by Jeremy Bai
However, Sun Mai and Sunan both agreed to immediately end any trafficking in addictive herbal powders and liquids. Other arrangements of the less-than-moral type were also eradicated. The only disagreement they had was when it came to the brothels. Sunan wanted them banned completely, whereas Sun Mai said that to do such a thing would earn too much ill will from the people, especially from the soldiers. In the end, Sunan begrudgingly agreed to let the brothels stay.
Another area in which they disagreed was regarding the local sheriff and constables. Sunan wanted to end the “gift” payments that Iron Awl Hu had been sending them on a regular basis, which were really just bribes. Sun Mai was of the opinion that controlling the policing of the city was a good thing. Sunan wouldn’t budge, though, and thus, the local constable force finally became an autonomous force after years of what had essentially been servitude.
They burned the former workshop of Ritual Master Zhen, leaving the shell of the room empty for the time being.
The Golden Immortal disappeared the same night Iron Awl Hu was killed. Sunan and Sun Mai investigated the matter but turned up few clues.
The forces of the Demon Emperor also disappeared. However, theirs was apparently less of a vanishing act and more of a calculated retreat. A message was left behind for Sunan, written in elegant calligraphy.
To Your Excellency Sunan, sect leader of the Golden Dragons:
The news of the death of Master Hu is unfortunate but not entirely unexpected. Things such as this are known to happen to men in such lines of work. Sadly, many plans have now gone awry because of the sudden change. As such, we will be leaving Daolu for the time being. When we return, I hope that you will be as willing to work with us as the late Master Hu.
Regards,
Huang Dayang
Third Lieutenant to the Love General
“Love General?” Sunan asked Sun Mai.
“The Demon Emperor has five ogre generals. The Hate General, the Bone General, the Fire General, the Love General, and the Skin General. They’re quite mysterious, really, some more than others. For example, the Bone General is very famous. People say that he is the hammer the Demon Emperor uses to crush any and all plots against him.
“The Fire General is the spear which slashes across the battlefield. He trains the troops in the ways of killing. Supposedly the Love General is the dove of peace which the Demon Emperor sends to allies.
“As far as the Skin General and the Hate General…” He shrugged. “I haven’t heard any rumors about them at all.”
Sunan looked down at the message. “The dove of peace to send to allies, huh?” He frowned. “I’d rather drink a cup of nails than be an ally of the Demon Emperor. What do you think we should do?”
Sun Mai took a deep breath but didn’t say anything for a long moment. “The Demon Emperor has long since allowed this part of Qi Xien to rule itself. Perhaps an alliance would be nothing more than a formality.”
“Perhaps.”
“But…”
“But what?”
“It probably wouldn’t hurt to prepare to defend ourselves…”
Sunan nodded.
Daolu had a sheriff and the city constables but no standing army. Neither did its sister city of Nansun, the other major city in the Hen-Shi Empire. It was commonly held that the lack of said army was one reason the Demon Emperor had mostly ignored this part of Qi Xien for so many decades.
After some debate, Sunan agreed that they needed to start training fighters, although they would do it mostly in secret to avoid attracting unwanted attention from the Demon Emperor. It was with that goal in mind that Sunan agreed to allow the underground platform fights to continue, although he did away with the practice of fixing the fights, standardizing the rules to make the fights safer. He also increased the prizes, which made the contests even more popular than they had been before.
It also enabled him and Sun Mai to begin to identify the talented fighters in Daolu.
They also spent time with the soldiers who were already part of Iron Awl Hu’s organization, identifying the good men among the bad, both in terms of fighting ability as well as moral character.
Months passed.
As they had planned to do some time before, they began to identify and codify the moves and stances that they used in their fighting and practicing. The process took a full month, but in the end, they perfected twenty-seven stances, which they linked together into one form that could be practiced within a few minutes. After they were both satisfied with the results, Sun Mai created an illustrated version on a bamboo scroll, complete with detailed text descriptions.
