Pebbles crunched and slid out from Pengfei’s feet as he jogged up the mountain path. The descents had gotten easier but he quickly fell out of pace with the others on the climbs back to the sect. He had only managed to maintain a position at the back of the cohort but now even the stragglers were pulling away.

His stamina exhausted, a shambling trot slowed to walk. The last disciple to pass Pengfei grabbed the robe on his shoulder and tried to drag him back into formation.

“Fuck … off…” Pengfei sputtered, sucking in ragged breaths between words and weakly throwing off the other boy’s grip. The disciple gave up his efforts and left Pengfei to trudge alone up the mountain.

Deserted again.

*************************************************************************************

Normally, his tardiness in completing the morning exercise would cut into time dedicated to upkeep of the sect and then religious study, but this week Pengfei’s dormitory had kitchen duty. The middle of the day was especially busy, used for preparation of both the midday and evening meals. He found the Dining Hall bustling with activity and resentful eyes glared at him with accusations of shirking responsibilities when he finally arrived, made his way to the back rooms.

“Clean the chopsticks.”

“Glad I didn’t miss anything exciting.”

Pengfei took up his position in front of buckets full of the soiled utensils. He found a rag and awkwardly began picking up one chopstick at a time to wipe it clean.

“What are you doing?” a fellow disciple asked incredulously. Jin Shutian.

“Cleaning the chopsticks?”

“Have you ever done a dish before? We’ll be here all night if you do it like that.”

Jin Xiaotong joined in on the ribbing, “What, were you the young master of a merchant family before you came here?”

“Just show me how I’m supposed to do it.”

Shutian, who seemed permanently annoyed, reluctantly instructed on how to fill up buckets of water and wash the chopsticks en masse. His chipper friend, Xiaotong, continued his insightful prodding of Pengfei.

“How was it growing up as a young lord, shithead?”

Pengfei bristled at the nickname and the japes that were surprisingly accurate. He had intended to keep his family background to himself and never imagined something as trivial as housework might give away details so close to the truth. He fumbled for a way to change topics. The result was less than graceful.

“How was it growing up so… ugly?”

Shutian stared at Pengfei, mouth agape, clearly astounded by the pitiful comeback but Xiaotong did not miss a beat.

“Well, it’s just us and the goats out here, and the goats aren’t very picky.”

This brought a chuckle from the others and Pengfei found himself joining in. Soon, he was comfortable enough to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind at meals.

“Speaking of goats, I thought Taoists were supposed to be vegetarians. What’s with all the meat?”

“If we were vegetarian, we’d all starve to death. Nothing grows up here.” Shutian explained. “We get some supplies from merchants but they don’t come often enough to keep us fed completely, so we keep goats. Sheep and yaks, too, but mostly for the wool and milk.”

--Still doesn’t seem like you’re getting enough. Unlike your friend.--

Pengfei knew his thoughts were uncharitable but facts were facts. Shutian looked life if he missed one meal his cheek bones would tear through his skin and Xiaotong seemed to have eaten everything Shutian had missed.

“If you eat meat, does that mean you drink alcohol too?”

Xiaotong chuckled, “Shame disciple, for shame. What kind of Taoists do you think we’re raising here?”

“The kind that take alcohol with their meat, I hope.”

Pengfei had indeed grown up in a life of ease, especially compared to the other disciples who he knew had been gathered from orphanages across the Central Plains. It was true he hadn’t learned to wash a dish or work a farm but that didn’t stop him from carousing with children his own age. In recent years, he had learned the universal truth that a pauper and a prince were equally happy to steal a nip of wine from time to time.

“If you find some booze, make sure to share it. Just don’t let them catch you.” Shutian nodded at the elders of the sect who were entering to take their midday meal. The grey-haired men sat in small groups and chatted in quiet dignity, contrasting the raucous disciples who would flood the hall once their seniors had left.

Pengfei observed the masters as he went about his tasks. Chen Lei sat with the sect head, Chen Hongzhang, and leaned over to communicate something discreetly. Pengfei’s savior, Master Weidao, tried to sit alone but seemed to be pestered by Chen Rulan, the martial arts instructor. A few dozen others, the only occupants of the sect besides the Jin disciples.

