Elder Rulan led the way to the Veneration Hall, and they stood in the waning sunlight of the afternoon, alone except for the statues of the Three Pure Ones.

  “Well?” Chen Rulan asked, expectantly, but not unkindly.

  --Shit, this was a stupid idea.--

  The silence stretched as Pengfei searched for, first, the right way to phrase his request, and when that failed, a plausible excuse to exit the situation. The elder seemed content to wait in silence. Time stretched on until the boy cracked.

  “Please accept me as your disciple!” Pengfei blurted, bowing low as he spoke.

  “Hughh…” Chen Rulan sighed and reached out a hand to raise Pengfei’s posture. “This… this seems like a long conversation. Let’s sit.”

  They crossed their legs across from each other on the wooden floor. Pengfei fidgeted nervously, now his turn to wait through an awkward silence while the other party gathered their thoughts. A group of several Jin disciples poked their heads into the Veneration Hall, perhaps hoping to practice their neigong, then read the room and departed quietly.

  “Why do you want to become a direct disciple in the first place, Pengfei?”

  “I’ve realized recently that I really do enjoy the martial arts. And I want to be good at it, go beyond the basic training.”

  “Uh huh… and why…well, it was Chen Weidao who won the match. Why didn’t you ask him to be your disciple?”

  Pengfei chuckled nervously and continued. “I’m not a very good swordsman. I have nothing against the jian, I still intend to practice it… but I was hoping you would teach me more of the sect’s fist methods. You and Elder Chen Ji are the only masters I have seen practicing unarmed techniques. And Elder Ji is –”

  “Yes, Chen Ji is Chen Ji.” Chen Rulan observed, preempting any indelicate remarks by the disciple. “Still, it’s a strange request. While we have had masters specializing in a multitude of weapons throughout our sect’s history, we’ve primarily been known for our prowess with the sword. The fist… less so.”

  “Yes elder. It’s just, there is something powerful and fierce about fighting bare handed. Like when you fought Elder Weidao without your sword just now. It was amazing.”

  The elder’s face softened at that. “It seems you’ve found your first love, hahaha… Might as well be the fist, I suppose.”

  “So, you’ll take me as your disciple, sir?” Pengfei asked again, hesitantly.

  “…No, Pengfei.” The man still wore a pleasant expression. He stroked his beard absent-mindedly as he spoke. “I have my reasons, a thousand and one of them, but they mostly have nothing to do with you. I’m happy to give you pointers from time to time, but I can’t take you as my disciple.”

  “Oh.” Pengfei’s chest constricted in anxiousness and all he wanted to do was run away. He stood and bowed to the elder, saying “Thank you for your time – “

  “Wait, boy, sit and – “

  But Pengfei was up and moving, disregarding all notions of propriety. The elder did not call him out on his rudeness, for leaving before permission was granted. Out in the cold air once again, the young man shook. Part weather, part dread. The embarrassment of what had just transpired washed over him.

  --What was I thinking!?--

  ******************************************************************************

  “What were you thinking?” Shutian chided.

  “I don’t know.” Pengfei said glumly, looking down at the iron pot where rice was absorbing heated water.

  “The whole idea is idiotic. You don’t need any more ties to this place holding you down. What if he had accepted you as a direct disciple? It’s not a casual thing. You would have needed his permission to leave the sect, even after the gates opened again.”

  “I guess I hadn’t thought of that part.” Pengfei conceded.

  “Whatever.” Shutian grumbled. “You need to stir, you’re burning the rice.”

  Pengfei moved a wooden spoon through the pot and Shutian continued chopping meat for the evening meal. It was once again their dormitory’s turn to prepare food for the week. They had come to the Dining Hall after the afternoon’s training had been cut short, Pengfei late due to his discussion with the elder. Not one to hide his misfortune, Pengfei had already informed his friends of the rejection.

  Xiaotong broke the tension, speaking casually. “Take the money and run. Just four more years, and you can do whatever you want.” He nudged Shutian in the ribs, teasing, “Just don’t take off before we’re officially allowed to, or I’ll send Pengfei after you again.”

  The three of them, even Shutian, laughed at the memory. Shutian’s attempt to run away, and the subsequent chase, had glued them together in friendship, along with Neng and Nanxi. Reminded of the others, a thought occurred to Pengfei.

  “I see the twins over there, but where’s Nanxi?”

  The others just shrugged, offering no insight into the boy’s absence. He didn’t reappear until the work was over, and the rest of them had sat down at their usual table to eat.

  “Someone has finally recognized my greatness.” Nanxi declared as he threw one leg then the other over the bench. “Chen Zi has asked me to be his student.”

  “What!?”

  “Congratulations.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “Wait, wait a second.” Pengfei stemmed the tide of remarks coming from the rest of the table. “Who is Chen Zi?”

