The sturdy frame of the Sect Leader loomed over Pengfei. The door to the Dining Hall closed as Chen Ji and his charges exited, and with that, the last buffer between Pengfei and the sect’s patriarch disappeared. But the stern man softened slightly once they were alone.

  He sat across the table from the disciple and asked kindly, “How have you been settling in? I don’t think I’ve spoken to you since the day you arrived.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Sect Leader. It was a little rough in the beginning, but I think I’m adapting.”

  “Very good.” The old man nodded ponderously.

  --Is he just checking in with me? Am I in some kind of trouble?--

  He racked his brain. Aside from the transgressions that had landed him in the cliffside punishment cell, he could not think of any serious infractions.

  --Poor attitude? Lackluster martial arts? Both victimless crimes, that can’t be it.--

  “You came here by horseback, I believe?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And I hear that you are the only one who has been able to ride the horse down in the valley below. The one that the disciple from Qingcheng… left behind.”

  Pengfei winced at the memory of his dead friend. --Ma Feng…--

  After a moment collecting himself, Pengfei said to the Sect Leader “No one else has been able to ride her? I guess I’m not surprised, she’s a stubborn one.”

  He chuckled quietly, recollecting his time spent with the horse he had named…Horse.

  --She is a hardass.--

  “It’s not just the attitude of the animal. None of the other Jin disciples have ridden before. Even for us elders, it has been decades. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. You may have noticed, we didn’t ask too many questions about your background. I don’t want to pry now but I would like to know, exactly how much experience do you have with horses?”

  Pengfei perked up, both eager to converse one of his strong suits and simultaneously nervous to be discussing something so close to his past.

  “My family was … involved in the horse trade. Peripherally. I’ve spent my entire life around them. I may not have ridden as much as a Mongolian nomad, but close.”

  “And caring for them? Breeding? Herding?”

  “Some acquaintance with all of it. I wasn’t a herdsman or a groom, but I at least know the basics.”

  “Excellent.”

  The Sect Leader smiled briefly, processed the information from the disciple, then delivered his pronouncement.

  “Pengfei, in the spring, you’ll go north to Xinjiang and purchase a small herd. We’re going into the horse business.”

  “Hahaha…” Pengfei chuckled, but seeing the Chen Hongzhang’s unwavering expression put an end to the humor. “Wait, are you serious?”

  “Historically, we provided protection to merchants travelling along the Desert Road. But that will stretch us too thin until we recover our numbers. We need something more centralized. And there is always a demand for quality horses.”

  “Elder, no – “

  --Where do I even begin?!--

  It was disorienting, seeing such a bad idea come from the mouth of someone with such authority.

  --It can’t be… is he actually an idiot? No, right?--

  Pengfei had encountered foolish adults in his life, but they were generally easy to spot. And Patriarch Hongzhang did indeed project an air of confident intelligence. Still, the disciple felt it necessary to point out the errors in the man’s thinking. He rattled off the most apparent obstacles while counting on his fingers.

  “Sir, thank you for your confidence. But first of all, I’m unqualified. I know a little bit about keeping horses, but not enough to run such a venture. Second, I’m just one person. The number of animals I could manage…it wouldn’t be enough to be worth the trouble. Third, we don’t have the land. Fourth, we don’t have the feed, Fifth – “

  “Pengfei, that’s enough.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I appreciate your honesty.” The Sect Leader stood and motioned for the disciple to do the same. He spoke calmly while escorting the boy to the door of the Dining Hall. “Right now, we’re just taking small steps. You’ll go and buy just enough horses to teach the other children how to ride. Thirty or so? You can teach them in shifts when the weather turns warm again. When it’s time to return to the Central Plains, we’ll buy a bigger herd. By then, you’ll have trained a staff to help you, and we’ll have all the land we need in Qinghai.”

  “I’m still not the right person for – “

  “You’ll do fine.”

  “It would take – “

  “You have months before spring comes! Plenty of time to figure out all the details.”

  Chen Hongzhang slapped Pengfei’s shoulder merrily, pausing at the door of the hall. It was a friendly but authoritative order to cease all argument.

  “Start drawing up plans and keep me updated.” The elder shuffled Pengfei out into the cold and closed the door behind him. The young man gaped in residual shock.

  --There’s no way this is going to work. And when it goes to shit, I’ll be the one to blame.--

  Pengfei huffed, daunted by the task before him.