--They’re all so old.--

Their ages were all the more noticeable since there didn’t seem to be anyone in Kunlun between the ages of sixteen and sixty.

“Why didn’t they take in more disciples over the years? It must have been hard for them before you all joined the sect.”

“Out of kindness.” Shutian glanced up at the elders as he spoke. “The gates were closed more than forty years ago. Any disciples they brought in would have just been trapped until the punishment was over. Just be thankful you joined at the end.” Shutian mumbled a last few words under his breath, “Just four years left.”

Jin Xiaotong hugged his broom with exaggerated affection, “I can’t wait to get out of here and meet my first couple wives.”

“Are you the young master now? With your looks you’ll have to buy all your companionship.”

Xiaotong smacked Pengfei with the broom in mock retaliation.

*************************************************************************************

Jin Neng stood in front of Pengfei, taking small steps while maintaining a relaxed guard. It seemed to invite attack, but whether through experience or paranoia, Pengfei sensed a ferocity in the stance, a cunning that promised a counter for anyone foolish enough to approach.

“Come on, throw something.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for this. Can’t we just go through the forms again?”

“Forms aren’t fighting. This is how you really learn.”

The two circled each other in the limited space available to them. The entire generation of Jin disciples were paired up in the training ground for sparring. Luckily, Pengfei had managed to grab onto a familiar face for the first round.

“Just focus on one thing at a time. Practice your straight punches.”

--Straight punch, right. Step, turn hips, twist the arm and extend it…--

The resulting attack was as stiff and mechanical as the steps recited in Pengfei’s mind. Neng blocked it with ease, scooping the fist off-line and stepping in for a knee to the midsection that he thankfully held back at the last moment.

“Keep going.”

Pengfei tried to comply, attempting more of the same, shuffling awkwardly between blows. Neng threw strikes of his own, slow enough for even a beginner to parry. A surprising number of the attacks still landed despite the generous exaggeration of each movement.

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“Switch partners!” Elder Chen Rulan yelled out.

--Shit.--

As nerve racking as his first sparring match was, it had at least been with the somewhat familiar Jin Neng. He may be gruff but at least he seemed to harbor no genuine ill-will. But now Pengfei saw Jin Nanxi coming his direction with an eager gleam in his eyes.

“Um… you! Please teach me, brother.” Pengfei darted from Neng’s side and grabbed the nearest robe, in the belief that a random partner would take it easier on him than Nanxi.

--Oh, shit.--

“Then I’ll be in your care. I’m Jin Qingfang.”

“Jin… Jin Pengfei.” He looked up. And up.

--He’s a fucking giant.--

This particular training partner had been visible across dining halls and training grounds since Pengfei had first joined the sect. He was hard to miss. But previous glimpses had not done the behemoth justice. The sheer size of his fists as he raised his guard was …

--Ludicrous…--

Still, it was too late now. The enormous teenager was already testing the distance with a few preliminary attacks. An overwhelming strength could be felt even when Pengfei parried and blocked the most lackadaisical blows, and the distance seemed insurmountable when he considered throwing a counterattack.

--Maybe if I extend the first step and pull the back foot along--

Pengfei saw an opportunity and lunged in behind his fist. Slipping in under his opponent’s guard felt like a small raft entering a great canyon with the larger disciple’s shadow completely enveloping him.

The strike landed.

Pengfei was surprised at the small success but besides the dull thudding sound of contact, there was no reaction. He hadn’t expected much. His attacks had barely shifted the smaller Neng, but at least he had felt some give in the flesh beneath his knuckles, a subtle tilt of balance to absorb the impact. On the other hand, Jin Qingfang' was more like a boulder than a body.

Pengfei looked up to see Qingfang’s smiling face blocking out the sun.

--Oooh shit.--

Qingfang reached out and gave, for him at least, what must have been a gentle push and sent Pengfei stumbling backwards.

--Wow. I thought he was going to – --

Dragon Encircles From the Sky (baowei long tian - 包圍龍天)

Qingfang turned his back for a split second and in the next instant his foot was descending from impossibly high overhead at an equally incredible velocity.

A heavy punch or a brutish headbutt would have been counterattacks that matched Pengfei’s preconceived notions of the enormous disciple. Instead, it was the most acrobatic kick he had seen in his short time in the sect. One that numerous disciples made a show of attempting but few could actually execute. Woefully beyond Pengfei’s current abilities.

