Greson Monk took it upon himself to disturb Seiskein Monk with the complaint that he no longer knew what to do with the little servant. Since he had fractures on his arm and two ribs, he could not do any of the work that required lifting or scrubbing, or anything! And he was now getting in everyone’s way!

  “So, leave him to heal up – then put him to work,” said Seiskein.

  “I can’t leave him idle for months on end. It would set a bad example – but I have nothing suitable for him to do,” said Greson.

  “So, what am I supposed to do about it?”

  “Think of something so he can be useful,” said Greson.

  “Hmm,” the tall monk stroked his beard. “Very well. Send him to me tomorrow.”

  And so Keihan reported to the venerable monk the next day.

  “I’ve thought of something you can do,” said Seiskein. “Follow me to the book-room.”

  “Yes, master.”

  “Now then,” said Seiskein Monk when they got to the library. “I’ve decided to reorder the books according to a new referencing system. I want you to take these books from these shelves to my room where I shall mark them up and then you are to take them back here and put them on the shelves according to the new system. There will be a coding for the subject of the book and the scholarship level and the era it was written. It won’t matter than you can’t read, because the coding will be according to a colour scheme and I shall mark this up on the shelves for your reference. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, master.”

  “Very good. Then begin with this section here, by the window, and continue along the wall that way. Don’t carry too many as to wear yourself out. If I am not in my room, then stack the books on my side table next to my bookcase and I shall deal with them when I get to them. I shall put the marked books on the table next to the door for you to take back here. Right, let’s get started shall we?”

  “Yes, master,” said Keihan. And the two of them took down a stack of books and carried them to Seiskein’s room.

  “Don’t bring too many at once, or I shall have no room in here. I can only mark up so many books in one day. So take it easy, all right?”

  “Yes, master.” This work did not look like it would take up much of the working day, and since Seiskein made no mention of what he should do with his remaining time, Keihan did not ask.

  Thus made a legitimate denizen of the library, Keihan came to observe that Junho would, every now and again, ensconce himself in the furthest recessed corner (where the Shaolin Form manuals were kept, which Seiskein Monk had told Keihan would not require coding). He also noted the titles of unfamiliar texts Junho carried with him on numerous occasions, such as Qh’i Kung; Meditations and Qh’i; Elemental Qh’i; Anatomy and the Essential Points of Pressure; and Theory and Practice of Tantric Focus.

  Mao sometimes helped Keihan reorder the books, and put them on the higher shelves he was unable to reach due to his injuries – when he wasn’t training hard to progress to the grey as he had promised his father.

  On one occasion, a group of boys led by Lingmon decided to cause trouble for the little servant by upsetting the books on his table. It so happened that Mao was not present, but Junho was nearby, and seeing this, he reminded them that this was a room for calm study, and ordered them all to leave. Then he helped Keihan reorder the books to be shelved. “Hey, thanks,” said Keihan, after the last book had been properly stacked.

  “Don’t mention it,” said Junho generously. “Um, remember when I, er, beat you up? Well, it was nothing personal, you understand?”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Keihan, rather bemused.

  “Um, so I’ll just get back to what I was doing,” said Junho and disappeared into the recess.

  Keihan carried on with his work while his thoughts danced through various passages of the sixty-odd Forms he had read and memorised. It was too bad he could not work through them with his body and so feel how each movement matched the mnemonic focus. He wondered about the books Junho had such interest in and made a note to find the library copy and see what they were about. Then he thought about the fact that Junho had shown … kindness?

  By the time the whole library had been reordered by the new referencing system, Keihan was fit enough to practice the Forms he had absorbed into his waking and dreaming thoughts. To begin with he decided to concentrate on the lighter Forms, such as One Element Webs, part of which emphasised the marshalling of air and wind energies. Thus he made the moonlit rooftops his training ground. Later on when the surface proved unable to support the forces of heavier Forms, he stole out of the temple into the night forest where there was plenty of room to practice and learn about Snarling Tigers, Iron Monkeys, and Shadowless Dragons, without fear of being discovered. There he could also move onto the deadly chaotic Forms like Two Elements Webs; Three, Four and Five Elements Webs; and the sixty-fourth Form, Changes and Transformations Without Number. He also spent much time wrestling to understand the nature of mind-states described by Tantra Dialogues. His endeavours during the night and the work he had to do for Greson Monk during the day proved a heavy toll on both his mind and body –

  One warm autumn afternoon, Seiskein Monk discovered him napping behind the statue in the library –

  The tall austere monk had thought it peculiar that there should be a mop in one of the statue’s sixty-four hands. He discovered Keihan curled up behind it. It was ten minutes before Seiskein managed to slap him awake.

