Pengfei followed the same path the disciples used for their morning runs but found it unfamiliar this early in the day. Everything looked different in the dim light of dawn. It took longer than he expected to reach the broken statue where he would normally turn back to the sect, and after passing it he was in unknown territory.
Elder Chen Weidao had said the path was straightforward, just straight down the mountain to the grazing lands below. It would take most of the day to make the journey on foot and this long distance was why the disciples stayed down in the valley for a week at a time.
“I should’ve brought food. Starving!”
Pengfei spoke to himself aloud to fill the silence. The only other sounds were wind and the occasional caw of a bird. Seeing vultures fly overhead reminded him of the prank Daoping and Hongyu had played on him.
“Bastards.”
The terrain slowly began to change as the hours passed. Tufts of grass could be seen here and there. The mountains straddled the border and now Pengfei was heading to the north, toward Xinjiang. The contrast with the Tibetan land to the south was subtle but noticeable. More greenery, even some wildflowers.
He had at least remembered to bring a flask. The sun and temperature both rose and his heavy coat came off around midday. A few minutes rest under the shade of a large boulder, . taking conservative sips of water, then back on the trail.
Shortly after what should have been lunch time, two of Kunlun’s disciples came around a bend in the path, headed back up to the sect. They were soon followed around the turn by a yak pulling a wooden cart.
“Hey”
“Hi.”
The two other disciples took Penfei’s appearance as an excuse to stop and rest.
Pengfei examined their beast of burden. He was more familiar with the water buffalo of the Central Plains but had seen many of these stouter creatures on his way through Tibet. The yak cart carried maybe a dozen goats and large covered baskets of feed.
When he saw the disciples munching on food of their own, Pengfei asked, “You have any extra?”
One of them wordlessly handed him some jerky which he ate eagerly.
“Why are you alone?”
“The disciple who was supposed to come with me has a sore on his leg. It got infected, so he has to stay at the sect for treatment. But Elder Weidao said someone else will be down in a few days.”
“Right, someone will bring this cart back down.”
The three disciples chatted for a few more minutes then parted ways again, one downhill and the others up.
--Looks like it’s a lot harder going back to the sect than in it is coming down.-- Pengfei thought to himself.
The bleating of the goats could be heard for several minutes as the next week-worth of meat made its way up to the mountain.
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A couple more hours of trudging and he finally reached his station. The mountain path faded until it was no longer discernible from the rocks but Pengfei could see his goal clearly by that point. A large stream trickled down from another side of the mountain and ran downhill to the north, through a green valley. There were goats, sheep, and a surprising number of yaks dotted around, feeding on the grass or sipping at the stream.
A two-story stone and mud building stood in center of the valley. Pengfei knew it was a barn that the goats huddled in at night and that it also served as a smelly shelter for the disciples-turned-herdsmen.
He made his way along the stream and then up to the building to stash his bag of personal belongings.
“Shit!” The animal smell was thick inside, enough to give him pause at the entryway.
Pengfei climbed the ladder to the second floor reserved for humans and took a quick survey. The only signs of human presence were some bedrolls and barrels of dried food tucked in one cramped corner. The rest of the landing was taken up with tools and supplies.
He extracted his martial arts texts from his bag and stuffed them in his robes then set about a bit of housekeeping. Shooed a few goats outside and swept out the dung that littered the dirt floor. Finally, he stepped out into the sun to breath clean air.
A familiar face was there to greet him.
Neeeigggh.
A horse, a Tibetan mare, was stomping its hooves on the ground just a few paces away from the front door of the building. Its black coat glistened in the sun.
“Whoa, where did you come from?”
Pengfei squinted his eyes in disbelief as recognition dawned on him.
“Hey, aren’t you…?”
It was Ma Feng’s horse, the one he had ridden across the plateau. The one he had died on.
“I thought Pema must have taken you.”
Pengfei reached out his hand to soothe the anxious beast as it bucked and brayed. She seemed to calm as she approached, looked as if she would place her forehead right underneath his outstretched palm.
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But at the last second the mare turned her head and bit down hard on Pengfei’s fingers.
“FUUU….. Son of a bitch!”
