Maybe it's me, but as this fic goes on, these chapters keep getting harder and harder to write. I hope to get this monster finished by the time the sequel comes out, because, hey, if I have a deadline, I can make it so!...Right? I'm sure there are mistakes here, but I'll go through later to fix up any errors.
Disclaimer: you should know the drill by now, but for lawsuit-prevention purposes...I don't own KFP, but I own the OCs and this plot. Thanks.
Chapter 16: Whipping into Shape
This was not the way Shifu wanted to end the year. He was a man (well, red panda) of routine, a perfectionist (who transferred said perfectionism into his two adopted children), and was happiest when he knew what to expect. Most years around this time, he was preparing for the Dong Zhi festival, which usually involved setting together the feast for the twenty-nine masters that represented all the provinces in the empire. That was a daunting enough task in itself, but, as he also favored formality and uniformity above any amount of chaos, it was a task he actually enjoyed.
This year, on the other hand, he had that feast to prepare for – by himself, now that Po was elsewhere and probably not likely to make it back in time to plan and prepare like he had the previous three years – plus an invasion to plan against, a grandchild on the way which was being borne by a snow leopardess two twitches away from a nervous breakdown, and now faced the possibility of (re)training the apprentice of the most notorious bogeyman in recent history, and on top of all that, he also had his four houseguests to worry about.
Captain Zang Deshi had been in a bad mood the past couple days, more so than usual. Whatever had been in that most recent correspondence had not been good news for the black horse, but that meant it was good news for the Dragon Warrior and Tai Lung, whatever it was. The cadet, Hu Quon, had gotten better in recent days, which was a damn near miracle if Monkey and Mantis's individual testimonies were true. The tiger youth had been in bad shape, and was now, blessedly, out of the woods. Though Shifu trusted the youth to an extent, he feared that someone so young was easily influenced by someone as untrustworthy as Zang.
But, the red panda was nothing if not devious; being small had its advantages sometimes, and one of those advantages was strategic planning. And, with help from his wife, learning to "kill them with kindness".
"I'm actually very glad that you will be here for the Dong Zhi festival, Captain," Shifu said, shortly after breakfast on the day Sonam would begin Dalang's training. The red panda wanted to keep the soldiers as far away from the training grounds as possible, and it helped that it was so cold outside. Even soldiers as accustomed to the outdoors, Corporal Liu, Lieutenant Gao and the aforementioned captain and cadet were all cozy in the kitchen, with Zang employed in a game of chess with the Jade Palace's grand master. Shifu grudgingly admitted to himself that Zang was a damn good player, which made sense. And, he told himself, it was only good manners to allow your guest to win a few rounds of chess. At least its not mahjong, he told himself, if he was any good at that, I'd be broke.
Zang moved a rook and waited for Shifu to make his move. "And why is that, Master Shifu?"
"My understanding," Shifu said as he stroked his whiskers in thought, "Is that you haven't met many of the masters who will come here for the feast – I'm afraid due to space, you won't be invited, but the afterparty is far more enjoyable. It would be an excellent chance to network. That, and the chef we hired this year is one of the best in China." Shifu wisely left out that said chef was likely starting his training with an ex-assassin right as they spoke.
"That sounds delightful," Zang said without any real feeling. "Isn't Tai Lung's child due around that time?"
"Thereabouts," the red panda said guardedly.
"Ah. Good news for the Mrs., I trust? How is she?"
"She's well. Eight months along, still healthy, knock on wood." Shifu made a move, stealing one of Zang's pieces. "Mei Xing is in good spirits, as she has reason to be; she and the baby both appear strong and healthy."
Zang didn't say anything to that, and they carried on their game in silence for a while. The horse made a move – in more ways than one – later in their game. "So where is Tai Lung?"
Shifu's hand paused over the piece he was about to move. The red panda raised a quizzical brow and asked the black horse, "You've waited this long to ask me? You could have asked me the day you met me, and I would have been happy to oblige you."
"I did ask you," Zang said through a clenched jaw. "You denied any knowledge whatsoever."
Damn! "Really?" the red panda asked calmly, despite the raging panic beneath his otherwise cool facade. "I must have misunderstood you. Or misheard...I fear my hearing isn't what it used to be. I believe that's a check, Captain."
Zang stared down at the game board and drew in a deep breath meant to curb his anger. "Why, so it is. A good game, Master Shifu."
"Indeed. But I'm afraid I have a meeting I must attend, if you'll excuse me..."
