by Mark Swaine
“Would you like some more tea?” asks the manipulated skeleton.
Yu-Huang chokes on his sandwich before politely declining, and Xunsu discreetly informs her friend that their guest is a man of great importance.
“Who am I exactly, Xunsu?” says Yu-Huang, smirking slightly.
“You are him, Yu-Huang, Emperor of all of China, Master of Wushu and friend to the dragons,” says Xunsu, holding up a miniature clay action figure of Yu-Huang.
“You crafted this yourself? You possess skilled hands and a keen eye for detail,” says Yu-Huang, complimenting her craftsmanship.
“Yes, I have many. I even made one of your grumpy General Arachie,” says Xunsu.
Xunsu shows Yu-Huang the miniature figurine of the General and he releases a short but genuinely wicked laugh at the uncanny resemblance of the General’s familiar stern expression. “I wish I could make people out of clay, just as you are able,” says Xunsu in a dreamy state.
“Humans existed long before I entered the realm Xunsu, they will exist long after I am gone, should I have my say,” says Yu-Huang.
“You did not create us from clay?” asks Xunsu confused.
“I am afraid you have misunderstood the tale my friend, just as so many others have,” replies Yu-Huang.
“Are you calling my friend a liar?” asks Xunsu.
Yu-Huang looks plain-faced at the helpless skeleton and looks back at Xunsu's cross expression.
“No, I am not calling him a liar, I am simply informing you... and your friend, that he is mistaken,” replies Yu-Huang, carefully.
“Then what really happened?” asks the manipulated skeleton.
“When I was a mere infant, I, like you, also enjoyed making clay models. I could make them almost as well as you can, down to every little detail, lifelike if you will. But for as lifelike as they were, for as much as I prayed they would move, speak or show any signs of life. No amount of magic or divine energy would grant them life, ‘twas then I discovered the very essence of the human spirit. ‘Tis not the blood coursing through our veins, nor our beating hearts that drives our frail vessels, but the human spirit contained within,” recounts Yu-Huang.
“Without our spirits we would all be dead?” asks Xunsu.
“Without our spirits, we might as well be, regardless as to what matter we’re created from,” replies Yu-Huang.
“I have some Samurai somewhere, but my friend lost one,” says Xunsu, looking around the floor.
“What are your thoughts on the Samurai, Xunsu?” asks Yu-Huang, smiling at her short attention span.
“I want to be one, but there are no girls allowed,” replies Xunsu.
“The Onna-Bugeisha allow women into their ranks,” replies the Emperor.
“But they are not real Samurai,” replies Xunsu.
“You and the General share much in common,” says Yu-Huang exhaling a protesting laugh. “Who is your favourite Samurai?” asks Yu-Huang.
“That’s easy, Kamui Li, the mightiest and wisest of all the Samurai,” says Xunsu, waving her imaginary Katana.
“That he is,” says Yu-Huang, concurring.
The peaceful sound of whistling wind and clashing of leaves rustling against the tree trunk causes Xunsu’s eyes to fall momentarily. Yu-Huang peers through the small open panel of the tree trunk, even though the snow has ceased, a strong gale blows the wheat fields in thick golden waves. As the trunk of the tree moans and creaks against the impact of the heavy wind, he looks to the dark skies informing him of an impending heavy rainfall this night. Turning away from the coming storm, he notices two Dao swords resting on wall mounted brackets in a crossed display on the wall.
“Those swords bare the mark of a Jade soldier, Xunsu where did you get them,” asks Yu-Huang.
“I found them resting with my friend outside, they were covered in honey, it took me a long time to clean them. I think a beehive fell on his head. I'm taking care of him until he gets better,” says Xunsu, smacking her lips together with her eyes half-closed, “just like my mother and father looked after me, until...”