  “Oh, they’re all the same.” Nanxi waved off the question. “The point is, out of all the Jin disciples, he chose me.”

  “What is his focus? What is he going to teach you?”

  It was Neng who answered. “The jian. ‘The Silent and Scentless Sword Stroke’. Why did he choose you of all people?”

  “He said it was for my deep spiritual insight.”

  The entire table laughed out loud at this.

  “You? The same guy who likes to smear goat shit on the heads of poor unsuspecting idiots?” Xiaotong asked in faux astonishment, drawing a muttered “Screw you” from Pengfei.

  Nanxi waved his chopsticks at them all and said, “I’ll have you know that finding humor in the mundane is one of the greatest hallmarks of the wise.”

  “I expected better of you, Nanxi.” Shutian rebuked.

  “Yeah, I thought you didn’t want a master.” Pengfei said, recalling their previous conversation. “What happened to doing the bare minimum and enjoying life?

  “Pengfei is jealous because he just got rejected by Chen Rulan.” Xiaotong explained.

  “What can I say? Elder Zi, no, Master Zi, appealed to my vanity. Besides, he says I only need to meet him once a week. And it comes with some perks. The pros outweigh the cons”

  Pengfei smiled and congratulated Nanxi with the rest, but real happiness was absent from his eyes. He was jealous, just like Xiaotong had said. Another friend, chosen above him, moving ahead and leaving Pengfei behind. Catch up and fall back again.

  Neng was understandable. With or without a sword, he was one of the best martial artists in the sect. But Nanxi? He might be Pengfei’s superior when it came to the jian, but the gap was much narrower when empty handed. Hadn’t the elders noticed that?

  --No, the recognition isn’t what’s important. It’s the martial arts I enjoy. Even if no one teaches me their advanced techniques, I can still learn a lot on my own. It’ll just be harder...--

  Pengfei was brought out of his sullen musings by the conversation around him. Nanxi adopted an air of superiority and gave exaggerated lectures to his friends on all their shortcomings. The others laughed uproariously, even the misanthropic Shutian. Pengfei chuckled along and joined in with the rest of the group when Nanxi’s antics went too far, prompting a volley of thrown food.

  --Still, a little bit of recognition would be nice.--

  ******************************************************************************

  Several days passed in normal routine. A morning run, followed by calisthenics, with the rest of the Jin generation. After breakfast, the training continued for those under Chen Ji. That number now included Nanxi, Tianwei, and Tianxun, all transferred to the Discipline Hall.

  The training in qinggong could be another run along the mountain or sometimes exercises aimed at improving the attributes needed for the movement techniques. The plum blossom poles for coordination and balance. Or like today, carrying enormous jars of water to develop raw strength.

  Pengfei attempted to use ‘Three Twists of the Dragon in the Clouds’. He circulated the qi in his lower dantian, trying to reduce the weight of his steps, but his meager reserves of energy did little to lighten his burden. When that didn’t work, he focused on the meridians in his legs. The aid to the muscles was more noticeable. It reduced their full-throated shrieks of agony to muffled shouts.

  It didn’t take long for the elder to reveal the reason behind the day’s sadistic trials.

  “Pengfei!” Chen Ji shouted loud enough for the disciples to hear as they bounded from rock to rock, above the snow. “I hear you met with Elder Rulan recently. He found your parting to be quite insolent.”

  --Oh no.--

  The other disciples looked at him with fire in their eyes that burned even hotter after the elder’s next words.

  “I assured him I would correct your behavior. You and your friends will be very busy for the foreseeable future.”

  “What did we do?” Shutian hissed under his breath to Xiaotong.

  “And Elder Rulan has also requested you come to his residence to complete some chores at the end of the week. I trust you’ll be more polite by then.”

  “Yes sir!” Pengfei shouted his assurances, the only acceptable answer, but grimaced inwardly. Not just at the prospect of whatever tortures Chen Ji had in store, but also at the offense given to Chen Rulan. He had been avoiding the instructor all week, blending in with the crowd during the group lessons in the afternoons.

  --I was rude storming off like I did, but I didn’t think Elder Rulan was the type to take offense at something like that.--

  The hike with the water jars was arduous, though fairly short. But the work was not done even at the end of the journey. The disciples found themselves in familiar territory. The top of the cliff overlooking the cells carved into the mountainside. While Pengfei had only seen Chen Rulan during his punishment here, the cells were under the purview of Elder Ji and the Discipline Hall.

  “Shutian, Fan, down the side with the supplies. The rest of you, back to the sect for the dry stores.”

  “Shit.” Shutian cursed, then began carefully easing himself over the edge and down the cliffside, followed by Jin Fan.

