Mao resumed his studies of the Shaolin Forms and put the poisonous words of his father from his mind as best he could. Instead, he started to wonder at himself for not having tried to do something to help his friend out of his unbearable situation, in all this time. With the start of summer, he decided to speak to Cragon Sihfu about it. He found Cragon in the senior training yard having a boxing match with Junho. It was the practice for sihfu and disciple to box and this was an opportunity to test skills and regulate the body. Junho was a full head taller than Cragon, but it was clear that height was no advantage for him. Mao watched them box, identifying the Forms they threw off each other, until Junho wearied, and they stopped. Cragon noticed him, and Mao bowed obeisance. “Sihfu.”

  Junho bowed obeisance, and left the training yard. Mao watched him leave with narrowed eyes.

  “What is it, Mao?”

  Mao turned his attention back to the monk. “Sihfu, do you think it is possible for my companion to become a Shaolin disciple?”

  “Companion?”

  “Keihan. He works for Master Greson, but he came to this temple at the same time as me.”

  “Oh, you mean your servant from home! Yes, is it his wish to be a disciple?”

  “I believe so, sihfu.”

  “I shall speak to the junior sihfus and see what they have to say,” said Cragon. “Now, tell me, how have you been progressing?”

  “Very well, sihfu.”

  “How many Forms have you mastered?”

  “Er, about thirty.”

  “Ah, excellent. Do you have any questions?”

  “No, not really, sihfu.”

  Cragon nodded. “Shall we have a boxing match to test your skills?”

  “If you wish, sihfu.”

  So they boxed. After an hour or so, they stopped. Mao was exhausted, and after bowing obeisance went back to his room to recover, and swot up on another Form. Cragon was a little tired from having done two workouts, but was happy to know both his disciples were progressing nicely. But he was happiest knowing that Mao was truly gifted (just like his famous father). Junho was learning well and steadily – but Mao was rapidly catching up in mastery of the Shaolin Forms.

  In the afternoon, Mao went in search of Keihan, and was told by a servant that it was his habit to go for a walk outside the temple around this time.

  “Do you know which direction?”

  “No. Why don’t you wait for him? He usually comes back in an hour or so to start afternoon chores.”

  “Er, right. Thanks. I think I’ll go see if I can find him.”

  “Try the Grace Lagoon. That’s a nice spot for a walk.”

  Mao thanked the servant again and went off.

  Keihan was indeed at the lagoon. He was standing on the pebbled bank to the side of the waterfall and had spent the last ten minutes skipping stones across the calmest part of the water’s surface. He turned when Mao hailed him, and he put aside his black mood to smile a greeting. Mao told him about what he’d said to Cragon Monk on his behalf, and Keihan stopped smiling.

  “Why did you have to go and do a silly thing like that for?” he said softly.

  Mao was astonished. “But Kei, isn’t that what you want? To be a disciple?”

  “It was … but not any more,” Keihan replied.

  “Why? That was your sole purpose in coming to Shaolin wasn’t it? To learn martial art!”

  Keihan shrugged and skipped another stone.

  “What’s changed? What do you want now?”

  Keihan selected another stone and skipped it, and another …

  “What do you want?”

  Keihan did not reply, but continued to skip his stones and the black mood that had lifted momentarily descended and set more firmly than ever. When he ran out of stones, he turned away and went back to the temple, muttering that he had work to do.

  Mao was utterly confused.

  His father’s words whispered in his head, but angrily, he pushed them aside. He went back to his room to brood on the meaning of his friend’s strange behaviour.

  That night, he was still awake when Keihan finished his evening chores and came in to roll out his sleeping pallet, but he pretended to be asleep. His many thoughts churned and kept him from being able to nod off, and he was still awake when Keihan woke up from a brief slumber while the moon was still bright in the sky. He decided to quit trying to sleep and to ask Keihan again what did he want now – but when he turned over to do this, he saw the bedroll was empty, and heard the door creak shut.

  He jumped out of bed and hopped to the door pulling it open. He could not see Keihan anywhere –

  He went back to bed, and after a few more fretful hours, he managed to drop off. When he woke in the morning, he saw that the sleeping pallet was rolled up and returned to its usual place. His sleep had not refreshed him. His heart was disturbed. He wanted to force an answer out of Keihan. What did he want? And was it his habit to have walks every night as well? Now that he really thought about it, he realised there were many odd things about his friend …

  Hing happened to be passing his door when he finished dressing. They exchanged a ‘Good morning,’ and went to the senior dining hall to breakfast together. Keihan appeared briefly to supervise the servants. When he saw Mao, he smiled and said, “Good morning. Did you have a good night?” Mao looked at him sharply, and realised – with a jolt – was that mockery in the smile? But Keihan turned away and left the hall before Mao could be certain.

