by Mark Swaine
The General grunts profanities before swimming away to shore. In the seclusion of a garden, Yu-Huang practises the art of conjuring the Bonsai portals until he is certain he has mastered its magic. The Emperor knows there is a purpose for this remarkable gift, but once again he finds himself wandering in the dark for answers. Perhaps Emperor Baransu knows more than he revealed. For countless sundowns, Yu-Huang speaks to the warrior within the painting, but Baransu shows no signs of life. Yu-Huang decides to settle back into his familiar routine, hoping the answers will reveal themselves, just as they usually do, when he is least aware. Perhaps further mysteries will be solved with his mind at its quietest and his thoughts undisturbed.
CHAPTER TEN
A few weeks later, Yu-Huang ventures into his city using the Bonsai portal. After accidentally using the Bonsai portal on him own men, with training he has since discovered that he can only conjure the portals on land that his feet have once tread upon. The Bonsai tree bursts from the snow covered ground and opens up in-between a narrow alleyway. The Emperor emerges from under the shadow of leaves above. Manipulating the tree back into the earth, he enters the busy East Lake market. It was busy in the market, packed with shoppers and traders trudging on the slushy muddy ground. Cows, goats and sheep wander freely in the market as ducks and chickens run rampant in clouds of flapping feathers. Customers haggle prices with merchants as cowrie shells are passed back and forth in fast exchanges. Through the heavy snowfall and even thicker crowd, Yu-Huang glances at a scruffy little girl stealing an apple from a market stall.
Slyly making her way through the crowd she swipes cowrie shells from the shoulder high pockets of busy shoppers. The Emperor continues watching the sneaky and devious street kid. Eventually, she senses the stranger’s disapproving glare. The girl returns Yu-Huang's scowl and quickly disappears into the dashing legs of the surging crowd. This was not the first time Yu-Huang had encountered any kind of thievery, although he too has tried his hand at thievery, his misdeed was for the greater good, even if was unsuccessful. Yu-Huang ponders over the girl's act of thievery as she darts around a corner. In her retreat, the little thief runs into a jade robed wall and bounces onto her back. Slightly dazed, she looks up and sees the wall is actually the nosy busy-body who had witnessed her thievery in the market. The girl flips to her feet and forms an attack position. Yu-Huang frowns with arms folded, and with a wag of unified fingers he gestures her forward to invite an attack. Yu-Huang loves children, but having been raised with the strictest of discipline, he finds it difficult to observe the lack of self-control in others, a virtue understandably not held in high regard by any child. Yu-Huang waits tolerantly for the oncoming attack, but what he isn't aware of is the handful of dirt and icy sludge in her hand. Faking an attack, she throws the handful of icy dirt at Yu-Huang’s face then kicks him hard between the legs. Yu-Huang's eyes widen as he slowly drops to his knees. With the downed Yu-Huang now at level height, she roundhouse kicks him across the face before racing off and informing him of his deserved beating.
“Learn from your mistake Emperor. Next time, I will break your neck,” shouts the distant sweet voice.
The dirty-faced, thigh-high little brat sprints by the surprised Emperor whilst leaping over chicken crates, barrels of ale and hay stacks. Navigating a maze of alleyways barely wide enough to fit an apple cart, she stops short of the clearing between the markets edge and her route home. Peering around the corner of the narrow lane, she ensures the coast is clear of patrolling guards, Trackers, or anybody else who might be looking for her. Finally, she makes a break for a stone curved bridge leading to lane beside an overgrown forest. After clearing an obstacle course of trees and branches, she can see her home past the woodlands the woodlands not far away. Through the dense brush, she smiles at a lone, giant Sequoia tree situated in a golden wheat field beyond the woodland clearing. All she need do is cross the arched, snow covered bridge beyond the brush of vines and she'd be home before sundown. She smiles excitedly at the thought of sharing the apple she stole with her best friend waiting for her at home. She feels bad for her friend, stuck indoors all day, but promises to cheer him up by sharing her latest adventure... ‘The Escape from Yu-Huang the Great’. The girl sprints faster,reaching the stone ledge of a short fall with a shallow river running below it. Grabbing onto a rope tied to a tree, she swings across the gap and lands into a continuous run before stopping dead in her tracks. In the centre of the bridge, Yu-Huang stands between her and the exit, looking extremely angry.
