“The Heavenly Dragon Patriarch is dead.” Thunder Mountain proclaimed casually.

The group had assembled atop the very peak of Mount Chomolungma, the very peak of the world. Few to none knew that there was one man who had built an abode, supported by large pillars of granite that could brave the incessant storms and snowfall that came year-round.

Now, however, there was nothing but blue sky above the gathered expert, sitting on top of a balcony with a long table.

At the end of the table, the host of this meeting, the elder Thunder Mountain sat, puffing away at his pipe, his vividly purple robes billowing slightly with the wind as he sat, leg crossed.

“Obviously,” the Harmonious Crane Sect Master said, “Someone killed him. Who?”

With a flip of his hand, he summoned a jade slip, which he threw onto the middle of the table. It did not hit the table, simply floating above for all the gathered people to observe.

The jade slip’s appearance was what identified it to every single expert gathered. It was red, with the symbols for Heaven and Demon emblazoned almost too proudly on it, as if whoever etched it feared not heavenly judgment; a true demon.

Shen Zhimei hammered her fist on the table. “Is this proof enough that this ‘wayward child’ may actually be a danger? He left his jade slip behind, practically begging us to find him, to challenge him!”

“Na-Mo-Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo,” the Dharma Protector of the Shaolin Monastery chanted in consternation. “Daoist Zhimei has a point. This has gone on for too long. Refusing to suppress Tian Mo any longer will just be the height of folly, and now,” he gestured his Bo staff at the jade slip, gnarled wood made from a Divine Tree. “Now he has the confidence to invite the elite of the Wulin and Jianghu for a battle? Preposterous.”

“It is the thirty-second stratagem,” the Ninth Wu Lord said, dressed in tiger fur, with thick brown hair billowing down to the small of his back. He looked the part of a young man, positively bristling with muscle and grit. “The Empty Fort Strategy. He feigns weakness, inviting people into his doorstep, only to have an ambush waiting,” he scoffed. “That, or he really is weak and this is a last ditch effort to keep us from busting down his door.”

“Tian Mo doesn’t play,” Zhimei contributed. “If he is inviting us to him, he has got something prepared. It absolutely is not like him to gamble like this.”

The Matriarch of the Emei sect spoke up. “Then why kill the Heavenly Dragon Patriarch? Surely, he must know that whatever he has planned, he cannot truly defeat nine consummate warriors?” She looked the part of a grandmother, the type of appearance that Zhimei had affected in her time in prison, but all resemblance ended there, for the woman looked truly ancient, like a stiff breeze could send her spiraling into death’s door, and where Zhimei had tried for a lovely grandmother, the Matriarch was a harsh woman that brokered no nonsense at all.

The Master of Kunlun scoffed. “You really think the Heavenly Dragon would just fall to some upstart barely even a hundred and fifty years old?” He was an old, portly man dressed in fine robes, adorned with jewelries screaming opulence. “Since nobody wants to say it, I will; he has a Divine Relic.”

Shen ZhiLong pinched his beard and pulled as he spoke. “All but one of the Divine Relics are completely unaccounted for, and I did not ask my disciple where it lay, but as long as it is either destroyed or sealed from Tian Mo, he will never become strong enough to go ahead with his insane plan.”

“What?!” The Wudang Sect Master roared. “Your disciple knows where it is, and you don’t? How could you accept that?”

“Because,” Zhimei continued. “There will always be a non-zero chance that Tian Mo has sympathizers here. He is talented and powerful, and if his plan ever comes through, then any one of you would like to be on his side, yes?”

Tension spiked as each person on the table looked at the other, knowing quite certainly that a traitor stood in their midst.

Zhimei had her own theories. Of the nine people present, it could not be Thunder Mountain as the man had lost three disciples to Tian Mo, already. Shen ZhiLong was already a foregone conclusion. The old man had spent a large portion of his life trying to destroy everything that Tian Mo had built. The Dharma Protector was right out as well for obvious reasons, and the Emei Matriarch would rather snip off her own ears that listen to the younger generation, which also happened to be all but one other person on this table. All that remained were the Wu Lord, the Harmonious Crane Sect Master, the Master of Kunlun and the Wudang Sect Master (who, come to think of it, also seemed awfully upset that the ‘Wise Dragon’ did not know where the relic was).

Chief of those suspects was the Wu Lord, a bandit in all but name, killing Martial Warriors like cutting grass all for the sake of creating a stronger Martial World.

And by the looks of things, the others in the table shared in her misgivings, casting subtle glances at the Wu Lord.

He simply sighed. “Tian Mo’s plan is to destroy the Martial Arts World. Why would I wish for that to happen? I value strength above all.”

“Yes,” Zhimei said. “And in case your strength is threatened, would it not be wise to ally with the one threatening it?” She shrugged. “I’m sure that’s probably one of the stratagems, is it not?”

The Wu Lord did not rise to the bait. “I don’t begrudge your secrecy, ‘Wise Dragon’. It is true that someone here is not what they seem. Wasting time suspecting everyone will do us no good, and I suspect that Tian Mo would benefit from this in-fighting.”

