The next day, Mao ran around the temple trying to find his friend. Someone suggested he might have fallen asleep in the courtyard, but he was not there. This was the day of his hearing! Where could he have gone! The grey disciples woken by this racket were then unable to return to their dreams.

  Junho dressed and came out to ask what the matter was. When he found out, he laughed, “So, despite everything, he’s too chicken shit to stay and face the hearing!”

  “What!” exclaimed Mao, dashing away tears of sorrow and fear.

  “Cowardly servant ran away, couldn’t face the hearing day,” Junho taunted.

  “You are mistaken if that is what you think,” declared Mao.

  “I bet! Too scared to face the monks and what they will make of him is what I’m thinking. And so the little punk runs away.”

  “Fuck you, Junho.”

  “Fuck you!”

  The two disciples exchanged insults and banalities, and then they exchanged strikes, which were of more interest to the other grey disciples who paused in their walk, or came out of their rooms, to observe the fight and identify the Forms and make remarks for the purpose of derisive laughing.

  – An excellent Eagle Strike – Adequate Iron Monkey – Excellent defence, well done that Mao – is that a One Element Web? The idiot! He can’t even control it – Doesn’t he know force doesn’t equal power? He should concentrate on accuracy – I’d say Mao knows more, but practised less – Call that a March of the Millipede? You’re supposed to do it using earth Qh’i, you idiot! Otherwise it is like playing on the string without the zither – He should go back to his farm! – Hey Mao, do you know what a farm looks like? – Thunder and Lightning Storm Strikes? More like Pitter-Patter Rain Drops to me – Fist of the Sea Titan? More like Meander of the River Dunce – I don’t think Junho can dredge up any more water Qh’i if he tried! – Hey do you think Mao is trying to kill Junho? – If he is, he’s certain to be severely disappointed, he’s hardly got any Qh’i behind his strikes – Was that an attempt at The Flying Crane? – No, that’s Junho inventing a new Form called The Flying Crap! – Do you think we should break it up now? – Nah, Junho’s got it under control – It’s cool –

  Cragon Sihfu arrived on the scene and the fight ended shortly after.

  “He started it, sihfu,” said Junho. “I gave my opinion on why his servant has disappeared, and he couldn’t take it and struck me.”

  “He couldn’t have run away just like that. He’d never run away unless he got what he came for. He gave me his word, and he would never break a promise to me unless something has happened. Maybe he has fallen somewhere and is hurt! Sihfu, we must search the area outside! Maybe he has lost his footing somewhere and he can be saved if we find him in time. It’s all my fault, I should have tried earlier to persuade the temple masters to let him join the school and be a proper disciple and then he wouldn’t’ve had to do what he did. And now, heaven knows what dangers he is facing. It’s all my fault. I should have told the truth from the start.”

  “You think he is a friend, Mao? He is a user and a deceiver. Forget him, he is not worth your worry,” said Junho.

