by Derek Dorris
Wong Shi Hong merely grunted before he glugged on a fresh flask. “Da’er,” he called Xun Da affectionately. “Come here, and bring those boys with you.” Wangchuk Drup knew Wong Shi Hong wasn't going to be easily fooled so he upped the ante.
“You know who I am senior Wong so it's only fair to say I'm not important. So please don't be too offended if I ask to match my meagre skills against yours.”
Nobody had laid a challenge at the Majestic Wanderer’s feet in decades. The old man smiled to reveal a gleaming set of white teeth that belied his ancient age. “Perhaps you want more than a one-on-one engagement; sixty-five experts against us three. It doesn't seem fair.” Not out of arrogance did he exclude Li Jing and Wu Chen in his counting but to emphasise to Wangchuk Drup that he was only including experts.
The Yarlese groaned inwardly but attempted to press forward with his ruse. Pointing to his mercenaries, he said, “I'm afraid, while my friends here are definitely worthy of the title ‘expert’, my soldiers are simple military men.”
The Majestic Wanderer had spotted immediately what nobody other than the Yarlese knew. That the Qui soldiers were all disguised martial experts. They weren't at the level of Priest Hou, Han Liang, and the others but they were definitely above average in their ability—more skilled than even Li Jing and Wu Chen who were no pushovers against the likes of common thugs.
Wangchuk Drup had sent them to Gongsum ostensibly under the command of Sing Yi but had secretly ordered them to hide their abilities. They were asked to walk heavy and mismanage their breathing and under no circumstances to use their kung fu. Xun Da or Bai Feng would normally recognise a warrior from their footsteps or posture. A top level master would spot it from their breathing. Against someone of Wong Shi Hong’s ability, disguising these things was pointless. He had counted the number of experts present before he even turned onto the street.
Realising his intentions were exposed, Wangchuk Drup raised his finger to give the prearranged command. The soldiers dropped their cumbersome armour and encircled the five.
“Da’er, protect these three,” Wong Shi Hong said calmly. The old man rose and walked without hesitation straight for Wangchuk Drup. Immediately, ten of the soldiers broke off and encircled the old man. From the outside the circle, the view of the 100 Fists Wanderer was briefly obscured but then, in an instant, the soldiers stopped moving—every one of them. And like statues they began to topple over, one after the other. Nobody could guess what had happened. Wangchuk Drup stood petrified. He felt like he himself had turned into a statue as Wong Shi Hong emerged calmly from the middle of the soldiers. A lesser man would've suspected witchcraft but the Yarlese knew better. He calmed himself and stood ready. He was covetous and cruel but he wasn't a coward. If this was his end, then let it be so.
Firstly, he signalled the rest of his experts to back off and then he moved like lightning enveloping Wong Shi Hong in high and low elbows, fists and palms. But the latter barely reacted. He would merely shift his weight, almost imperceptibly, to the left or to the right, always just managing to avoid contact with the giant Yarlese.
Inwardly, the Wanderer was deeply impressed with his opponent’s level of skill but there was also something very strange about it. To more fully investigate its mysterious origins, he decided to draw the conflict out by continuing to evade and observe.
Wangchuk Drup was growing exasperated. He couldn't even touch this person. He had beaten Bai Feng with relative ease and assumed he could at least contest the Wanderer. But the more he tried, the more enraged he became. Before long, he was funnelling more and more internal strength into his external kung fu in an attempt to smash through the Wanderer’s impeccable evasion. Yet even that didn't work! Wong Shi Hong simply moved with a casual grace and even started to smile.
Like his master, Wangchuk Drup would use any means to achieve victory so he pulled off his leather wrist straps to reveal some damp cotton straps underneath. He had laced these understraps with a virile poison of his master’s concoction which would paralyse any limbs they came in contact with. The Yarlese didn't see this as cheating. To him and Yu Guo Wei both, this was all part of personal combat. Do whatever it takes. However, to the heroes of Wulin, surreptitiously using poison against an opponent was disgusting.
But right now, the point remained an academic one. Wangchuk Drup couldn't even touch his opponent. In his frustration, he decided to hit himself instead.