He yanked his hand bank and held it tight in an attempt to ease the pain. The horse whinnied mischievously and pranced away.
“What the hell was that about?!”
Pengfei’s group had procured new horses in Nagqu when they met Pema. According to her, the local breed was more suitable for the journey across the plateau than the animals they had ridden from Sichuan.
They had quickly decided on personal favorites and ridden them for the duration of their journey through Tibet, though never becoming attached enough to name the animals. While Pengfei had not interacted with Feng’s mount much, she had never been this hostile towards him.
“So, I guess you’re not going to help with the herding?” Pengfei shouted at the mare. He didn’t see a saddle anyway. That normally would not have been much of an impediment to him but the story was different with an unwilling animal.
“You know, I hear horse meat tastes pretty good. Maybe I should find out for myself?”
The mare bayed at him then went back to grazing. Pengfei clicked his teeth at the animal, then looked around the scattered herd. He reluctantly trudged off to the north end of the valley to take stock of the situation in the pastures.
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In the brief instructions he had given, Jin Shutian said to focus on the north end of the valley to prevent animals from following the river downstream. So, Pengfei headed in that direction.
It was a leisurely stroll once he relaxed, and in the end there was not much work to be done. The well-behaved herd naturally kept close to the barn. He journeyed to the nearest bend in the valley, and when Pengfei was satisfied that no animals had gone further, he sat to rest.
The Kunlun disciple perched on a rock and pulled the martial arts tomes from his robe. He flipped through the pages of the ‘Heaven Shaking Fist’ and quickly reviewed the postures and techniques he was already familiar with.
The crude drawings depicted human figures executing attacks and holding stances. There were footwork diagrams and lines indicating movement, all relatively simple. This fist style was little more than the basic strikes, a few tactics, meant for swordsmen who found themselves suddenly unarmed. But even with its rudimentary nature the written material was difficult to interpret.
Neng was right, Pengfei could only understand the first section because he had seen it in real life. The large movements were mostly glossed over, more focus given to minute details. There was a suggestion to imagine a pulley connecting the arms behind the back, to guarantee retraction of the opposite hand when striking. An argument on whether to step with heel or toe. If he hadn’t heard some of the same before, he would be completely lost.
--I can’t imagine trying to learn the techniques from scratch with this. Stories about kids finding manuals in secluded caves and mastering martial arts… they’re all bullshit.--
Interpreting the texts seemed to be a matter of skill and experience in and of itself.
The images drawn on the paper could never capture the thousand little components that made up even a single strike. The turning of hips, spinning of the arm, tucking of chin, step of the foot, and so on. Pengfei imagined that only when a person already understood these general principles could they pick up such a manual and understand it fully.
--I’m still a long way off from that.--
But the section that Neng had suggested he focus on held few difficulties. Pengfei digested the words and images and tried to fix them in his memory. Subsequent pages detailed more sequences of attacks and counters, full of verbose metaphor and subtlety. He skimmed past until something different caught Pengfei’s eye.
“What’s this? Looks familiar.”
Instead of a martial arts posture or a footwork diagram there was a map of the body’s meridians identical to what was in the ‘Mystical Heaven Infinite Skill’ manual. But the accompanying passage did not explore how to cultivate or purify the body’s qi. Instead, it detailed the method of channeling the energy through the hand for a strike. Another image showed a familiar attack.
“Thundering Sky Strike? It just looks like a normal punch.”
Pengfei thought of the amazing feats of martial arts he had seen demonstrated. Lunges across impossible distances, stone shattering strength, sword strokes that could cleave people in two.
“Are they just normal techniques infused with internal energy? It seems too simple. But maybe that’s the point behind circulating qi…”
He was incredulous but set his disbelief aside for another day. Instead, he returned to the familiar and basic techniques, standing to practice what little he knew. Stances held statically for several minutes until the legs ached and burned. One such posture involved balancing on a single leg and Pengfei had to catch himself several times as he teetered from side to side with every gentle breeze.
Then he began the forms which contained the core techniques and footwork of the martial art within their movements. He went back to reread the text after completing each section to check if he remembered all the hidden implications in each wave of the arm.
--This could be a block or an attack depending on whether or not it was accompanied by this step?--
Even after Neng’s helpful explanations there was too much to recall.