There was perception but no reaction.

The kick passed directly in front of Pengfei’s face and brushed across the front of his robes , accompanied by a rush of heat that wasn’t really there. A vague but familiar sensation. Before Pengfei could process it, Qingfang had landed nimbly atop the same foot he had sliced through the air with, a wide grin on his face.

“What…the fuck was that? Did you use qi?”

“Yes. But don’t get distracted now.”

Qingfang stepped away then turned for a sharp back kick to Pengfei’s midsection.

“Oooof!”

The giant brushed past and left his sparring partner with a conciliatory pat on the shoulder, off to find the next. Pengfei was left to wonder if the dramatic attack was a violation of the rule against using internal energy in sparring as he coughed up his last meal.

--Maybe since he didn’t actually make contact with it… --

More opponents came and went. With each change, Pengfei kept a sharp eye out for Nanxi. He kept the distance between them, backing away in between each round, grabbing insistently at other partners. Most were accommodating and lowered the intensity of the attacks for the beginner. Still, there were bumps and bruises by the end of it all.

Elder Rulan called a stop to the empty-handed portion of training and the rest of the disciples went off to fetch wooden swords from the weapons rack to begin that phase of the day’s practice. But the instructor waved Pengfei off to the side.

“Clear the way! Go over there and practice what you’ve learned so far.”

The boy obeyed the instructions called across the training ground. He first ran through the forms he had been shown, but the movements were little more than a dance to him. An occasional punch or kick, amid a long choreography of more obscure motions that had yet to be explained.

After a few repetitions of the sequences, Pengfei moved to a more direct approach. He took his guard and threw his straight punches again and again. Left, right, left right. Parried by Neng. Landing on Qingfang. He recalled the sensations from his earlier bouts. Whether failure or success, there was still something lacking in the strikes.

In between it all, he stole glances at the disciples practicing with their clattering wooden swords. A beautiful display of martial prowess. Then the practice was over and the disciples were making their way to the Dining Hall for dinner.

Pengfei was pleased when Neng caught his eye and come to join him. They fell in step together, moving along with the others.

“You’re doing alright. Just don’t overthink it too much. You can’t fix everything right away.”

“I’m not trying to fix everything; I just want to fix SOMETHING. I want one thing that I can do right.”

Neng shrugged. “Then just focus on the basics for now. Your straights are getting there. I guess I’d say … punch through the target more.”

“What do you mean?”

Neng halted his steps and turned to Pengfei.

“Okay, this is what you’re doing.”

The senior Kunlun disciple performed a punch to the abdomen. Pengfei thankfully had enough time to brace for the impact but the feeling of knuckles twisting into his skin was still unpleasant.

“Now, this is what you should be doing.”

The next blow knocked the wind out of him and sent him toppling.

“See the difference?”

“Huggh… same… exact spot…”.

First Qingfang’s kick and now Neng’s fist. When Pengfei had recovered his breath, he continued.

“It felt like… you were going to punch a hole straight through me.”

“Exactly. You should always imagine punching through your target. But don’t sit there and pose, pull your hand back immediately.”

Neng helped Pengfei back to his feet and the two continued their walk to the dining hall for the evening meal.

“Still, I don’t think it would have helped against Qingfang.”

“Of course not. You’d have to use your internal energy for someone as big as him, but that’s – “

“Right, off limits. I’m a little scared to start the internal practice anyway. I still have so many questions about the neigong technique. The meridian diagrams are so damn complicated.”

“Why do you keep talking about that?”

Pengfei hesitated at Neng’s confused tone. He thought it natural to stumble with such esoteric techniques, but his companion had him second guessing now.

“Elder Chen Mo gave me a book, the ‘Mystical Heaven Infinite Skill’. It has all these diagrams, and –“

“Yeah, yeah, the book. That’s our neigong technique, but we didn’t learn it from the manual. The elders just showed us how to do it. If you’re going to try and figure it out from reading it, you better talk to Chen Lei to check your understanding. Unless you want to give yourself qi deviation.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“That’s kind of my point.”