"So where is he, anyway?"
"Where is whom?"
"Tai Lung," Zang said with strained patience.
Damn, Shifu was hoping he'd drop it already. What to say without giving too much away...? "He's on a pilgrimage."
Zang hesitated, then stated, with complete disbelief, "A pilgrimage."
"Yes."
"And he took the Dragon Warrior with him?"
"On the contrary, the Dragon Warrior insisted, despite the fact Tai Lung wished to go alone. For safety."
"For safety. Whose safety? Tai Lung seems more than capable of taking care of himself."
"You will find no disagreements from me, Captain," Shifu said, "But I confess that he appears to have far more enemies than even he knows." The master then offered the horse a winning smile. "This line of questioning is very interesting...or should I say interrogation?"
"I am not interrogating you."
"Aren't you? I've been through many lines of questioning in my life, and also many lines of interrogation, and this discourse has resembled the latter for some time, now. If I had something to hide, I might be intimidated, but right now I am honestly insulted you think so lowly of me."
His ruse worked. Zang looked contrite, even embarassed. "I...am very sorry if it came across that way, Master Shifu. Please believe, no offense was meant. I have no quarrel with you."
"Of course not." Shifu then stood to leave and slowly made his way to the door. The whole time, he could feel Zang's eyes on his back, and he willed to keep his fur from standing on end. He didn't like the horse, at all. He didn't like the constant questions, the attitude, and the worst thing – the thing that made the blood boil then instantly freeze in his veins – were the now-frequent questions concerning Mei Xing and her unborn child.
Around the time Shifu had begun his first game with Zang, Su Lin had made her way into her patient's room to check his progress. The whole time she was setting up by Dalang's bedside, she made mental notes of which herbs, roots and barks to get on the next market day. He was looking significantly better, but it was the season for fevers and the like (and she was far too low on willow bark for her liking). The color had come back to his face, and even though he still looked a little tired, he was levels above what he had been only two days before. His strength had come back, but the female panda noted almost immediately upon entering the room that something had shifted, something in his demeanor had changed from the fun-loving surrogate brother she had come to know into the boy she had met over ten years before. And Su Lin didn't like it.
"Say 'ah'."
Dalang opened his mouth and allowed Su Lin to peer in. He only closed his jaw when she was satisfied with what she saw.
"Any chance you can not clear me, at least for another couple days?" he asked, rubbing his sore jaw and yawning.
"Why?" she asked, puzzled. "You're fine now. It was just as I expected: a bug you just needed to get through."
Dalang groaned as she started to pack up her herbs and medicines. "If you clear me, Sonam has to start training me."
Now the panda stopped, then looked concerned. "Training? You? Does he know...?"
"I'm about as enthusiastic as you are," he said dismally, without saying whether or not Sonam knew about his past. He sighed. "I wanted to put it all behind me."
Knowing what he meant, Su Lin pulled together her herbs and medical instruments and put them in her box. "Sounds like he isn't giving you that option."
Dalang didn't need to ask who she meant by "he". "Why is he after you in the first place?" the panda asked. "I thought faking your death would have—"
"That was the whole point," Dalang explained. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "To avoid Shen and Asmodei...the only way either of them would ever leave me alone is if they thought I was dead. Trust me, Azzie isn't coming this far from Siberia just for giggles."
Despite the seriousness of the topic, Su Lin giggled: "Azzie?"
"Its what I called him when I was a kid and couldn't quite pronounce his name yet. He hated it, but I'm not sure why he hated it so much."
"With a nickname like that, I wouldn't much like it myself." Su Lin closed her herb box and sighed, pressing her hand against the carved wooden peony on the lid. "Have they really been gone a month?"
Dalang paused. "Shit, you're right. It doesn't seem that long."
"You're right, it doesn't." She knew he was waiting for her to say something else. "I was willing, to, you know...that night, before he left."
He picked up on it right away. He was used to Su Lin's shyness regarding the subject...no matter how much he was willing to fill her in on. Dalang snorted and smirked, "About damn time."
Su Lin narrowed her brown eyes at him. "Excuse me?"
He held up his hands in a placating way. "Just sayin', the way you two were, I swore he'd propose by now."
"Yeah, me too." After another pause, she said, "I've been thinking lately...if he came back and asked for my hand...I'm not sure I'd say yes."
This made him stop short. "What? Why not? Su, you've wanted to get married as long as I've known you. And lets face it, Po is a one-of-a-kind guy, and I'm not just saying that."
