Nanxi attacked and Pengfei defended.  The straight punches were easy to parry.  Pengfei responded with an identical attack but when his opponent blocked, he trapped the hand and came over the top with a backfist, stopping the blow before it made contact with the nose.

Nanxi sighed in acknowledgement of his little defeat, but continued sparring.  They went back and forth, each landing blows ranging in power from light taps to the face and head, to gut-wrenching thumps to the body.   

The boys gritted their teeth and exhaled when absorbing the harder impacts and hissed out with each strike they threw.  

“Alright, that’s it for today!” Chen Rulan called an end to the sparring and the training session as a whole.  

Pengfei and Nanxi walked towards the Dining Hall, both breathing hard but upright after a particularly grueling training session.  The commands of Elders Rulan and Weidao had pushed all the Jin disciples, but they had also pushed each other.  As their strength and stamina improved under the increased training regimen of the recent months, they found themselves able to fight longer and harder.  Competitive spirit drove them to use their new attributes in longer and fiercer bouts with each other.  

“You’re an asshole.”  Nanxi puffed.

“What did I do?”

“You got better.  Now there’s one less person whose ass I can regularly beat.”

Pengfei didn’t credit it, and argued with Nanxi, “I’m just in better shape.”

“No, it’s more than that.  You don’t retreat as much anymore.  It’s harder to push you around now.” 

Pengfei hadn’t noticed it himself but had to concede Nanxi was right.  In the past, he had tried to dance out of every attack’s range, constantly backpedaling, often finding himself pushed farther than he would have liked.  What had changed?

‘Whatever it is… it feels nice.’

He comforted Nanxi at his own expense, “Well, at least I still suck at swordsmanship.”

“That’s true, you are reliably awful at that.”

The rest of the usual group joined them for dinner.  Xiaotong tried his best to replenish the chubby cheeks he had lost by piling an enormous amount of food on his plate.  Shutian was more gaunt than ever, but seemed no more miserable than usual at least.  The twins, Tianwei and Tianxun, were as unchanged as they were silent, constants of nature.

“You lot aren’t sneaking out again, are you?” Neng asked as he sat down with his own portion of dinner.

Pengfei looked at the others.  Nanxi nodded excitedly, which meant the twins would follow as well.  Hearing no objections from Xiaotong and Shutian, he was forced to disappoint his friend.

“Yeah, I think we will.”

Neng sighed with mock disappointment.  “You guys need to concentrate on your training.”

“Tomorrow’s our day off.  Besides, this will probably be the last of it.  You sure you don’t want to join us?”

“Forget it, Pengfei.  Neng is one of our generation’s geniuses, you won’t be able to tempt him.”  Nanxi cut in, then whispered sarcastically behind the back of his hand.  “I hear he sleeps with his training sword!”

The entire table, even Neng, chuckled.  But there was a kernel of truth to Nanxi’s joke.  Neng was clearly devoted to learning the jian.  He continued to excel at barehanded techniques as well, still Pengfei’s superior there, but the gap had narrowed in recent months.  On the other hand, their differences in skill with the sword had only become more pronounced.

Annoyingly, Pengfei couldn’t attribute the change in his friend to any one fact.  Yes, Nanxi had been well ahead of him to start with.  And yes, Nanxi was talented.  And yes, he clearly worked hard.  It seemed he was even skipping the daily neigong practice to train on his own.  His absences there could no longer be ignored by the rest of the disciples.

But it was more that that.  Plenty of other disciples had innate ability, and put in the hours, but few had the same noticeable rise in skill recently, detectable even to Pengfei’s amateur eye.  

‘Must be nice.’ 

There was a hint of jealousy, only natural when looking at greatness.

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

Any ill feelings were forgotten by the time the boys were donning their coats, sneaking outside into the dark. The rules were laxer on the sixth night of the week, preceding the day of rest.  The elders turned a blind eye to the boys’ carousing, within reason.  But they still had to make some minimum effort to avoid detection, even if it was just for appearances’ sake.  

