Elder Rulan led the way to the Veneration Hall, and they stood in the waning sunlight of the afternoon, alone except for the statues of the Three Pure Ones.

“Well?” Chen Rulan asked, expectantly, but not unkindly.

‘Shit, this was a stupid idea.’

The silence stretched as Pengfei searched for, first, the right way to phrase his request, and when that failed, a plausible excuse to exit the situation.  The elder seemed content to let wait in silence.  Time stretched on, until the boy cracked.

“Please accept me as your disciple!” Pengfei blurted, bowing low as he spoke.

“Hughh…” Chen Rulan sighed and reached out a hand to raise Pengfei’s posture.  “This… this seems like a long conversation.  Let’s sit.” 

They crossed their legs across from each other on the wooden floor.  Pengfei fidgeted nervously, now his turn to wait through an awkward silence while the other party gathered their thoughts.  A group of several Jin disciples poked their heads into the Veneration Hall, perhaps hoping to practice their neigong, then read the room and departed quietly.  

“Why do you want to become a direct disciple in the first place, Pengfei?”

“I’ve realized recently that I really do enjoy the martial arts.  And I want to be good at it, go beyond the basic training.”

“Uh huh… and why…well, it was Chen Weidao who won the match.  Why didn’t you ask him to be your disciple?”

“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me.”  Pengfei looked abashedly at the floor as he revealed his indirect rejection by Elder Weidao.

“So, I was your second choice?  Or is it worse than that?”

“No!  That’s not it!  I – “

“Hahaha!”  Elder Rulan’s laughter cut through Pengfei’s hurried apologies.  “I was just teasing you boy.”

Pengfei chuckled nervously and continued.  “I just meant, I’m not a very good swordsman.  And I’d rather learn something I’m more interested in.  I was hoping you would teach me more of the sect’s fist methods.”   

“A strange request.”  Chen Rulan observed.  “While we have had masters specializing in a multitude of weapons throughout our sect’s history, we’ve primarily been known for our prowess with the jian.  The fist… less so.”

“Yes elder.  It’s just, there is something powerful and fierce about fighting bare handed.  Like when you fought Elder Weidao without your sword just now.  It was amazing.”

“I see.  It seems you have found your first love, haha.  Might as well be the fist, I suppose.”

“So… you’ll take me as your disciple, sir?” Pengfei asked again, hesitantly.

Elder Rulan sat quietly as the question hung in the air.  The man stroked his beard absent mindedly for long seconds before finally looking up at the disciple.

“No, Pengfei.  I have my reasons, a thousand and one of them, but they mostly have nothing to do with you.  I’m happy to give you a pointer from time to time, but I can’t take you as my student.”

“Oh.”  Pengfei’s chest constricted in anxiousness and all he wanted to do was run away.  He stood and bowed to the elder, saying “Thank you for your time – “ 

“Wait, boy, sit and – “ 

But Pengfei was up and moving, disregarding all notions of propriety.  But the elder did not call him out on his rudeness, for leaving before permission was granted.  Out in the cold air once again, the young man shook.  Part weather, part dread.  The embarrassment of what had just transpired washed over him.

‘What was I thinking!?’

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

“What were you thinking?”  Shutian chided.

“I don’t know.”  Pengfei said glumly, looking down at the iron pot where rice was absorbing heated water. 

“The whole idea is idiotic.  You don’t need any more ties to this place holding you down.  What if he had accepted you as a direct disciple?  It’s not a casual thing.  You would have needed his permission to leave the sect, even after the gates opened again.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought of that part.”  Pengfei conceded.

“Whatever.”  Shutian grumbled.  “You need to stir, you’re burning the rice.”

Pengfei moved a wooden spoon through the pot and Shutian continued chopping meat for the evening meal.  It was once again their dormitory’s turn to prepare food for the week.  They had come to the Dining Hall after the afternoon’s training had been cut short, Pengfei late due to his discussion with the elder.  Not one to hide his misfortune, Pengfei had already informed his friends of the rejection. 

Xiaotong broke the tension, speaking casually.  “Take the money and run.  Just four more years, and you can do whatever you want.”  He nudged Shutian in the ribs, teasing, “Just don’t take off before we’re officially allowed to, or I’ll send Pengfei after you again.”

The three of them, even Shutian, laughed at the memory.  Shutian’s attempt to run away, and the subsequent chase, had glued them together in friendship, along with Neng and Nanxi. Reminded of the others, a thought occurred to Pengfei.  

“I see the twins over there, but where’s Nanxi?”

The others just shrugged, offering no insight into the boy’s absence.  He didn’t reappear until the work was over, and the rest of them had sat down at their usual table to eat their own meals. 

