Bookshelf Battle

Flames danced all over Junjie’s hands.

“How do you feel, my son?” the master asked.

“Better than ever,” Junjie replied.

The hero scrambled up a tree, swung from a branch, then popped a few fireballs out of his hands and into the sky before landing on his feet like a cat.

“And I know a lot of things I never knew before,” Junjie said. “In my mind, I can see images of what the world looked like long ago, when men lived in caves and acted as animals.”

“Shaoshang’s arrival on earth predates recorded history,” the master said. “You see what he saw.”

Junjie frowned. “He delighted in pain and misery. I can see…the faces of his victims.”

“And yet, you are still you,” the master said.

“Of course,” Junjie said as the flames around his hands died down. “I would never want to be him.”

The master wagged a finger toward his student. “But you could.”

“I could?” Junjie asked.

“You could and yet you could not,” the master said. “A happy conundrum. In theory, you posses the physical power necessary to conquer the world but you lack the desire to do so. You could be like Shaoshang, but then again, you could not.”

Junjie shadowboxed for awhile, throwing his fists into the air against a non-existent opponent. “Dragonhand won’t know what’s coming for him.”

The master sighed. “You still have much to learn.”

Junjie stopped boxing. “What?”

“Two opponents now have been able to exploit your weakness,” the master said. “Dragonhand and Shaoshang both sized you up and instantly realized that you feel inferior for having never known your parents.”

Junjie leaned up against a tree. “Did you know them, master?”

“I did,” the master said.

“Why did they not love me?” Junjie asked.

“Oh, young one,” the master said. “Do not believe the lies that others cook up in order to seal your doom. You were very much loved.”

“I wish I could believe that,” Junjie said.

“You doubt your master?”

“I doubt myself,” Junjie said.

“Very well,” the master said. The ghost turned into a fine mist and swirled through the air for a while before burrowing into Junjie’s ear.

Shocked, the hero fell to the ground. There he laid, twitching and convulsing until his eyes closed.

The master’s voice filled Junjie’s brain. “If you will not believe me, then see the truth through my eyes.”

Junjie’s eyes popped open. He was on his feet now, but he wasn’t in the forest. He was at the tiger claw clan’s sanctuary, during a time long before its destruction. He felt smaller and shorter. He looked at his hands, only to notice they were boney and wrinkly.

“Huh?” Junjie asked, only to instantly realize he was speaking in the master’s voice.

A young man that looked like a bit like Junjie approached with a wrapped up bundle in his arms.

Junjie’s spirit remained silent as the master did all the talking. “Honghui.”

Honghui dropped to his knees and held the bundle up towards the master.

“I have failed you, Infallible Master,” Honghui said. “I have failed my love, my clan, myself. Please, take this little one before I fail him as well.”

Junjie watched through the master’s eyes as the old man’s hands moved the blanket to one side to reveal a wiggly, black haired, wide-eyed baby.

“You are much too hard on yourself, Honghui,” the master said.

“It is deserved,” Honghui said. “But Junjie deserves better.”

Suddenly, everything went black. When Junjie woke up, he was back in the forest, still lying in the dirt. He looked up to see the master’s ghost standing over him.

“What was the meaning of that?” Junjie asked.

“I will explain when the time is right,” the master said. “But for now, the meaning for you is that you must not doubt yourself, for your father certainly did not.”

As Niu and the Whirlwind entered the camp of the Clan of the Mediocre Yet Effective Club Bonk, there was great frivolity afoot. Members ate, drank, danced and partied.

“This is unlike any kung fu clan I have ever seen,” Niu said. “Where is the discipline?”

The Whirlwind sipped wine from a skin, then wiped the excess from his lips. “We don’t really care for rules here.”

At that moment, a friendly game of checkers turned ugly as one player accused the other of cheating. Fists were thrown. Faces were smashed.

“I can see that,” Niu said.

The Whirlwind smiled at the ruffians. “Keep at it, boys. That’ll work the stress right out of you!”

“Perhaps you should order them to stop,” Niu said.

“Why would I do that?” the Whirlwind asked as he passed the wine skin to Niu.

Niu pushed the skin away. “Because you are their master.”

“Meh,” the Whirlwind said. “We aren’t exactly a cohesive unit. People come and go as they please. I’m not really a ‘master’ per se. At best, I’m more of an informal organizer.”

A stark naked drunkard emerged from his tent and puked his guts out.

“There we go, friend,” the Whirlwind said as he patted the drunkard on the back. “Feeling better?”

The drunkard nodded.

“Here, take a pull of this,” the Whirlwind said as he handed his wine skin to the lush. “It’ll fix you right up.

