Pengfei’s sentence, so he didn’t feel guilty socializing with his peers when they came back each evening. He’d even joined them for meals in the Dining Hall, once he felt well enough, and walked around the sect when he needed to stretch his legs.
The splint came off but Pengfei’s punishment in the cliffs still did not begin. His expertise was needed in the valley beneath the sect. Another four weeks tending to the horses and teaching more of his brothers to ride. Shutian and Nanxi did most of the heavy lifting. Chen Lei had forbidden him from any activities that might aggravate his freshly healed injuries. No breaking in new mounts, no sparring with the other disciples.
The stay in the valley was more comfortable this time. The new bunkhouse had been completed by the workers from Hotan, so the disciples had packed up their tents and moved indoors. The nights were quiet since the builders had broken down their temporary village and returned to town.
Gentle rides on Horse. He continued to circulate his internal energy as dictated by the sect’s qinggong method, attempting to lighten the burden for the mare as he perched on his saddle. There was still no discernible effect.
Pengfei gave firm instructions to the other disciples as they learned to ride. Even issued stern orders if necessary, to curb any rough-housing or inattention that might lead to injury. He exercised his little authority judiciously, not wanting to come off as a puffed up tyrant, and his peers accepted it with minimal complaint.
Chen Shan supervised the boys when they weren’t riding. The man didn’t seem to take any position on Pengfei’s disrespect toward Elder Weidao. There was no persecution from the Taoist master, nor any special treatment. It was the same even-handed firmness that was shown to all the other young men.
The training was more well-rounded than under Chen Mo. Neigong, calisthenics, qinggong, and swordsmanship. Pengfei did what he was physically able to, most everything that the others did. He earnestly practiced the ‘Swift Dragon Lightning Sword’ when that part of the day came but was limited to controlled drills. No contact that might put his body at risk.
Despite the dedication Pengfei showed, he looked forward to setting down the jian for good. Chen Rulan had hinted at another option, something that would allow him to dedicate himself to the fist and still survive in a world of weapons. But Pengfei had not seen the man for weeks, except fleeting encounters in the sect’s compound.
So, Pengfei was glad to find the elder waiting for him at the gates on the day he hiked up from the valley. Chen Ji was there too, in one of his manic phases, talking excitedly to the other elder. They both carried bags and crates, and Pengfei’s heart sank a bit when he realized what this meant. Straight into confinement. He would not set foot inside the sect today.
--Not today, and not for the next year. From now on, it’s either the cliffs or the valley.--
“Come along, come along.” Chen Ji said and led them along the path to the northeast, toward the cells.
Rulan walked ahead with his martial brother. Pengfei stared silently at his instructor’s broad shoulders, as the older men discussed innocuous matters amongst themselves.
--Wonder how the others are doing? Has Neng caused any more trouble? Nothing happened for the five weeks I was recovering in the dormitory… maybe he and his master got the message. Had a change of heart.--
The path narrowed. The mountainside fell away and they came to the cliff that was home to the punishment cells. The trio passed one of the caves, then another and another. To the very end of the long row. The elders set down their burdens when they were above the final alcove and turned to Pengfei.
“You’ll be staying here.” Chen Ji announced.
The pair of elders looked expectantly at Pengfei, who gave a reluctant glance over the edge.
--I already know the answer but…--
“Is there a ladder? Or a rope maybe?”
“Just go.” Chen Rulan commanded.
Pengfei took another look over the side, adjusted the bag on his back, and hesitantly eased a foot down the rockface. The mountain was steeper here but there were still plenty of places to plant his feet, hand holds to ease himself down.
Up above, the elders were still discussing whatever had occupied them on the walk.
“Are you paying attention?!” The disciple shouted up at them.
Chen Rulan shooed him along without actually checking on his progress.
--Shit, shit, shit…--
He scraped his stomach along the stone and worked his way toward the opening below. In a few more minutes he was level with the cave opening and could reach out a shaking foot to step onto a prominent ledge.
“Okay! I made it!” Pengfei yelled up to the elders then stumbled deeper inside on wobbling legs.
He sat himself down on the solid rock, breathed deep, and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. First Chen Ji, then a moment later Chen Rulan, came bounding into the cave carrying their bags and boxes. They placed the items down just back from the ledge.
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When he had reined himself in a bit Pengfei made to stand, out of respect for the elders. But they sat across from him instead. Settled in for a conversation.
“You can’t afford to stay idle while you’re confined here.” Rulan began.
