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Part 14

  The news of a hearing to allow a servant to become a senior disciple filled the training halls with much curiosity and excitement. When Lingmon heard of it, he felt only resentment because he was still a junior disciple, wearing the black jacket – how could a lowly servant be allowed to join the senior ranks whereas he – having spent nearly a decade in the junior yards – was not!

  He went in search of Junho to express his displeasure. Junho’s reply was to laugh, and say, “Is this because Wai Sihfu said you’re too stupid to ever wear the grey jacket? Honestly, Lingmon! Why don’t you just leave Shaolin. It seems to me you’re too stupid to ever benefit from the teachings.”

  Finding his case falling on deaf ears, Lingmon then turned to his classmates to rally up a gang of the most vicious, prejudiced and culpable boys for a protest march. He was the eldest junior disciple, and most of them looked up to him.

  ~~~

  Keihan folded up a towel so he could grasp the handles of the big pot of boiling water for mopping down the kitchen floor. A prickling down his spine made him lose his grip on one of the handles and the pot slipped. He leapt aside with a curse. The hot water doused the stove flames. Luckily, he was the only one in the kitchen. It was evening and he was the last one left to clear up. He turned and saw Cragon Monk peering through the window. He smiled and bowed politely. “What is it this time, master?”

  “Er, um – I have come to make sure you are aware that it will be six days to the hearing,” said Master Cragon.

  Keihan bowed again politely and thanked him for the concern. Then, after Cragon had departed, he filled another pot of water, and put it onto another stove to heat up while he cleared the mess of the first stove.

  ~~~

  Lingmon preached to his eager crowd of junior followers –

  “We must take up the sword and see that this servant falls back from his daring to leap over us! What will become of the world if all servants thought like him? If every servant thinks he should be allowed to leap over us and become a senior disciple? Where will that leave the better folk of the world? Then what hope is there for the world? Who is to separate the worthy from the unworthy if we let the lower classes take on airs, and think they can ask for privileges above their station. Give in to one; others will hold out their hand to demand greater liberty. Then they’ll all start thinking these privileges are heaven-granted rights. There must be a separation of people into their respective classes if the world is to be fair, and anyone transgressing these lawful boundaries must be punished as an example. Just because he is a servant of a nobleman’s son, doesn’t mean he should be allowed to lord it over us! His master may allow him airs, but let us use our strength in numbers to put him back in his place. Let’s choose a moment and make sure he will never again dream that he can leap over our heads –”

  ~~~

  Keihan paused in his work planting new shoots from pots into the soil of the vegetable garden. He laid aside the trowel and stood up, brushing the soil from his knees. He bowed politely towards Master Cragon, and said, “I assure you I am aware the hearing is in five days, master.”

  “Er, right,” said Cragon.

  “Will that be all?” said Keihan politely.

  “Actually, no.” Cragon continued to observe the youth and silence descended. He was determined to test the boy’s Qh’i thoroughly. It still appeared weak – but it was amazingly fluid? He saw how Keihan grew paler as the moments passed. Just then, Hinlin Monk came in to see how Keihan was getting on with the re-planting. He struck up conversation with Cragon Monk, and then noticing Keihan looked rather tired, he told him to go and rest – he had done enough for today. Keihan was glad to leave and recover from the onslaught of investigative Qh’i. Cragon would have followed him but Hinlin had a firm grasp on his sleeve. Hinlin did not leave the garden much – not counting the times he did so to take foodstuffs to the kitchens and to get all the little things he needed for his garden – and even though he loved his plants very much, he was glad of having a fellow monk to talk to for a change.

  ~~~

  Lingmon thought he ought to make another attempt to sway Junho to his cause. He tried to persuade him with the same arguments he had used with the junior disciples, oblivious to the look of annoyance on the grey disciple’s face as he tried to eat his meal. Eventually, Junho decided that since Lingmon wasn’t going to leave, he would; and so, he stood up, to take his half-eaten meal to the disposal table. Just then, Mao and Keihan entered the hall. Mao urged Keihan to take some food before taking some himself. Seeing this, Lingmon jumped up and went over to do the same, but the servant (who was more than happy to serve Keihan) frowned and refused to serve the junior disciple –

  Lingmon protested loudly on the state of the world that servants should be allowed to eat here, but that he was barred! A grey disciple who happened to arrive just then for his meal frowned at Lingmon (in his black jacket), and asked him what was he doing here; surely he should be in the junior dining hall? Lingmon then declared that he was going to eat here from now on –

  The grey disciple pointed out that he was not a grey disciple, to which Lingmon replied, “So? You have a servant eating here! If the food here is good enough for a servant then it is good enough for me!”

  Junho sighed, and approached Lingmon to tell him that enough was enough, and that he should leave.

  Lingmon replied by pointing at Keihan, and said, “What about him?”

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  Many grey disciples paused in their eating, and turned towards this troublesome junior. They knew about the possibility that Mao’s servant was to be made a senior disciple and it did not bother them in the least if he should dine here before the hearing, however; this junior kicking up a ruckus was something else …

  Lingmon saw that Junho was, not only refusing to take up his cause, but was actually turning against him and treating him like an enemy? “What is it? Junho? Is it because that conniving little toad has something on you? Are you scared because he threatened to snitch on you to Master Greson? Hah! I never figured you for chicken shit!”

