Published: March 2nd 2025, 9:22:26 pm
During the winter, orange-crest did not often attend the beginner quarterstaff classes. Not for fear of his fellows, nor deficit of energy. When he neglected to attend Disciple Chang's lessons, he usually found other ways to exercise his body. Ice-fishing was good on the Azure Mountain, likely due to the lack of competition. Some days his brother would give the monkey pointers on hand-to-hand combat, claiming the exercise did his stiffened muscles good. Other days, he would visit formless-gleam or even Daoist Enduring Oath, rushing headlong down the mountain paths in an effort to keep the cold from sinking into his bones.
No, it was a far smaller thing that that kept the monkey away from class.
Orange-crest got cold feet. Literally.
Bare branches held little snow, a thin shell of powder easily shaken free. Hardly a obstacle at all for an energetic young monkey. But Disciple Chang's clearing was bare frozen ground, without tree cover. The snow fell deep and thick, and the stomping of initiates quickly churned it up into a morass of frozen slush. For a young human in robes and boots, it was deeply unpleasant weather. A single fall could leave you shivering for the rest of class, as the back of your robe froze solid.
Disciple Chang thought it excellent weather for training.
But orange-crest, whose bare and furry feet were subjected to the frozen muck without reprieve, thought it torture.
His brother offered him shoes of course. It was an obvious solution, and his brother was nothing if not a devoted fan of obvious solutions. First a pair of the same heavy boots the initiates wore, stuffed with cloth.
Orange-crest had felt like his feet were encased in stone. How was he to run trees or turn on a leaf when he couldn't even grip the ground with his toes?
Daoist Scouring Medicine had offered a pair of slippers next, the sort initiates wore in the warm months and true daoists wore year round. But those too he had rejected. They were even worse than the boots, in exchange for a modestly less impaired footing, they offered only a few minutes protection against the elements before becoming as sodden as bare fur.
There were solutions for this problem too apparently. How like men, to have solutions for the problems their solutions created. Brother Scouring Medicine spoke at length about them. But orange-crest found the keep-your-feet-dry technique his master demonstrated impossible to maintain in a sparring match, and Daoist Scouring Medicine did not have the money to commission enchanted shoes for his disciple.
And so the monkey went about barefoot, and only attended class on drier days.
"It's here again."
"Come now brother, you can't expect human discipline from a monkey. Be happy it hasn't bit anyone in weeks."
Orange-crest ignored the comments. Sometimes he shot back with his own, far cleverer, insults. But these humans were not pack, and he felt little need to jockey for position among them.
"Big Chang!" He greeted instead. "Looking very fierce."
"Li Hou." The instructor greeted him. "You have been slacking in your martial training. Half-hearted effort has never produced a warrior of note."
"Am busy." Orange-crest lied. He had time. There was less chopping to do these days, now that his brother was forbidden from selling his pills. "Learning secret techniques and alchemy and making spirit wine."
That part was true.
"Mm." Disciple Chang hummed. He didn't actually care. He'd discharged his responsibility as an instructor with the first sentence. Whether its excuses were true or not, he knew better than to engage with the animal's nonsense. It only lead to trouble.
Orange-crest continued onward. He had such a good relationship with Instructor Chang.
"Furface."
Oh. It was the fat one who'd tried to get revenge after orange-crest had cracked his nuts like partridge eggs. Orange-crest was struggling to remember his name. Wei? Wu? Wang? There were too many humans with the same name. It was an entirely silly system, defeating the whole point of names.
Still, furface was a cut politer than he'd been calling orange-crest before. Hmm... Big-butt was taken. Fatty was taken a dozen times over. Orange-crest had thought it was a family name for a few weeks. The recipients of the epithet certainly shared a certain resemblance.
"Fat Buttocks!" He returned, receiving a confused wince in response. Perhaps that one needed work. He'd been reading a lot of anatomical books lately. He kept moving. He didn't need another fight today, and had no idea what had motivated Fat Buttocks to feud with him in the first place.