"No, I know. But lately, I've been thinking, just thinking that..." she sighed heavily. "For the first time, here, I have independence. I have my own business of sorts. If I wanted to, I could open up my own apothecary and do more than make ends meet, just like Mama did. If I get married, I have to give that all up and focus on keeping house and having lots of babies. And yeah, I wanted that when I was younger, but right now I'm not sure if that's what will make me happy. Is that weird? I thought I knew what I wanted, so why am I so confused?"
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I don't know what to tell you, kid. After I ran away, after you and Auntie knocked some sense into me, that's all I wanted, too. I wanted a family – a real family – a life and career of my own, and to forget all about being in war. Well, I guess two outta three ain't bad."
"You've come a long way," she assured him. "And I hope you know...I'm proud of you, Dalang."
He gave her a smile, yet still appeared somewhat unsure of himself. He stood and grabbed the closest clean shirt, then walked over to the wardrobe standing along the far wall. He reached into one of the drawers and ruffled through summer clothes and pulled out the bamboo staff he had hidden beneath the clothes. Su Lin watched carefully as he pulled on the ends of the bamboo handles to reveal the gleaming steel encased within.
"Sonam made that?" she asked in awe.
"Yup. Dunno how, or why...but in some way, I'm glad he did. I don't want to do this...I really don't want to do this. But like you said, Asmodei isn't giving me a choice." He resheathed the swords and put it aside as he put the shirt on. It was one of the few he owned that had sleeves, which he only wore outside the kitchen, however infrequent that would be. But if he would training outside with Sonam, he needed to be warm. A sudden cold snap had overtaken the valley, which only made him worry about Po and Tai Lung more. As much as he hoped a good snow would slow Asmodei down (a very, very vain hope), he worried an early snow would hinder the two warriors...and he really wanted them there when the storm finally hit, literally and figuratively. "Wish me luck," he said. I'm going to need it, he added silently.
"Um..."
"Somethin' wrong, lad?"
"Wha? Uh, no, not exactly...are you sure this is a good idea?"
"What? Of course it is! I want to see what you're capable of."
"Okay, yeah, I knew that, but...this isn't exactly what I had in mind." Dalang trailed off as he looked around the interior, feeling the blood draining from his face. When Sonam had led him to the training hall, the tiger chef expected him to fetch some wooden practice swords. But as soon as they had entered, Sonam instead stopped and looked at him expectedly. That could only mean one thing.
"Does Shifu know about this?" the tiger asked him.
"He gave me free rein to train you. That includes all training equipment...and I mean all training equipment."
Dalang's face paled further when he watched flames shoot up out of the Field of Fiery Death. His eye twitched a little. "I don't think I can do this."
"Why not? What doesn't kill you only—"
"For the love of the gods, please don't finish that. Asmodei used to say it a lot."
Sonam promptly shut his jaw. "Right. Let's jump right in, shall we?"
"Uh, yeah, no."
"Nope, 'no' isn't an option."
"Sonam, I am not my wife."
"Good thing, too. I don't think you'd make a very pretty woman."
Dalang scowled, annoyed that his own joke had been used against him. "What I was about to say...she's a kung fu master. I am significantly below that level."
"And if you say you're a level zero, I'm throwing your fuzzy tuckus right straight in the middle and leaving you there. Now get your tail in gear and prove me right."
Dalang drew back a little bit. Unfortunately for him, Sonam may have been getting on in years, but he still had damn good reflexes. So before Dalang was even aware of it, he had been shoved right into the middle of the twirling serpents...
Shifu poked his head in later, right around lunchtime, to check on Dalang's progress. The Jade Palace's Grand Master had been deep in thought about how to deal with the myriad issues he would face in the coming month or two. This winter is going to be one hell of a doozy, he thought. Upon entering the Training Hall, he spotted Sonam first. Then he saw the snow leopard wincing periodically, then hiding his scarred face behind his heavy paw and shaking his head mournfully. Shifu turned to look at the obstacle course...and was immediately reminded of the first time a certain panda had taken to it. Dalang was currently getting hit in all manner of places by the Wooden Warriors, and no matter where the hapless feline turned, another swinging limb hit him in either the face, chest, stomach or – most unfortunately – even lower.
"Oof..." Shifu said with a wince of his own.
Sonam made what sounded like something between a laugh and a sob, still shaking his head. "And the worst part..." he said in response to the red panda's noise, "Is that this is the best he's done."