************************************************************************************

Neng had long gone back to his barracks while Pengfei and his dormitory remained in the dining hall to clean up after the evening meal. Afterward, he kept his eyes open for Nanxi while walking with his other bunkmates to their building. With his attention focused on that one particular threat, a new conflict was able to take him by surprise.

“There he is!”

“Hey shithead!”

Two disciples came jogging over to put their arms around Pengfei.

“Yeah, hi.”

Pengfei tried not to show his irritation at his nickname but the other two were already continuing their smarmy bit.

“We noticed you’ve been having trouble fitting in.

“We thought you could use a friend.”

“We wanted to surprise you with a familiar face.”

The two went back and forth with their little act, building toward a crescendo that Pengfei dreaded. But the climax just left him confused.

“Ta da!”

“Surprise!”

A vulture was struggling against a tether next to the door of their dormitory. A group of puzzled disciples had gathered around it and now looked about for some explanation.

“It’s your buddy!” the stouter disciple said.

His thinner companion added, “Your dear departed friend!”

“What are you talking about?” Pengfei tried to remember their names. Hongyu? And the stout one… Daoping? Of the three dozen boys in the large open dorm, those names popped out. Both of them were roughly Pengfei’s height.

“What was his name again?” Daoping asked.

“Feng!” Hongyu supplied.

Pengfei threw their arms off his shoulders and appraised them with a cold glare. Whatever their game, the mention of Ma Feng was too much to bear. Pengfei unwillingly pictured his dead friend as he had first seen him, in the azure robes of the Qingcheng sect.

“I don’t think he gets it.”

“Well, you see, the ground is too hard for burials out here.”

“And it would take a week to gather the wood for a cremation.”

“Stop.” Pengfei’s fury was rising beneath the surface but Daoping continued.

“So, the elders ‘gave your friend to the mountain’. That’s what the locals call it anyway.”

“It means they cut him up into little chunks and fed him to the birds.”

“Like this one!” Hongyu gestured to the captive carrion bird like he was displaying a golden relic.

“This little guy was flying around with your friend in its guts. We thought it might cheer you up to have a little piece of him nearby. Until he gets shit out, anyway.”

--Feng…--

Hongyu and Daoping laughed uproariously while the other disciples nearby milled about uncomfortably. Some went inside the dorm to escape the scene.

--This is a bad idea.--

Pengfei was rational despite the rage. He didn’t lose all reason and lash out blindly, as cathartic as that might have been. In fact, his own internal monologue was more clear than ever.

--I’m not a match for either of them, let alone both of them.--

Hongyu and Daoping seemed to laugh in slow motion.

--But… fuck them.--

Straight punch.

Pengfei threw the strike to Hongyu’s abdomen. The disciple was already doubled over in laughter so had nowhere else to go but backward.

--Punch through, right through your damn spine.--

That bit of advice Neng had given him just an hour ago replayed in his mind, but he had forgotten the next bit about pulling the fist back quickly. Daoping was quick to retaliate on his friend’s behalf and struck Pengfei’s exposed temple.

He recovered quickly as Hongyu vomited half his dinner onto the ground. Daoping threw another attack but was parried.

Left hand, right hand!

Pengfei threw the only strikes he knew but he threw them with all the ferocity and speed he could muster. Still, Daoping blocked them easily, then kicked his opponent in the ribs after the last.

A wince, a sharp inhale, but then another simple combination from Pengfei. Another counter from Daoping. The junior disciple attacked relentlessly but it was the senior who was doing all the damage. A punch to the face, another to the gut, kicks to the inside and outside of the legs. Two cuts on Pengfei’s face leaked little streams of blood.

He spit some red phlegm to the ground and squared up to attack Daoping again. This time he flicked his hand forward just a bit, an imitation of one of his simplistic attacks.

Daoping blocked a punch that wasn’t there and received a real one to the nose a moment later.

Pengfei reveled in his success for a moment before Hongyu pushed him to the ground from behind. The two older disciples set about kicking their victim as he lay curled up on the ground.

Their assault only lasted a few more moments before other disciples pulled them off. Pengfei unfurled himself and lay spread out on his back as the two attackers backed away. He observed Daoping’s bloody nose and the messy remnants of Hongyu’s dinner all over the front of his shirt.

“Worth it!” Pengfei called out to them as they walked inside, cursing him.