When junior disciples became senior grey disciples, there were no more formal training sessions. They would be each assigned to a sihfu who oversaw their progress and taught as they saw fit. The grey disciples’ progress depended on their aptitude and diligence, and guidance from the sihfu. Junho was a bit nervous at his first meeting with his new sihfu, Cragon Monk. Cragon was of smaller-than-average size and height, and approaching his fortieth year. His face was wide and generous and clean-shaven.

  Cragon appraised his new disciple and then asked, “How old are you?”

  “Nearly fifteen, sihfu,” Junho replied.

  “And what can you do?”

  “Er, what can I do? What do you mean, sihfu?”

  “I mean, beyond the basic training – have you learned any of the Sixty Four Forms?”

  “No sihfu. I thought that would be what I am to learn now.”

  Cragon nodded. “Come with me.”

  The small monk led the way to the temple library. He showed him a recessed corner where the dust was especially thick on the top shelves.

  “There are those who like to teach their disciples as if they were juniors. I choose not to do this. Here are the manuals for each Form. Here are fifty-two of the Sixty Four Forms in modern text. The rest are still in old text and if someone hasn’t got round to translating them by the time you’ve mastered this lot then I’ll teach you them myself. So, you may start with the first book, The Sweeping Willow. If you have any questions, anything that doesn’t make sense, then you may ask me. The original book is not to leave this library so you may wish to make your own copy. If you do make a copy, it is not to leave Shaolin. I advise you to thoroughly absorb the words before you start practising. The straightforward parts you could probably work through yourself, but the difficult parts you should go over with me before you train in earnest – for your own safety. Clear?”

  Junho nodded.

  “You did learn to read, didn’t you?”

  “Of course I did, sihfu.”

  “Good. You can make a start whenever you like.”

  Cragon left the room.

  Junho read through The Sweeping Willow. It was a rather thin text and he was finished by the end of the day. But it made hardly any sense to him. So the next day, he made his own copy and spent much time reading it over, trying to discern the meaning and absorb it. Only half of it talked of body-stance and practical movements, which was easy enough to understand. The other half talked of mind-state and energising Qh’i, which flummoxed him. He went to ask Cragon Sihfu.

  “First of all,” Cragon started to explain, “your basic training has taught you to sharpen your senses and strengthen your body. You learn to move better, and be mindful of yourself and your surroundings. You should be able to move without disturbing the ground, leaves, water and other elements. All nature is as one with you when necessary. You also learn the basics of marshalling Qh’i through breathing exercises. Now you must use that knowledge to achieve perfect air and heat energies. This provides the power behind each Form. There is a flow inherent in each Form. You must find it and master it. There is a naturalness to everything you will learn from now on. It is a dao you must learn for yourself. I could teach you the kungfu, I could even tell you the dao of the lesser Forms, but with the higher Forms I would only be able to guide you so I would prefer you learn to find it yourself. Sharpen your mind, strengthen your body. They are two parts of the same oneness. Spirit and substance. Train them together and thus the barriers of possibility are pushed back. You will find that with greater mastery, what was impossible before becomes commonplace. Then you will be ready for the secret scroll, which is – I’ve been told – a short time to learn, a lifetime to master.”

  “Right. Erm … What exactly is Qh’i?”

  “That is a difficult thing to explain,” said Cragon. He stood up and rummaged through a stack of books on the stool by his window. He found what he wanted and gave it to Junho. “This book will go some way towards explaining it, but the best way to understand it is to practise Qh’i Kung. It is like an aura of moving air and energy, a breathing that pervades us, surrounds us. You should train yourself to see it in others and to hide your intentions in combat. A master of perfect Qh’i will be able to see through webs of confusion. He will see unseen possibilities. He is a master of changes.”

  Baffled by this oblique explanation, Junho made a speedy exit so he could study the book, Qh’i Kung, and see if it explained it any better.

  Lingmon found him sitting on the steps by the gigantic statue of Buddha in the outermost courtyard.

  “Oi! Junho! Get your nose out of that book and help us sort out that snotty little kid.”

  “What?” Junho wrenched his thoughts from the complex sentence he had just read.

  “That Mao and his servant are back. Let’s go and show them who’s boss!”

  “What do you disturb me with that for! Idiot! I have no interest in your jumped-up shenanigans!”