“Yes, sir. I know I’ll have to be diligent since I’ll be away from the main sect for so long.”
“I hope that’s not a complaint.” Chen Ji inserted defensively. “I was as lenient as I could be. Maybe I should have proposed a few whippings as well…”
“No, Elder Ji, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful! Just –“
Chen Rulan waved off the rest and continued. “I thought we should discuss the martial arts a bit before you start your seclusion. The path you’ve chosen. You’re still intent on pursuing the bare-handed styles?”
“Yes, sir. The fist, in particular.”
“You can’t be so narrow minded. Someone who studies the sword doesn’t focus solely on the thrust. They learn a variety of techniques. And you’ve already set yourself enough of a challenge without limiting the options further. You’ll naturally have your preferences, your strengths, but you should study broadly.”
Pengfei pursed his lips, thinking off all the myriad unarmed styles. His focus had been on Kunlun’s ‘Heaven Shaking Fist’ and Shaolin’s ‘Arhat Fist’. The training in the ‘Kunlun Wishful Hand’ was engaging, but he’d only done so because it was forced on the Discipline Hall by Chen Ji.
Chen Rulan cast an even wider net now. “If you want to pursue the empty-hand you’ll need to acquaint yourself with several styles. The fist, obviously. You have a good start there, but you need to go deeper. Something that focuses on kicks. The palm. Perhaps, a finger style, though that is fairly specialized. Grappling. The ‘Kunlun Wishful Hand’ is – “
“It’s not meant to stand alone.” Chen Ji said. “You’ll have to integrate it with something else.”
Chen Rulan agreed, “Yes. You’ll also need to discard and replace your current qinggong and neigong – ”
Pengfei started to protest, but a raised palm silenced him.
“ – and you’ll need to develop some level of waigong. And finally, find some way to deal with weapons-users.”
The elder at last came to the end of his litany and paused for the boy to digest the information.
--Fist, leg, palm, finger, grappling, qinggong, neigong, waigong, weapons…--
Pengfei sighed, slightly discouraged. “That’s… that’s a lot.”
“Yes. And as you know, our sect is focused on the jian. You’ll have to try and supplement your education once we rejoin the Wulin because most of that material can’t be found in Kunlun.”
“You said ‘most’. Does that mean…”
“That brings us to your training menu.” Chen Rulan withdrew a book from his robes. “I’ve packed you some more texts in one of those bags, but this one warrants special attention.”
Pengfei could immediately tell it was another martial arts manual. He reached out with both hands to receive the text from Chen Rulan, turned it round and read the cover.
‘The Mountain King Step’.
He immediately began flipping through the pages as the elder continued speaking.
“It sounds impressive, but it’s just a combination of our Kunlun methods with a common variant of the ‘Gecko Climbing Arts’. It’s well suited for hand-to-hand combat, and you’ll find it useful in terrain like this.” Chen Rulan gestured to the cave entrance and the mountain beyond.
“Climbing Arts... I hesitate to ask, but does that mean I’ll be – “
“Yes.”
“Shit.” Pengfei cursed, already scared of venturing out onto the cliff face again. “But sir, I don’t think I’m capable of learning something like that on my own. I certainly wouldn’t want to attempt it alone.”
Chen Ji spoke up again, with a sly smile. “You're technically not allowed visitors once your punishment begins, even from the elders. But these cells require a lot of maintenance. I may need to stop by, now and then.”
--I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.--
But Pengfei only said, diplomatically, “I see.”
With that, the head of the Discipline Hall stood and made to leave. “I’ll be seeing your soon, so no need for a tearful goodbye.”
But Pengfei hopped to his feet and gave the man a sincere bow anyway.
“Elder Ji, I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much trouble.”
The short man rested a hand kindly on the disciple’s shoulder and spoke warmly. “You did splendidly, up until that bit with Chen Weidao.”
Chen Ji disappeared into the light of the cave entrance and Pengfei rejoined Elder Rulan.
“Speaking of that, have you been reflecting on your bout with Jin Neng?”
“Yes sir. Maybe too much.” Pengfei stated with a morose half-smile. He’d relived the match a thousand times in the months and weeks since, while his body slowly healed. The shame at the loss had been compounded by his inability to practice. He nearly went mad at the thought of the widening gap in skill between himself and Neng. And the obstruction that blocked his path of advancement.
That obstruction weighed on him now. He had to know. Rulan had alluded to something in the sect’s clinic. A way forward. But no mention of it since then. So, Pengfei went fishing.