“What about your Rebuke of the Dragon?” he asked of Sunan.
Sunan thought about the question for a moment. “That will come later. I’ll wait until I find someone worthy of being able to unleash power like that.”
Sun Mai nodded. After having put the final touches into the contents of Sunan’s fighting methods, he rolled the bamboo scroll up and said, “So, what do we call it?”
“Come on, Sun Mai, you’re the scholar.”
“Right.” Sun Mai thought for a moment and then wrote some characters on the cover of the bamboo scroll, then handed it over to Sunan.
“What’s this first character?” he asked.
“That’s Classical Fei, of course. An archaic character that means ‘martial’ or ‘war.’ It’s pronounced Wu.”
With that, Sunan read the title: “Wu-Sunan, the Ultimate Fighting System.” He looked at Sun Mai. “Sounds a little pretentious.”
“People will love it, trust me.”
They eventually picked a group of ten men—five from Iron Awl Hu’s organization and five from the platform competition, and they began to train them in the ways of the newly dubbed Wu-Sunan fighting system.
***
Deep in the Banyan Mountains was a legendary location that most people had only heard of in whispered stories.
Yao Gong Palace.
The headquarters of the Demon Emperor.
In a tall tower in Yao Gong Palace, overlooking a sprawling ceremonial square, was a room filled with books and scrolls. Seated behind a desk in that room was an ogre dressed in red and pink robes. Even someone who had never seen an ogre before would likely be able to discern that this ogre was a female.
She sat there, leafing through a stack of reports.
Her eyes went wide as she read the contents of one particular report from the north.
“Iron Awl Hu is dead? The Golden Dragon Sect? Hmm…”
With that, she rang a bell. A moment later, a servant appeared in the doorway.
“I need to speak with His Excellency the emperor,” she said, a slight frown on her face.
Chapter 23: We’ve Got Company
Over the months, Sunan’s students made excellent progress in Wu-Sunan. Three of them experienced at least one breakthrough.
Despite their sudden access to a level of wealth that would formerly have been incomprehensible, Sunan and Sun Mai continued to live much the same as they had before, except that they now resided in the former mansion of Iron Awl Hu.
They even continued to frequent the Heavenly Meat Palace.
Of course, Sunan was quite famous in Daolu now, therefore his patronage of the Heavenly Meat Palace made its popularity grow tenfold. Mysteriously, the quality of the meat seemed to increase, and the wine became more potent. They even began to season the meat before serving it. The entire establishment even closed for an entire month for renovations.
When it reopened, it was twice as large and ten times as luxurious.
However, the premise remained the same: unending piles of meat for a cheap price.
The restaurant created a private room for use by the Golden Dragon Sect, although most of the time, Sunan and Sun Mai preferred to eat in the common room.
On one particular evening, they were there in their usual spot, consuming massive quantities of meat with their disciples, when Sun Mai began to expound on his philosophies. The
discussion quickly turned lively. Although the disciples respected Sun Mai, none of them took him very seriously when it came to philosophy. Truth be told, neither did Sunan.
On this particular night, Sun Mai was ranting about the Perfect Realm, which was supposedly a higher level of existence, a heaven to which many people hoped to reach by means of enlightenment over the course of many lives. Belief in the Perfect Realm had existed in the culture of Qi Xien for countless years, even before the arrival of the Demon Emperor. However, after his invasion, it became the subject of much discussion among philosophers and religious figures.
At one point, when Sun Mai took a short break to wolf down some “lamb” skewers, a young man appeared next to their table. Clasping his hands, he bowed to Sun Mai and said, “Greetings, Senior. I am a humble student of Dehua, and I have a few questions I wish to ask. You are the Heavenly Scholar everyone is talking about, correct?”
Sunan rolled his eyes. People had indeed taken to calling Sun Mai the “Heavenly Scholar” in recent days. Although he hadn’t completed his “classic scripture,” people had begun to repeat some of the things he said most commonly. For example, “Seek the truth and pursue the actual” was already a common saying in Daolu.