  Junho snapped his book shut and stood up. “If you disturb me again for such stupid reasons, I’ll give you what for!” he said, and stalked off to his room in the senior quarters.

  ~~~

  With no access to the training yards and fewer chores, Keihan spent most of his days idling by the streams. Occasionally, he saw some of the grey disciples practising Forms at the streams, and in the depths of the forest, but there was little he could learn from them. He could sense the power, but he did not know how it was achieved. He had fully mastered the initiate exercises and had perfect control. Sometimes, he delighted in demonstrating to himself how far he had tempered his body. The lightness and spring of perfect balance and Qh’i, which takes him across the lake surface like a skipped stone. But most days were now spent lazing by the stream and fishing with a hook and bit of twine.

  He did not volunteer for more chores and it was mid-autumn before Greson Monk thought of and wondered what to do about him. At first, Greson thought it would be no matter that he had so much spare time. Then he worried that he might be using it to learn Shaolin’s secrets without being properly indoctrinated. Thus he made up his mind to spy on him.

  Even though Keihan had the habit of mindfulness of his surroundings, he could not have detected the taskmaster unless the big monk chose to reveal himself. Greson had withdrawn his presence so completely that only a master of equal stature to Greson, or better, could have detected him as he shadowed the little boy when he saw him leave the temple and make his way to the stream.

  Thus Greson wondered at first what Keihan was doing throwing a hook-line into the stream and then settling himself onto a comfortable low-lying branch. Then it dawned upon him –

  Startled, Keihan turned and saw the taskmaster appear from behind a boulder like a titan from an earthquake. Greson Monk then pontificated on the sanctity of life and proclaimed his horror at how he could so casually destroy a living creature. Food was plentiful; there was no excuse –

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Keihan stuttered an apology and promised to not do it again.

  “– How am I to believe you?” Greson berated. “That you would not come here tomorrow and do the same thing. No, I’ve decided you need new duties. No more fetching of water or wood. From now on your duties will be strictly inside the temple. I don’t want to see you outside, or even near this stream. Back to the temple with me, now!”

  Keihan followed the big monk, dreading the change the taskmaster had in mind.

  Greson was gruff in his scolding, but secretly glad the boy was only fishing, and not practising stolen lore. He chuckled at himself for his silly suspicions. Nevertheless, a change of duties was needed to occupy the lad and keep him on the straight path. Thus, he set new duties; to dust, wipe and sweep the inner sanctums, chambers, walkways and outer courtyards; to work in the laundry; to work in the side kitchens; and to help in the herb and vegetable gardens.

  Keihan resigned himself to the new chores.

  One of the things he found remarkable as he commenced his new dusting duties was the sheer number of statues around the temple. There was the colossal one in the courtyard in front of the buildings – a serene Buddha of pure-white stone – life-sized statues in the main chanting hall – half-sized ones in alcoves high up. Every inner room had at least one. Even the library had one. A very curious statue, it had a sagely face and a body between combat and prayer – there were two arms in front with the palms facing but not touching. Keihan marvelled at the way the sculptor had managed to give it sixty-four arms – he counted – which were arrayed in an astonishingly inventive design. Every statue, from the most human-like to the most unhuman-like had its own story. This one must be intricately linked to the secrets of Shaolin and he took care not to wonder too much about it lest someone took note of his wonder.

  The work kept him busy but his mind idled. There was no one keeping tabs on him beyond noting that his chores were done, and he found himself one or two spare hours on most days. He sometimes spent them reading and re-reading Mao’s books. When he got bored of them, he thought about finding others in the library. So, knowing that all the monks – except for Greson who almost always stayed in the kitchen – would go into an inner sanctum for yet another ritual in the evening, he decided that was the perfect time to browse.

  ~~~

  Hing looked up from his studies of contemporary and ancient language at the sound of the door opening. Keihan blanched at finding the library occupied, not deserted as he had hoped. He immediately backtracked.

  “Oi! Mao’s servant boy,” said Hing, glad of having something to break the monotony of his study.

  Keihan had no choice but to approach Hing’s desk. “Yes, Master Hing,” he bowed.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not like Junho. I just want to ask you a few things, if that’s alright.”

  Keihan bowed. “I will answer what I can, sir.”

  “Yes … what is it like … I’ve heard that Mao’s father is one of the most famous generals of the Imperial Court, so what is it like? To serve such a great lineage?”

  “Er … I really can’t say.”

  “Am I too nosy? Then you need not answer. I’m just curious what it must be like – to rub shoulders with the great. I’ve heard Duke Aramond is a trusted aide to the emperor himself!”

  “It is not a servant’s place to gossip about his masters,” said Keihan, eventually.

  “Of course not. I’m sorry. It is just that Mao hardly speaks of his home whenever I ask him. I can respect that you shouldn’t talk about your masters behind their back. But you know I’m his good friend. I won’t tell him anything you tell me.”

