The evening Kai exercises were simpler to follow than XJ-V had initially thought. These were not tests of Qi gathering through breathing or walking within the domain of the Universal Dao. They were simply movements – a chance for each Disciple to practice their stances and allow their bodies to flow with the still winds that blew through the jade monastery rooftops. XJ-V learned of the Prancing Crane stance, keeping his legs perpendicular, angling his toes, and balancing on the soles of his feet, receiving a few affirmative glances from Feng-Lung when he got the form down correctly. At the head of the gathering, Master Longhua’s sharp eyes betrayed nothing but keen focus and intellect as he observed every Disciple for any lapse in form or ability. One beginning the art of Corporeal Tempering required their body to be at once loose – ready to bend like a reed in the wind – and strong, hardening like a tree’s deep roots when the mind commanded.
Master Longhua’s first sessions with XJ-V were similar in nature. Every Disciple was allotted at least one private audience with the Master a week for the purposes of direct instruction based on their power level and ambitions. XJ-V had been overjoyed to begin, but had so far only enjoyed the Master’s silent company in guided meditation. The Cog had assumed he would skip the basic breathing exercises and movements – focusing instead on the first martial techniques of the Eternal Dragon’s Earth Grade skills. After his first two weekly sessions, however, he found that this was not so. If anything, his private sessions with the Master were much the same as what he had been doing outside his chambers for the past months – focusing on the correct position, becoming one with his surroundings, hearing the most minute of movements and detecting the presence of individuals by their steps alone. Soon he could detect the Ciatra Crickets by the beating of their tiny wings, and the appearance of a Marshbuck by the beating of its tail as it tunneled underground. His sensors were heightening through practice, it was true, but he felt this was nothing he could not have mastered on his own.
The first steps on the road to Cultivation were shaping the body through such exercises, supported by training bouts (called ‘Katas’). The union of meditation with martial contest would ensure that the relation between the will of the individual and each movement of one’s limbs were perfectly in sync. Even though many of the Disciples had long ago moved up the ranks, Master Longhua was known for his strict observance and maintenance of these basic forms. At his Master’s insistence, XJ-V joined several practice Katas for this very purpose, with Disciples lining up to be his sparring partner. Most of them he could counter without much hassle - his sensors gave him an advantage in reading precise movements. In his first few days nearly every member of the Sect went toe-to-toe with XJ-V and, with varying degrees of difficulty, the Cog had managed to put them on the ground without a second thought. Of course, none of them were employing their sacred Sect techniques, even if some sorely wished to. That would not be in the spirit of fair competition with a novice, even if he did have his own advantages. Such bouts were purely friendly contests of martial prowess alone, not spiritual tourneys, and XJ-V learned much through purely observing the strengths and weaknesses of his opponents’ respective stances. He gathered enough data to enable him to perfectly perform the four major stances of his Sect within a week – the Prancing Crane, Crouching Fox, Falling Drake and Coiling Wyrm.
But like all things, XJ-V’s newfound confidence was quickly shot by two Disciples who proved more than a match for even his adaptable mind: Mah-Jung and Feng-Lung. Often, he would find himself knocked off balance by the swift, yet heavy strikes of both men, and each time he would blink up at them in surprise as the other Disciples sniggered in their own corners of the courtyard or the commune training room.
“Come, XJ-V!” Mah-Jung told his thrown body one early morning. “Rise and show me the strike that took down the furious Fai-Deng!”
The Cog smiled despite himself. He could see the beads of sweat running down his Brother’s face, staining the folds of his training Gi. Feng-Lung watched from the oaken bench at the far end of the training room, his own face flushed with exertion after throwing XJ-V at least three times.
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Not this time, XJ-V thought to himself. The boy is tired. I can read his apprehension.
XJ-V spread his legs and crouched, low keeping his back straight and chest out, assuming the Crouching Fox. He made every movement so obvious for Mah-Jung, performing the move with textbook precision – his feet were not an inch out of line.
His sparring partner smiled. “You mean to take me down in one fell swoop,” he said, dancing on the heels of his legs. “Very well, Brother, I accept your challenge.”
The Brothers of the training room gathered to watch the bout as midday sun streaked its golden threads over the commune rooftops. A few of them placed bets of baijiu and mantou on one of the two men, while others made dire promises of offering omelet rice to the victory – a promise all knew would not be kept.
But the two men in the sparring circle had eyes for only each other.
He will flank left, XJ-V told himself, his sharp eyes homing in on the almost imperceptible movements of Mah-Jung’s naked toes wriggling ever so slightly to the left. He will aim a jab at my side to break my stance and then try and take me down with a roundhouse to my neck as I struggle to recover. I will allow him his first blow, let him get lost in his confidence, and then use the momentum from his strike to grab his fist and pull him down with me. If I can get my legs round his neck, I can force him to yield.
All at once Mah-Jung flashed a jester’s smile and pounced, following the exact trajectory XJ-V had calculated.
Got him!
The Cog shot out his arms to grapple the boy and redirect the punch he was sending towards his neck.
…and then he felt its sting on his right leg, just under his kneecap.
XJ-V’s eyes went wild. He felt his lower torso buckle and fall, and his eyes flashed to the carpeted ground to see that Mah-Jung had managed to get his foot to sweep his skeletal ankle. All that remained was for the boy to grab his Gi and push the metal man down, and the strange double vision that had only moments ago dominated XJ-V’s eyes coalesced into the smiling form of the Disciple on top of him, his leg firmly locked in the air beneath Mah-Jung’s elbow joint.
“Do you yield, Brother?” he asked like a cackling ghost.
XJ-V, despite having just suffered his fifth loss that day, smiled.
“I believe it would be prudent to do so.”
Mah-Jung unlocked their limbs and offered him his sweaty hand. Not wanting to appear unsportsmanlike, he took it.
“You fought well, Brother,” Mah-Jung said. “But I think you underestimated your opponents on this day.”
XJ-V’s smile grew as Feng-Lung came over to greet the panting contestants. “That is a mistake I will not be making again.”
“Ah, cheer up good Brother!” Feng-Lung jeered. “It looks to me like you have given Brother Mah-Jung his most intense workout in days. After a couple more bouts, I’m certain you would have him on his back by dint of his sheer fatigue alone!”
Mah-Jung chuckled, accepting a wet towel from his fellow Dragon. “I won’t argue that point!”
The two decided to head off for lunch at that point, asking their Cog Brother if he wished to join them. XJ-V declined, saying he would rather use the time to complete his repairs in the wake of his morning defeats.
“The wise warlord contemplates his losses more than he celebrates his victories,” Mah-Jung said approvingly. “But you must not dwell on it, Brother. We of the Seventh level Body Temperers have our secrets. Perhaps, in time, you shall unlock them.”
XJ-V nodded at that, admittedly looking on the pale-skinned youth with new eyes. He had thought him a clown – a mere underling that was used to ferry the novices around. It had not occurred to him that he would be such a formidable opponent.
His moves were like a harlequin’s, always dancing around his opponent, always appearing to be where he was not. XJ-V had tried anticipating – had tried calculating – and this had been enough to confound the other novices, some of whom were of higher rank than he. But not so with this one, or Brother Feng-Lung. It struck the metal man as funny that these two were of the most unassuming, most innocent natures – cut from a totally different cloth compared to students like Fai-Deng – and yet they posed the greatest challenge to him.
The way he moved…XJ-V thought as he watched his new Brothers go. To be in one place and then…not there…
Whatever secret hid behind those smiling faces, XJ-V decided he would devote himself to finding it.