Begrudgingly, Zhimei let it go. She saw the sense he was speaking, and knew that pushing the matter would only make her seem immature, which was exactly the opposite of how she planned to appear, being the youngest person on the table.

Thunder Mountain took a drag from his pipe and blew a thick, billowing plume into the sky. “A course of action would be a good place to start.”

“Hiding,” the Wu Lord said, quite shamelessly in fact. “You proud fops will never admit to the necessity of hiding, but when our enemy possesses a Divine Relic, the solution is not to stand and die like fools, but to hide and put our heads together in order to come up with a solution. The tortoise may not be fearsome, but slow as they are, it should have been impossible for them to not go extinct but for the fact that they know when to retreat. Of the Thirty-Six Stratagems, fleeing is best.”

The Dharma Protector stood up and nodded. “Na-Mo-Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo… this has been it for me. I have no quarrel with Tian Mo, and I do not fight. I thank you all for your sacrifice, but I will leave the rest to you all.”

Shen Zhimei struck the table in a fit of anger. “If you wish to truly embody the Noble Eightfold Path, how about some self-sacrifice? Would you simply not save your precious Monastery, but at the cost of Nirvana? Are you really that self-absorbed?”

Thankfully, no one had interrupted even as the Dharma Protector reddened before clasping his hands in the mudra of Enlightenment, chanting lowly beneath his breath.

Giving him just enough time to collect himself so he would not blow off his top, Zhimei continued. “Telling us to hurt someone, and hurting that person makes no functional difference. All you do is place a paper-thin separation between yourself and the act. You have fallen off from the path, and forsaking us now will only confirm that you are poisoned by the desire of attaining Nirvana.”

The Dharma Protector hummed even louder before finally stopping.

Then all hell broke loose as his face twisted from stern serenity to demonic, unstoppable rage which would have forced Zhimei on her knees was she standing. The other gathered experts were much less affected by the utterly unholy aura emanating from the ‘pious’ man.

Slowly, it eased until it was merely just a trickle, and when that was finally over, he returned to his seat and sat down without a word.

Mission… accomplished?

Nevertheless, the victory felt hollow. The Dharma Protector was no doubt a monster, a person who was just millimeters from Transcendence, but was also dancing on the razor’s edge of demon and angel. It was a vulnerable time for him, and in all his years, almost five-hundred now, he still had come no closer to reaching Buddhahood.

And now, that very same half-step Transcendent had made her look like she was being whipped by her grandfather. Utterly disgraceful, but she was willing to swallow the slight on account that they had bigger things to worry about. Besides, it wasn’t like any of the other experts present wouldn’t just shit their pants if the aura was directed at them. Even the collateral effect had them shivering, and all she did was bow her head and breathe a little hard.

The more she thought about it, the more anger she felt at being slighted so egregiously.

Besides, the Dharma Protector was possibly the second strongest person present, after Thunder Mountain now that the Heavenly Dragon was dead. They would need him in the coming battle.

The silence remained for the duration of an incense stick burning as every single present expert were deep in contemplation, considering the proposed plan.

Finally, sensing that the storm of thinking had come to a near close, Thunder Mountain cleared his phlegm-filled throat borne from several lifetimes of smoking, and said his piece. “Anyone opposing the motion?”

No one did.

“Great,” Thunder Mountain said. “We will all remain in the vicinity, watching each other’s every move, until we have come up with a viable plan,” he waved the red Jade Slip over and crushed it. “Since it has not reacted yet, it is safe to assume that Tian Mo never thought to seek us out just yet. With him unknowing of where we are, granted none of you told him, this place is the safest for us all. If he is coming, don’t worry. The spell array on this abode will take us across China in the bat of a fly’s wing at the smallest sign of trouble.”

An acceptable recourse, albeit a regrettable one. Zhimei hoped that her disciple would remain safe as she braved the Empire on her own.

Had they only a few more years together, maybe five, then she would have prepared her sufficiently, but time was a fickle mistress. It was up to the older generation, now.

000

“So… Kang Yilan?”

I perked up, looking to the right where my name was spoken. Han Yu Jie veered towards me on her horse, half-smiling. “Yeah?”

“Tell me… more about your mentor,” she said. “Were you actually serious about that whole ‘cloud-stepping’ thing?”

I chuckled a bit. “Very. Scared the shit out of me the first time she dragged me up there. Why?”

She frowned. “I dunno, it’s just… I always did look up to my Mentor, but yours seems so much more powerful.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know about that. My Mentor is old as hell. She’s probably had a lot of time to strengthen herself.”

“Makes sense,” she responded. “My Mentor, Kong Yimu, is thirty, I think. People call him the ‘Scourge of Beijing’ and the ‘Wu Lord’, but I’ve never seen him actually ‘cloud-step’.”

“See? Young,” I reassured. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll even get stronger than him where we’re going.”