“Did you not heed my warning? Need I teach you another lesson! Move aside or prepare to be destroyed, my Wushu is strong,” says the girl, threateningly raising a clenched fist.
“Prove it,” says Yu-Huang, preparing an attack stance. “If you can get past me this time, I will allow you to keep the items you stole from the market,”
The kid accepts his bargain without a second's hesitation and jumps onto the low bridge wall. The determined child sprints toward Yu-Huang at high speed and delivers a surprisingly powerful double roundhouse kick. The Emperor blocks both feet with his forearms and she continues with a barrage of forward thrusts and kicks. Throwing one straight punch after the next, the Emperor deflects each one as he tests her strength, endurance and true character. As sundown approaches, she finally tires and gives up after one final limp swing of her skinny short arm. Yu-Huang tuts disapprovingly then pushes her off the wall into the ice-cold river below. Yu-Huang strolls down to the brook to find the girl sat up, scowling at him beneath her drenched, scraggly black hair.
“Why did you do that?,” asks the scowling girl, dangling her saturated sleeves above the water.
“Those who fight dirty need wash more,” replies Yu-Huang, righteously.
Yu-Huang wades through the snowy banks and into the stream, extending his hand to to the girl. Refusing his aid she slaps his hand away and furiously rises to her feet. Angered in defeat, she silently barges past him.
“You were telling the truth child. Your Wushu is strong. What name does your Sensei go by? I must commend him personally,” compliments Yu-Huang.
“Leave me alone!” yells the kid frustratingly.
Storming off in the crunching snow with her sleeves hanging and flapping furiously below her hands, she climbs the wet and wooded, slippery bank of the stream, only to be met by Yu-Huang waiting for her at the top.
“There is no shame in defeat child, what is it that you seek?” asks Yu-Huang, patiently.
“I want to be the best!” shouts the girl, turning to face him.
“Then why did you leave your Sensei? Why did you abandon your teachings?” asks Yu-Huang.
“She would not teach me magic,” replies the girl, hesitating to confide in the stranger.
“Magic in untrained hands is dangerous,” replies Yu-Huang.
“‘Tis not her decision, she presumes to be my guardian,” says the girl, irritably. “Wait, you are Emperor Yu-Huang, Master of Wushu and Magic, you can teach me?” says the girl, wringing the water from her sleeves.
“Name your Sensei, and assumed guardian and perhaps I will share a spell with you,” says Yu-Huang reasonably.
“Her name is Shuang Jinfei, she is a tutor at my school, now what spell will you teach me?” says the girl.
Yu-Huang's suspicions are correct; she is the lost girl Shuang Jinfei had asked me to look out for some time ago. Yu-Huang recalls the girl's street name... Xunsu.
“What is your name child?” asks Yu-Huang.
“My name is Xunsu (Swift),” she replies proudly.
“Today Xunsu, I will teach you the spell of the tongue, ‘tis a sacred spell shared by the brave and mighty Samurai, Kamui Li,” says Yu-Huang, trying to sell his pitch.
Yu-Huang mutters the words of the Spell of the Tongue on Xunsu and awaits her response. Xunsu stares at the Emperor, awaiting some miraculous feat that fails to transpire.
“Is that the limit of your magical prowess, a spell that changes my language and makes me sound like a f
ool? you tricked me!” says Xunsu in a low warning voice.
“This spell is one that I share only with those that I trust, 'tis a good spell, and there are many variations in which it can be used. For example... “yesli vy smeyete pozorit' menya v boyu snova, ya budu u vas tkachestvo posevnyye kalitki korziny v techeniye sleduyushchikh chetyrekh sezonov vpered (should you dare dishonour me in combat again, I will have you weaving wicker baskets for the next four seasons to come),” says Yu-Huang in Russian.