“Elder, how can a fist-fighter ever hope to counter the sword?”
Rulan stroked his black and grey beard pensively for a moment, the very image of a contemplative Taoist priest.
“There are a couple possibilities. One way would be waigong. External training methods, body cultivation. At the highest levels, a person can become impervious to blades. But reaching those heights is very uncommon. Even at Shaolin, famous for the ‘Golden Bell Shield’, most of their monks choose a different path. Do you know what it is?”
“No.”
“Weapons. Weapons to counter weapons. The adepts there take vows against killing, so they wield staffs instead of swords. But most of them do not go unarmed into battle against blades.”
“I don’t understand…” Pengfei’s voice lowered in disappointment. “Do you mean I should keep using the jian? Didn’t you say it would hold back my progress with the empty-hand?”
“Maybe there is another option. The jian is almost antithetical to the fist, at least in the early stages. Different stances, different ranges. So, training the ‘Arhat Fist’ does little to prepare you for wielding a sword. Six hours spent practicing one art is six hours wasted for the other.”
Chen Rulan leaned over from where he sat, grabbed one of the bags he had carried down to the cell and tugged at the drawstring.
“But what if there was something more similar to the empty-hand? Perhaps then, training with the fist would actually benefit the weapon and vice-versa. You could follow the path you’ve chosen and still stand a chance of surviving when blades are drawn.”
Pengfei looked between the elder and the sack at the man’s side with increasing surprise and excitement. “Sir…is there such a weapon?”
“I’m not sure myself.” Chen Rulan spoke frankly and reached into the bag. “But maybe these are worth a try?”
He extracted a pair of leather sheaths that contained two short swords and handed the weapons to Pengfei. The boy slid one of the swords free and inspected the blade. It was about the length of his forearm, measured from elbow to wrist. A wide distance from the edge to the spine.
It could be considered a distant cousin to a meat cleaver, but Pengfei instantly found them more elegant than some crude kitchen tool. The curve of the blade near the tip, the knuckle guard and the prong that ran up the back of the blade. It all looked very ‘martial’.
“These… these are for me?” Pengfei asked, unsheathing the other blade and holding up the pair. The elder just nodded.
A memory came to mind, of a box in the back of a yak cart. “I’ve seen these swords before. You bought these in Hotan, on our first trip there. That was before I even began to learn the ‘Arhat Fist’. How did you know I would need these?”
“You were already neglecting the jian in favor of the ‘Heaven Shaking Fist.’ I came to a similar crossroads when I was about your age. I took a different path. I wasn’t sure which direction you’d go… but I had a feeling. I had these made just in case.”
“What kind of swords are these? What are they called?”
“I’m not sure you could even call them swords. Knives maybe. I met a southerner who used a pair like these when I was young, before Kunlun closed its gates. His technique made an impression, but I never caught the name of the weapon. You can call them whatever you want.”
Pengfei smiled. “Whatever they are, I’m excited to learn how to use them.”
“I’m glad you like them. But I don’t want you to have any illusions. They’re not a battlefield weapon. And it won’t do much better in a duel. The range is poor and there won’t be much leverage on the cuts. The only advantage they will provide is the similarity to the fist.”
“Two blades means simultaneous attack and defense. More flexibility in footwork. Changing the lead side fluidly.” Pengfei observed, already seeing some overlap with the ‘Heaven Shaking Fist’ and Shaolin’s ‘Arhat Fist’.
“Good. You’ll need those kinds of insights. No one here uses a weapon like this, so you’ll have to figure it out for yourself. It’s a bit of a gamble. You’ll certainly fall behind in the short term. But if you can figure these out, your training will be much more efficient in the future.”
“If I can figure it out? That’s a bit intimidating.”
Rulan shrugged. “You may find a real teacher someday. But no one becomes a master by rote memorization. You’ll have to innovate eventually or be relegated to mediocrity. You’re just facing that problem a bit sooner than your peers.”
The elder stood and Pengfei joined him on his feet.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about, master.”
“Haha… I’m still not your master, boy.”
“It was worth a shot.”
The man walked to the ledge as the disciple bowed.
“Don’t neglect the rest of your training just because you have a couple new toys.”
“I won’t.”
The broad shoulders vanished into the sunlight. Pengfei turned back toward the darkness of the cave’s interior and gave swords a first exploratory spin. He immediately dropped the blades and they clattered on the stone beneath his feet, but he picked the weapons up and tried again.
Which image of future-Pengfei do you like the best?