Xunsu rubs her eyes, yawning far and wide whilst outstretching her arms. She fights the urge to sleep, until laying her head on the soft rubbery table, snoring like a giant. Yu-Huang lifts her up and places her in a hammock; laying his robe over her, he tucks it around her neck then turns to the skeleton, still wide awake. Yu-Huang collects him up in one piece and sets about burying him a short distance beside the tree. Placing his bones in the dug hole, he places a hand on his smooth cold skull and concentrates on the departed man's life. Yu-Huang's eyelids flicker and his jaw twitches as he soaks in the man's past, who he was, and how he died. The teenage boy was a Jade soldier in training and had met with a fatal accident during his recreational time. Yu-Huang lays him to rest with his two Dao swords before speaking credibly of the soldier, the life he led, those who loved him, and the paths he chose that led to the qualities he possessed. The Emperor stands over his grave till dawn. As the rising sun merges the pale starlit darkness with the tiers of lilac and fuschia, Xunsu emerges from the tree; she sees Yu-Huang a short distance away and walks groggily over to him.
“Where is my friend? I cannot find him,” says Xunsu, turning her head in all directions.
“He is sleeping now; he is very tired,” replies Yu-Huang, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder.
“When will he awaken?” asks Xunsu, in dismay.
“Never, he is at peace now, where he belongs,” says the Emperor.
Suddenly Yu-Huang winces as a series of unexplainable images flash forcibly in his mind, as though something or someone was angry with his incorrect answer to Xunsu's question, and taunting him with the correct one. These images, he dare not comprehend, he had seen before in his dreams, faces of maniacs and murderers. Faces that even to him cannot be described as anything but insane; the images fade and the pain dissipates as he regains control of his senses.
“...though nothing is certain,” reiterates Yu-Huang, as if being watched.
“I am going to miss him,” says Xunsu, eyes glistening.
“Then tell him, it’s never too late,” says Yu-Huang.
“Can he hear me?” asks Xunsu.
“His spirit may smile upon you as he hears your voice,” says the Emperor.
Yu-Huang allows Xunsu some privacy as she mourns the loss of her best friend. Yu-Huang cannot help but feel she is mourning more than just her skeletal companion and has suffered some horrifying tragedy she dare not confront. Xunsu's tears eventually cease and she speaks softly and happily of times well spent together and bids him farewell. Yu-Huang approaches Xunsu and takes a knee as he uses the edges of his sleeves to wipe away her tears and clean her snotty nose.
“Xunsu, are you ready to begin your training?” asks Yu-Huang.
“I am always ready,” replies Xunsu, rapidly nodding her head.
“From this day forth, under my teachings, you will address me as master. You will follow my every instruction without a second’s hesitation and without question. We do this my way, or not at all,” says Yu-Huang, commanding obedience.
“Yes Master Yu-Huang,” replies Xunsu, straightening up.
“During the course of your training, your feeble body and undisciplined mind will experience more pain than you can possibly comprehend. Should there be any doubt in your mind whether you wish to begin your training, speak now,” says Yu-Huang.
Xunsu says nothing, staring up in wide-eyed awe at her Master, feeling like a true Jade soldier and an important ally to the Emperor.
“Very well. We go now, to the Blue Dragon waterfall on the Kunlun Mountains, beyond the waterfall lies the Red Sun village, where upon my Masters trained me in the arts of Wushu, magic and philosophy, whence I too was a child,” says the Emperor.
“Yes Master Yu-Huang,” replies Xunsu, bowing.
“Wushu is not only to be used only in self-defence, but to aid those in need who are unable to defend themselves. You will fight with honour, no more lo
w strikes, no more cheap tricks, do I make myself clear child?” says Yu-Huang, sternly.
“Yes Master Yu-Huang,” replies Xunsu, sheepishly accepting the subtle grilling.
“Gather your belongings, take only what you need. Leave your sandals, you will not be needing them,” says Yu-Huang,leaving.
“Why?” questions Xunsu.
“Was that a question?” says Yu-Huang, crossly.