“Me vas a enseñar los mil Patadas del Swift (you will teach me the thousand Kicks of the Swift),” commands Xunsu, in Spanish.
“I know not of such an obligation,” says the Emperor, returning to his ancient Chinese dialect.
Yu-Huang's eyebrows arch as he waits for her to acknowledge the error of her ill-informed demand. Chirping crickets fill the long silence as waits patiently for the girl to reiterate her request in a more respectful manner.
“I would be... honoured?... if you were to teach me the art of the Thousand Kicks of the Swift?” says Xunsu more humbly.
“It would be my pleasure,” smiles Yu-Huang, turning to sit on a smooth flat rock overlooking the stream.
“Or else,” mumbles the girl quietly, squeezing in the last word.
“Excuse me?” says Yu-Huang.
Xunsu shrugs her shoulders and her new acquaintance gestures for her to take a seat beside him. Yu-Huang throws his robe around her soaked shoulders, finally taking a little pity on his cold, drenched opponent and explains that mastering the art of the Swift kick is one very few have achieved. Using his Staff, he points to a rock in the river whilst conveying a very simple philosophy for the short tempered youngster, the mind must be as silent, still, and strong as the rock that lay in the stream. He also reveals that the Thousand Kicks of the Swift is one of many Wushu techniques techniques that even the Jade soldiers are not trained the dangerous technique due to the length of time required to ultimately master.
“I had only just learned to walk when I first mastered the art of the Swift kick. That was a long, long time ago. The story is longer than the coldest winter night, it began wh…”
“That’s an interesting story, can you skip to the end?” says the girl innocently, more interested in the action-laden finale.
Aware of just how blissful ignorance can be, Yu-Huang smiles and sighs, pacifying the youngster by overlooking the measures of the story. Points he deemed most relevant to Xunsu's lesson, virtues that she needed to understand if she’s to master the art of the Thousand Kicks of the Swift. Yu-Huang, being the ever-patient one with time as his ally, realises the big-spirited child has the potential to self-attain these virtues with a little guidance.
“The hour is late. We begin training at first light tomorrow,” says Yu-Huang.
Xunsu punches the air with victory, unable to contain her excitement.
“But first,” says Yu-Huang sternly, “we must inform your guardians?” says Yu-Huang strictly.
“I know not where they are. I was living with Laoshi before I left,” says Xunsu.
“Then, where have you been staying? Who has been taking care of you?” asks Yu-Huang.
“I can take care of myself,” assures Xunsu.
“You are alone, you have no family to speak of?” says Yu-Huang impressed by her high level of independency. “Very well, but we must inform Laoshi that you are safe and well,”
Yu-Huang folds his bottom lip back and whistles gracefully whilst preparing a small scroll. As expected, a large squawking heron flies toward Yu-Huang and lands on his shoulder, adjusting its pink talons over his shoulder. Yu-Huang attaches the note to the heron’s ankle and gives thanks before it flies away. He returns his focus to Xunsu and asks her as patiently as one can for her birth title so he can locate her real guardians, but she was either telling the truth and could not remember, or did not want to.
“Come now Xunsu, nightfall approaches and we must seek lodgings,” says Yu-Huang.
“Wait, my best friend is waiting for me back at home. You must meet him, we never have guests. We not need lodgings, my home has space for fifty soldiers,” says Xunsu, earnestly.
Concerned for Xunsu's welfare and curious as to the identity of her friend, Yu-Huang graciously accepts the invite. As they make their way across the thick brush of the golden wheat field, Xunsu merrily swings Yu-Huang’s hand as if she’d known him all her life. The wheat is much taller than Xunsu and only the skinny hand swinging his hand far above the swaying spikelets shows he isn't a madman speaking to himself. Xunsu speaks excitedly of Yu-Huang joining them for some tea, honey and bread and to eat as much as he can, as there is plenty to go around. They reach the base of a gargantuan Sequoia tree, and Xunsu slides a curved bark panel on the hollow trunk. Xunsu invites Yu-Huang into the warm, spacious living area and lights a small fireplace before dangling a pot of tea over it. Yu-Huang has to admit, he's impressed at the cosy and warm wooden interior. The digs have everything a homebody could possible need to keep warm during a cold stormy night. Woollen rugs and throws decorate and insulate the floors and furniture. Amber lamps light the winding steps carved from the wooden interior, ascending in a spiral to various mezzanine floors where hammocks dangle.