“Why, yes, there are some who have called me the Heavenly Scholar. However, to a true scholar, humility is the greatest virtue. Please, just call me Sun Mai. You are…?”
The young man bowed again. “Just call me Little Mao.”
“Little Mao. Very well. So, you are a student of Dehua?”
“Yes, Master Sun.”
“I see. And what are these questions of which you speak?”
Little Mao hesitated for a moment, giving Sunan a moment to study him more closely. He wore simple robes and had his hair bound at the top of his head in the common fashion. He was slender, with a face that was less handsome and more… beautiful. He had delicate, pursed lips and piercing eyes that seemed to radiate thoughtfulness.
Finally, Little Mao spoke. “I’m wondering about the Perfect Realm. You were just speaking about it, and you said… it’s not real. But… how could you claim to be a follower of Dehua if you don’t believe in the Perfect Realm?”
“My young friend, before answering your question, I must first ask you a question. How closely were you listening to my speech just now?”
Little Mao’s brow furrowed slightly. “Quite closely, actually.”
“I see. Then please explain which part of my speech indicated that I don’t believe in the Perfect Realm.”
Little Mao shrugged. “The entire speech, really. At one point you said, and I quote, ‘Kong Zhi’s belief that the Perfect Realm is real couldn’t be further from the truth.’ If you believe Kong Zhi is wrong, that means you believe the Perfect Realm is not real. Therefore, you don’t believe in it.”
Sun Mai chuckled. “My young friend, are you familiar with the Harqa people?”
“Of course. Nomads who live in the Kushen Basin. They’re the greatest horsemen in the world, and their horses are the finest to gallop under the skies of Qi Xien.”
“Do you know what is the most important celebration among the Harqa?”
“Of course. In their language, it’s called Chul’kashar, which means ‘Birth of the Great Horse.’ They believe that the world was created not by Xian Nu Shen but by the Great Horse, who was born on the winter solstice. They commemorate his birth by racing horses all day, drinking all night, and exchanging hats woven from grass.”
“Let me ask you, Little Mao, do you think the world was created by the Great Horse or by the Enlightened Goddess, Xian Nu Shen?”
“By Xian Nu Shen, of course.”
“Suppose you were traveling in the Kushen Basin during the winter solstice and happened to be there during Chul’kashar. Would you participate in the festival? Would you watch the horse races? Would you drink with the Harqa people? Would you wear a grass hat?”
Little Mao shrugged. “I suppose so. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t you? And yet, do you believe that participating in that festival would please the Great Horse?”
“Of course not!”
“So you don’t believe in their festival, correct?”
“I suppose I don’t.”
“And yet their festival exists, does it not? It is real, is it not?”
Little Mao frowned but didn’t respond.
Sun Mai chuckled again. “Do you see my point?”
“I don’t believe in their festival, and yet it exists. It is real. The festival is real, but I don’t believe in it.”
“Exactly. You do not believe in something that is, in fact, real. The Harqa people, on the other hand, do believe in the festival, and the festival is just as real. Belief in something has nothing to do with whether or not it is real.”
Little Mao’s expression flickered. “Therefore, a statement about something being real or not real cannot be used to extrapolate whether or not you believe in it.”
Sun Mai slapped the table. “Exactly!” He turned to Sunan and said, “Isn’t that right, Brother Sunan?”
Sunan’s eyes had glazed over a bit, as he had virtually no idea what was being discussed. “Of course,” he said, quickly laying into a slab of meat to avoid having to say anything further.
“Following this line of reasoning,” Little Mao went on, “it would be possible to say that you think the Perfect Realm is not real, and yet you believe in it. But why would you believe in something that isn’t real?”
“Because,” Sun Mai replied, tapping his temple, “it’s here.”
“In your mind?”