  Hing looked at the spot where Keihan had been in a funny way, and said, “Mao, this is going to sound strange, but has your servant always been like that?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Mao covering his uncertainty and confusion.

  “He didn’t wait for your reply. That’s a bit rude, isn’t it? Obviously, it’s not my place to say anything since he is your servant after all, but has he always been like that? I never noticed before …”

  Mao admitted that he hadn’t noticed it before either. They ate breakfast chatting about other things. There were about fifty grey disciples and they came and went as they liked. At one point, they noticed Junho breakfasting with his own little group.

  Hing wondered aloud whether Mao and Junho ever boxed together, to which Mao replied in the negative. Hing wondered which of them would win if they did …

  A few days later, Cragon sought Mao, and told him that he had spoken to Wai and Seiskein, and they both agreed that if Keihan wished, he could arrange a time with Greson, and start in the junior training yards. Mao thanked him, and wondered what he should say to Keihan when he next saw him. Having made up his mind to watch his friend more closely, he saw that he would disappear for a few hours in the middle of the night, and this led him to believe it must have been this way for a long time, and despite his best effort, Mao failed to follow him and discover where he went. And he also noticed the servants showed him extreme deference – just like the people at A Wayside Inn.

  After Cragon told him the news, he went to the kitchen yard and observed Keihan give a few orders before disappearing for another walk in the forest.

  Mao came forward and asked Lazuro to tell him something –

  “Yes sir.”

  “I’ve noticed … Lazuro, how is it that when Keihan gives an order, you servants seem to give it more care than when Master Greson gives an order?”

  “We always give care to an order, sir. Whether it is Master Greson who gives it, or his captain.”

  “No, I’ve noticed that that isn’t the case at all. When Master Greson says to do something, you all nod and then go about it in your own sweet time, but when Keihan says to do something, you all go about it immediately.”

  “Oh, I assure you that I treat orders from Master Greson and Keihan with equal importance, but as for the other servants, if they are more diligent when Keihan orders them to do something, then it must be because of the incident.”

  “Incident? What incident?”

  “You don’t want to know,” said Lazuro.

  “But I do –”

  “Trust me, sir, you don’t.”

  “But I do want to know,” insisted Mao. “Does he have some kind of hold on you people?”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “All right, I’ll tell you what happened. But I did warn you … briefly then – you know what an unpleasant task latrine duty is? This is where you have to put the dumps from the latrine into buckets and take them to the field terraces below. You’d have to take a bath afterwards because otherwise we’d never let you into the dormitory, and that’s tough in the winter and unpleasant in the summer, and anytime in between in actual fact. Anyway, about a month ago, the poor chap who had been doing it for the past two years got fed up of it, and told Master Greson that if he wasn’t given a different job he’d quit. So Master Greson gave him a new job, but that left the problem of who to assign latrine duty. As you can imagine, none of us volunteered. So Keihan said why not introduce a rotary system where everyone who is able should do it for a week, so he did it the first week, then on the second week, it fell to this guy named Mutley. He had always been a lazy fool, and he was unhappy about this, and he starts to argue with Keihan, who says that if he didn’t like it he could leave. So Mutley starts to do it, but he’s sloppy and grumbling the whole time, so Keihan tells him to stop and they go before Master Greson. Keihan then says to Master Greson to terminate the fool’s contract. I don’t think Master Greson would have done it straightaway because Mutley started going on about his poor old ma and pa … a real sob story, but Keihan explained that Mutley had questioned the method, and that being the case, it was simply not possible for Mutley to stay, so the poor fool had to leave and go back to his farm where no doubt he’ll be doing the same job – but for less reward.”

  Mao was shocked. “That’s a bit harsh!”

  Lazuro agreed. “Harsh but effective. Which of us servants would dare to argue with him now? It’s not worth our livelihood. Besides, all things considered, he never takes the piss like some people do. If he makes a comment about our work, it always stands to reason.”

  “Right,” said Mao, and after thanking him, he left the servant to his baskets of vegetables and left the temple to look for Keihan.

  He went to the lagoon and discovered him at the top of the waterfall, lying on one of the broad flat stones, staring at the sky. His head was cradled in his arms. His sandals were on the stone next to him, and one foot dangled in the rushing waters. When Mao hailed him, he sat up, and looked at him, but did not move, so Mao hopped over.

