by Derek Dorris
Lin Fung shouted fiercely. “Get back, all of you!” From the other side, Han Liang and Priest Hou paid no attention. The scholar swooped in like bird of prey and landed on Li Jing's back as the latter was attempting to stop the blood flowing from Wu Chen's arm. Han Liang planted an elbow into the soft tissue of Li Jing's back causing him to roar in pain. Xun Da heard Priest Hou’s spade flying through the dark and, not missing an opportunity to sow dissent among his enemies, he moved Lin Niu into its path. It may have only grazed the side of her head but it was enough for Lin Fung to launch a series of darts towards the Taoist.
“Are you mad?” Priest Hou yelled as he evaded the darts by springing from the windowsill back out onto the roof.
“If you put my wife at risk one more time, I'll carve you to pieces priest!”
Priest Hou didn't hesitate and grabbed hold of some tiles and swung one armed into the window launching the tiles as he went. Xun Da flicked the wrist of his sword arm left and right, deflecting the tiles on one side and using Niu as a shield for his other. Mu was desperate now; he sprang off a nearby wall and propelled himself into the room describing a wide horizontal arc with his sword, its purpose to drive the Taoist backwards.
Wu Chen was going delirious from blood loss and Li Jing was writhing on the ground after receiving Han Liang’s elbow. Li Jing saw the iron tube they used to simulate Folding Wind’s breathing, grabbed it, and started swinging it to keep Han Liang at bay. The scholar easily avoided it and placed a piercing thumb on Li Jing’s solar plexus. At that moment, Wu Chen sprang to his feet and rushed wildly at Han Liang giving him the same trouble he gave Lin Niu. Li Jing had kept abreast of what was happening on the other side of the room. He saw that Lin Niu had been knocked unconscious from one of the flying roof tiles, and quickly shouted, “Lin Niu is dead, the priest killed her!”
Everyone stopped in shock. They had heard Lin Fung’s threat and were immediately concerned that the arrogant priest might've taken it as a challenge. It was enough to give Li Jing the opportunity to strike the room’s right central pillar with the iron tube. Xun Da read his intention and drove his left foot through the left pillar. He threw the unconscious Lin Niu at Priest Hou who received her as an awkward ball of flesh and bone. Lin Fung saw his sickly looking hands all over his wife and not knowing if she was being attacked or mauled by this disgusting priest, he lunged at him just as the roof came crashing in.
Li Jing and Xun Da had anticipated this to the second. They grabbed Wu Chen and flew through the window. As they landed in the street, dust and gravel flew, through which, they finally saw the Qui soldiers.
Sing Yi was at a loss. He saw the first floor of the inn collapse in on itself and three enemies escape. He wondered what the rest of his comrades were still doing in there. He strode forward and flung Li Jing and Wu Chen aside and engaged Xun Da in a ferocious trade of punches, kicks, knees, and elbows.
The soldiers pounced on the winded pair of martial brothers, leaving Xun Da to handle Sing Yi alone. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem for Xun Da; only the remainder of the enemy were starting to spill out from the rubble of the first floor.
Lin Fung had realised his wife was still alive by now and had her in his arms. Priest Hou had suffered most under the crashing roof. His head was bleeding profusely and he was coughing up a lung full of dirt that he swallowed when he landed awkwardly. Mu looked at him with piercing eyes. “We’ll settle this later. For now, let's do what we came here to do.” The two nodded and converged on Xun Da. Han Liang joined them and soon enough, Xun Da was surrounded.
By now, dawn was breaking and though Xun Da had resigned himself to eventual defeat he kept turning, twisting, thrusting, and rotating in a blur of feet and hands. Li Jing could see from his restrained position that they were beaten and called for Xun Da to give up only to be knocked unconscious as he spoke.
Xun Da dropped to his knees in utter exhaustion and saw Priest Hou draw his spade. The Taoist wanted to take credit for the ultimate dispatching of this Wulin hero. However, just as the weapon was about to make impact, an unmerciful screech pierced their eardrums and the spade flew straight out of his hand, clear across the street. Priest Hou’s arm hung limp from the vibration.