  Pengfei moved to follow the rest of his cohort, fetching the next load of goods, but Chen Ji reached a hand out to stop him.

  “You’ll lower the supplies down to these two.”

  The elder watched, standing ready to defy gravity and snatch up Shutian and Fan, mid-fall if necessary. Pengfei looked over the side as his friends descended the cliff towards the cell below. The staggering height was all he could focus on. The open air spread out behind the figures of the boys climbing down the rock face.

  --Still think I’d rather be down there with them.--

  He gave a quick glance to Elder Chen Ji. The short man stood silently but seemed to bubble with a sour mania. He tapped his foot impatiently, huffing periodically.

  The disciples disappeared into the cave below. A few minutes, a rush of water went sloshing out of the cell and flowing down the cliffside, leaving the rock dark with the moisture. The large urn of stagnant water Pengfei had survived on during his isolation emptied, to be replaced with the contents of the ceramic jars they had carried from the sect.

  Pengfei tied the nearby rope around the first of the vessels and lowered it carefully over the edge and down the cliff. Jar after jar went down, refilling the stores in the cells.

  In the short breaks, while waiting for the signal to retrieve the rope, Pengfei surveyed his surroundings nervously. Curiosity and anxiety eventually got the better of him, and he ignored his good sense, choosing to address Chen Ji during one of his obvious foul moods.

  “Is it safe to be out here, sir?”

  “What are you talking about, boy?”

  Undaunted by the elder’s curt tone, the disciple pressed on. “Isn’t the Mountain King still out here somewhere?”

  A sharp eye turned to examine Pengfei at those words. Chen Ji appraised him for a long moment, then looked back over the precipice.

  “Where did you hear that name?” the old man finally asked.

  “When we came back from the cliffs last time, I overheard the Sect Leader talking.”

  “You little sneak… You’re not supposed to know about him.” the elder grumbled but then continued. “The Mountain King isn’t a danger to us.”

  “He seemed dangerous to me.” Pengfei said, remembering his close encounter in the canyon. The near-miss while he fled atop Horse.

  “You saw him!?” Chen Ji grabbed Pengfei’s arm, nearly making the boy drop the rope he now pulled back upward.

  --Shit!-- Pengfei quickly groped for an explanation. Readily, the environment provided the fodder for his lies.

  “It was when I was still here in the cells, sir. I saw something at night, a shape on the cliffside. I didn’t say anything earlier because… well, I thought I was crazy.”

  A tense moment passed where Pengfei worried the excuse would not pass the scrutiny of the suspicious elder. He kept his eyes down on the rope, pulled it hand-over-hand back up the cliff.

  Finally, Chen Ji spoke again. “Yes, I suppose you would think that.”

  The danger of discovery passed, Pengfei continued his questioning. “Elder, what is the Mountain King? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “There is some species of leopard in these mountains. Different than what you might see in Shanxi or Gansu. It’s made for the cold. I don’t know what you would call it. An ice leopard. Snow leopard. The Mountain King is one of those, but larger.”

  “It’s … just a leopard?” Pengfei recalled the enormous size of the creature that had chased him through the valley below. The way it had sprinted across the mountainous ridges ignoring all impediments with the speed to match a horse at full gallop. “That thing can’t be a normal animal.”

  “When does a beast become a spirit beast?” The elder mused. “No one has observed it closely enough to be sure. We think of it as a single creature but it could be one animal, or several. Natural or supernatural. There are stories going back generations. Whether here or at our ancestral home in Qinghai. Sometimes decades between sightings. You were very lucky to have glimpsed him.”

  “Lucky… right.” Pengfei shivered, still feeling the rush of wind that had passed by as the Mountain King had leapt for him, coming so close in the dead of night. “Has it ever eaten any of Kunlun’s disciples?”

  “Enemies of the sect perhaps. Those damned bastards in black seem to have gone to war with him. We’ll never know who started that fight but rest assured the Mountain King got the better of the exchange. But I don’t recall any stories of him attacking a member of Kunlun.”

  Pengfei took the rope and wrapped it around the next jar of water, then proceeded to lower it to Jin Fan below. The ceramic bumped the cliff face in places, scratched against the stone, but did not break before a hand reached out from the cave opening to take the weight.

  --I almost made history. Could have been the first disciple of Kunlun to get himself eaten by a giant snow leopard.--

  He was back to that night, riding Horse, head bowed against the wind. Hooves thundering. Stealing glances back behind as he fled the impossible creature.

  Chen Ji seemed to recall something, picked up the dropped thread of conversation once again. “Just never run from him. When prey flees, it is natural for a predator to chase.”

  “Ugggh.” Pengfei groaned at the advice that could have served him so well if he had heard it earlier. Then, sensing the elder give him a look, he remembered his manners.

  “Thank you, sir. That’s… that’s good to know.”