 Snow was falling, the heaviest so far this year.  Their breaths steamed like fire pouring out of the mouths of demons.  Pengfei faced off against Tianwei and Tianxun, while the others sat on rocks watching the mock fight.

One twin took the horse stance and the other hopped onto his brother’s shoulders.  They even spoke in coordination, a departure from their usual silence.

“You cannot defeat the – “

“Twin – “ 

“Dragons – “ 

“Ascending to – “ 

“Heaven!”

Their little tower teetered as Tianwei took two steps forward, Tianxun trying to balance while holding his hands out in a dramatic guard.

Pengfei toppled them both with a weak push kick to the base.  They all laughed, made more merry by the jar of wine being passed around.

“I guess you have a new job.  Do you have a title?  Master of the Horse Hall?”  Nanxi held the jar out to Pengfei, who took a long drink.

“Master sounds good.  Remember to call me that when you are working under me.  I’m going to tell the Sect Leader that I’ll need your help.  If you guys are still willing.”

Everyone present nodded, though Shutian grumbled as he did so.

“I guess this means we’ll be spending more time outside the sect.  Freezing our asses off.”

“Yeah, probably.”  Pengfei conceded.  “You’ll need to learn to ride, more than the rest of the Jin disciples.  Getting the animals to move how we want will take practice.  I don’t have much experience with that either, so we’ll have to figure it out over the next few years, before we take the big herd to Qinghai.  But at least it will get you out of your other duties.  I can’t wait to get out of the Scripture Hall.”

Since returning from Hotan, Pengfei had resumed work under Chen Weidao in the library.  He had appreciated the ease of the assignment at first but hours of transcribing old texts on obscure Taoist practices into new books had soured him on the position.  

“What about Neng?”  Xiaotong asked.

“If he wants.  I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

Neng, the only one of their cadre who lived in a different dormitory, was also the only one absent from the drinking party.

“So, if we work with you, does that mean we’ll go to Hotan to pick up the first thirty horses in the spring?”  Nanxi’s eyes flashed with glee unrestrained glee.

“Probably.”

“And while Nanxi is out drinking and whoring we’ll all be getting our asses kicked by those Tibetan lamas.  What’s the deal with them again?”

Pengfei just shrugged at Shutian’s question.  He had told them all about the events in Hotan.  Pema’s kiss in the desert had prompted jealous hisses from the others, but the aggressive monks had confused them as much as Pengfei.  T

The other events of his journey he had kept to himself.  The fight with Guoyu.  The man’s death.  The Mountain King.

Pengfei took a long drink from the jar of wine and passed it along to the others.  His eyes lost focus and he stared out over the mountains, lost in his own world.

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

Pengfei directed his internal energy through the circuits of his body, through the meridians corresponding to the five major organs and their paired opposites.  The instruction had gone slowly in the beginning but as he learned to direct his qi, Elder Chen Lei coached him through larger portions of ‘Mystical Heaven Infinite Skill’ each week.

“You’ve completed the basics.  The more you practice, the more internal energy you will accumulate.  You still have quite a lot of catching up to do in that regard.”

“Yes, elder.”  

“Have you begun using qi in your martial arts yet?”

“A little.  Elder Rulan has been helping me with the ‘Heaven Shaking Fist.’”

“Good.  You should find someone to teach you some qinggong as well.”  Chen Lei waved to his Medicine Hall students who were nearby, addressing them in an impromptu lecture.  “As you may recall, examining someone’s internal energy can lead to useful diagnoses.  For example, the turbid qi from this disciple has revealed an overindulgence in alcohol.”

‘Shit.’

“So, let’s treat the poison for what it is.  I’d like you all to prepare a draught for detoxification of the blood.  Pengfei will drink each, and we will observe the results.”

‘Shit!’

Pengfei’s curses turned out to be prophetic.  The different remedies concocted by the students purged the toxins from his body in various undignified ways.  A stinking, black, sweat was the least unpleasant.  He was left physically exhausted by the time he left the Medicine Hall in mid-afternoon, wishing that Elder Chen Lei had just sent him to the Discipline Hall upon discovering evidence of his drinking.  