"The best?" Shifu incredulously asked. "He's getting his tail handed to him!"
Sonam laugh-cried again. "I know, Shifu...I know..."
When the snow leopard looked back up, Dalang had finally managed to extricate himself from the Forest of Wooden Warriors, dazed and dizzy and more likely bruised in places he didn't even know he had. But before either of the elders could move or warn him, the tiger stumbled right onto the Field of Fiery Death.
The less said about the ensuing carnage, the better.
When Dalang finally dragged himself onto the safety of the wooden walkway, he was breathless, bruised, bleeding from various cuts, and patches of fur were still smoking. His claws sank into the floor boards to literally drag himself back towards the elders, before collapsing at their feet.
"I'm not gonna ask how I did," the tiger wheezed.
"That would be for the best," Shifu assured him. "Now, whose idea was it to throw you onto the obstacle course in the first place?"
"You gotta ask?"
"Ah." Shifu looked up at Sonam, who looked like he was rethinking his methods. "So, you had a rough start, but I think a break for lunch and tea would be a good idea."
Dalang flicked his eyes up to the red panda. "This coming from Master Hard-ass himself?"
"I might be a hard-ass, but I'm not completely heartless. Get up, there's hot pot in the kitchen, and I'll brew some oolong for you."
"Any chance you can throw some willow bark in it?"
He wanted to, just for him; Shifu remembered his own student-days, when willow bark – the best anti-inflamatory he knew, treating everything from headaches to fevers – became as much a part of his diet as tea and rice (and sometimes he wondered if Oogway was right about that being the reason Shifu largely no longer felt much in the way of pain). But Mantis had a point when he refused to give Shifu anymore painkillers. "Pain is the body's way of telling you something's wrong", the insect had told him as soon as he had joined the Five. And kicking the habit for even the slightest headache had been one hell of a bear. And he didn't want that for Dalang, anyway. So he said, "I won't incur Mantis's wrath. Besides, you'll need your wits about you in the afternoon. Come on, up."
Dalang staggered to his feet and limped out of the training hall while pressing a hand against his side, his face screwed up into an agonized grimace. Shifu's steely blue eyes followed him out, but he paused before leaving long enough to say to Sonam, "Work on your plan, I've got one of my own."
"It'd be nice of you to share," the blacksmith said.
"Trust me. This isn't my first time."
"How's the hot pot?"
Dalang nodded, spooning more of the hot noodles and vegetables into his mouth. "Rilly goo," he said through a full mouth. He accepted another cup of oolong from Shifu and downed it quickly. The red panda was eating with him in the kitchen, sitting on a high stool while Dalang stood – the tiger said something about being too sore to sit. Shifu understood. He'd been there. "So, you had a rough start, but to be fair, you never really learned kung fu..."
Dalang shook his head, then swallowed, reaching for another bean bun. "I learned a little bit. Shang taught me some of what he knew. He was always better with a jian sword though; I was better at sabers."
"Yes, that's what I remember about your brother. What of Asmodei's fighting style?"
Dalang chewed and swallowed a hefty bite of a bean bun before replying. "Doesn't really have one. What I noticed though, most kung fu sword fighting...it looks pretty, but its not very effective."
Furrowing his brows, Shifu asked, "How do you mean?" This was what the red panda was waiting for. He wanted to see exactly what went through the tiger's mind when it came to fighting, what he knew, what he didn't know...and Dalang didn't disappoint.
"Well, point of fighting is to take your enemy out quickly, and make sure he stays down and doesn't get back up," Dalang explained. "If he's attacking you, deadly force is always appropriate."
"Only in specific circumstances, right?"
"Nope, every time."
"Every time?"
"That's what I said. S' what I was taught." Dalang paused, bean bun halfway eaten. He noted Shifu's disapproving look. "Though I probably shouldn't focus too much on that anymore, should I?"
"No, no, I'd actually like to hear more," Shifu said, pouring himself some tea. "I know so very little about you, I realize, I'd like to learn more about your past."
"Uh-huh," Dalang said, obviously unconvinced. "Why'd you wait until now to ask me this stuff? Why not right after Shen died? Why not before I married your adopted daughter?"
"Because your brother also had just died, and you were in mourning. I knew it was a bad time. As for the latter, that was the happiest I had ever seen Tigress, and I wasn't going to ruin it. My feelings aside, marrying you appears to be the best decision she's ever made."