Yu-Huang shoots her a look of warning and Xunsu quickly kicks off her sandals. Xunsu quickly runs into the tree house and collects a few throws, pots and pans and her prize collection of figurines. Excited about the prospect of adventure and clearly ignorant to the arduous and challenging journey ahead, she bounds back outside to meet her temporary guardian. Yu-Huang shakes his head, completely aware that his rules, warnings and words of wisdom have already gone in one ear and out the other. But he can't help feel an overwhelming sense of empathy for his hyper new friend as he foresees the pain and discomfort she'll experience over the next few seasons. One thing Yu-Huang begins to consider, that perhaps it will be she, who puts him to the test.
“Hurry up silly, the sooner we get there the sooner we can begin training,” says Xunsu, jumping on the spot,
“So it begins,” sighs Yu-Huang.
As Xunsu begins running ahead through the cornfield, Yu-Huang turns back to the deceased boy's burial plot.
“Be at peace, Mafeng,” says Yu-Huang, before turning to the distant mountains.
An hour passes and the Kunlun Mountain range isn't getting any closer, and would not for at least a week. Yu-Huang had switched off to Xunsu's constant questioning and insignificant observations long ago, and she eventually begins griping.
“I’m hungry,” says Xunsu, hanging her arms and dragging her bare feet.
“Xunsu you have just fed, pick up your pace and stop dragging your feet,” says Yu-Huang passing her an apple from his inside pocket.
“Ohhhh, no,” says Xunsu in quiet despair.
“What is the matter now?” asks Yu-Huang, rubbing his temples.
“This is a green apple; I wish it was a red apple,” whinges Xunsu.
“My heart bleeds like that of a breaking river child,” replies Yu-Huang.
“You're mean when you're hungry,” observes Xunsu.
“I am not hungry,” he replies.
“You must be. Here, have half of my apple,” says Xunsu, catching up to her tall companion.
“My gratitude Xunsu, but you enjoy it, you will need your strength,” says Yu-Huang.
The afternoon sun clears through a break in the coming storm clouds and beats down on them as Yu-Huang awaits the inevitable in a long list of repeated complaints.
“My feet hurt, can we rest? We have been walking since sunrise,” says Xunsu walking with an exhausted, painful posture.
“No, we rest at nightfall. Come here, let me see your feet,” says Yu-Huang, lifting her onto a tall grassy ledge.
Xunsu winces as she shows Yu-Huang the blistered and bloodied soles of her feet. He gives her a nod of approval and tells her to keep up. Xunsu jumps down from the ledge, hobbling and limping to keep up with her master. At nightfall, they break for camp just as Yu-Huang said they would. Both are still and silent around the warmth of the fire as Yu-Huang prepares a meal for two. Xunsu stares into the fire, hypnotised by the dancing flames cradling her to sleep as dozes off. Yu-Huang wakes Xunsu and tells her to eat. She looks at the dragon scale plate of spicy lentils and resists the urge to snatch the meal straight from his hands. Xunsu's meal barely touches the sides of her mouth as she enjoys each spoonful like it was her first and last meal. The second she finishes the meal, she returns straight to her slumber.