"Monkey." Yang Wei greeted quietly. The dark wood of his staff never stopped moving as he flowed through a series of Crane Stance moves. He was the only one already practicing, ever impatient for instruction.
"Human." Orange-crest didn't stop moving. Only a foolish monkey always sparred with the strongest of the pack.
Orange-crest found a spot between one of the older disciples and a female. Much safer than the hungry young men vying for pack-rank. Sometimes the girls sniped at each other, or made faces like he smelled, but
Disciple Chang started them with calisthenics and conditioning. A two big fun words for making your juniors torture themselves. Under Disciple Chang's cruel watch they began by running in great circles around the glade. Then they began to leap high and duck low at his call, keeping up the run all the while. Any too slow to move got pelted with a small rock. Big Chang loved throwing those at people.
After the leaping and sprawling came the pushups. Those were easy for a monkey. Less so for men. Far less so for women. After another sequence of running and leaping, came the hitting. Disciple Chang lined them up, and ran down the line delivering brutal blows to their guts. Any who heaved up their lunch or fell to their knees was punished with yet more running, while the rest of the class recovered.
It was frustrating, watching the other disciples grow. They improved so fast. Their weak lungs grew stronger, as the softness of their former lives was beaten out of them. Orange-crest was falling behind. No longer did he easily lead the running pack, now he had to huff and puff furiously just to keep himself in the middle.
Size simply could not so easily be denied.
Human legs were longer than his, forcing him to take two strides to match each of theirs. Human arms were longer, and shoulders broader, and soon Yang Wei's blows were not the only ones that rattled his bones when he blocked them. Over the passing months more and more disciples had advanced, reaching the first or even the second stage of qi condensation. Yang Wei was still stronger than any of them. He had not yet broken into the third stage, according to the other disciples. But he was very close. Orange-crest doubted he could bind him for more than a few moments now.
Orange-crest was faster than any. More agile. A better climber. But none of those things meant very much, when he sparred against a young man twice his height.
It didn't feel fair. That others gained twice as much while working half as hard. But orange-crest was used to that. He'd always been small, always been weak. He'd tasted what it was like to be strong for once. And he was so very hungry for more of it.
And so he ran until his knees screamed and his breath tasted like blood. He ran like he might catch Yang Wei, no matter how far ahead the man pulled.
Only after all this torture, were they finally allowed to learn.
But then, as they Big Chang took up the tell-tale falsely-unbalanced posture of crane stance, something unexpected happened.
Three disciples arrived midway through the class.
Orange-crest smiled. Disciple Chang did not like it when people were late. If he was in a good mood, he kicked them out of class. If he was in a bad mood, well, anything might happen.
"Good, we're just in time." The lead disciple said loudly, pitching his voice for all to hear.
"And who would you be?" Disciple Chang asked, his voice cold as a serpent in wait.
"I am Outer Disciple Xiao Long."
Whispers sprung up among the students. Apparently that meant something.
Orange-crest thought Xiao Long looked rather like if someone took the face of a girl and put it on the body of a man. He was tall for a youth, top-heavy with strong arms. His hair hung down to his butt, framing a pale, symmetrical face even a monkey could tell would be considered comely by his kind.
And his qi was powerful. Bright and sharp, like proud airy laughter. The third stage of qi condensation as men reckoned it. Stronger than orange-crest's.
Big Chang scrunched up his nose like he'd bit into a lemon.
"Grab a staff and find a space. I will expel you, if you cannot keep up."
"There will be no need for us to impose upon the sect's largesse."
Xiao Long flicked his empty hand. In the next moment, he was twirling a staff every bit as fine as Yang Wei's. He passed it to the woman on his right, then summoned two more.
"I saw him at the initiation ceremony! He's already in the third stage? That's incredible. Even Brother Yang and the monkey are only in the second."
"He has a storage ring! I thought the Yang family were wealthy. An outer disciple with a storage ring is just obscene."
Disciple Chang flared his qi, cutting off the gossiping.