The drunk man nodded, took a drink, then handed the skin back to its owner. The Whirlwind took another drink, then continued to walk through the camp with his guest.

“That will not help him,” Niu said.

“I don’t know that it will not, not help him,” the Whirlwind replied. “What are you? One of those pansies who goes through life sober?”

“The fates wouldn’t have given me my wits had they wanted me to dull them,” Niu said.

“Maybe,” the Whirlwind said. “But then again, would the fates have allowed for the existence of a dazzling array of fermented beverages capable of knocking you out if they didn’t think every man deserved the occasional mental break from a dangerous world from time to time?”

“Are you a fatalist?” Niu asked.

“No,” the Whirlwind said. “Just a pragmatist.”

The Whirlwind stopped in front of a large tent and walked inside, bidding his guest to join him. Inside, Niu marveled at the sight of gold pieces and glistening gems being sorted and counted by the club bonk clan’s members.

“You’re all thieves,” Niu said.

“‘Thief’ is such a crude word,” the Whirlwind said. “We prefer the term, ‘wealth redistributors.’”

“Have these riches always been yours?” Niu asked.

“No,” the Whirlwind replied. “We pinched them.”

“Then you stole all of this,” Niu said.

“From the rich,” Niu said. “To give to the poor.”

Niu shook his head. “It doesn’t appear as though you are very poor.”

The Whirlwind shrugged his shoulders. “We used to be poor and funny thing about poverty, you never know when it will come back to bite you in the ass again.  ‘Better safe than sorry,’ I always say.”

“I have no idea what my master was thinking,” Niu said. “Asking me to train common criminals.”

“Criminals?” the Whirlwind asked. “Friend, there’s nothing common or criminal about this. The Emperor’s absurdly high tax rates, courtesy of that pile of feces in the shape of a man, Advisor Zhen. That’s what’s criminal. We steal from the Emperor’s tax collectors and sometimes, from the Advisor’s friends in high places. We give most of the loot back to its rightful owners but we’re no dummies. We keep a slice.”

“The kung fu clans have always come to the Emperor’s aid when needed,” Niu said. “We’ve never taken it upon ourselves to interfere with his commands, whether or not we agree with them.”

The Whirlwind walked past a series of barrels holding all manner of pilfered fruit. He picked up an orange and started peeling it.

“Yes, well, that’s why you are all chumps.”

The Whirlwind caught himself and patted Niu on the shoulder. “Were chumps. I was quite saddened when the news of the tiger claw clan’s demise made its way to me.  Undead warriors.  Ghosts in the company of giant bald men.  My eyes have truly opened to the supernatural.”

Niu brushed the Whirlwind’s hand aside.

“This,” Niu said as he waved his arms about the tent full of treasure. “All of this. This is why your clan was never recognized as a true kung fu clan.”

The Whirlwind popped an orange slice in his mouth and swallowed. “Oh well. No skin off my balls.”

The big man was furious. That emotion was a rarity for him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then glared at the informal organizer.

“If you’re going to help the Infallible Master and I save the Emperor, you’re going to have to change your ways and start acting like a kung fu warrior,” Niu said. “No more stealing, drinking, or gambling. You’ll wake up before sunrise and train until bedtime. You will embrace discipline and clean living, all in the name of service to your Emperor.”

The Whirlwind stared at Niu with a deadpan expression on his for a moment, then pointed at the big man and laughed. Soon enough, the rest of the club bonk clan members joined in.

“Oh,” the Whirlwind said. “That was good.”

“What’s so funny?” Niu asked.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” the Whirlwind said. “The Emperor doesn’t have a lot of friends here. I’m sure he’s a fine little fellow but as long as Advisor Zhen runs things, we aren’t itching to get ourselves killed just to allow a unfairly punitive and confiscatory tax system to reign supreme. What’s in it for us?”

Niu considered the question. As he watched the nimble fingers of a club bonk clan member stacking gold pieces, an idea presented itself.

“Though I am loathe to say this,” Niu said. “I suppose during the chaos that is about to unfold at the Forbidden City, my first priority would be the Emperor’s safety and therefore…”

The Whirlwind listened patiently.

“…if a certain group of criminal thieves…”

The Whirlwind coughed into his hand and corrected Niu. “Wealth redistributors.”

Niu rolled his eyes. “If a certain group of wealth redistributors were to abscond with the Emperor’s wealth, I would no doubt be too distracted to do anything about it.”

The Whirlwind ate another orange slice, then winked at the big man. “I like it.”

The informal organizer turned to his merry band of wealth redistributors. “You hear that boys? We’re going to save the Emperor, then rob his ass blind!”

A chorus of “Hooray!” broke out throughout the tent.

