Masters of Shaolin II
You sincerely hope that Xuxian is prepared. He is standing in the middle of the largest square in the temple, awaiting the arrival of the Eighteen Arhats.
“I hope this fight was worth the wait outside,” says Yunzi, still sulking from being left out. You had obtained special dispensation from the Abbot to allow the girls in, as it was not certain how long the trial would take. Fangci had seemed to appreciate your suggestion of a trial – you wonder if deep down inside he was hoping that Xuxian would indeed prove himself worthy.
Qilin suddenly sidles up closer to you, nestling her head against your shoulder, and Cao’er does the same from the other side. The young monks around you have given your party a wide berth, and from the tortured look on their faces they seem to be trying their best not to stare at the one-eyed man sitting there, surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women hanging off his arms.
“It might be better if you did not attract so much attention, Young Master Xu,” coughs Reverend Zhixing, one of the elders of the temple.
“Sorry, reverend,” you say, glaring at the girls. They must have done it on purpose.
Suddenly, the crowd of monks hush up.
The Eighteen Bronze Arhats have arrived. Dressed only in saffron trousers, every inch of their well-trained bodies have been painted with bronze. You are unable to separate them from a glance under all that paint, and they take up their positions wordlessly in front of Xuxian.
Being the junior monk, he offers them a bow. They return it respectfully.
“If he remembers the strategy, these monks will not be too much of a problem,” says Xuezi.
“Let’s hope he does,” you sigh.
A gong is rung to signify the start of the trial.
Xuxian slides into a defensive posture and remains still. After a brief wait, realizing that he was not going to make the first move, the Eighteen Arhats spring into motion. Unlike the more free-flowing formations that you have fought, the Eighteen Bronze Arhats Formation is fast, powerful, and overwhelming. Xuxian’s defensive stance is insufficient to ward off all of their blows… but he does not need to. You recognize his style of breathing – he is using Jinzhongzhao.
“The Taifeng Zhenyang neigong is well suited for this defensive technique,” comments Xuezi. “It would have helped him increase his understanding of Jinzhongzhao. He is not a master yet, but he is approaching that level.”
“In a similar way to how I gain other benefits from meditating on Wuxiang Qiankun?” you ask.
“Yes, in that way. As long as he remains calm here, he should be able to pick off the bronzed baldies one by one,” Xuezi shrugs.
Xuxian continues to hold out under their onslaught. Minutes pass before he gathers enough confidence to make the first move, perhaps having seen an opportunity he could grasp. He thrusts two fingers forward, shouting as he does so. An invisible force knocks one of the Arhats back. Taking advantage of the hole in their formation, he moves to attack, trading blows with the other monks using a Tibetan boxing style they are unfamiliar with. He fails to achieve a knockout blow, however, and soon the Arhat recovers and rejoins the fight… and the process repeats itself.
“I wouldn’t be able to use such a time-wasting tactic,” says Yunzi, concentrating on the fight. “I would… yes, I would obliterate the first target with overwhelming force at the very start of the fight.”
“You might fail for using too much strength if you don’t judge that first attack correctly,” you say.
“Well, they’re just being too strict, aren’t they? It’s difficult if you have to hold back against eighteen people at that speed and power.”
“That’s the point, Holy Maiden,” says Armaiti.
“What would you do?” you ask Armaiti in turn.
“I am confident in my defensive ability, like that monk over there. I also know a technique or two for shaking the battlefield up, so fighting multiple people is not a big deal for me,” she winks. “Still… this formation is not easy to handle. I must admit, I am impressed.”
You have to agree. The fighters are individually skilled, and it moves quickly enough that a single misstep would have you overwhelmed. You could surpass any single member in speed and power, but in aggregate, they would make for a fearsome foe. A straight fight would be difficult even if you were fighting to kill.
As the sun rises high into the sky, the Arhats step up the intensity of their attacks; understanding the sheer defensive strength of Xuxian’s Jinzhongzhao, they begin throwing attacks that would inflict real injury on an unprotected opponent. Xuxian’s breathing gradually grows more laboured, but he remains focused. He is still confident that they cannot harm him, affording him room to slowly whittle down their formation.