“This is truly a remarkable home Xunsu,” says Yu-Huang approvingly.
“I know, I found it like this, but I made it look nicer, now it feels just like home,” replies Xunsu.
“Where did you acquire all of your furniture...on second thought, do not answer that,” says Yu-Huang, pondering on some poor soul’s cabin, void of furniture. “Did you and your friend decorate your home together?” asks Yu-Huang, enthusiastically, trying his best to placate her adventurous and childish nature.
“No, I did, my friend built the inside I think,” says Xunsu.
“When will your friend be joining us for tea?” asks Yu-Huang.
“I will wake him now,” says Xunsu, removing the brimming and bubbling pot of tea from the fireplace.
Xunsu hurriedly walks over to the dining area; a white mushroom table surrounded by short and stubby pink mushrooms doubling as stools. Xunsu quietly approaches a cloaked figure at the head of the table. Yu-Huang had noticed the cloaked object upon entering the room, but was was distracted by his host’s erratic rambling and excitement. Xunsu slowly lifts the overhanging hood of the cloak, as not to startle the silent individual.
“Wake up sleepyhead,” says Xunsu gently. “He doesn't talk much, but once he gets to know you, he’ll talk you to death,” says Xunsu, exasperating.
Xunsu removes the hood completely and turns her quiet friend to face Yu-Huang.
“Yu-Huang, meet my friend,” says Xunsu proudly.
Yu-Huang, remaining straight-faced, folds his arms and rubs his chin whilst observing the shocked expression on the tenant’s face. Void of hair and skin, his holloweye sockets and open mouth of perfect teeth almost make him look as though he's crying out for help. Yu-Huang is torn between his overwhelming sympathy for the troubled, lonely girl and skeletal deceased man who’s surely endured endless imaginary tea parties and one way conversations. Xunsu extends his skeletal hand to an empty pot of tea, helping him take a sip.
“"Don’t just stand there, sit down next to my friend,” says Xunsu kindly.
Unsure of how to handle the situation, Yu-Huang sits down on the bouncy pink mushroom. Xunsu twists her friend's skull to look at Yu-Huang, adding to his discomfort. He refrains from addressing his thoughts for the time being, aware of how carefully he must tread as not damage her trust. But he also feels extreme regret for the deceased young man wearing women's apparel and smelling of crushed flowers. Sensing she has forgotten something, Xunsu looks strangely at the table before sprinting upstairs to the first level. Sliding open another bark panel door; she strolls out onto a huge branch and cautiously approaches its thinning end. Dangling of the end of the branch with one arm, she slides her hand into a beehive twice her size. Careful as not to irritate the large tranquil bees, she slowly removes three ma
sses of sticky, golden honeycombs and places them neatly into a pouch. Xunsu shimmies under the branch with her monkey like grip and swings back onto the branch. Racing from floor to floor, she prepares bread, jam and handpicked berries whilst leaving her guests downstairs to chat. Arriving back at the table with her arms full, she arranges the banquet in pretty display on the soft wobbling table. Yu-Huang helps himself whilst placing a piece of honey covered bread on the skeleton’s stone plate, much to Xunsu's gratitude.
“So,” says Yu-Huang, awkwardly, before taking a generous bite of his honey sandwich, “does your friend have a name?”
“Of course he has a name, silly,” replies Xunsu, dumping a pile of honey between two pieces of bread.
Yu-Huang waves his sandwich in a continuing gesture and Xunsu appears confused as she confronts the reality that she doesn’t know his name. Instead, she avoids the question and clasps the bare skull with her honey covered hands. Holding her friend's jaw, she moves it up and down whilst mimicking what she imagined the departed man's voice would sound like: cheerful and chirpy.