  “What’s up? – if it is to tell me that I may start in the junior yards, then I am not interested,” said Keihan lightly.

  “But it is the proper start,” said Mao, “how else are you to –”

  “I am not interested, because it is too late.”

  “Too late? For what?”

  Keihan sighed, and motioned Mao to make himself comfortable. “You asked me a couple of days ago what I wanted. I ask myself the same question every day, and every time, I have a different answer. What do you really want to know, Mao? Do you want to know what I want? Or what I am?”

  “I want to help you.”

  Keihan nodded. “Yes, I believe you do. But I’m afraid that is no longer possible.”

  “But why? What can –”

  Keihan made a motion for him to be silent, and then gathering his thoughts, he continued, “Mao, if you really want to know, then I’ll tell you. I can’t tell you what is in my soul, because I don’t know myself – but I’ll tell you what is in my mind of late, and what is in my heart …”

  Keihan picked up one of his sandals and after tugging at a stray bit of straw for a moment, replaced it neatly beside him and said, “Let me tell you a story … it has played itself in my mind several times in several ways …

  “There was once a great emperor, and part of his power rested with an assassin who would carry out his orders faithfully and without question. One day, the emperor realised that the assassin, who was much older than him, would most likely die before him, and he would lose the power of his support, so he asked the assassin to recruit and train a new assassin to replace him.

  “So the old assassin started a ninja school and gathered many young boys. Then he selected the most promising student and took him away to the mountains to teach him all that he knew.

  “In the first year, he taught the student The Way of the Empty Fist. The student worked hard, and was worthy of the old master’s teaching, and at the end of the year, the old master had nothing more to teach him about this type of combat.

  “In the second year, he taught the student The Way of the Empty Mind. With this method the student was taught to put aside his thoughts and train himself to act faster than he had ever done before. To act with instinct, and thus, no one would ever be able to defeat him, and he was the perfect soldier to send against enemies while they slept. At the end of the second year, the old master tested him and found there was nothing more to teach about this type of martial art.

  “So in the third year, the old master spent many hours every day talking to the student. They talked about many things, and the bond between them grew stronger, and at the end of the third year, the old master realised that it was time because the student had grown to love him, as much as he had grown to love the student. And the old man said, ‘Now is the time for you to learn The Way of the Empty Heart. It is quite simple. We will fight and if you manage to kill me then you will have mastered this and be ready to take your place at the emperor’s side. But if I should slay you, then you are a failure and not worthy.’ In skills, the old man and the young student were exactly the same, but the old man knew that being a perfect assassin was not about skills. It was about the determination in one’s heart …”

  “So who wins this battle?” asked Mao.

  “Does it matter? The old man could have won and be disappointed because he’d have to go and select another student and do the same thing all over again. And if the young man won, then … the result is one and the same.”

  Keihan lapsed into silence, and stared at the rushing waters for a while, then he said, “I’ll tell you what is in my heart … simply this – the secret scroll – that is what I want.”

  “What! But you can’t – you have to be –”

  “Be what?” Keihan looked at Mao with an easy smile.

  “You’d have to be Master of the Sixty Four –”

  “Oh … that,” said Keihan and indulged in a nasty snigger. He looked away for a moment, and then said lightly, “Tell me, Mao, which Form are you currently trying to master?”

  “What’s that got to do with it?”

  “Just … tell me.”

  “Alright. The Snake in the Grass.”

  “Oh?” Keihan laughed briefly, without humour, and then rose to his feet, beckoning to Mao to do the same. Then he said, “Does it go something like this?”

  He stepped backwards into the shallow waters, and went through five beginning motions of The Snake in the Grass.

  “Are you mocking me?” said Mao, when he had finished.

  “No, Maoi. I am not mocking you. If I wanted to mock you, I would have said, ‘Do you see this fist?’ to which you’d say, ‘Yes,’ and then I’d have struck you and said, ‘Well, you didn’t see that coming’ –”

  Keihan pointed to Mao’s lower abdomen, and said, “The Snake in the Grass – that is where the centre of motion moves from. If you later learn to use the element of earth Qh’i, this centre of motion can move in an arc to the left or right and thereby extend the range of your strikes. When you learn The Water Snake, you can make use of the water element of Qh’i to move your centre of motion along the whole length of your body and thus increase your reach even further. The strikes of The Water Snake are lighter, but it is swifter, and has greater flexibility and is almost unpredictable. It is faster than the untrained eye and more numerous. It can be deadly accurate if targeted at certain points of your opponent’s body. I am not mocking you, Maoi. I am telling you what I know. I am making it perfectly clear to you what I am – a Master of the Sixty Four.”