“Someone has finally recognized my greatness.”  Nanxi declared as he threw one leg then the other over the bench.  “Chen Zi has asked me to be his student.”

“What!?”

“Congratulations.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Wait, wait a second.”  Pengfei stemmed the tide of remarks coming from the others.  “Who is Chen Zi?”

“Oh, they’re all the same.”  Nanxi waved off the question.  “The point is, out of all the Jin disciples, he chose me.”

“What is his focus?  What is he going to teach you?”

It was Neng who answered.  “The jian.  ‘The Silent and Scentless Sword Stroke’. Why did he choose you of all people?”

“He said it was for my deep spiritual insight.”

The entire table laughed out loud at this.

“You?  The same guy who likes to smear goat shit on the heads of poor unsuspecting idiots?”  Xiaotong asked in faux astonishment, drawing a muttered “Screw you” from Pengfei.

Nanxi waved his chopstick at them all and said, “I’ll have you know that finding the humor in the mundane is one of the greatest hallmarks of the wise.”    

“I expected better of you, Nanxi.”  Shutian rebuked.  

“Yeah, I thought you didn’t want a master.” Pengfei said, recalling their previous conversation.  “What happened to doing the bare minimum and enjoying life?

“Pengfei is just jealous because he got rejected by another elder.  Chen Rulan this time.”  Xiaotong explained.

“What can I say?  Elder Zi, no, Master Zi, appealed to my vanity.  Besides, he says I only need to meet him once a week.  And it comes with some perks.  The pros outweigh the cons”

Pengfei smiled and congratulated Nanxi with the rest, but real happiness was absent from his eyes.  He was jealous, just like Xiaotong had said.  Another friend, chosen above him, moving ahead and leaving Pengfei behind.  Catch up and fall back again.

Neng was understandable.  With or without a sword, he was one of the best martial artists in the sect.  But Nanxi?  He might be Pengfei’s superior when it came to the jian, but the gap was much narrower when empty handed.  Hadn’t the elders noticed that?

‘No, the recognition isn’t what’s important.  It’s the martial arts I enjoy.  Even if no one teaches me their advanced techniques, I can still learn a lot on my own.  It’ll just be a pain in the ass…’

Pengfei was brought out of his sullen musings by the conversation around him.  Nanxi adopted an air of superiority and gave exaggerated lectures to his friends on all their shortcomings.  The others laughed uproariously, even the misanthropic Shutian.  Pengfei chuckled along with them and joined in with the rest of the group in pelting Nanxi with scraps of food when his antics wore thin.

‘Still, a little bit of recognition would be nice.’

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

Several days passed in normal routine.  Pengfei’s exile from the Scripture Hall continued.  The training in qinggong under Chen Ji was sporadic.  Sometimes the elder was happy to let the disciples practice their lightness techniques under his relaxed supervision.  Other times, such as today, he worked them to the bone with a much stricter eye.

But even by Elder Ji’s unpredictable standards, this morning’s treatment was particularly harsh.  Xiaotong, Shutian, and Pengfei jogged along the mountain path, carrying enormous ceramic jars of water, suspended on either end of large sticks slung across their shoulders.  The head of the Discipline Hall followed close behind, completely unburdened, of course.

Pengfei attempted to use ‘Three Twists of the Dragon in the Clouds’.  He circulated the qi in his lower dantian, trying to reduce the weight of his steps, but his meager reserves did little to lighten his burden.  When that didn’t work, he focused on moving the energy through the meridians in his legs.  The aid to the muscles was more noticeable.  It reduced their full-throated shrieks of agony to muffled shouts.  

It didn’t take long for the elder to reveal the reason behind the day’s sadistic trials.

“Pengfei!”  Chen Ji shouted loud enough for the disciples to hear as they bounded from rock to rock, above the snow.  “I hear you met with Elder Rulan recently.  He found your parting to be quite insolent.”

‘Oh no.’  

Shutian and Xiaotong looked at him with fire in their eyes that burned even hotter after the elder’s next words.

“I assured him I would correct your behavior.  You and your friends will be very busy for the foreseeable future.” 

“What did we do?” Shutian hissed under his breath to Xiaotong.

“And Elder Rulan has also requested you come to his residence to complete some chores at the end of the week.  I trust you’ll be more polite by then.”

“Yes sir!”  Pengfei shouted his assurances, the only acceptable answer, but grimaced inwardly.  Not just at the prospect of whatever tortures Chen Ji had in store, but also at the offense given to Chen Rulan.  He had been avoiding the instructor all week, blending in with the crowd during the group lessons in the afternoons. 

‘I was rude storming off like I did, but I didn’t think Elder Rulan was the type to take offense at something like that.’