"Crane stance, second kata." He barked. "We begin with Crane Surveys the Waters. Note the bend in my knee. If your joint is locked, you will not have the mobility to transition into Severs the Reeds or Beats the Grass. Crane stance has little utility at your level, but as you progress, you will find the chambered leg affords you a great many options for including punishing kicks into your combinations. You are not depriving yourself of a second leg. You are letting your staff and raised leg each each function half as a readied weapon and half as another point of contact. A true expert cares not for uneven ground, for each end of his staff, and each of his hands, can serve as a foot in a pinch."
Disciple Chang swung his staff forward in an overhead chop, then kicked off his lone grounded foot. As he spun into a frontal flip, his staff ripped through the air twice more. A powerful kick finished the combination, shattering the air. Orange-crest could just barely see his staff behind him, pressing into the ground to stabilize his position.
"Don't try the flip. You'll break your necks." Disciple Chang said offhandedly. "Surveys the Waters into Shatters the Stillness. Try it against a tree if you think you've got it. If your technique is good you shouldn't lose stability no matter how solid a guard you kick into."
As disciples broke off into small groups to practice the moves, orange-crest could hear Xiao Long providing a running commentary to his companions.
"The Beast Dances are a second tier staff art, but they're a solid foundation for novices. The Xiao Clan's Skyfire Stave is a far superior art, but it requires at least a basic mastery of a flame projection technique. You'll have access to that when we're married, Mei'er."
"Am I performing the movement correctly, Young Master Xiao?" Mei'er asked.
Orange-crest peeked at the trio out from the corner of his eye. She was not doing the motion correctly.
"Outer Disciple!" Xiao Long shouted imperiously. "A student has a question for you."
Ooh, he was in for it now. Nobody ordered Big Chang about.
"What is the problem, Disciple Xiao?" Big Chang asked politely, fury simmering behind his eyes. Orange-crest licked his lips. Any moment now, he would explode in righteous fury.
"Mei'er, show him."
Disciple Chang grunted.
"Lower your center of gravity. You should feel a continual burn in your thigh from supporting yourself. Choke up more on the staff, you should extend it only during strikes and hold it high otherwise. Crane stance is intended for a balanced and wide hold."
"Like this?" The woman asked, moving more smoothly. Her green robes fluttered as she struck at the wind.
"Better." Disciple Chang said. "You're still locking your knee. Work on that."
"Yes, Mei'er. A looser stance will come with time. Thank you, outer disciple. You may go."
Orange-crest's eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head. Where was the Big Chang who had sat on him for an hour! This popinjay needed a good sitting on, unlike the wise and humble monkey.
Orange-crest practiced the combination alone. The movements were simple, but he could tell it wasn't quite right. Even if he were stronger, he couldn't hope to flip from this position as Big Chang had. He must be doing something wrong with his legs.
Time passed quickly, as he worked variations on the strike.
"Pair off!" Disciple Chang shouted. "Light sparring, we'll work new combinations after."
Orange-crest looked around, hunting for a partner.
"Disciple Xiao, I see your party has three members. This Wan Hui would be honored to trade pointers with one of you."
"You're in the first stage, and you think you're qualified to trade pointers with me? Or perhaps you were aiming for Mei'er?"
"Nothing of the sort, Disciple Xiao. If my presence is unwanted I'll-"
"You'll do what? Scuttle away, like the bug you are?"
"Young Master Xiao." The third disciple interrupted. "Did you not wish to assess Yang Wei's progress?"
Orange-crest made a decision. If this human wanted something, he wanted him not to have it. The girl-looking man already had too many things. Nobody really wanted to spar with Yang Wei, so he was always one of the last disciples to partner up. The man had no understanding of the phrase 'light sparring'.
Orange-crest scurried over.
"Human." He greeted Yang Wei again. "You're my partner."
"Very well." Yang Wei agreed easily. It was never difficult to get him to agree to a spar. Orange-crest wasn't sure the man had any other interests. "Where have you been?" Yang Wei asked, twirling his staff.
"Busy. Winter is busy time for alchemists. This monkey has been fighting spirit beasts, learning secret arts, and making powerful pills."
Yang Wei's eyebrow rose in mocking-doubt.