  “But that’s impossible!”

  Keihan chuckled. “Really? Then why don’t you try and hit me?” He raised his right hand in front of him with practised ease.

  Mao stared at Keihan for a long moment wondering if this was an elaborate joke, and then biffed Keihan’s raised fist.

  Keihan was annoyed at the lightness of the punch, and said, “For once … take me seriously will you. Hit me!”

  Mao did, but it was a pitiful attempt, and Keihan struck back with a certain degree of anger – shocking Mao into a backward step. Keihan’s left palm did not touch him, but he felt the wind behind it and it chilled his bones.

  “Try the first Form,” said Keihan.

  The Sweeping Willow. Mao took up his stance, and used what he had learned to try and upset Keihan’s balance, but he got nowhere near. Keihan danced away with a lightness that was breathtaking.

  “The second Form.”

  Mao obeyed, and struck – at least, he tried to, but it was impossible – Keihan’s defence was perfect.

  “The third Form.”

  Keihan dodged and when he didn’t, Mao discovered that hitting Keihan’s block was like hitting an unmoving mountain. The Moving Bamboo Forest Standing Still – a Form that made use of the Qh’i energies of water, wind and earth. Mao could not get through his defence, and while Mao splashed through the shallow water, Keihan was perfectly balanced on its surface. Not once did Keihan strike back. He didn’t need to –

  Mao discovered he did not like the superior undertone –

  He recalled some passages he had read in One Element Webs, and stoked up a harsh ball of flame energies to throw at Keihan with his next strike –

  He was pleased at the surprise in Keihan’s face, but then a wall of Qh’i sprung up taking a sheet of the shallow waters up between himself and his opponent. The flame energies died, and he felt himself struck backwards by a fist to his chest. He lost his grounding, and went over, helpless as a stone –

  “Oh crud!” exclaimed Keihan, as he powered down his Qh’i hastily, and leapt over to grab hold of Mao before he splattered himself on the rocks below.

  Mao was cold to his touch, and setting him down, Keihan applied pressure to his points at the sides of his chest and below his heart, and then placed a palm on his chest to transfer warm energies through, followed by cooling energies. Mao slowly felt his lungs cool down so he breathed easier; his racing heart took on a steadier beat and stopped hurting, and the pressure left his head and his ears. Keihan tapped the internal gates closed, and then taking his palm away, he brought his own Qh’i to repose.

  “Idiot! You really should not attempt webs of flame like that without first learning to keep either Qh’i energies of the wind or water element in reserve,” he admonished, “… I suppose if you have no talent for either of those webs, you could use the earth energies. Didn’t your sihfu tell you it was dangerous?”

  “How … wh – how!”

  “How what? How did I learn? How long? How much?”

  “How – anything!”

  Keihan turned away – tired now of all the explanations – and walked along the pebbled bank. He stooped to pick up a handful of stones, and then, began to skip them across the water …

  Mao watched him, and was astonished at this bleak mood – don’t be so stupid as to think he doesn’t have claws – it was remarkable how alike to Aramond he was – of the same pod – the same coin … Mao grew fearful – not for himself, but for his friend – if the monks should discover him … what would they do –

  Mao ran over to him. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

  Keihan smiled, and tossed another stone. He no longer cared whether the stone skipped across the surface to hit the other bank, or simply plopped through the water.

  “Are you going to leave now?”

  “No … not until I lay hands on the secret scroll.”

  “But … but,” Mao could not find the words to express his fear, the horror at what his friend was thinking of attempting – had been attempting for – how long?

  “It is somewhere in that temple, and I will find it sooner or later –”

  “But, what if it is a secret that is passed only between monks?”

  Keihan darkened, and his hands dropped. The rest of the stones fell to the pebbled bank.

  “You must come with me to speak to Cragon Sihfu. There may be a solution to all this!”

  “No! Let me go!” said Keihan, pulling his arm away. But Mao was relentless, and pulled at him.

  Finally, Keihan said, “All right! But let me get my sandals.” So Mao let go, and Keihan leapt up the waterfall to where he had left his sandals. When Mao climbed up, Keihan was nowhere in sight –

  Furious at this duplicity, and with much to think on, Mao returned to the temple, but did not see his friend again, until the door of his room creaked in the darkness of the night.