Secreted under his gown, right over the solar plexus, was a pouch of powdered poison that would explode on impact engulfing both him and his opponent in a cloud of lethal gas. Of course, under the guidance of his master, he had spent the last ten years painstakingly developing an immunity to this poison by ingesting trace amounts at a time. Its original purpose was as a tool of reciprocal destruction. To be struck on solar plexus for anyone was bad but in Wangchuk Drup’s martial skill, it was his most vulnerable point. For him to be struck there meant certain defeat and so anyone good enough to beat the Yarlese in that manner would be killing his/herself too. For a man who took victory or defeat so personally, it gave him solace to know the person who vanquished him would not live to boast about it.
Of course, in extreme situations, as this one was turning out to be, his immunity to the poison ensured the pouch could also be used as a tool for exclusive victory no matter how deplorable true heroes would find it. All he had to do was activate it himself by pressing the pouch firmly enough to burst it but gently enough to avoid damaging his solar plexus. And so Wangchuk Drup roared manically and slapped his own chest.
With his extraordinary hearing, Wong Shi Hong heard the air escaping the pouch before it burst and so he held his breath in anticipation of what was about to occur. After teasing the Yarlese's skill out over a hundred stances, the Old Wanderer was reasonably certain who was behind his kung fu and so this type of underhanded trick wasn't a huge surprise to him. However, while holding his breath, the 100 Fists Wanderer had noticed the sound of projectiles being launched behind his back.
Henjin, Wangchuk Drup’s last remaining disciple, had crawled from under the rubble of the first floor of the inn and seeing his master in trouble, without thinking, he fired a series of darts toward the back of the Majestic Wanderer.
The old man channelled his vast internal strength and waved his hands behind his back to dissipate the velocity of the projectiles and then continued that same movement by angling his hands forward into a double palm strike. The purpose of this latter move wasn't to cause impact but rather to create a giant gush of air that would send the yellow cloud of poisoned powder along with its dissipater backwards in one swift movement.
The spectacle was befitting Wong Shi Hong’s title. The projectiles dropped behind him like they had hit an invisible shield while his opponent and the poisonous gas to the front of him were blown clear across the street like they had been picked up and thrown by a hurricane. The Yarlese hit the wall head first and landed in an unmoving sprawl.
Bai Feng had been sitting silently, circulating his energy in an attempt to undo the internal damage done by Wangchuk Drup’s strike. However, when he saw this last move, he screamed with joy. He was of course delighted that Xun Da's master had won but it was the beauty of the exchange and the way Wong Shi Hong turned it to his advantage that was so impressive.
The Majestic Wanderer stood across the street and slowly resumed his breathing. Glaring towards Wangchuk Drup who lay broken and barely aware, he said, “Out of respect to your master, I will let you go this one time. Leave immediately or I will slaughter you all.” These words were said with a finality that chilled the blood of everyone present. Even Xun Da and Bai Feng felt a shiver.
Priest Hou signalled to Sing Yi and the Lin couple, the female half of which was barely conscious, to leave. The ten “soldiers” who had earlier collapsed like statues were also now back on their feet, helped by their uninjured brothers in arms. Others ran to pick up their general and soon every one of the enemy had fled.
When the
heroes were finally alone, Xun Da ran to his master to pay his respects but before he got a chance, Wong Shi Hong sat down uneasily, crossed his legs and said, “Da’er, get a door or a table top. Use it to carry me to a secluded inn and then fetch me the following herbs.” He took out a piece of paper and pen and scrawled the ingredients he needed to prepare the antidote to the Divine Alchemist’s poison.
The Story of Gilded Divinity
From his master’s sudden change in complexion, Xun Da realised he had been pretending to be unaffected by Wangchuk Drup's poison. Thankfully, Wong Shi Hong’s body was hardy and resilient plus he could control his blood flow to send most of the poisoned blood to a single place on his body. Choosing the little finger on his left hand, the Majestic Wanderer held it up and pricked it with his right thumb nail. After a couple of minutes, dark almost black-coloured blood began to flow out of the wound and drip onto the ground.