Han Liang didn't hesitate and lunged straight for the vulnerable Xun Da. But before he could take a second step, he felt an impact on his left side. He had seen nothing coming yet felt like he had been hit by a galloping horse. He body creased against a wall that—only moments ago—was up to seven or eight meters away. It all happened so quickly that by the time he turned around to see what had hit him, Sing Yi and the Lin couple were also on the ground while Priest Hou was flying backwards into the ground floor of the collapsed inn he had just rolled out of.
Han Liang squinted to focus his vision. There, standing in the centre of the street, was a young man about twenty years old. Tall and good looking but with unkempt hair tied back in an improvised ponytail and dressed in an off-white gown, he was noticeable and unnoticeable all at once. But when one looked closely at him, an air of serene concentration could be detected about him, chiefly from within his wide eyes.
After surveying the street, the young man looked down at Xun Da and smiled warmly. “Senior Brother, I've thought of you every day.”
Xun Da glanced up and squinted in an attempt to identify this awesome looking hero. A faint glimmer of recognition caught light and with a stunned realisation, he struggled to a standing position, “Feng’er? Feng’er! It's you!”
The two men embraced like long lost friends which was unusual in that their only ever meeting lasted little more than half a day. But in those few hours, they had been inextricably bound to one another, their destinies entwined forever and mutually informing. As if they had forgotten that they were surrounded by lethal enemies, the two friends laughed loudly repeatedly embracing one another only to laugh again.
After a short while, Li Jing regained consciousness and his eyes found the two men. He recognised his old travelling companion immediately, “Feng'er,” he coughed. “It's actually you!”
Bai Feng had been wandering the Jianghu for only a few weeks now. After spending ten years at Earthly Mountain soaking up their immense wisdom and training, his three elder masters felt it was time to let the world be his teacher. The Eight Guardians had grown used to his depth of understanding but even they were stunned to see him come this far so early. Moving out from the confines of that mountain was the final phase in the learning of a martial master and the five previous martial grandmasters of the Earthly Dragon Sect hadn't taken this step until they were at least in their fifties.
When he heard Li Jing's voice, Bai Feng looked over his shoulder and saw his two former companions face down in the dust. Before his elation took off, he noticed Wu Chen's arm. Moving like an eagle, he extended his two arms against the guards who were restraining his friends. The guards flew leaving their spears standing exactly upright. Before gravity could bring the spears down, Bai Feng simultaneously fired a low right kick and left palm strike so that both of the spears were projected horizontally taking two to three guards with them. In the space of two minutes, Bai Feng had taken down five experts and eight soldiers.
The rest of the soldiers were about to scatter without warning when they heard a deep bone shaking laugh. The sound of something landing behind them prompted Bai Feng and Xun Da to turn around. Before them stood a giant Yarlese warrior with fierce eyes and terrifying smile. Wangchuk Drup was here.
* * *
After being dispatched by Priest Hou, the Qui messenger had bumped into the very spy who delivered the news to the Taoist in the first place. The latter was washing his clothes by a pond when he heard the messenger coming but, recognising the seal on the scroll the messenger was carrying, the spy relaxed his guard and struck up a conversation with his fellow operative. It wasn't long before the messenger realised the sickly looking priest had given him a false message to bring back to his general. He ran even faster and delivered the real mes
sage to Wangchuk Drup in less than six hours.
Naturally, Wangchuk Drup didn't want to miss out on this chance to confront the 100 Fists Majestic Wanderer. He knew the rest of his men could take care of Xun Da but he wanted Wong Shi Hong for himself. He was far from guaranteed a victory but staking his life on confrontations such as this was the purpose of his existence. Wangchuk Drup's only concern was Priest Hou’s motives. Could he be stupid enough to think he and the rest of his rabble could challenge the 100 Fists Wanderer? Even all at once, they'd be pulverised. But what else could it be? There's no profit in turning to the other side so that's out.