“Very good then,” the Whirlwind said as he took a pull from his wine skin. “How hard could it be to learn kung fu?”

Niu smiled, then backhanded the wine skin out of the Whirlwind’s hand, sending a fruity scented booze spray throughout the tent.

“You have no idea.”

Shaoshang sniffed the air. “You reek of fear, whelp.”

Junjie’s hands trembled as he raised his fists.

“Bah ha ha!” The monster guffawed as he slapped his knee. “Oh, Yaozu! What a gaggle of women your clan has become if this is the best you were able to bring me.”

The master turned to Junjie. “Ignore his insults. Pay no mind to his games.”

“Are you going to cry, little girl?” Shaoshang asked.

Junjie looked at the beast with stone faced defiance.

“Why don’t you just step aside?” Shaoshang asked. “Clearly, you are a failure.”

“I’m…” Junjie stopped and gulped. “I’m not.”

“Your master is dead,” Shaoshang said as he paced to and fro, dragging the chain behind him. “Yet you are so weak he must carry you even in death.”

Junjie gritted his teeth. He squeezed his fists tightly, putting so much pressure on his fingers they looked as though they might pop.

The beast grinned. In doing so, he lit up the room with his shiny, dagger-like teeth. “Does your master wipe your nose and your bottom for you too, little one?”

That did it. “Ahhhh!” Junjie shouted a battle cry as he lunged at the monster, only to be repelled back by a flawless kick. The monster took great pride in making his moves seem effortless.

“Will you cry when Dragonhand rules China?” Shaoshang asked. “Will it pain you to your core to know that so many people died because a worthless nothing was called upon to save them?”

Junjie stood up. Without thinking, he sprang to his feet and fired off a kick at the monster. It did not connect. Rather, Shaoshang caught his opponent’s foot and used it to flip Junjie through the air.  The hero landed on his backside.

Shaoshang sighed. “This is what you get for taking in orphans, Yaozu. People don’t feed stray dogs and abandoned children for a reason.  No one in their right mind wants what others have thrown away.”

Finally, the hero landed a punch. Junjie assailed the monster’s abdomen with rapid fire punches. Shaoshang took seven or eight hits before he swatted his attacker away.

Swoosh! Woosh! Like two sets of sharp knives, Shaoshang’s claws passed over Junjie’s head again and again, coming closer to shredding Junjie into ribbons each time. The chain attached to the creature’s neck clanked loudly across the floor.

Junjie stepped backward. He and Shaoshang eyeballed one another.

“I can’t imagine what a sad disappointment you were to motivate your parents to look at you and say, ‘Eh, we won’t miss much if we rid ourselves of this little shit.’”

Junjie lost control. He ran at the monster. Shaoshang sidestepped the attack, then picked up a length of his chain, twirled it, and wrapped it tightly around Junjie’s neck.

“Yes,” Shaoshang said as he yanked up on the chain. “You want to give up. You want this agony to end. You want to be free of a lifetime of failure.”

Junjie’s face turned red. He slapped at the beast’s claws to no avail.

“Shh,” Shaoshang said. “Let it happen.”

The master stepped in front of Junjie’s face. “Disciple! Your focus must only be on your opponent’s defeat! Nothing else!”

“Erghhhh.” Junjie’s muscles strained as he tugged on Shaoshang’s claws.

“Every opponent has a weakness,” the master said. “Find his!”

Junjie’s face turned purple. He stomped on Shaoshang’s foot. The monster roared in pain. The hero stomped and stomped until Shaoshang let go.

“Gahh!” Junjie gasped for air. He ran forward and turned around. Shaoshang was angry. His body was in motion and he was on a collision course for Junjie.

Shaoshang ran and ran until…CLANK! He reached the end of his chain.

Junjie marveled at the sight before him. The vile demon strained and struggled but the chain prevented him from moving any closer. He took a few swipes, but Junjie easily dodged them.

The hero chuckled.

“And what are you laughing at, whelp?” Shaoshang asked.

Junjie ran into Shaoshang’s space, pummeled the beast, then returned to safety just before…CLANK! The monster was stymied by the chain once more.

“Your weakness,” Junjie said.

“A lucky shot,” Shaoshang said.

Junjie lept into the air and sent a flying kick toward the beast. Shaoshang took three shots to the face before Junjie landed. The hero backflipped out of the monster’s perimeter just in time to avoid a razor claw swipe.
“You’re cheating,” Shaoshang griped. “Just like the First Master of your joke of a clan!”

Junjie backed up…and up….and up…putting plenty of distance between his body and the monster.

“I knew your bitch would give up, Yaozu,” Shaoshang said.

“Wait for it,” the master replied.