Having not the heart to wake her, Yu-Huang carefully spaces Xunsu’s toes’s with twigs and smothers them in a soothing lather of aloe vera. Then he rests her feet on a log to allow the chill of night to aid in cooling them down. Yu-Huang smiles at his little friend as she sleeps silently with her mouth agape and cheek pressed against her mouth. He stares into the fire, pondering on their destination, for much time had passed since he last ventured to his old domain within the Kūnlún Mountains. ‘Twas the place he called home during his long childhood. He isn't even certain he wants to return, but answers may lay in wait if he can recall just one memory that may shed some light on his list of questions and predicaments. The two travellers awake the following sunrise and Yu-Huang teaches his student how to catch fish using her bare hands in a nearby stream at the base of a waterfall. They eat a hearty meal of fried salmon and continue their journey onwards. Yu-Huang maintains a constant steady speed that barely accommodates Xunsu; she limps on, enduring each painful step along the way, lagging a little behind her unsympathetic companion.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
One month later, the two reach the first mountain face. Using nothing but their bare feet and solid iron grip, they scale the monstrous grey wall, stopping wherever they found room to rest amid the sharp howling heights. Upon reaching the summit of the first mountain, they push on. Maintaining a steady pace across the foot shredding, rough terrain on the frosty, slate covered foothills of the Kunlun Mountains, Xunsu's face is one of unfaltering determination. Through high, narrow spaces, they squeeze between jagged, serrated cliff faces, navigating the darkest of caves through underwater tunnels, until reaching the base of the mountain trail leading to another, far more imposing mountain. Yu-Huang is impressed, surprised and incredibly proud of Xunsu; she has displayed credible resilience to pain and endurance throughout the long journey. Every inch of her hands and feet burn with sores and blisters. Her ankles and calves are layered in deep scratches from the many falls, trips and slips she has suffered along the way. Though Yu-Huang hated to see the extreme discomfort inflicted by his tutoring, her days of complaining had long since ended and he couldn’t have asked for a better student. That night the two travellers camp at the base of the Mountain trail, Xunsu finally swallows her pride and repeats the question Yu-Huang considers long overdue.
“Master Yu-Huang, why did you instruct me to leave my sandals behind? Why did we not journey on horseback? We would have arrived much sooner,” says Xunsu, expressing logic.
“Yes, there are Trails of which horse and cart may follow. I was around five years old when I first walked this path, the same path you have walked for the past four seasons. During my long torturous journey on foot, my mother begged my father's permission to carry me. He would not allow it, even though it pained him just as much to watch my suffering. During my training, I understood then, just as I do now, the importance of braving the journey with nothing but the soles of my feet to push me forward, and soon, so shall you my friend,” assures Yu-Huang.
Yu-Huang senses that his curious travelling companion is dissatisfied with his vague answer. He smiles whilst rotating a skewered rabbit over a small fire.
“But at least I’m not alone, I have you to show me the way,” says Xunsu.
“Nor was I alone during my training. Four others there were, one of the boys named Yen Ti, was a Monk. A skilled boy, he was very amusing, asked a lot of questions...” says Yu-Huang pointing a stick at Xunsu jokingly. I loved him like a brother, regardless of his idleness and impatience, he assumed that taking the quick and easy path would hold no consequence. Those who train extreme Wushu must make the journey barefoot or face pain of unimaginable portions during their training. Yen Ti, the fool, had his donkey follow him a few miles behind on his voyage. One night, while the camp slept, he left a note telling us we were slowing him down. Yen Ti met his donkey and rode the rest of the way to the Blue dragon waterfall. We arrived to find him practising Wushu in the village, keeping his cheating means of travel a secret. He had told no one of his means of travel; even our Sensei was fooled by his craftiness. Yet, for all of his misgivings, Yen Ti was an extremely receptive and powerful apprentice,” smiles Yu-Huang, in remembrance.
“Did he, too, Master the art of the Swift kick technique?” asks Xunsu.
“Unfort
unately for Yen Ti, yes he did. The skin was flayed from his legs as he mastered the Thousand Kicks of the Swift technique. I will never forget the sound of his screaming,” says Yu Huang shuddering in recollection of Yen Ti's suffering. “Now do you see my friend, the vessel of the mortal must be ready. ‘Tis borderline magic you will be learning, and magic is dangerous. Be wise my friend, do not make the same mistake as my adopted brother,”
“Where is he now? Will we see him when we arrive at the Red Sun village?” asks Xunsu, optimistically.
“No,” says Yu-Huang, with a sad smile whilst turning the roasting rabbit onto its belly.
Xunsu nods her head respectfully and pauses to ask her next question.
“Master Yu-Huang, you said there were three others,” says Xunsu.
“The other two were my younger siblings. My proud brother Chen Yuang and my dear sister Sien Tsan,” replies Yu-Huang, fondly.