The Yarlese was shrewd and deeply intelligent so there wasn't much he couldn't figure out but, like most people, his greatest weakness was his greatest blindspot. When he forced Priest Hou to join his little war party, he dented the old Taoist’s ego and made him feel weak. Hou couldn't do anything to prove otherwise so he engaged in petty dissensions and self-delusional ego boosting. Like manipulating the Yarlese disciples into situations whereby they might embarrass Wangchuk Drup; or convincing himself that he could beat the great Wong Shi Hong.
Wangchuk Drup’s eagerness to match stances with the Wanderer plus his uncertainty regarding the Taoist forced him to move without ample preparation so he took only a handful of men along with him. He would rely on the men he had previously stationed in Gongsum under Sing Yi’s command.
By the time he got there, it was first light and the city was still quiet. However, he could hear the sounds of combat from inside the gates. His mouth watered. The post guards had long since fled so he and his small party rode straight into town unencumbered. Jumping silently from his horse to a nearby building, he bounced to the top like a mountain goat.
What he saw from this vantage point left him thoroughly confused. Two of his disciples lay prone on the ground among the rubble of an inn while Xun Da was incapacitated through exhaustion. His mercenaries were in trouble but it wasn't at the hands of Wong Shi Hong but those of a young man who couldn't have been any younger without being a child. As he took a closer look at this man-child, he thought he recognised something familiar in his face but still couldn't place him. It was only when Xun Da shouted the name “Feng'er”, that it hit him like a thunderbolt. This is the child I carried to the Third Gorge at Earthly Mountain! But that was only ten years ago and he knew absolutely no kung fu back then. How could he have become this good in only ten years?
In his heart, he couldn't help admire the Earthly Dragon Sect. He had desperately wanted to learn their secrets but instead suffered the humiliation of being refused while they accepted that brat without a second look. He hated the sect for their dismissive attitude towards him, for beating him so soundly, and now he despised this kid for getting everything that he had wanted. He couldn't stop to appreciate that the Divine Alchemist was far more powerful than the Artless Monk and that his learning at the feet of his current master was likely to have been even more profound than what the Earthly Dragon imparted to Bai Feng.
The reason he couldn't appreciate this was two-fold. Firstly, the Earthly Dragon was regarded as the Mount Tai of the martial world and for the Yarlese, reputation was everything. Secondly, even though Wangchuk Drup was now profoundly stronger than he was ten years ago, the gap in ability between then and now was clearly smaller for him than it was for Bai Feng. If the Earthly Dragon weren't responsible for that development, then it meant Bai Feng had more natural qualities than he himself had. That was something he wasn't willing to accept. It was easier to compare his own master’s tutelage unfavourably with Earthly Mountain’s.
Perched atop of the roof, Wangchuk Drup had a sudden realisation. If this kid could progress this far in ten years, what could he achieve in another ten, twenty, or thirty years? He would undeniably be the greatest expert in the entire world. He would be uncontrollable. The Yarlese smiled and made a decision to remove this thorn while it was still within his means to do so. He laughed loudly and descended from the rooftop. “Well, well, young Hero Bai. It’s interesting to see you after all these years.”
Bai Feng immediately recognised him from the episode at the Third Gorge. “It’s him,” he muttered, turning to keep himself square with the giant frame of his old adversary.
Wangchuk Drup stopped just out of kicking distance. “I'm in awe of your progress young hero. I wonder if we could match palms.”
Having little interest in verbal sparring, Bai Feng flew at him without hesitation, turning slightly to advance on the big man’s left flank launching a right punch that drove over the Yarlese’s upper left arm in a sawing motion. Wangchuk Drup felt the strike driving him backward so sank back in his stance and used his left arm to place a reverse grab on Bai Feng's right arm. Bai Feng felt the iron-like clamping action on his right arm and so he circled his right hand anti-clockwise to break from the grab. To the astonishment of the onlookers, the Yarlese’s arm twisted with this movement so that his left hand didn't have to release the grab. Any other opponent would have been stumped by this extraordinary skill but Bai Feng didn't notice it on any appreciable level. He was aware it happened but in a manner where it and everything else that was happening were being perceived as one fluid event. He merely let his body adapt to it by putting his second hand to the Yarlese’s twisted arm and, using the tension in it, he quickly rotated his right wrist clockwise turning his right hand into a frontal palm and funnelled the Yarlese’s tension into his now corkscrewing palm. It broke free of Wangchuk Drup’s grab and sent a powerful strike to the Yarlese’s chin.
