In the morning, Mao stopped Keihan from leaving the room by placing himself in front of the door before Keihan could leave. There was a tussle. Mao was determined that Keihan put an end to his unbearable situation and by degrees, he made Keihan see that he simply could not carry on as before.

  Thus, having provided a bit of entertainment to various grey disciples in the vicinity, Keihan consented to trudge behind Mao and they made their way to Cragon Monk’s room, where Mao knocked –

  The door did not open immediately, but the boys heard voices inside, and so they waited. After a few minutes, Junho opened the door, and after bowing obeisance to Cragon, stepped out. The two boys stood aside, then Mao greeted his sihfu.

  Cragon smiled, and asked him, “What is the reason for this morning visit?”

  Mao entered the room, pulling Keihan behind him, closing the door to Junho’s curiosity.

  There was a moment of awkward silence. Neither of the boys wished to start –

  “Is there a problem with the book learning? Or a problem with your companion?”

  “Yes, sihfu. The problem is Keihan. Er … the trouble is that he doesn’t wish to start with the little six-year old kids in the junior yards. And, er, you see how it is – he’s not a little kid anymore, so – do you think it may be possible for him to follow a sihfu instead like the senior disciples? I’m sure he will get up to speed quite … rapidly, and I’ll help him on … anything he doesn’t get –” He dug an elbow into Keihan’s ribs to stop him indulging in good humour at this inappropriate moment.

  “Indeed,” said Cragon, a bit astonished. “I’m sure that can be arranged, but I’ll have to speak to the other monks, and possibly the abbot … Mao, could you step outside a moment, I wish to speak to Keihan.”

  “Yes, sihfu,” said Mao, and stepped out of the room closing the door behind him. He saw Junho there, and frowned. “What do you want, Junho?” he could not help asking.

  “Nothing. The question should be – what are you and your servant up to?”

  “That’s no concern of yours!”

  The two grey disciples stared at each other for some time. Mao with his hands clenched, and Junho with his arms casually folded.

  “Do you know something, Mao? Your servant once said to me that you were not my enemy.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I wondered for a long time what he meant. Do you remember our last … disagreement? I meant to do you a lot of harm, but he stepped in the way –”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “He’s not really your servant is he?”

  Mao was relieved from answering – Cragon’s door opened, and Keihan, much paler than before, stepped out and closed the door behind him. Then he took a step, and stumbled.

  “Hey, are you alright?” asked Mao, catching hold of him. Junho caught his other arm.

  “What did he ask you? What happened?” Mao asked.

  “Nothing. He just asked me a bunch of stupid questions about my family. I told him what I knew, the little of it there is … and that stuff you told Seiskein on the first day – I don’t quite remember –”

  “So, did he agree to let you be a senior disciple?”

  “No … he said … some kind of hearing first, but …” Keihan shook his head and mumbled in a dazed fashion.

  Junho interjected, “Here Mao, take my book. I’ll carry him back to your room. He needs to rest.”

  Mao did as Junho had ordered, and Junho picked Keihan up easily. “Hah, he’s as light as anything. And you say he’s asking to be a Shaolin disciple?”

  “Yes. That’s what he wants.”

  “Huh? I’d hardly think he’s strong enough.”

  “Oh, he’s strong enough, believe me!” Mao stated as he followed the taller disciple back to the senior residence.

  They arrived at Mao’s room, where Junho laid Keihan onto the bed. He was unconscious.

  “Huh? I wonder why he’d collapse like that,” mused Junho.

  “Probably overworked,” said Mao. “Thank you for –”

  “Do you know what, Mao? I don’t think he is afraid of anything.”

  The two grey disciples stared at the sleeping boy.

  “You know something? … this could be because Cragon Sihfu tested him with his Qh’i. Sihfu does that sometimes. He likes to know how far I’ve progressed with Qh’i Kung, and when we have our boxing matches, I can feel that is what he is doing.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Yes. That could be it. You know when you gain mastery of the Sixty Four Forms, the energy levels of your Qh’i also increase and this allows you greater mastery, and so on and so forth. Sometimes, Cragon can just test this – this internal energy, and know how far you have progressed. But that can be quite draining. I’d rather just have a plain old boxing match.”

  “Oh,” said Mao. And nothing further –

  “My book,” said Junho softly. Mao gave it to him.

  Junho turned to leave.

  “Wait,” said Mao. “Thanks.”