  --Still, I guess it gives me a bit of freedom. Nothing to do until spring except figure out the details. Definitely better than working under that psy…--

  The door to the Dining Hall opened again and the sect leader stuck his head out. “Pengfei, I almost forgot. While you’re in the sect, you’ll be under the supervision of Chen Ji in the Discipline Hall. Wouldn’t do to have a disciple just wandering the sect without a care in the world, after all. You should hurry and join them.”

  The Patriarch disappeared again, as quickly as he had dashed Pengfei’s little shred of consolation.

  “…Son of a bitch.”

  Pengfei oriented himself. He could only assume that Chen Ji and the others had headed to the Discipline Hall, so he made his way in that direction while pondering the immediate future.

  --I like riding well enough, but all the other work that goes into horses is just a pain in the ass… I don’t want to shovel shit and castrate foals…--

  He passed the Scripture Hall. He couldn’t see inside but imagined Chen Weidao giving meticulous instructions on the proper way to dust the bookshelves.

  --Seems like a good fit for Neng actually. Lucky bastard.--

  To Pengfei, the library offered not only physical comfort but also intellectual stimulation. He was still working his way through the tome that Elder Weidao had lent him, and there were dozens more to texts to captivate him once he finished ‘The Nine Chapters of the Mathematical Art’.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  --I wonder if I’d be studying for an imperial Exam by now, if I had stayed in Sichuan? The Confucian doctrines would have been pretty dry, but I’d have enjoyed the math…--

  He recalled old dreams, passing the regional qualifiers, the capital and palace exams, and becoming a scholar-official.

  --Would have been nice to use my mind a bit, instead of living as a martial artist. And a horse trainer, apparently.--

  He shuffled reluctantly onward, came around a corner, saw Chen Ji and the other disciples gathered in front of the Discipline Hall.

  “ – and so you’ll need to practice a variety of – Oh, Jin Pengfei, has finally decided to join us. You’re late, boy.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, I was speaking with – “

  “Quiet. I don’t need excuses. Run the mountain path later. I suggest you do it at the midday meal. It’ll be too dark in the evening.”

  --Ahhh….great.--

  “You see the look on Pengfei’s face?” Chen Ji asked the other assembled disciples. Pengfei immediately balked, then tried to compose himself as the elder went on. “That’s what we’re fighting against. The disciples of the sect get a little discipline from the elders of the sect, enforced by us. And in their childish bitterness, they think that is all the Discipline Hall is.”

  Chen Ji walked around them, his short frame projecting a powerful presence.

  “In good times, that misconception is not far from the truth. But in difficult times… who here knows the story of our sect’s punishment?”

  --Oh, might finally get some details…--

  Pengfei looked about, but none of his fellow disciples moved to answer Chen Ji’s question. After the silence stretched for several seconds, the elder continued.

  “A large group of us encountered a contingent from Kongtong as we travelled east. The exact details… well, what’s important is what happened after. The Wulin Alliance levied their punishment against us. Close our gates for fifty years. But the duty of enforcing the punishment was left to us, the Discipline Hall.”

  Chen Ji paused his circuit around them. He got a distant look in his eyes.

  “The night before the punishment came down, officially, the previous Patriarch excommunicated three quarters of the sect. A mercy for them. No longer welcome in the Jianghu, but they could live in the civilian world. The rest of us… it was my job to make sure those of us who remained abided by the punishment.”

  The elder looked out over the mountains. “Even after we secluded ourselves, it was hard to maintain discipline. Dozens. I brought back dozens of my brothers over the years, when they ran. And if they wouldn’t return…”

  The man gripped the sword on his hip unconsciously but said nothing else.

  --Does he mean…?--

  “And that’s what the Discipline Hall really is.” Chen Ji came back to himself, spoke louder now. “Protecting the sect from itself. When it is difficult. When it requires fighting against your own brothers, no matter how much you might sympathize with them. If the Sect Leader himself violated our dictates, it would be your duty to bring him to our justice.”

  A scandalized gasp went up from the disciples at the hypothetical.

  “That’s why you, more than anyone else in Kunlun, need to be strong.” The elder said, with a steely gaze and a hard edge to his voice. “So, I will see that you become strong.”

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

  The next day, Pengfei was able to sit with his three friends at lunch. They all arrived at roughly the same time from their new jobs within the sect. Before they could even start their food, they were joined by a few more familiar faces.

  “Hey, scoot over.” Nanxi said, the twins Tianwei and TIanxun following behind. “Where were you yesterday?”

  Pengfei nodded to his former enemy, turned occasional ally and friend, and made room on the bench for him. “Chen Ji made me run the mountain. How have you been?”