Han Yu Jie giggled prettily. “That’d be something, but,” she nodded resolutely. “I will become stronger than him. He is a man whom I respect above all in this world. He’s… different, like me.” Immediately, she gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth.

I blinked owlishly. “Oh, uh… what is that supposed to mean?” I chuckled a little nervously. I could relate to being different, being an outcast. The gradual reddening of Han Yu Jie’s face upset me a little.

I decided to reciprocate. “You know… my village treated me like crap growing up. I guess there was something about me that… made them hate me,” I said. “My mom died when she gave birth to me, and my dad turned into a complete asshole. It was like the village just… didn’t want me around.”

She nodded. “That’s… difficult.”

I snorted. “You could say that again. You know, being different is… fine. You’re,” I recalled my Mentor’s words vividly. “…My mentor told me this one time. ‘You’re desirable, and even if someone doesn’t desire you, it doesn’t matter, because you still have value.’”

Han Yu Jie nodded. “That’s… thank you for that. My Mentor just told me to ‘kill whoever does not accept you for who you are’.”

“Or that,” I said. As one, we broke into laughter.

“You know, Yilan, I…” She paused for a moment. “I… I don’t know, nevermind.”

I let the matter drop as we continued to ride. The sun was beginning to approach the halfway point between noon and dusk. I looked behind us, where the rest of our little travelling party were riding, chatting between each other, except for the soldier, who was just weirdly not talking to anyone, not even the Monk, and the Monk talked to everyone.

I turned to my own horse and sighed. They had been walking for a while now, it seemed. “You think the horse is tired?” I asked Han Yu Jie, because while I had read about them (wow, I had read about something), I still had no experience with them.

Han Yu Jie jumped from the horse. “There’s a creek over there,” she pointed towards the creek running alongside the path. “We’ll rest up.”

I jumped off from the horse as well and relayed the plan to the others behind us. They all followed suit.

While the horses drank their fill and rested, I approached the still somewhat sullen Monk, sitting on the bank of the river, knees tucked behind his arms. I sat besides him. “Hi.”

He turned to me and smiled tragically. “Hello, Kang Yilan.”

“Still upset about the invasion?”

“Kang Yilan, I killed a man,” he suddenly said. He wiped a tear from his face. “A human being, with all those aspirations, all those experiences. He was a human being that had lived a life, a life where he had no doubt loved someone. No one lives without loving. And I killed him.”

I nodded understandingly. Personally, I didn’t see what the problem was. If I hadn’t killed fifty men three days ago, I would be surprised, since it did feel like fifty men. Besides, they were going to sack a city. “You are taught to follow the path of… uh, right action,” I barely recalled. “What is the better action: watching as someone innocent dies, or killing the offender?”

He shook his head. “It is a binary choice that does not translate to reality reliably and-“

“It does,” I said. “Because… sometimes you’re backed into a corner, and you can’t do anything else but one thing, but you have to do it. I trust you, Monk. Whatever reason you had to kill someone, it was obviously a good one. Not everyone is receptive to dialogue, and while that may be regrettable, that is just reality…” I thought more on it. “If the Buddha reached Transcendence living in this exact same world, then what does that say about your chances of transcending?”

His expression was pained. “It’s… oh, Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo, it’s not about Transcendece. It’s just all of this… guilt that simply will not leave my heart. I tried to do good by the combatant whom I killed. I buried him, chanted the correct sutras, and prayed that he find himself well in his next life, but… it scares me to think that I might have banished him to an animal life, or even worse; hell,” he dried some more tears. “But… it happened, so I should simply meditate on the issue and try my best to reach the wholesome state. The Monastery had informed me that I will be tested to my breaking point while in the surface world. This should not be a surprise.”

I patted him on the shoulder. He was a good guy. “If you… need to leave your ‘unwholesome state’, I’ll be here for you to talk with.”

He nodded and smiled, this time more genuinely. “You are always welcome to discuss your misgivings, and relieve yourself of your ‘unwholesome state’, too, Kang Yilan. Thank you for your attention. It was very-much appreciated.”

“I caught fish!” Wei Chow came with a line filled with large bass, three or so. I turned to the Monk apologetically, and he just shrugged.

“I’ll go… forage.” He stood up and left into the forest.

Deng Ming, who had sat himself on a nearby rock, reading from a manuscript, sighed. “You know the Monk can’t eat meat, right?”

Wei Chow had an utterly disgusted look on his face. “Why even live?” He turned to his companion, the ever-so-listless Lin Leng. “Hey, bro, get a fire going!”

“You do it.”

“Dammit, can someone do it?”

Bai Guo stood up. “I’ll do it. I learned it on the front lines.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Wait, you’re actually from the front lines?”

He shut his mouth and looked away.

Oh, okay. “You also deserted,” I said.

“I’m on a quest,” he said quietly.

“Uhuh,” I said. “You just get the fire going. I’m starving.”

With that, I fell into the State of Enlightenment. Right before I began to cultivate, I only thought of one thing.

When the hell was I going to learn the State of Wu?