This answer sobered the tiger's temper immediately. Shifu continued, "I also figured, like you, that chapter of your life was over. It made no sense to revisit it. Was I concerned when Tigress married you? Of course I was. But as long as I've known you, you've never hurt her, which is why I gave my consent."
"That's not what I heard," he accused.
Shifu frowned. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"I am trying to have a nice lunch with you, and you seem intent on arguing."
"I'm intent on keeping that part of my past out of my future, how hard is that to understand?"
"Dalang, I am trying to help you!"
Dalang stood straighter, baring his fangs. "You don't get it, do you? You'd help me more by leaving me alone! I was a monster as a kid, and I never want to be that monster again! That's what you're doing to me, I can see it! You're trying to turn me back into that monster so I can defeat a monster!"
Shifu stopped himself before he said something he would regret. Then he saw what the real problem was. It wasn't until Dalang had blown up at him mere seconds ago that he saw the truth: he was terrified of Koshchei. But what terrified him more was becoming Koshchei. It explained it. It explained so much...the cooking, the pacifism, the guardedness, the lies...
"So, you don't want to become Koshchei."
"Would you?" the striped feline countered.
Shifu set his tea aside, steepled his hands and stared straight at the tiger. "Your understanding of kung fu is minimal."
"If you're trying to make me feel better, you're doing a bang-up job," he bit back.
"And if you're trying to use sarcasm as a defense mechanism, I can see right through it."
That shut him up quickly.
"Don't feel bad," Shifu said. "We all have defense mechanisms. Some of us use humor, others sarcasm. I try to show neither: it demonstrates weakness. Koshchei will expect you to use humor or sarcasm. I thought you weren't physically ready, but that's not the problem..." Shifu picked up the closest knife and flicked it expertly right at Dalang's neck.
The effect was immediate. Dalang's hand shot up and caught the knife by the tip with his fingers. Just as quickly, he flicked the knife back and threw, embedding the blade into the tabletop right next to Shifu's hand. The red panda didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled triumphantly and yanked the knife from the wooden tabletop.
"The problem," the red panda said, without taking his eyes off his son-in-law, "is that you are physically ready, but not mentally ready. By all means, drilling with Sonam to keep up your physical skills is vital, but we should also focus on you keeping your focus in battle."
Dalang stared back at him, shocked. He couldn't believe he had just thrown a knife right at his father-in-law (as a younger man, he half-expected to be arranged to marry into such a family where fighting at the dinner table would be as much a Dongzhi tradition as lanterns and feasts, but this was Shifu; doing so invited the loss of some vital organs). "I...am really, really sorry."
"Oh, no need to explain," Shifu said with a smile. "It was a reflex. Much like this one." With that, he whapped the tiger on the head with a wooden spoon. Dalang rubbed his smarting cranium, but still looked chastened.
"Now," Shifu continued, "I am offering to develop your spirituality concerning kung fu."
"How the hell do you intend to do that with only a month's time?"
"If I can teach Tigress to control her strength in three months, I can teach you to meditate in one week."
Dalang stared at him, aghast. "Meditation? How the hell is that supposed to help me?"
"You'd be surprised. Do you agree?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"No."
"Then yes."
He decided the best place to do this was in Oogway's favored meditation spot: beneath the branches of the Sacred Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom. Shifu admitted (to himself, if no one else), that meditating below the tree's branches gave him greater peace than meditating anywhere else. Perhaps it was the location, so far removed from the noise of the Palace. Or maybe it was opening one's eyes to see the glory of Nature spreading out for hundreds of miles before him that gave him a greater appreciation for what he had and for being alive. Shifu bet, however, that he felt better meditating here because it helped him hold onto the last pleasant memories of his late master.
He made sure Dalang was settled comfortably on the ground next to him, his rump cushioned by the thin layer of dried leaves. The red panda crossed his legs into the full lotus position and rested his wrists on his knees as he prepared to begin the lesson. "All right, now that we are in position..."
"Um..."
Shifu sighed. "Yes?"
"I don't think this lotus thing is going to work out."
Shifu glanced over and saw that Dalang was having difficulty trying to replicate the Lotus position...and was making agonized expressions as he tried to twist his knees in ways they were never meant to twist.
"I thought you were flexible enough to do that?" Shifu asked him.
Dalang stayed silent, struggling to bring his other ankle up to his other knee. The tiger wasn't having an easy time of it. But the tiger also wisely kept his trap shut concerning his, ahem, flexibility. That was not a conversation to have with your father-in-law. "Hey, you said so yourself, it takes years to develop flexibility..."