  “These two have been chatting my ears off.” Nanxi indicated the near-constantly silent twins. “How was the time at the cliffs?”

  “Great. Found a severed human leg.” Pengfei said through a mouthful of food.

  “That was you huh? The whole landside thing is bullshit, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Fantastic.” Nanxi nonchalantly changed topics and addressed the rest of the table, “What about the rest of you assholes?”

  “Why is he coming in so aggressive?” Shutian asked. Xiaotong draped an arm over his friend’s shoulders and jostled him kindly.

  “He just doesn’t get you like I do.”

  “And his sense of humor is fucked. I think we established that with the goat shit incident.”

  But the rest of the table contradicted Pengfei, chucking amongst themselves at the memory.

  “That was so fucking hilarious!”

  “I can’t believe you did that!”

  “What a dumbass.”

  When the laughter had died down, Nanxi nudged Pengfei with his elbow. “So, what job did you get?”

  “Complicated.”

  This drew a quizzical look not just from Nanxi, but the rest of the group as well. There hadn’t been much time to explain to his dorm mates yesterday, he had been tired after his first strenuous day under Chen Ji. Pengfei detailed the Sect Leader’s proposed enterprise and his role in it.

  “We’re going to learn to ride!”

  “I hate to damper your rare burst of enthusiasm Shutian but odds are, you aren’t learning anything. It’s too much for me to handle, I’m going to tell the Sect Leader it’s not possible.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “I’ll help. Anything to get away from Chen Rulan and the forge.” Nanxi volunteered his services and pointed to the twins. “They’ll help too. They’re keeping the books for the Finance Hall but I’m not sure they can even add.”

  The twins didn’t dispute the statement.

  “Count us in too.” Xiaotong spoke for himself and Shutian.

  “Hey, can you stop volunteering me for things?”

  “Relax, you’ll get to ride a horsey!”

  Shutian grumbled but was pacified by his friend’s teasing.

  With the nearly entire table volunteering to help him, Pengfei tried to make it a clean sweep. “What about you Neng, are you going to come get your hands dirty with us?”

  “I don’t think Elder Weidao is going to let his only assistant leave.”

  Pengfei nodded. “Too bad... It’s probably pointless anyway. No one is going anywhere if I don’t figure out a way to make it all work.”

  With idle speculation put to the side, the table resumed their meal. Afterwards, they walked as a group to the Veneration Hall. Neng split off from them at some point, but the rest sat in the lotus position on the floor to circulate their internal energy.

  For the first time since joining the sect, Pengfei was able to join his fellow disciples in their neigong practice. Previously, it had seemed to him an exercise in futility. Just a bunch of people sitting quietly in the dark. But now he could feel a subtle energy emanating from the others, a thrum of power. They were there, even when he closed his eyes.

  Pengfei reached into himself to find his qi and located it quickly. The small particle of light was where he had left it, in his dantian. It was still rebellious and unyielding to his will, today more than usual. He breathed deeply and tried to complete one revolution of what ‘Mystical Heaven Infinite Skill’ termed the Great Circuit. However, the qi was lost in the jagged darkness of his meridians.

  Chen Mo, the decrepit old master of the Veneration Hall, made his way up and down the rows of disciples. Pengfei heard the man’s footfalls but was unperturbed by them. Before, the elder had called out his failed attempts at neigong. But now he was truly cultivating; he should have no need to fear that particular embarrassment.

  The footsteps stopped behind Pengfei’s shoulder.

  --You’ve got to be kidding me.--

  “What are you doing?” The elder’s voice asked.

  “I’m – “

  Before Pengfei could finish, Chen Mo interrupted. “Stop mucking about. Focus.”

  “Yes, elder.”

  He had to admit, the old man was right. There was discomfort in the background somewhere, disquiet. There was a buzzing in his mind and a tension in his chest. Pengfei searched for what it was, something he had thought of momentarily and half forgotten. Not the obvious anxiety of having to buy and manage a herd of unruly animals for some half-baked business venture.

  Something else.

  Chen Mo moved on as Pengfei tried to find the source. He though back over the week again and again. On the third or fourth lap through the events of the past few days, it popped out to him.

  In their conversation, the Sect Leader had alluded to Feng. It had brought back a surge of memories from his time spent on the road with the Qingcheng swordsmen Zeng Zihao and Ma Feng, dead at the hands of the black-clad men.

  Pengfei was still touched by the sadness of it all but he had finished his mourning. This wasn’t about his sadness. It wasn’t guilt either. He had come across the Qingcheng sect at a time when he needed an escape and they needed a messenger. The two parties had used each other with no illusions about motivations. Any sense that he had gotten his friends killed had faded with the initial sting of their deaths. But there was something there…

  The message.