By mid evening, Xun Da had hidden his master in a small inn on the other side of the city and put Bai Feng and Wu Chen up there too. Bai Feng was still weak from his injury but he would recover in a few hours. Wu Chen, on the other hand, had lost a lot of blood not to mention an entire arm. Li Jing was the least hurt so he sat up and tended to his friends night and day.
Once he had expelled the last traces of poison from his system, Wong Shi Hong received a full report from Xun Da on what happened over the last couple of days. “Extraordinary that Bai Feng should resurface now,” he said, sitting in his room, his customary flask of wine on his lap. “I didn't expect to see him for years.”
“He's far stronger than any of the mercenaries Wangchuk Drup is toting around. Frankly, I'm stunned by his progress. And now, it turns out, we totally overestimated that Yarlese's ability. When I heard he'd defeated the Blue Lady, I assumed he'd be a match for you too. But given how easily you beat him, his recruitment by Rui‘In isn't nearly as significant as we feared.”
“Don't underestimate that bastard. I wouldn't have hesitated to kill him there and then if I hadn't been so severely compromised by his poison. It was all I could do to pretend to let him and his rabble go before they realised I was there for the taking.”
That reminded Xun Da. “Shifu, what did you mean by ‘out of respect to your master’?”
Wong Shi Hong exhaled. “That's precisely what has me concerned. He has been taken in by the Divine Alchemist, Yu Guo Wei.”
“What? Where did you hear that?”
“I didn't hear it from anyone. It was in his technique. But so wrapped up in that unorthodox Yarlese internal strength of his that it took me a while to discern it.” He turned a caring glance towards Xun Da. “I’m serious Da’er; never dismiss Wangchuk Drup as a threat. His development over these last few years has me dumbfounded. I'm still far beyond him, but after a few more years if he continues these types of gains, he'll overtake me and even Reverend Tai. That's assuming the Reverend has more than just a few years ahead of him.” Easing back into a lying position, Wong Shi Hong drained his flask. “Ah, that's good,” he sighed with pleasure before continuing. “But for now, it's the hunchback we must deal with. He's as devious as they come. Nobody knows how good he really is but I suspect he could match any of us.”
“Really? Of all the Greats, we hear about his kung fu the least. He's mainly regarded for his use of poisons. I would've thought that meant his actual hand to hand combat was comparatively weaker.”
“Not at all. That's just what he wants you to think. Have you ever heard of Gilded Divinity?”
“Of course, he was the greatest martial expert of his generation and the Head Abbot of Shaolin Temple. That was a hundred years ago.”
“Right, he was Reverend Tai’s master, the Reverend Tung. Yu Guo Wei killed him in a brutal test of physical combat.”
Xun Da’s eyes widened.
“Reverend Tung was aged at the time,” Wong Shi Hong continued. “Well past a hundred and thirty years old but he was still immensely powerful.”
“What happened?”
Wong Shi Hong took another drink and settled into the telling of this old story. “Seventy years ago, Reverend Tung summoned Yu Guo Wei along with me, Fu Xiaoli, and that raging ‘Old Fool’ Liao Quan to meet and discuss the increasing cruelty with which certain masters of the new generation were dispatching their enemies. His intention was to curb Yu Guo Wei's maliciousness, not to mention the Blue Lady’s, by appealing to their better nature. I had told him repeatedly that the Divine Alchemist had none but you know monks—always, looking for the hidden good in people. The meeting ended with token pleasantries being exchanged but I stayed on at Reverend Tung’s request.
“I was a young man but I'd already gained renown for some meaningless deeds which the Reverend respected. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep these new masters in line much longer so he asked me to keep an eye on Yu Guo Wei's conduct once he himself had passed on. More to the point, to eliminate him if he showed signs that he was becoming even crueller.”
Xun Da gasped disbelievingly.
“This was before Yu Guo Wei was to begin specialising with poisons,” Wong Shi Hong continued. “At that time, other than his fighting ability, he was better known for his abilities in metallurgy and other chemical-based arts. But the Reverend could foresee the path he was taking. He urged me to forget about honour and martial code. ‘If he gets more dangerous, do whatever you need to kill him,’ he stressed.”