Then, six of the Arhats leap into the air, emitting killing intent. Xuxian’s head snaps towards them, his eyes wide open. For a moment you think he might lose his concentration, but at the last minute he jumps aside, avoiding their attacks. As three more approach him from behind, he clenches his fists and girds his body – they strike at his back with full force. Xuxian stumbles forward just slightly, unharmed. He grits his teeth, taking a deep breath, and lets out a loud yell, unleashing his massive qi. The pressure knocks his attackers off their feet. Stepping back, he does not follow up and returns to his defensive posture, sweat streaming down his face.
The Arhats do not attack. Helping their brethren up, they face Xuxian in a line, and bow. His tense face sags in relief at their action – it looks like they have accepted him. He has succeeded in passing this stage of the trial.
The audience murmurs, impressed by Xuxian’s showing.
After giving Xuxian a few minutes to regain his breath, the Abbot himself steps out into the square. Xuxian freezes up when he does so. Fangci shakes his head, and says, “Calm down, Xuxian. This is your last challenge. You must be tired from facing the Eighteen Arhats, and you did well enough against them, so I will use only one move while your mind is still fresh.”
Spreading his feet apart, Fangci loosens his cassock, revealing a heavily muscled and scarred body. He clearly did not get those weapon scars while meditating and training as a monk at Shaolin Temple… you wonder what curious past the Abbot has behind him. He takes one step forward and settles into a powerful stance, fists closed, and glares at Xuxian. Instantly, you feel an immense killing intent rising from Fangci that suffuses the arena. The younger monks back away nervously though the elders continue to watch on calmly. Xuxian lets out a little whimper, but remains in his stance.
“All you need to do is to defeat this technique without harming me,” Fangci speaks. “But if you cannot, I will kill you right here. My fist will run red with your blood. This is your final test. Can you hold back and show mercy to someone who would take your life?” All the while, his killing intent builds, honing and sharpening by the second.
Xuxian’s eyes dart from side to side, nervously looking for an exit to avoid taking the attack head on, but there is none. You can tell by his stance: Abbot Fangci has positioned himself in a way to seal off all of Xuxian’s possible exits with one simple footstep. The power gathering in Fangci’s body is nothing to laugh at either… you have no doubt that he knows how to defeat Xuxian’s Jinzhongzhao, should he want to. That may make all the difference: while he was secure in the belief that the Eighteen Arhats were unable to bypass his defensive skill, he fears that the Abbot is a different matter entirely. He would have to rely on something other than Jinzhongzhao here.
“T-this is scary. Is he going to be alright?” asks Yifang worriedly.
“There’s something off about this, but I can’t tell what…” mutters Lingshu.
“Oh, a child’s trick,” mumbles Xuezi uninterestedly.
You are not as dismissive as she is, but you have to agree.
Perhaps it is because you have spent so much time training with Zhang Jue, but you can instantly see through the trick. You instinctively realize that he has no real intention of landing a hit; unlike your master, who would gladly do it for real if you let him. Fangci’s projected killing intent is false: it appears fearful and oppressive, but it is nothing more than a mask.
You open your mouth to warn Xuxian, but the Abbot moves before you can say anything. Shouting loudly, his feet kicking off the stones, he covers the distance between him and Xuxian in a single bound. As he brings his fist towards Xuxian’s chest, the young monk screams, his eyes vacant. He raises both hands, fingers outstretched, nothing but fear and panic reflected in his expression.
The both of them strike simultaneously. Fangci’s fist stops just short of Xuxian’s chest, his sharp killing intent melting away into thin air as if it had never been in the first place. Numerous parallel red lines sprout along his arm and chest, as Xuxian retaliates with a cutting finger technique. He had regained control of himself just a little too late.
His expression a blank, Xuxian falls to his knees. He appears to be in a daze. The Abbot looks down at him, his bearded face inscrutable. The elders of Shaolin jump into the square, surrounding the both of them. Immediately, you leap to your feet, and rush towards them.
“Master Fangci!” you shout. The elders, upon seeing you, step aside quietly. It seems that they are content to allow Fangci to do the speaking.
“Yes, Xu Jing?” The abbot does not lift his eyes away from Xuxian.
“You… do realize that he held back at the last minute, do you not?”