  “I don’t know …”

  “What’s his home like?”

  The silence built up until Hing gave up prying and returned to the books and papers on his desk. This was the signal to Keihan that he may leave, but he did not. He look at Hing’s books with open curiosity.

  Hing noticed his interest. “You want to know what this is? This is a dictionary. That’s a book that tells me the meaning of words. This one here shows me how old words become new words. I bet you never realised words can change with history. It’s a shame you don’t know how to read, because then I could really show you something. In this library are gathered all kinds of knowledge. Every now and again the monks like to travel and gather new knowledge from all places to study. Quite awesome, isn’t it? To think of all those types of learning, recorded for all time here in this stuffy old room!”

  Hing laughed at the round eyes of the little servant.

  “You won’t ever need to worry your little head over this – you know I actually envy you your ignorance. You won’t know the need to torture your brain trying to make sense of these squiggly lines that make up the written language – beat your head over the layers of subtle meaning – cooped up at your desk – knowing that you just might grasp the meaning of it if you apply yourself a bit more – and hearing the sound of people outside, longing to join them if you could only finish with the work here … but I am losing your attention. What can I be thinking, to talk on and on to someone who has no idea of what I’m talking about. Go on, little one, I shouldn’t be keeping you from your work with my nonsense.”

  Keihan bowed and left the room.

  Alone, Hing went back to his torturous study. He had spent eight years at the temple now. At fifteen, he was fully grown, and even sported the beginnings of a flowing moustache. His study balanced well with exercise and his progress with the basic training is such that he would soon follow Junho in going up to the grey jacket.

  ~~~

  Cragon Monk found Junho practising the second Form, The Snarling Tiger, in one of the small senior training yards.

  “There you are! Here, I thought you should also be acquainted with this book,” said Cragon, holding up a white-covered book bound with sturdy blue thread.

  Junho took the book and read the title, Anatomy and the Essential Points of Pressure. “What is it about?”

  “The body has certain pressure points and it is important that you learn about them. They can be points of weakness if you are not careful. It is through these pressure points that a kungfu master can immobilise, even kill his victim. You can use Qh’i to protect these points. And it is also through these points that certain types of energy are channelled depending on the Form and the pressure point. But that is all detailed in the book. How’s your tantric focus?”

  “My – what!”

  “Tantric focus – the way by which one attunes oneself in mind and body to the surroundings, the non-self and the self.”

  “Pardon!”

  “Ah! So much to learn,” said Cragon happily. “You must also exercise your brain as well as your body. First, there is the Qh’i. That is a marshalling of internal energies to give power to your motions. A punch followed though with Qh’i is much stronger. A strong man with no Qh’i might demolish a wall. A strong man with Qh’i might demolish ten. A master with perfect Qh’i may demolish untold numbers, although it would not be wise to unleash such a force all at once. Each Form has its own particular way of marshalling Qh’i and it is important to recognise the correct way in each. You must learn to appreciate this and be mindful of your internal gates or you could damage them. You must always … so rare that anyone can learn this … achieve this …”

  Junho nodded attentively.

  “I do not expect you to learn this in one day, or even one week, or one year. Shaolin has many disciples but we expect few to ever reach the state of master. It is rare for five out of a thousand to achieve complete mastery of all that the temple has to teach.” Cragon continued, “Second, there are the pressure points. These are nodes around the body, rather like internal gates which one must always be mindful of. Study the diagrams and identify those points on your body and the relationships between them. Be mindful of them in ordinary activity, and especially in combat. Theoretically, it is possible to self-heal if you fall victim to a pressure point attack, but it is so difficult that it is impossible –”

  “Sorry, sihfu, but did you say the points of pressure are the same as the internal gates?”

  “Ah … not so … they are similar. The position of each pressure point is charted and can be learned, but the internal gates are uncharted … they are … felt … this leads me to my third point – tantric focus. This is what you must train yourself in as well. It is one thing to learn the motions of each of the Sixty Four Forms, but quite another to awaken the dormant powers of each Form. This is achieved by the marshalling of internal energies and you can only do this when you have perfected Qh’i Kung and tantric focus.”

  “I sort of understand Qh’i Kung, but what is this tantric focus? How do I perfect that?” asked Junho.

  “Hmm … I think we shall leave that for another time. You have quite enough to do for now. It is a whole different level of mastery and you will learn to achieve it … in good time.”

  Junho bowed obeisance, and the little monk nodded and went about his other business.