Junjie ran toward the beast. Shaoshang’s claws burst into flames as he hurled a barrage of fire balls at his opponent.

The hero gained momentum. He picked up speed. Soon his body became an unstoppable force, one that rammed right into the creature, knocking him off his feet.

Shaoshang attempted to stand, but was pulled back to the ground by his chain. He looked up. Junjie was holding it.

“No,” Shaoshang said.

Junjie nodded his head up and down as if to say, “Yes.”

Out of sheer desperation, Shaoshang reached for his collar and tried to remove it, even though he had not been able to do so in thousands of years. He braced his feet against the ground but was not able to slow Junjie from pulling his catch in.

“Damn it, Yaozu!” Shaoshang cried. “This is not fair!”

The master shrugged his shoulders. “A win is a win.”

Junjie wrapped the chain around Shaoshang’s neck and yanked on it.

“I’m sorry,” Junjie said as he turned his right hand into a tiger claw. “Please forgive me.”

“No!” Shaoshang cried. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Bash! Junjie’s tiger claw tore through the beast’s skull.

“Ugh,” Junjie said as he felt the slimy demon brain in his hand. “Do I really have to, master?”

“I’m afraid so,” the master replied.

Junjie winced as he pulled the brain out. A lengthy section of spinal chord came with it.

“Disgusting,” Junjie said as he turned his nose up at the prize. “It smells awful.”

“Most brains do,” the master said. “Demon brains, more so.”

Junjie held the brain with both hands and stared at it. “I don’t want to go the way of Bohai.”

The master smiled. “You couldn’t if you tried. Eat.”

Ever so gingerly, Junjie pressed his tongue against the brain. He pulled back quickly and dry heaved. “Bleh.”

“You must gain the knowledge, my son,” the master said.

“Well,” Junjie said. “Here goes nothing.”

The hero closed his eyes and brought his teeth down on the demon brain. He bit into it and fought back the urge to vomit. He teared a good sized piece off and let it roll around in his mouth. His eyes watered and his stomach churned as he chewed. Inside his mouth, he could feel every vein, every bit of meat, every drop of blood.

Gulp. It went down.

“I don’t have to eat the whole thing do I?” Junjie asked.

“No,” the master answered. “And that you don’t want to speaks volumes of your character. Do you feel any different?”

Junjie looked at his hands and was taken aback as they burst into flames. He stared at them for awhile, then turned them off with his mind.

“I’m going to say yes,” Junjie replied.

“Good,” the master said. “Light your way back to the tank. From there, I will show you a secret passage to the forest.”

Junjie lit up his hands again. “You’re not coming?”

“I’ve served as Shaoshang’s jailer for a thousand years,” the master said. “There are certain duties I must tend to. Go along. I’ll follow shortly.”

Junjie nodded and headed up the winding staircase.

The master waited alone in silence for awhile until…poof! A giant red ghost popped up beside him.

“You do realize that there were at least four or five times when I could have snapped that boy in half had I wanted to?” Shaoshang asked.

“Excuses, excuses,” the master replied.

“I doubt this Dragonhand fellow will be as accommodating,” Shaoshang said.

“That is none of your concern,” the master said.

“And what of our deal?” Shaoshang asked.

“That is also not a reason for concern,” the master said.

“I didn’t throw a fight just to be cheated, old man,” Shaoshang said. “I’ll sneak your soul into Diyu so that you can begin your penance, but don’t think for a second I’ll let you out of your end of the bargain.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Yaozu said.

“You’ll serve twenty thousand years as my slave and not a day less,” Yaozu said. “You’ll make up for every day I was imprisoned by your pitiful clan.”

The master nodded. “I am a man of my word.”

“Even with the knowledge of my brain, the boy will fail,” Shaoshang said. “Fear drips from his every pore. The smallest slight causes him to doubt himself. Dragonhand will make short work of him.”

“My concern,” the master said. “Not yours.”

“Part of me hopes your whelp fails,” Shaoshang said. “It’ll be fun when the world is crushed under the foot of a dark warrior. Then again, I do so want that warrior to be me. When I’ve paid my debt to the Yama Kings and return to their good graces, I will move on the Dragon Throne. You can thank yourself for setting that in motion.”

“I must take my leave,” the master said.

“You’re not worried?” Shaoshang asked.

“I can only concentrate on one maniac bent on taking the Dragon Throne at a time,” the master said.

“I can’t believe your disciple apologized to me before taking my brain,” Shaoshang said.

“He’s polite,” the master said. “And pure of heart.”

“That’ll get him killed,” Shaoshang said.

“Perhaps,” the master said. “But to be impure of heart is no way to live.”