Fangci rubs the bloody cuts across his arm and nods. “Yes. He would have taken my arm off otherwise. I almost underestimated the fear and anger inside him.”
“Fear and anger? Don’t you think it is unfair to be expected to repay murderous intent with mercy?” He did try to trick Xuxian into genuinely believing he would be killed. You did not think Fangci would have gone this far.
“Unfair? But this are the standards that we must hold ourself to,” says Fangci sternly, almost angrily. “It is easy to be gracious when you are in no danger at all. Far more difficult to show mercy when you are in true peril. To wield the neigong of the Xiaoming Jiuyang Divine Skill, one must aspire to be as a bodhisvatta. Wise monks more enlightened than any you see here have been led astray by the manual in the past. I see no reason to expect anything less.”
“Yet, he did withdraw his attack at the last moment. He did show mercy,” you argue. “He is not a lost cause, Abbot.”
“Yes, he did,” admits Fangci.
“So he should not be given a punishment as drastic as a permanent crippling.”
Fangci closes his eyes, and then, after what seems like an eternity, nods.
“No, he should not.”
“Then-“
“I still cannot allow him to go free. The fact remains that he did lose control. It would be too risky to let Xuxian be. No, he will be cloistered here, in Shaolin, to meditate in seclusion. We have precedent for that… Xuxian shall meditate for fifty two years, one year for each of the mental formations of Buddhism. He will not be allowed any freedom from the temple until it is complete, and his mind clear. Is that fair?”
“I… I would accept that,” mumbles Xuxian quietly, looking downcast.
Still, fifty two years… he would be older than Abbot Fangci when his punishment is complete.
“Is there no other way?” you ask.
“You seem very keen on setting young Xuxian free. Why is that?” Fangci asks, his gaze piercing.
You pull out a smirk – one of the cocky ones – “I just don’t have a taste for people being punished for almost failing a test.”
The Abbot’s eyebrow rises high. “Almost failing, you say?”
“Almost failing,” you grin. “He would fail if he did not hold back, but in the end, he did.”
“I suppose it is in how you look at it, isn’t it?” shrugs the Abbot. “But in the end, you are an outsider. Do you think your opinion has any weight here, Xu Jing?”
“Only when it seems to coincide with your wishes, it seems, as you were happy to go along with the trial, and with suggesting a more lenient punishment.”
“Hm. Quite the mouth you have on you there, boy,” snorts Fangci. He does not seem too keen on continuing the conversation further; as far as he is concerned, the matter is over.
“What if he wasn’t an outsider?” Xuezi speaks up suddenly.
Fangci stares at her. “You again, strangely knowledgeable little girl? What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, muscled baldy. The way for outsiders to gain respect as honorary members of Shaolin Temple without having to do that ugly shave that all of you baldy monks do!”
Fangci frowns. “That? The gauntlet?” The elders look at each other and begin whispering. They seem to know just what it is.
“Gauntlet?” you ask.
“Forget it, Xu Jing. It is too dangerous. You would have to defeat the Seventy-Two Wooden Mannequin Labyrinth of Doom, followed by the Thirty-Six Armored Warriors of Damo, the Eighteen Bronze Arhat Formation, and the Nine Venerable Shaolin Elders, before finally facing me, the Abbot, Master of Shaolin, all in a single day,” he says dismissively. “Any deaths and injuries on the part of the challengers will be ascribed to karma. The Abbot who designed it did not mean for anyone to ever pass the test... I believe he was just making a statement to the Wudang head of the time.”
“Oh,” you say.
***
A. You challenge the gauntlet because it is there to be challenged. It may also help you free Xuxian, if you succeed, and impress Shaolin Temple if you do it correctly. On the downside, it does sound particularly dangerous… but when has that ever stopped you?
B. You grab Xuxian and run, regardless of how he or Shaolin feels about it. You have no interest in the gauntlet, and you do not think he should have been considered to have failed the test in the first place. It is not fair.
C. You allow Xuxian to go into seclusion. Although the Shaolin monks will not to let you into the library, perhaps you can successfully sneak in during the aftermath of this trial. After all, you don’t want to come this far without leaving empty-handed.
D. You are perfectly fine with leaving empty-handed, and leave Shaolin Temple. You will head for Luoyang to figure out your next step.