"I see. "Let's see if you've improved, Li Hou. I certainly have."
Ugh. This would be annoying. Orange-crest couldn't even show off his new illusion-tricks. Not only were they supposed to limit themselves to only martial skill, the illusions weren't exactly reliable. When he was sober, the technique only worked one try in ten. The odds got better as he started drinking, but it was still far from certain. One in two at best. Despite all his practice, the state of mind required was just too tricky to access at will.
"Oh? What is this?" Xiao Long's voice was like rancid meat. It seemed fine at a distance, but up close, it made a monkey want to wrinkle their nose.
"The monkey is Li Hou. He is recorded as Daoist Scouring Medicine's disciple. Rapidly advanced to the second stage of qi condensation, before stagnating." Xiao Long's male companion supplied. Orange-crest didn't like him. Summarizing people without their permission was rude. A monkey could introduce himself.
"The Hou." Xiao Long drew out the second character's sound. Orange-crest shivered. He didn't like the way that man said 'Monkey'. It made him feel... Unclean.
"Will you not greet me, Disciple Yang?"
"My apologies, Disciple Xiao. I am occupied with a challenger."
"You can't be serious. You're going to snub me in favor of the monkey? I came all this way to see how my old friend was doing."
"We'll have to catch up another time." Yang Wei's voice was as cold as the Fathomless Well. "Old friend."
"Come now. I'm sure Disciple Chang wouldn't mind if we made it a group exercise."
Orange-crest looked over at the man in question. Normally, he would have intervened the moment disciples began congregating. Instead he stared on in silence. What was this Xiao Long, to make even Big Chang hesitant to get involved?
Yang Wei's fingers tightened around his staff. The air grew heavier, as his qi rose.
"I already have a sparring partner."
Orange-crest had no idea what was going on. But between the rival he knew, and the arrogant partridge who had strutted into class like he owned the place, he knew who he was siding with. He stoked his own qi, ready to trap or deceive.
Xiao Long ignored him. He only had eyes for Yang Wei. Orange-crest itched to pop him in the chin. Could he move fast enough? He didn't like the way Xiao Long's male companion held himself, the way he looked like he was ready to move in an instant.
"I see you have yet to take my advice." Xiao Long continued. "Why do you even bother with this trash? You know as well as I that come year end, only four or five of us will matter. Why waste time with those who will squander their potential to live as soldiers or servants?"
Yang Wei sneered at Xiao Long. The expression looked terribly odd on his face. Orange-crest had seen him violent, and angry. He was always proud and imperious. But never had he seen the young man wear such an expression of disdain, not even for the least and most annoying of his fellow disciples.
"The Azure Mountain Sect offers this class. My honored uncle says martial inspiration can come from anywhere. I find Disciple Chang a most able teacher, and am proud to learn under him with my brothers and sisters in the sect. His lessons are a worthy supplement to the teachings of The Storm that Walks."
"Yeah!" Someone shouted, concealing themselves in the gawking crowd for safety. "You tell him Yang Wei!"
Perhaps hearing his name, Disciple Chang finally began moving toward the knot of disciples that had gathered around the feuding five.
Disciple Xiao Long's smile promised violence.
The two men had drifted closer to each other. Orange-crest found himself drawn behind Yang Wei, as Xiao Long's two compatriots followed him. He wanted to step forward, say something rude to Xiao Long. Or at least be seen, rather than lingering at Yang Wei's back matching Xiao Long's companions. But he wasn't sure he wanted the man's full attention.
"So you neglect your cultivation to play with a monkey?" Xiao Long used only polite words, but the venom in his tone was clear to all. "I hadn't known you were such a lover of animals. Did you leave behind a pet monkey behind at home? Or does he remind you of your cousins? I'm sure his mannerisms are not so different, from those of the country bumpkins that you call a family. Perhaps the monkey's presence among you initiates is less inappropriate than I had thought."
He wanted to play like that? Fine. Orange-crest could play like that. The monkey shifted, drawing attention. He caught Mei'er's eye.