The hike with the water jars was arduous, though fairly short.  But the work was not done even at the end of the journey.  The three disciples found themselves in familiar territory.  The top of the cliff overlooking the cells carved into the mountainside.  Where the three of them, as well as Neng, had spent weeks in isolation.  None of them had been back since being evacuated, their punishment ended early after Pengfei had found that severed arm.

“Xiaotong, go back for the dry stores.  Shutian, down the side.”

“Shit.” Shutian cursed, then began carefully easing himself over the edge and down the cliffside as the elder watched, standing ready to defy gravity and snatch the disciple mid-fall if necessary.  Pengfei found himself envying Shutian when Xiaotong disappeared back down the path and he found himself alone with the erratic elder.  

Pengfei watched over the side as his friend descended then entered the cell below.  After a few minutes, a rush of water went sloshing out of the cave and flowing down the rocks, leaving them dark with the moisture.  The large urn of stagnant water Pengfei had survived on during his isolation emptied, to be replaced with the contents of the ceramic jars they had carried from the sect.  

Pengfei tied the nearby rope around the first of the jars and lowered it carefully over the edge and down the cliff.  The elder tapped his foot impatiently as the process carried on.  Jar after jar went down to Shutian, refilling the stores in the cells. 

In the short breaks, while waiting for the signal to retrieve the jars, Pengfei surveyed his surroundings nervously.  Curiosity and anxiety eventually got the better of him, and he ignored his good sense, choosing to address Chen Ji during one of his obvious sour moods.

“Is it safe to be out here, sir?” 

“What are you talking about, boy?”

Undaunted by the elder’s curt tone, the disciple pressed on.  “Isn’t the Mountain King still out here somewhere?”

A sharp eye turned to examine Pengfei at those words.  Chen Ji appraised him for a long moment, then looked back over the precipice.

“Where did you hear that name?” the old man finally asked.

“When we came back from the cliffs last time, I overheard the Sect Leader talking.”  

“You little sneak.  You’re not supposed to know about him.” the elder grumbled, but then continued.  “The Mountain King isn’t a danger to us.”

“He seemed dangerous to me.”  Pengfei said, remembering his close encounter in the canyon.  The near-miss while he fled atop Horse.

“You saw him!?”  Chen Ji grabbed Pengfei’s arm, nearly making the boy drop the rope he now pulled back upward.

‘Shit.’  Pengfei quickly groped for an explanation.  Readily, the environment provided the fodder for his lies.

“It was when I was still here in the cells, sir.  I saw something at night, a shape on the cliffside.  I didn’t say anything earlier because… well, I thought I was crazy.”

A tense moment passed where Pengfei worried the excuse would not pass the scrutiny of the suspicious elder.  He kept his eyes down on the rope, pulled it hand-over-hand back up the cliff. 

Finally, Chen Ji spoke again. “Yes, I suppose you would think that.”

The danger of discovery passed, Pengfei continued his questioning.  “Elder, what is the Mountain King?  I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“There is some species of leopard in these mountains.  Different than what you might see in Shanxi or Gansu. It’s made for the cold.  I don’t know what you would call it.  An ice leopard.  Snow leopard.”

“It’s … just a leopard?”

“Heavens no.  Maybe it started out its life like any other.  But now it is a spirit beast.  Fed on the yin energy of these mountains for who knows how long.  Ten times bigger than the rest of its kind.  It’s been a protector of our sect for generations.  It winds its way from here to Qinghai.  Always reclusive, sometimes decades between sightings.  You were very lucky to have glimpsed him.”

“Lucky, right.  You say it protects our sect?  So it wouldn’t try to, say, eat me?”  Pengfei shivered, still feeling the rush of wind that had passed by as the Mountain King had leapt for him, coming so close in the dead of night.  

“Enemies of the sect perhaps.  Those damned bastards in black seem to have gone to war with him.  We’ll never know who started that fight but rest assured the Mountain King got the better of the exchange.  Still, he has never harmed a member of Kunlun.”

Pengfei took the rope and wrapped it around the next jar of water, then proceeded to lower it to Shutian below.  The ceramic bumped the cliff face in places, scratched against the stone, but did not break before a hand reached out from the opening below to take the weight.

‘I almost made history.  Could have been the first disciple of Kunlun to get himself eaten by a giant snow leopard.’   

He was back to that night, riding Horse, head bowed against the wind.  Hooves thundering.  Stealing glances back behind as he fled the impossible creature.

Chen Ji seemed to recall something, picked up the dropped thread of conversation once again.  “Just never run from him.  When prey flees, it is natural for a predator to chase.”

“Ugggh.”  Pengfei groaned at the advice that could have served him so well if he had heard it earlier.  Then, sensing the elder give him a look, he remembered his manners. “Thank you, sir.  That’s… that’s good to know.”