  The dream –

  He had sixty-four arms – he was horrified – he knew not how to control them all – such weight pinning him to the ground – only two were his! the rest false! but he could not feel which two were his! all sixty-four arms moved – his legs! he could not feel them! he could not run! How he longed to run from the nightmare – trapped he could only stay where he was so he forced himself to embrace the nightmare and face – the horror which hit him – once … twice … each time one of the arms disappeared – until there were only two left. Then overcome with relief, he brought them together, palm to palm. But before they connected, light welled up between them preventing them from connecting however much he pushed. Then, horrors of horrors, the light started to split him in two. He was going to be ripped open and then made to see his beating heart. The thundering fear woke him –

  He scrambled to his feet and stood humbly. His cheeks burned –

  The tall monk in his yellow and red looked down at this boy who had profaned one of the revered statues. Seiskein gripped the offending mop and said, “What do you think you are doing?”

  Isn’t it obvious? Keihan forced the laughter back before it could erupt. He coughed. “I am sorry, master. It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t. Here is your mop.”

  Keihan took it from the monk. He made to leave but the monk motioned him to stay – so he stood politely waiting.

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  “May I go now, master?” said Keihan when the monk’s scrutiny was more than he could bear.

  “Yes … Try not to be so careless in future,” said Seiskein, and stepped aside. He watched the little boy leave the room and tried to analyse the feeling of oddness in his gut. After a few more minutes and still unable to pin it down, he dismissed it and went to the shelf where his books were.

  The next day he recalled the feeling of unease and decided to have a word with Greson Monk. But when he arrived at the kitchen and disturbed the blustery monk from his steamy pots, he did not know how best to bring up the subject; indeed, he had not yet convinced himself that there was one. So he dithered and asked the big monk what chores he had set the young chap. Greson started to list all the chores and provide a commentary on how each would fit into the day. By paying no attention to this, Seiskein collected himself enough to cut through the drone with the mention that he had, the previous afternoon, caught the boy napping behind the secret statue.

  “Oh,” said Greson. He did not resume his broken-off sentence. “Do you think that I may have overdone it and heaped on too many chores? Very well, I shall sort it out.” And he made a note to halve Keihan’s workload.

  Seiskein frowned. “It does sound like a lot. But the thing I meant to say is …”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “What I wanted to say is that, er, Greson – between you and me – do you think there is something wrong with the young man?”

  “Huh?” Greson scratched his beard. “What? Why do you ask?”

  “It is just that I – I’m not certain; how can any one be certain of any thing – but I think he is up to something.”

  “Why do you think that?” said the big monk. “None of the other servants complain that he is slacking in his chores so he can hardly have the time to be up to something. There was one time I caught him fishing in the river, but I soon put a stop to that!”

  “Oh! Well, that could be it then,” said Seiskein, and gave up trying to explain himself.