"Mei'er." The feuding disciples fell silent, the moment orange-crest said the name. The girl met his eyes. Orange-crest knew immediately from the tender quiet that he'd picked the right target, the unguarded flank. "I'm sorry your young master is a rude butt. Who looks like a girl."
There was no warning. No foolish shout of 'You dare!'. Disciple Xiao Long simply struck, his staff rising, and descending, in one smooth motion. The striking end blurred, a summer day's haze gathering around it.
Orange-crest was ready, already blocking. To his surprise, he wasn't alone.
Two staves held back Xiao Long's blow. Orange-crest felt the heat of it bearing down on him. Snow melted around his feet and the wood of his staff began to blacken, as he and Yang Wei struggled to hold back Xiao Long's might.
Their qi rose to match his, reducing the pressure.
A commotion rose around them. Xiao Long's aide stepped forward, abandoning his staff in favor of a pair of daggers withdrawn from his robe. He moved for orange-crest.
But a massive figure stepped in his way. Fat-buttocks. Initiate Wu caught one of the man's wrists, stopping his charge cold.
The aide flinched, opened his mouth, and turned. His other knife was rising toward Initiate Wu when Disciple Chang finally arrived.
He did not shout. He did not need to shout. His qi passed over them like a wild wind. In its wake, Xiao Long's heat was snuffed out, and every disciple was left breathless.
"Enough of this. You are disciples of the Azure Mountain, not children."
"This." Disciple Xiao Long hissed. "Is not over."
His staff withdrew, giving lie to his words. Disciple Wu released his aide. He turned to leave, his fellows following.
"The four or five disciples you mentioned?" Yang Wei's voice cut through the silence. "The ones destined to matter, as the rest of the initiates settle into more modest destinies? Li Hou will be among them. I'm rather less convinced you will be."
Disciple Xiao Long smiled, all traces of hatred gone from his face.
"I truly look forward to the next time we cross blades, Disciple Yang Wei. I will enjoy disgracing you in front of your honored uncle."
Disciple Chang turned and left, seemingly satisfied a crisis had been averted.
"If you are not sparring in the time it takes me to return to my position, you will spend a week in the tender care of the Punishment Hall."
That dispersed the crowd quickly.
Disciple Xiao Long looked about. He still didn't have a partner.
"Fatty. You saw fit to stand against my aide. Be honored, to receive pointers from his master. Let's see if I can beat some moderation into you."
Disciple Wu protested. Orange-crest shot him a sympathetic look. But Disciple Xiao's aide and fiancée immediately crossed staves, leaving the unfortunate man without any other opponent to challenge.
Yang Wei's blows immediately left orange-crest on the back paw. He wasn't kidding, he had indeed improved. Even without his impregnable defense, orange-crest could hardly land a blow through the human's superior footwork.
"Why?" Orange-crest asked as they fought.
"Why?"
"Why did you stand up for me?"
Yang Wei laughed, the butt of his staff tagging orange-crest's elbow painfully.
"Do you have any idea who he is?"
"No."
"But you got in his way anyway. He didn't even care about the monkey in the class, before you stepped in front of him. And yet you did it anyway."
"His face is stupid."
Yang Wei easily blocked orange-crest's riposte. Oh this was getting old. If only he could fake him out with an illusion striking high.
"That's why. If you're brave enough to insult the heir of the main branch of the capital's Xiao clan, a third cousin of the emperor, how could you bear to lose to anyone except me?"
"Not gonna lose to you."
Yang Wei stepped in, bracing his staff against the ground. Even with only one hand, the extra point of contact allowed him to easily blocked orange-crest's strike.
His other fist took the monkey in the face, sending him head over heels into the snow. Orange-crest groaned, tasting a thin rivulet of blood.
"Well, then I guess you had best stop skipping practice."
Orange-crest was thoroughly confused now. He had no idea if he liked Yang Wei or not. But he was definitely going to beat some humility into him. Advance his cultivation. Refine his body. Master illusions. Mash Yang Wei like a persimmon. See about this Xiao Long. It was a plan.