When Pengfei reached the limit of what he could imitate in the forms he transitioned to practicing the strikes he had learned in isolation. One hundred punches with this arm and then another hundred with that arm. His fingers throbbed in his clenched fist where Feng’s former horse had bitten him but the skin was unbroken.
He tried to forget the pain and focus on the synchronization he had felt in his fight against Hongyu and Daoping. That first punch he had landed. But something wasn’t quite right in his technique.
--Can’t quite get it again…--
It had been mid-afternoon when he rode out from the barn and now the sun was sinking into early evening. Pengfei jogged back to the south end of the valley to tend the herd before nightfall.
Once back, he carried out several instructions as he recalled them from his memory. He filled several wooden troughs with oats to supplement the herd’s diet of grass. The animals that were not already at the barn trotted back when they heard the familiar sounds of food hitting the planks.
Pengfei avoided Feng’s horse as it trotted up for its share of feed.
The Kunlun disciple was not as excited about his own dinner. The only things for him to eat were mealy grain balls and tough jerky.
He ate outside with the animals to avoid the smell of the barn. The sun was blocked out by the mountains before it truly set, leaving the valley in an eerie false night while the peaks were still illuminated by the last rays of the day.
“Shit, I should start a fire.”
He looked around for kindling, but there was nothing. No trees for a hundred li. Nothing to use as fuel nearby.
His nights were normally occupied with hours more activity than this. Between dinner and avoiding abuse from his fellow disciples in the dormitory before sleep, his evenings were usually full. But now there was nothing. Not even a light to read by.
Pengfei donned his coat and sat in the chill night air amongst the animals as they milled about.
The stars were not yet out and it was too dark for anything more than the most basic physical activity.
--Can’t go to sleep yet…--
Pengfei assumed the lotus position and attempted to practice what Elder Chen Lei had shown him of the sect’s neigong technique.
--Breathe in and out.--
In. Out. In. Out.
Pengfei tried to sense a spark inside his dantian, the repository for internal energy within his body’s core. After the doctor’s first examination, he knew he should be physically capable of cultivating the natural energy, but he still couldn’t sense it.
He kept trying but frustration cracked Pengfei’s facade of calm and led the way for more intrusive thoughts.
--I wonder if those killers in black are still out there somewhere? Elder Chen Lei said they had left the area… but maybe they came back?--
--No, no. I’m just letting the dark get to me. The isolation. I haven’t been this alone in…. ever.--
He forced his eyes closed against the night. Looked for his qi again. Only to stand bolt upright a moment later.
--Nope, can’t do it! Too creepy out here!--
The vaulting sky and towering mountains were suddenly overwhelming. Pengfei went inside the foul-smelling barn to close himself off from the enormous world. The goats rushed in with him to take their customary nighttime place away from the cold outdoors. He climbed the ladder to the cramped second story and put his back up against the wall.
The factors against sleep were too numerous. The smell and sound of the animals. The normal anxiety of a lonely youth in the dark and the trauma of someone who had survived a brush with death. Cold. It all combined to rob Pengfei of every second of rest. He sat there with his back against the wall shivering and waiting for dawn.
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“I hate you smelly little bastards!”
Pengfei burst from the barn with the first rays of morning sun and unleashed a stampede of goats, all clambering to escape the barn and run free.
He staggered a few steps, taking in his surroundings and startling the larger animals that had been sleeping nearby. Ma Feng’s horse lifted its head from where it lay side-by-side with a yak.
“That’s unnatural. Have some respect for yourself.”
The mount sniffed the air as Pengfei walked by, then stood and trotted away with an offended whinny. Pengfei held his robe to his nose and sniffed.
“Uggh! Alright, I get it. It’s bad.” A night spent in the barn had soaked his clothes in the odor of the goats.
In the light of day, all-consuming terror seemed like a silly irrational fear. Pengfei walked north again and set up a sort of camp at the far end of the valley.
He made a sluggish practice of his martial arts but the fatigue of a sleepless night made his efforts mediocre at best.
Near the bank of the river there was a boulder that provided enough shade for Pengfei to lie down and nap. The morning passed easily that way.
He did not wake up until someone kicked his foot.