Xun Da was stunned; that an esteemed Buddhist would be so callous even if he was thinking of the greater good was incredible.
“Yu Guo Wei is older than me by twenty to twenty-five years,” Wong Shi Hong carried on, “so I was wary of his strength. I naturally heeded the Reverend’s words but I still felt I shouldn't have to ‘arrange’ his death. If and when the time came, I would simply fight him. For the next few years I gave up my wine and gambling and raised my skill levels dramatically. I returned to Mount Song to assure Reverend Tung that I could handle Yu Guo Wei myself and to put his mind at ease. At the time, the Reverend was meditating in complete seclusion; his disciples hadn’t seen him in nearly a year. They informed me they would leave food for him outside his hut, deep in the forests on the northern slope and would collect the empty trays without ever seeing him.
“I thought it strange that he'd stay so long secluded during a time when he was so concerned about the actions of certain masters; so I decided to visit him without his disciples’ permission—they'd just make their usual fuss over protocol. It was as I'd feared. When I arrived at his hut, I found the Reverend's body brutalised. He had been dead months. Palm strikes had crushed the bones of his body and his neck had been smashed with several kicks. But there was something else. Some of his internal organs had been removed—some just after death and some much more recently. Markedly, there were no traces of poison anywhere.
“It occurred to me quickly that someone must be removing the daily meals that were being delivered and returning the empty plates so I covered any indications that I was there and hid myself outside the hut. Later that evening, I saw a disciple leaving that evening’s meal and collecting the previous night’s dishes. About an hour later, a shadow appeared outside the hut and darted inwards. I moved close to a window and saw the shadowy figure lifting up a rug which had been covering the largest wall of the hut and begin practicing some strange kung fu. It was Yu Guo Wei!
“He was stealing the highest learnings of the Gilded Divinity—the understandings he had come to during his final days of meditation—which he had written on the wall of his hut. During times of deep meditation, a master would typically be weakened so no doubt Yu Guo Wei took advantage of a more vulnerable Reverend Tung. But the monk would've possessed immense power nonetheless. That Yu Guo Wei defeated him was no insignificant feat.
“Naturally, I was enraged but if the Divine Alchemist had beaten Gilded Divinity, then clearly I was not at all ready to face him. Not sure what to do, I stayed hidden and observed him for longer. At first, I couldn't figure out why he didn't just c
opy the markings on the hut wall and find somewhere far away to train. Then later in the night, I heard strange slicing sounds and smelled some faintly disturbing odours coming from the hut. I peered through the window and saw Yu Guo Wei removing part of the liver from Gilded Divinity’s rotting corpse, mixing it with herbs and consuming it. He was eating the Reverend Tung!”
Xun Da turned green. For the first time in his life, he considered that maybe demons do exists.
“Ah, that's Yu Guo Wei,” Wong Shi Hong lamented, disgustedly. “A stinking rotten mystic to the core. He spent his life looking for some magic potion that would render him immortal and when he couldn't find it, he convinced himself the Reverend Tung had done. Rather than try to find it himself, he simply consumed his flesh and hoped to assimilate whatever herb concoction he believed the Reverend had stumbled upon. He was experimenting with different organs and different combinations of organs and local herbs. That's why he was staying in the hut and not fleeing immediately.
“Anyway, I buried what was left of the Reverend the following day, made a copy of the characters on the wall, and destroyed the hut before Yu Guo Wei returned. Biding my time for the next ten years, I trained and prepared until I eventually tracked Yu Guo Wei down again. I wrote a letter to Reverend Tai who had assumed his master’s position as Head Abbot of Shaolin Temple and explained what had really occurred regarding his master’s death. I enclosed the martial manual I had copied from the wall in his master’s hut.”
“Excuse me, Shifu,” Xun Da interrupted. “I don’t understand. Why didn't the Reverend Tung simply ask his own disciple to take care of Yu Guo Wei in the first place? He was the same age as Yu Guo Wei and therefore just as experienced. And by all accounts, Infinite Sky is the genuine heir to his master’s place as the number one martial artist under heaven.”