  Junho nodded. “You are welcome,” he said. And left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

  ~~~

  “He’s quite wrong, you know,” said Keihan, when he awoke about an hour later.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “What?” said Mao. He was at his desk, staring at, but not taking in any of the words of the Form manual in front of him. He turned around to look at Keihan, and saw he had been weeping silently.

  “He’s wrong. I am afraid of many things … regrets, for instance … the pits of my soul …”

  “Are you talking about what Junho said? I thought you were asleep.”

  “I was, but not deep. I heard what he said … in my dream –” Keihan wiped away his tears. “In the dream, there was the hearing … there was much talk, and many truths were discovered … and at the end of it, there was nothing … they took away all the martial art I had – I was still me, but it was a paper-thin ghost image –” And Keihan drew a shuddering sigh, “– and then I saw grandpa –” Here he smiled. His dark eyes were wide and deep, capable of expressing his every emotion and intelligent thought, if he so desired.

  Then he stopped smiling and became serious –

  He looked at Mao, and continued, “I’ve learned something about myself. I’ve learned that I’d rather live a brief life full of hope and wonder, than a life of long despair and nothing – if that is the only choice given me. I suppose I have you to thank for that!”

  Keihan unfolded himself and stepped lightly to his feet. “I’d better go and speak to Master Greson. He’ll be wondering if I’m ill or skiving.” He left the room –

  Leaving Mao trying to decide if Keihan had been thanking him – or spitefully apportioning some kind of karmic blame.

  Keihan found the big taskmaster bustling around the steamy kitchen, same as always, and Keihan called to him. Greson glanced from his scolding of a servant who was having difficulty knowing the difference between a carrot and a cabbage. A carrot had to be washed and peeled before it was chopped. A cabbage had to be chopped before it was washed. People simply do not enjoy having grit in their food! Keihan told the taskmaster he would wait for him outside the yard, if he could spare a moment.

  When the big monk came out of the steamy kitchen, Keihan was sitting on the step beside the wood chopping block. Keihan was staring at his shadow, and looked up when Greson’s shadow met it.

  “Will you sit down with me, master; I have something to tell you. The step has been brushed so it shouldn’t dirty your robe very much.”

  Greson filled up the step beside Keihan.

  “What is it, Keihan?”

  Keihan spent a long moment looking at the scudding clouds before he replied.

  “I think you should know, Mao Aramond has discussed with Master Cragon about letting me become a disciple. There will be some sort of hearing where it will be decided if I am fit to join the martial school.”

  “That is very excellent news, I am pleased for you.” The big monk smiled. “I shall put in a good word for you.”

  “I did not come here to ask you that favour, master. If I am to succeed, it will be with or without your help.”

  “Then you only came here to let me know that I might start to make my plans for your leaving my little world?”

  “Yes,” Keihan shrugged, “I suppose that is one reason. And –”

  “And?”

  Keihan looked down at his interlocked fingers. “Master Greson, I think you should know … whatever happens at the hearing or beforehand … I will remember you, and … your kindness.”

  “Tusk! Hush with the stupid talk – why, you are talking as if you will not be permitted into our fine school.”

  “I have to consider all possibilities. In any case – this is me, saying … thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “… Looking out for me, I guess.”

  Greson Monk clapped Keihan on the back a bit roughly and said, “Come on, you don’t have to say that sort of thing to me!”

  Keihan recovered his breath (which Greson had knocked out of him momentarily), and smiled. “Sure. Forget I just said that. But –”

  “Yes?”

  “If the hearing goes against me, then there’s no point staying. I shall go and seek other masters. So, you might as well know that as well.”

  “I will be very sorry if that happens.”

  “I know –”

  “But it won’t!” Greson got to his feet. “Now, back to work! The day lasts for no one!”

  ~~~

  Cragon was bemused.

  He took himself to the innermost sanctum where the abbot spent much of his days meditating, away from the rest of the temple. He asked to speak with the abbot, and waited at the outer door while a grey-robed monk conveyed his request. After a while, the grey-robed monk reappeared and said the abbot would be pleased to see him, and led him through the garden courtyard to an inner doorway and then through a narrow passageway to the room of prayers where the ancient abbot was seated on a yellow silk cushion.

  There was a twinkle in the old abbot’s eye as he looked upon Cragon, as he took a seat on the mat before him. He waited for Cragon to speak.

  “I am troubled, your worship,” Cragon began.

  The old abbot said nothing, but smiled and waited for Cragon to continue.

  “There is a young man who started here as a servant a few years ago, and now he wishes to become a disciple …”

  “That is no reason to be troubled, Cragon.”

  “The trouble is that this young man has no desire to begin with the junior training … he is my disciple’s servant from home. He has been part of Master Greson’s work team for a number of years now, and my disciple says that it would be awkward for him because he is too old to be put among the small boys and that it would be better if he is made a senior disciple, but …”

  “But … you think that without junior training, it would be – impossible?”

  “That is one aspect of the trouble …”

  “This is not a problem if one of the temple masters is willing to accept him as a senior disciple. Would you be willing?”

  “I don’t know. I feel there is something strange about this boy. I sense danger, you worship.”

  “Oh?”

  Cragon felt unable to put his misgivings into words.

  “Perhaps Greson Monk will speak on this young man’s character,” said the abbot mildly.

  “Yes, of course, your worship, but …”

  “But what?”

  “I wonder if it is a good thing to allow this servant to become a disciple.”

  “Now now, Cragon, you should be the last person to say something like that.”

  “I did not mean that this young man should not be allowed a chance to escape the circumstances of his birth. But I wonder if he is strong enough to train as a disciple. I happened to test his Qh’i while I was questioning him, and it was unusually weak.”

  “Oh? But why is that a problem? No one is born with strong internal energies.”

  “I don’t know,” said Cragon. “I worry that the training will be too much for him, and then it might prove disheartening. A boy of his age should have much stronger internal energies. If his natural body is weak, then what good is it that he is made a senior disciple? I suggest a hearing to discuss whether this young man should be allowed to join the school, perhaps we can discuss all this then.”

  And so they decided on a time, a place and whom among the temple masters should be asked to attend. Cragon did not tell the abbot his true misgiving because he, himself, did not believe it was possible. The fear that the servant boy’s Qh’i was not the weakness of an untrained body – but the deliberately hidden Qh’i of a strongly disciplined master. He made up his mind to observe this young man more closely so that when the time of the hearing arrived, he would be better able to make a judgement.

  Keihan yelped as a stab of Qh’i from a silent quarter caused his skin to prickle and his axe-hand to slip while he was methodically chopping wood into neat sticks for the stoves. Seeing how close he had been to chopping off the fingers of his left hand, he put the axe down and spotted Cragon Monk observing him from the shadows of an archway. He stood up and bowed politely. “Master, is there a problem?”

  “No problem,” said Cragon. He coughed, and said, “I’ve come to inform you that the hearing will be in seven days time.”

  “Master Mao has already informed me of this, master,” said Keihan politely with another bow.

  “Oh, very well then,” said Cragon and stepped away. The boy’s Qh’i was so weak and unnatural.