  “Glad to be of help,” said Greson and disappeared into his kitchen.

  ~~~

  Junho knocked on Cragon’s door.

  “Sihfu.” He bowed when the door opened.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m a bit confused by what I’ve read.”

  “What about?”

  “This book mentioned that it is possible to see Qh’i. Some sort of manifestation that can be seen with the eye,” said Junho. “I don’t understand it.”

  “How is your tantric focus?”

  “The focus? Are the two things connected?”

  “Of course,” said Cragon. “Come in, sit down.”

  When Junho had done this, Cragon continued, “All things are connected. When you increase your level of tantric focus, you increase your ability to sense things. It isn’t just the eyes in your head. It is also the eye in your thoughts. It is that,” Cragon pointed to his head, “more than this,” he pointed to his eye, “which sees the Qh’i in opponents. You need to be able to feel Qh’i within yourself and see how you can affect your surroundings with it before you can see it in other people.”

  “Right.”

  “So the more you practise, the more you learn, the more you attain a higher level.”

  “Right,” Junho nodded.

  “The Qh’i of a fighter is like a moving storm, a killing air which surrounds him. It is a force that can bind, and break apart. It is an indication of the level the master is at and sometimes it can be made to affect the unconscious thoughts of the uninitiated – indeed it can even be made to affect the initiated, but of course it all depends … Through this the perceptive may read his opponent and move to confuse him. It can be used to disguise weakness, and to empower strengths –”

  “What does it depend on?”

  “The relative strength of the persons’ willpower – and level of Qh’i Kung, of course. There is a fable that once upon a time, there was a master so powerful that even in sleep his Qh’i can kill any fly that comes near him. If you train to that level then you’d have no equal!”

  “How exactly do I set about training myself to see Qh’i? What am I supposed to do?”

  “Ah. It is like the thoughts that pervade you in combat when you calculate your moves. You change yourself to fit the need. The Qh’i is like the master’s second skin, an ethereal body, moving and changing as he moves. There is a flow to everything. Spend some time observing the temple masters. They have perfected their Qh’i and it will be more apparent in them. Try and see, for example, how the oven flames fan away from Master Greson. I don’t think he even notices it, but it is apparent because when he is not there the flames are different.”

  “I notice, sometimes, when Master Seiskein is in the library and his pages are rustling from a breeze, he just puts his hand out and they stop before his hand falls on them.”

  Cragon nodded. “Seiskein Sihfu does have a particularly powerful Qh’i.”

  “Oh?” said Junho. “Is he your sihfu? I thought you knew everything already.”

  “Oh no,” Cragon smiled. “I still have a lot to learn myself.”

  “It says in the book that this Qh’i can also be imparted to things outside the body.”

  “Yes.”

  “How does that work?”

  “I think that is somewhat advanced for you. Certainly there is Qh’i inside and surrounding all living things and you can train yourself to affect them. Also in healing, Qh’i is often imparted from the master to the wounded person –”

  “No, I meant in non-living things.”

  “Ah,” said Cragon. “I am not too clear on that point. I suppose, you could say that, some artefacts, or stones, or our temple statues even, are observed to gleam when great people, such as our very own temple masters, pass by them. I have never observed it! If it is the case that Qh’i is such that it can flow into artefacts, it certainly doesn’t stay there. It is a bit like putting water into a sieve – it flows out again.”

  “Right,” said Junho.

  “Let’s go to the training yard for a little demonstration,” said the monk. “A workout might help you to understand it better.”

  Junho followed his sihfu out of the room.

  On the way to the yard, Cragon talked nonsensically of Qh’i fables and mythology: the great temple masters of yore seemed to live on ether because once they attuned themselves, there seemed to be hardly any need for food. The abbot himself has so little appetite; the servants often speak of yet another barely-touched tray. But there is always a thirst. Water seemed to flow through them like water soaking through sand. That would, of course, be a problem, but they can, apparently, breathe in water out of the mountain mist and the night air. The energies of the body are changed by mastery of the art.

  There is a profound union of mind and body, soul and substance, totally and tantrically.

  “Now then,” said Cragon, when they found themselves a senior training yard. “I will demonstrate a selection of the Sixty Four Forms to show you different moves and Qh’i elements. Then you will have a go – try to concentrate on synchronicity of thought and motion.”

  After the workout Junho was sweating and breathing hard. Cragon was hardly affected. They sat on the stone bench while Cragon tried to explain further points. When Junho recovered, he said that in honesty, it was all a bit over his head.

  “Don’t worry, it will start to make sense before long,” said Cragon.

  “What is tantra? I’ve read Meditating on Tantra, but it’s all rather convoluted.”

  “Tantra is exercise such that you can more easily arrange your thoughts and see things differently.”

  “Oh, is that all? That’s … simple!”

  “So it seems! – if you think it prosaic then you haven’t thought about it long enough. You need to be able to see all possibilities at the same time and you must be able to do it at the speed of combat to achieve supremacy.”

  “If you put it like that it does sound hard,” said Junho.

  Cragon laughed and clapped the grey disciple on his back. Just then, Hing passed through the yard on his way to help Wai Sihfu put a bunch of new kids through their paces. He waved at Junho and cheerily asked, “Hey, what’s up? Learnt anything new?”

  Junho was too lost in his thoughts to notice Hing at first, but Cragon nudged him, and when the last question was repeated – rather awkwardly because Hing had meant the question as a greeting rather than a soliciting for a profound statement – answered, “I have just learned all about how much I don’t know …”

  Cragon beamed, “That is always a great start!”

  Hing smiled awkwardly and hastened on his way.