  “Watch your tongue, Lingmon,” said Junho in a low voice. His patience was starting to wear thin.

  “Hah! You just won’t admit I’m right!” Lingmon declared. “No servant should ever be allowed to think he could elevate himself above his station. Worms should never be allowed to imagine themselves dragons! Servants should not imagine above themselves, that they could become senior Shaolin disciples!”

  “I’m really tired of this argument, Lingmon,” said Junho. “Please leave before I give you proper cause for complaint.”

  “Oh yeah! Well I’m not scared of you!”

  Just then, five grey disciples at the nearest table came to stand beside Junho.

  “Oh, I see what this is! Majority pissing on the minority is it? Fine I’m leaving, but this isn’t the end of it. If you know what is good for you, you’ll see the sense of my words!” And so, Lingmon was finally induced to leave the senior dining hall.

  Mao watched this whole exchange with some bemusement. Keihan was too busy shuddering at the thought of another Cragon inquisition to even notice. It was increasingly apparent to him that the little monk wasn’t going to rest until he had nothing but the truth in front of him.

  ~~~

  Keihan was worried and jumpy for the whole of the next day. He irritated Hinlin Monk with his shoddy weeding in the garden. Several times, he felt the hovering withdrawn presence of Cragon Monk, but mercifully there were no renewed Qh’i attacks. He stood meekly as Hinlin berated him in his gentle long-winded manner – that just because the young man was, doubtless, excited about his forthcoming hearing and his chance to elevate himself, it was no reason to become careless of the difference between weeds and seedlings! Hinlin sorted through the pile of discarded weeds for the bulbs and shoots that may have a chance of survival in new soil (expressing his sadness and disappointment every time he found one), and then, no longer trusting Keihan with the care of them, he told him to take his distraction elsewhere.

  In the kitchens, he irritated Greson Monk with his inability to finish one chore before starting another. When Greson asked him what his trouble was, he admitted to nervousness about the hearing. To this, Greson was sympathetic, and told him that he had at least one staunch supporter in the big blustery monk. But this did not make Keihan feel any better, and when the day’s work was said to be done, he made his way back to the senior residential courtyard – too distracted to think anything of the group of twenty or so junior disciples assembled in the middle of it. He saw Mao standing in the doorway of his room scowling at this unusual gathering of juniors –

  “There he is,” said Lingmon, when Keihan appeared. “There’s the servant who thinks that just because he lives here, he is worthy of being made a senior disciple!”

  “Give it a rest,” said Mao.

  “And you!” Lingmon said, pointing at Mao. “You dare to encourage it! What kind of example are you setting? You are supposed to enforce the boundaries of lawfulness! And you flaunt them! You think yourself above the law do you? Just because you are an aristocrat! Big deal! It’s us common people who make you what you are! You aren’t above us!”

  Mao stared at him confused, and astonished. What on earth was Lingmon’s complaint?

  Keihan paused at the doorway. And because Mao was blocking the entrance to his room, he turned and looked absent-mindedly at the group of black jackets. His thoughts were on what the hearing was going to be like. There was going to be no escaping the search for the truth about the full extent of his mastery. He broke into a cold sweat and in his weakness, fell against the wall. Mao asked him –

  “Are you alright? You look awfully glum. I hope it isn’t because of these little snots! They can’t do anything to you. And in a few days, you’ll be one of us.”

  “I wish I had your optimism,” said Keihan.

  “Well, what can go wrong? All the monks like you and I am starting to think even Junho likes you. And if he likes you – considering all that kismet and malarkey – then what is there that can’t be achieved? Who should think badly of you?”

  Just then, a stone fell at Mao’s feet.

  “Who threw that?” Mao yelled. It was impossible to tell which of the juniors had done it. He looked at the watching grey disciples dotted around the courtyard to see if any one of them might be able to give him the answer –

  “There’s no help for it but to have it out with Master Cragon, I suppose …” Keihan murmured to himself.

  “What was that, Kei?”

  Keihan lifted himself and looked at his friend with new light in his eyes, and a steely grin.

  “I said – I suppose there is nothing for it, but to have it out with Master Cragon, once and for all!”

  Lingmon heard these words, and felt fear. He raised his voice, “You! Don’t you think you can go snitching on me to the monks! I am not afraid of you!”

  Keihan didn’t even hear as he turned and went in the direction of the monks’ quarters. The juniors made to move after him, but Mao interposed –

  “Do you think you can take me on?” he said with a smile.

  Lingmon looked at his group of supporters, then he looked back at this one disciple and gave him a supercilious look. “Yes, me and my army.”

  “Shoo, little boys,” said Hing, as he came to stand beside Mao.

  Other grey disciples came to join them, chuckling. Lingmon’s little army wavered, and decided to scatter. The grey disciples’ amusement increased when Lingmon, finding himself deserted, shook his fist at them, and said, “So, the mighty pisses on the weak! You haven’t heard the last of me!” Then he made himself scarce.

  “What a riot!” Hing declared. “That Lingmon really is an idiot! The monks should run him out of Shaolin!”

  One of the grey disciples shook his head, and said, “They should. But it isn’t their way … Pity.” Then the grey disciple shrugged and went back to his room.

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