The crowd gasped as they saw this counter but the Yarlese was delighted. He tilted his right shoulder slightly downwards and flipped the inside of his left palm against the inside of Bai Feng's striking arm. He returned that block as a palm strike of his own along with a low-lying inverted palm. Bai Feng only realised he was struck when his arm failed to respond to his next intention.
Looking down, he saw a thin string of blood making its way from his mouth to the ground. As it coiled into the street dirt, he moved in the same direction, falling onto his knees. At times like this, when a strong expert realises his opponent is well beyond him, there's a strong chance of mentally crumbling. But Bai Feng didn't even consider he had been beaten. For him, this was purely a matter of art. He and Wangchuk Drup were creating something never seen before and it didn't matter what brush strokes he was responsible for. As he went over the fight for the first time, he was overcome with admiration for the skill the Yarlese demonstrated.
In fact, it wasn't until he saw the gleam of murder in his opponent's eyes that he realised he was in mortal danger. His mind snapped out of his reverie and he heard Xun Da shouting. At this point, Han Liang and Sing Yi were on their feet, surrounding Xun Da once more.
“Mr Han, dispatch him,” Wangchuk Drup ordered, referring to Xun Da. He walked forward and stooped to place his large hand on the back of Bai Feng's head. His intention was clear. He was going to murder Bai Feng.
* * *
In the world of Wulin, the Ten Greats are talked about often but few people ever really get to see them. If they did, they would perceive something uncommon about them by their presence alone and by their voice in particular. Wangchuk Drup’s powerful voice had already rattled the ears of most that were present but nobody was ready for what they heard next.
From what sounded like a deep echo from a bottomless cave, came a withering laugh that curled the toes of everyone present from the lowest Qui soldier to Wangchuk Drup himself. The entire group turned en masse to see a broad-chested old man, dressed in a hooded black cloak, sitting on the steps to a closed restaurant. “Nowhere open this early but, as always, I come prepared.” The voice rolled through the street straight for where the crowd stood. The man took out a brown flask and drained its contents then wiped his mouth with his sleeve and spoke, “The Yarlese Wangchuk Drup has made quite a name for himself of late. Why does he concern himself with matters of the Jianghu?”
Every member of Wangchuk Drup’s comp
any knew exactly who this person was despite never having seen him before. Everything they had ever heard about the Ten Greats appeared to crystallise in this ancient man’s appearance.
For Wangchuk Drup, the impact was no less significant. The Yarlese had come here with the express purpose of comparing himself with him, convinced that the time was right. After all, he had defeated the Blue Lady in a ferocious battle and even insulted her by taking her gown as a trophy. Surely, he could fight toe to toe with anyone. Yet now, standing at the opposite end of the street to this person, he knew in his bones he had grossly miscalculated. The old man was the 100 Fists Majestic Wanderer.
The received wisdom was there was only a hair’s breadth of difference between the Ten Greats. Wong Shi Hong had even let Xun Da think as much for all these years but, with one look, Wangchuk Drup knew this person’ skill was gargantuan. Standing there in his presence, he felt neither the Blue Lady nor even his own master, the Divine Alchemist, could compare to him. Involuntarily, he took a step back and found himself cupping his fist in greeting. “My respects, Senior Wong; I hope these are not friends of yours.”
Wangchuk Drup’s words were partly genuine and partly calculated. He was experiencing genuine trepidation out of respect for Wong Shi Hong's presence but he was also attempting to lure him into the net which he had prepared in anticipation of this very wrinkle.