  “You are wrong. It must be something else. Some other reason –”

  ~~~

  Cragon rushed to the library and there when he saw that the statue was intact he breathed a sigh of relief. The young wolf had not been able to solve the riddle after all and must have left as he had said he would – then he saw a large pool of blood on the floor in front of the statue. He did not know how to open the statue himself to see if the secret scroll was still inside and so with some alarm, he hurried to the abbot’s inner sanctum. The abbot was putting on his red and gold robes to prepare for the hearing, which he learned from Cragon would not take place after all, because the young man had disappeared. Cragon then told the abbot about his fears that the scroll may have been stolen, and blood had been spilled despite his best intentions.

  The abbot took his dragon ring staff from his grey-robed attendant and went with Cragon to the library to see the truth of it.

  The abbot looked at the scene and picked his way past the pool of blood to stand before the secret statue with the sixty-four arms. He knelt in front of it, and bowing his head, he placed his palms together and brought it into the gap between the two opposite palms that were mid-chest on the statue. He imparted a measure of Qh’i and the statue leapt into flame. When the flames died, it rolled open, and inside there was a little niche –

  “Is that how you open the secret statue?” exclaimed Cragon amazed.

  “Yes. How did you think it worked?”

  “I thought it was those two arms,” said Cragon pointing to the mid-chest palms that where directed outwards.

  “I see your mistake then. The first line of the riddle is that you should fall humble before the Sacred Heart –”

  “– I thought that meant the Sixty Four Forms fall humble before the secret Form.”

  “– It means that as well – but more to the point – if you assume that the statue is opened by force, then you’ll never adopt a humble attitude and pray with the whole heart. The riddle has many meanings – the literal, the metaphor, and the reflections of our inner selves.”

  The abbot took out the piece of paper from inside the niche and then closed the statue. He was thunderstruck. “Oh dear.”

  “What is it, your worship? Is this the secret scroll?”

  “Yes it is, and no it isn’t.” The abbot held the paper towards Cragon and said, “You see how the characters of all the Forms have been arranged on this sheet of paper and matched to its most efficient Qh’i energies and these insightful notations on tantric focusing mnemonics? That is basically what the secret scroll is. It is a deconstruction of the Sixty Four Forms reformed into the one epitome Form that has much greater power than the parts. This arrangement isn’t perfect, and it is clearly under revision, but it is one possible way of doing it if you are missing information, or haven’t achieved complete understanding of the Sixty Four.”

  “So this is the secret scroll?”

  “Yes. One iteration of it.”

  “What does this blood mark signify?”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The abbot was bemused. “That – presumably – is the young man’s blood.”

  “I don’t understand – he struck me as very determined to get the secret scroll. If he has managed to open the statue, then why would he leave it behind?”

  “Because this isn’t the secret scroll that was left here by the last temple master who made use of it. The original is in two parts. A bamboo part and a booklet part. On the bamboo part there are these same characters, but arranged in a more elegant and pleasing manner. And the booklet part explains how best the Sixty Four Forms can be made up into the secret scroll. Do you realise the significance of what I just told you?”

  “That this young man has indeed stolen our secret scroll?”

  “Yes,” said the abbot.

  “Then I must go and get it back.”

  The abbot sighed. “Come with me to my chambers. We have much to talk about.”

  When they were comfortable on low cushions and taking refreshment of tea from the tiny side table, the abbot remarked, “This piece of paper is the young man’s work. It is apparent that he is a highly gifted individual. He has an unerring instinct for things that most people would find difficult to comprehend and, given enough time, it is possible he might even be able to figure out the entirety of the secret scroll from studying the Sixty Four Forms alone. And then who knows what things he could achieve through greater understanding of what the scroll truly reflects. It is a great shame he was too impatient and did not wait to attend this hearing you proposed. I would have made him a white jacket disciple.”

  Cragon heard this and went green. “But this young man has an instinct for destruction. Surely this is argument for the opposite proposal?”

  “Which is?”

  “That you trash the knowledge he has already stolen so he can’t use it for evil. You’ve done this before to a predecessor who planned to use the Shaolin teachings for evil.”

  “I have never trashed anyone’s kungfu. I would never dream of such a thing,” said the abbot.

  “But I heard that there was a master who had it done to him and he jumped off the mountain in his despair.”

  “If you are referring to a certain master of some fifteen years ago then you are mistaken. He did it to himself. He learned the hard way that the secret scroll must not be used for destruction because if you have aggressive motives the scroll will simply turn them against you, and I fear this is the same lesson this unfortunate young man has just learnt. That is why we keep the scroll hidden as we do and have the riddle for you to solve. You can’t solve it until you have learned to control your inner demons and if you can’t control them then it is highly dangerous for you to try and master the scroll. This foolish master knew that Seiskein Monk had solved the riddle and stole the copy from his room, and when I explained to him his error upon finding him in much agony from having his internal gates destroyed, he descended into madness from which there was no return despite my best persuasions.”

  “But this young man has solved it! And his instinct for destruction is –”

  “Limitless? That is one of the qualities of a white jacket disciple. That and the capacity for humility and endless compassionate love – giving him access to the statue’s heart. That is the supreme paradox of the white jacket disciple. He is the most dangerous creature in the world, and at the same time the most vulnerable. In times of enlightenment, he is kindness and laughter, but in times of threat and tyranny, he is formidable and will do things that break his heart. He is a creature perfectly balanced between good and evil, resisting both forces in equal measure, beloved by both, and choosing neither – it has been so long since this temple has seen one of these creatures I have almost forgotten what one looks like. Now, I fear he may not live long enough to achieve the potential of his gifted nature.”

  “Then it is even more important that I go and find him.”

  “He is also a creature that should not be found if he does not wish to be found, Cragon – even if you did find him, there is nothing you can do to help him. It is beyond our power to restore him to what he was before the damage. Only he can do that when he achieves the perfect knowledge that is reflected in the scroll. If you go after him it will be for your sake rather than his.”

  “But the scroll –”

  “As for the scroll,” said the abbot. “I am sure it is quite safe because no one can understand it unless they have first studied the Sixty Four Forms. And I am sure that once this young man realises the value of it, he will return it of his own accord. And if he doesn’t, for whatever reason, I am sure we Shaolin Masters can put our heads together and construct another copy, and stick a ‘see me’ notice inside the secret statue in the meantime for the benefit of Masters of the Sixty Four wishing to start mastering the scroll. Nevertheless, if you wish, you may track him, but first, speak to your sihfu and see if he will take over the guidance of your disciples in your absence.”