  The words he had been tasked with delivering to Kunlun. The reason Qingcheng had escorted him in the first place.

  When Chen Hongzhang had brought up the memories this morning, Pengfei realized it had been months since he thought of the message. It had taken him a minute of stumbling through his mind to recall the names.

  Luo Nianxin of Shaolin. Liang Deliang of Kongtong. Song Weixiong of Zhongnan. Nangong Zhiqiang of the Nangong Clan. Xiao Xingchen of Emei.

  He had almost forgotten some of it.

  --Is it okay to forget? I delivered the message to the elders of Kunlun. There was nothing else I was supposed to do. So… is it over?--

  The message had been delivered, but its meaning never revealed to Pengfei. He had escaped the immediate threat of the thin-faced man, and the killers in black, but they still roamed the mountains.

  --I did everything I was supposed to, but I haven’t decided if I want to take it farther.--

  It was a decision Pengfei felt he had to make eventually. Leave the mysteries alone or dive deeper into them. Seek revenge for Ma Feng and Zihao or not.

  Forgetting the message would be fine, if he decided to stay out of it all. But he hadn’t made that choice yet.

  --Seeking revenge? I’m not equipped for it. Those bastards were strong… But maybe I could get there, eventually. --

  --Eventually.--

  That word was the crux of it. Realizing this, Pengfei knew what was next. With a weight removed from his conscience, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The spark of his internal energy leapt to his command as he focused with an easy mind.

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

  Late at night, after a grueling day of training, Pengfei walked alone through the grounds of the sect. His body ached in new and unpleasant ways, a result of the new training regimen. His eyes were heavy. But he knew that this was something that could not wait another day.

  He reached the Scripture Hall and slid back the door. Dark. But he could find what he needed without light. It was there, on the corner of the table where Chen Weidao worked at transcribing copies of the old and mistreated books of the library. Pengfei grabbed it and left the way he had come.

  He hurried back towards his dormitory. He didn’t want to be seen where he was not supposed to be, didn’t want to answer any questions. He reached the bunkhouse quickly but sat against the wall outside it.

  The biting cold winds of a coming autumn in the desolate mountains stung at his face and hands. He wanted to hurry inside for the warmth of his blanket. But first he would do this.

  Light still spilled out of the dormitory. The disciples had just returned from the last meal of the day, joked and caroused with each other inside. They would not extinguish their lamps for a while yet. Pengfei needed their cast-off glow.

  He flattened the blank paper he had taken from the Scripture Hall on one of the paving stones that surrounded the building. He knelt atop it to keep it from blowing away, took a brush from his coat. He mixed some ink in a little dish and wrote with a steady hand in the dim light.

  --Luo Nianxin of Shaolin. Liang Deliang of Kongtong. Song Weixiong of Zhongnan. Nangong Zhiqiang of the Nangong Clan. Xiao Xingchen of Emei.--

  The names were committed to paper, protected from the whims of human memory. He wrote down everything he could remember about the day he had arrived at Kunlun. The men in black.

  One man lost his arm to Zihao’s sword. A name had been shouted, Pengfei had barely heard it as he approached on the fight on horseback. Guoyu? A thin-faced man, their leader. The clash thin-face had with Elder Weidao. The things the strangers had said.

  Pengfei noted his encounters with the black clad men that had come after that day. The men he had met in the valley after retrieving Shutian from his flight away from Kunlun. They had called the Kunlun disciples ‘invaders’.

  The severed leg, still in its black clothing, in a cave on the mountain trail.

  With the last detail down on paper, Pengfei blew softly against the wet ink. When he thought it was dry enough, he folded the page and held it in his palm.

  Into the dormitory, into the laughing and roughhousing boys. He found his bedroll and his few meager possessions stuffed in a canvas sack. He inserted the page deep into the bag with the rest of his belongings. With that accomplished, he laid on his thin bedding.

  --That’s done then.--

  He felt… reassured?

  --In three years, when Kunlun returns to Qinghai. When I’ve had a bit more training. That’s when I’ll make up my mind. Whether to try and take revenge, whether I care about the message from the Qingcheng sect. Whether I stay at Kunlun at all, I guess.--

  A dirty rag landed on Pengfei’s contemplative face. Thrown by Jin Nanxi, who laughed uproariously nearby.

  “You son of a bitch!” Pengfei half screamed and half laughed. He stood to chase the other disciple, leaving his worries written on paper and tucked in his bag.