“Yes, according to Kong Zhi, the Perfect Realm is another world beyond our own, a perfect world that we imperfect humans should emulate. But does that really sound plausible to you? Do you really think that there could be some other magical world that has always existed, and yet throughout the thousands of years of recorded history of Qi Xien, we don’t have a single scrap of evidence of anyone visiting that world or anyone from that world visiting ours?”
At this point, Sunan couldn’t help but interrupt. “Little Mao, please join us. Sit here next to Sun Mai and discuss your ideas… somewhat more privately. What do you say?”
Little Mao clasped his hands respectfully, and soon he and Sun Mai were engaged in an animated discussion, leaving Sunan free to interact with his disciples.
From that day on, Sun Mai took Little Mao under his wing. Although Little Mao didn’t agree with everything Sun Mai said, the fact that there was now someone who seemed to understand Sun Mai’s way of thinking completely changed him. With Little Mao’s encouragement and help, Sun Mai even began compiling and organizing his notes, and he declared that he would soon begin work on his classic scripture. He also began to personally instruct Little Mao regarding qi manipulation and Wu-Sunan.
More months passed, during which time Sunan grew increasingly bored, until finally a momentous event occurred. During the eighth lunar month, the Phoenix month, on the first day of the first cycle, a star fell from the sky.
Sunan didn’t witness the matter. He was in the courtyard sparring with one of his most talented disciples, Yuwen Huo, when Sun Mai rushed in.
“Sunan, I was just talking with the moon, and you wouldn’t believe what I saw. A falling star!”
Sunan continued to exchange fluid punches and kicks with Yuwen Huo. “So? Shooting stars aren’t that rare.”
“Not a shooting star. A falling star, pure silver! I actually saw it fall from the sky down to the earth. It landed somewhere to the south.”
Sunan’s ears perked up, and he stopped sparring to look over at Sun Mai. Yuwen Huo also looked over.
“What do you think it means?” Sunan asked.
“I don’t know. I think we should go consult our astrologer.”
And that is how they found themselves leaving Daolu the following day on horseback.
According to their astrologer, a silver star falling to the earth on the first day of the fir
st cycle of the eighth lunar month, which was the Phoenix Moon, was a rare sign. He told them that if they could find where exactly that star fell, it would surely lead them to incredible good fortune.
Frankly, Sunan was somewhat skeptical of matters pertaining to astrology, but Sun Mai was enthusiastic about the matter, and Sunan had been getting bored anyway. A jaunt out of the city to search for a fallen star seemed like just the break from monotony that he had been hoping for.
They left the Golden Dragon Sect in the hands of Tie Gangwen and Yuwen Huo and took a group consisting of three disciples and seven soldiers on what would surely be a journey of less than a week total.
They rode south out of Daolu’s Zhen Gate, then crossed the bridge over the Chezou River before heading in the general direction of the fallen star’s supposed final resting place, as calculated by the astrologer, based on information from Sun Mai and several other eyewitnesses.
The terrain was mostly flat plains, but the farther west they got, the more hills and trees appeared, until they were clearly in mountainous foothills. As for the trees, one of the disciples, a new recruit named Sima Zikang, who had been born and raised in the area, mentioned that they were in the northern part of the Little Demon Forest.
On morning of the fourth day, they found themselves at the top of a hill that sloped downward so steeply that it might almost count as a cliff. Only someone in the most desperate of circumstances would even consider riding a horse down such a hill.
Down below was a ravine-like valley that stretched roughly east and west. Not too long ago, the valley had clearly been filled with lush vegetation, but this was no longer true. Almost the entire valley was nothing more than ash, including a long furrowed ditch that ran down the very center of the valley, ending in front of a crater, which they were perched almost directly above.
“That must be it!” Sun Mai said excitedly.
Sunan nodded, and he was just about to start riding to the east, toward an area a few kilometers away where the steep angle of the hill turned into more of a slope, making it possible to enter the valley, when a flicker of motion caught his attention. He looked up to see a group of people emerging from the trees on the other side of the valley. After spotting the crater, they began pointing excitedly, and in fact, their loud exclamations were just barely audible from across the valley.