  ~~~

  Mao was preparing to leave when Seiskein Monk and Greson Monk appeared and asked to speak with him for a moment –

  “Master Seiskein, if you have come to try and persuade me again to stay here and continue my studies, then I must say again that I cannot,” Mao said. “I need to go and find my friend.”

  “No, I haven’t come here to do that, although it is a pity. You have barely started your studies, which Cragon tells me were going rather well. He has already left the temple, and I am very sorry that you have chosen to do the same,” said Seiskein.

  “I need to find my friend and make sure he is all right.”

  “Of course you must,” said Greson.

  “The other reason I came is that –” Seiskein was at a loss for a moment of how to proceed, then he gathered himself, and said, “I must apologise. I have done your friend a grave injustice. I assumed … too many things … the result of which … I made a regrettable decision … and failed to recognise – I have … caused him much unnecessary suffering. I should have allowed him to enter the school at the same time as you. But it is too late for that, what is done is done and cannot be undone. We can only move on and make sure we don’t make the same mistake.”

  “I will tell him that when I find him,” said Mao.

  “Also, Master Greson and I wish to give you something to help you.”

  Mao looked at the tall venerable monk and the big gruff-looking monk, and was curious –

  “Can you turn around for a minute and sit down?” said Seiskein.

  Even more curious, Mao did as he was instructed. Then he felt a gust of warm energies flow into him from the palm that Seiskein placed on his back. The flow of power made him dizzy and it was only after the palm had been removed that he could collect himself and get to his feet to look with puzzlement at the venerable monk. “What was that?”

  “That was half of our combined Qh’i power. That is the most we could give you. We have less use of it here than you in your task ahead,” said Seiskein. “If Cragon must go chasing the unicorn before he can learn the length of his shadow – who am I to deny him the excitement? He should best take care of himself. You, on the other hand, are determined to find your friend and save him from himself. That I fear is more dangerous than you realise. Master Greson and I talked it over and decided this is the only thing we can do for you, and your friend. Give you this protection.”

  And saying this, the two monks departed before Mao could thank them for this peerless gift …

  And that is the end of this story.

  It only remains for me to confirm that Keihan had indeed solved the riddle and in his eagerness to grasp the secret scroll at once, began to marshal energies of such ferocity that he failed to control them. Having no guidance and no understanding of the truth about this epitome Form, he was helpless as demonic fires raged through his body smashing internal gates and causing great mortal damage to his body. Thus the pool of blood on the floor, and thus the marks on the paper – before he managed to slam shut the main gate near his heart and stop it bursting. There was no help for it, but to take himself away from the scene once he recovered the strength to move. Then in a dark cave some distance away, he began, slowly, to open his internal gates to see the extent of the damage and to heal, and to gain some measure of control over a deadly chaotic Qh’i. Finding this somewhat difficult, he wondered if the only way to understand the secret scroll is to seek learning from a supreme master like Aramond … and if so, what would be the result … what would become of him with such a sihfu … was the price truly more than he could bear … alone in the darkness with his dark thoughts he sobbed at the weakness of his shattered body … and when he tired of that, he groaned at the pain of his injuries, and the pain of his heart … when he bored of that, he wept at the thought of his forlorn wretchedness and that there should be such a pitiful creature, alone and helpless …

  … I dare say it will be quite some time before he lifts out of this fog of self-pity!