He made his way toward the Dining Hall in order to replenish his bodily fluids.   As he was about to enter, he saw Neng out of the corner of his eye, walking through the sect carrying a training sword.

‘Still need to ask him if he wants to join our ‘Horse Hall’.  Where’s he going?’

Pengfei followed Neng through the buildings, walking a bit quicker than usual to catch up.  But they didn’t come within earshot of each other until Neng had reached his destination.

“Hey.  What are you doing at the Scripture Hall?”   

“Ah, Pengfei, I’m just – “ 

Chen Weidao opened the door of the library and stepped out, interrupting the conversation.  

“Ah, you’re here.  Let’s begin.”

“Forgive me, elder.”  Pengfei cursed his luck.  “I didn’t realize you had work for us today.”

“Not for you.  Just Neng.”

“Oh!”  A stroke of good luck, but he was feeling generous.  Pengfei put aside the thoughts of abandoning his friend and offered his assistance.  “But I have nothing pressing to do.  I can help with…whatever the task is.”

“This is something for my disciple to do by himself.”

“Your… I’m sorry, I didn’t know.  So, he’s your… and I’m not.”

Pengfei stemmed the flow of disjointed words spilling out of his lips as the realization came slowly, working its way through the surprise that clouded his mind.  The elder had taken Neng as his disciple.  And only Neng.

Pengfei bowed to the Elder Weidao before turning to leave.  There had been talk that some of the boys had been assigned to their jobs in the sect because the supervisors wished to take them as direct disciples.  And Elder Weidao had seemed to pay special attention to Pengfei’s and Neng’s training in the evenings.

‘But he was just watching Neng, not me.’

“Hey.”  Neng reached out a hand to Pengfei’s shoulder, having chased the boy down.  “Are you okay?”

“Huh?  What are you doing?” Pengfei could see Elder Weidao looking at them expectantly a short distance away.

“He offered while you were gone.  I was going to tell you, I just felt weird since…” Neng drifted off awkwardly.

“Since he took you as a student and not me?”

“…Yeah.”

“Don’t worry about it.  He’s supposed to be the best swordsman in the sect, and you’re one of the top disciples.  It makes sense.”

“I guess so.”

“So, you’re probably not going to be able to switch jobs with the rest of us?  Your master will probably want you to stay close.”

“He made it pretty clear that I have to stay in the Scripture Hall and train in any downtime we have.”

“Damn… “

“Yeah…”  Neng looked behind at the impatient Chen Weidao. “I think I need to go.”  The boy nodded a goodbye and went to join his master.  They both disappeared behind the library, undoubtedly to pass on the advanced and secret teachings the master swordsman had accrued over a lifetime of dedication to the blade.

‘I’m not jealous at all.’

Pengfei left his friend to his training and meandered through the sect grounds.  He had only given passing consideration to being Chen Weidao’s disciple over the previous month.  Even though the man was his savior, even though he had seen the elder’s prowess firsthand, Pengfei had never truly imagined studying under him. 

‘Still, doesn’t feel good to be passed over like this.  And now it feels like the jian is farther away than ever.’

It had always seemed like there was something else to finish before he could commit himself to the straightsword.  Empty-hand techniques, neigong, physical training, and of course all the duties and lessons that came with being a disciple in the sect.  It was too much.

‘I guess it’s too late now.  Too late to study under Chen Weidao, anyway.  Elder Rulan said this would happen…’

He thought back to his punishment at the cliffs.  Elder Rulan had come to him in the cave.  Warned him that the training at the sect would increase in intensity, that he was in danger of being left behind.

‘It’s not as bad as all that.  I’m doing better every day at my barehanded techniques.  My progress isn’t as noticeable now that everyone is training just as hard, but the sword will probably come along eventually.  I could be average at least.’

‘…’

‘Average.  Nothing wrong with average.’ 

‘…’

‘So, why does it feel so crappy?’