"And years longer to apply it in combat, yes, I remember," the red panda said shortly, reminded too much of his first real training session with Po. "But you're in better shape now that Po was when he started."
"I dunno, I have gained a little weight in the last few years."
"How can you tell?" the old master asked. "I mean, you're still the string-bean I've known since we met."
"I'm not that skinny. I mean, sure, I could use a little more muscle definition..."
"Absolutely, which is why I'm having Sonam fix up the weight-lifting equipment. Also, we need to develop your core strength..."
"...Which translates to lots and lots of sit-ups," Dalang said depressedly. "I hate sit-ups."
"It could be worse; I could have you punch into jars of sand repeatedly."
"Ugh, I remember those. Shen had me do those as punishment more than once..."
Shifu quickly changed the subject. "Then let's keep from doing that, shall we? Now, let's get you into position..."
"Is half-lotus okay? I mean, my knee's really starting to hurt."
Shifu sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes, half-lotus will do. For now. When this is over, I'm drilling you in tai chi."
"What good is that going to do? It's just a bunch of stretching..."
"Dalang, you're just going to have to trust me on this one. Now, if we are in position," the red panda said with a glare at his son-in-law. Dalang gulped and sat a little straighter, feeling an almost painful ache in his knees and ankles. The rest of his body hurt as well, but he wasn't going to complain too much in front of Shifu. He mirrored the red panda's posture and arm movements, feeling nothing short of ridiculous as he did so.
Shifu began:
"Now, the point of meditation is to look inward, to keep yourself occupied on the here and now. During meditation, you will become acutely aware of your surroundings, forget about the past and the future, at least for the time being. We will begin by practicing our breathing. First, inhale through the nose, so that your chest expands, not your shoulders; your shoulders remain stationary. I'll walk you through it. Inhale through the nose, nice and slow. Now hold it in for a moment, then slowly – slowly – let it out through the nose. Try it a few times."
Dalang obeyed, slowly inhaling, pausing to hold the breath, then slowly exhaling through his nose, his eyes closing on their own. His breathing made a hollow sound near the back of his throat that echoed in his ears, providing a type of white noise that reminded the tiger of a waterfall, or surf crashing on the shore. It was deep, soothing...
"How did that feel?" Shifu asked.
Dalang opened his eyes, surprised to find that rather than feel tired...he felt a little refreshed, like he had just awoken from a cat nap. "Actually...not that bad."
Shifu smiled. "Good. Practice it another moment to be sure you've got the timing correct, then we move on."
While Dalang continued to practice the proper breathing, taking deep breaths to expand his diaphram, and feeling already like many of his worries were falling off his shoulders, which oddly enough began to feel much lighter. Shifu watched him carefully, taking in the tiger's posture, his breathing, and his expressions. There was something still bothering him, whatever it was.
"Kung fu requires discipline. Physical discipline, so that every movement, every strike, every single thing you do becomes instinct, as natural as blinking and breathing. And Mental discipline...for without it, none of the remarkable things kung fu is known for will be possible. Now, breathe..."
After a time, Shifu began to speak, making sure to keep Dalang in the moment: "Kung fu was developed hundreds of years ago, purely for defense. There are forms that are more aggressive than others, but the large part of kung fu concerns defending what you hold dear. It is a way for the soft and weak to defend against the hard and strong. It gives them a chance to live in an unfair world, and, in many cases, can give them a chance to look deeper inside themselves, and see something there they didn't even know was there."
And Shifu had learned that lesson more than once over the course of his career. He hoped that he would relearn that lesson one more time from Dalang.
In the kitchen of the Long and Feng Cafe, the lunch crowd had just dispersed, and while Mr. Ping was preparing for the dinner crowd on his own, the Furious Five were meeting there to discuss a plan of action.
"Why aren't we out training again?" Mantis asked
"Shifu and Sonam needed the training hall for Dalang," Monkey answered.
"Man, I'd pay good money to see that."
Tigress glared over at Crane from her seat in front of her son. She was spooning small bites of porridge into Shang's mouth, the little cub gumming at the spoon and making raspberries at his mother, thus getting most of the porridge all over his face rather than in his mouth. Tigress cleaned off his face while keeping her attention on her friends. "I would appreciate you showing a little more support. This isn't easy for him."
"After facing Shifu's training," Mantis said, "I can safely say that."
"Why are you all convinced he'll do a bad job?" Viper asked. "He held his own in the Jiao War, I'm confident he'll do fine now."
"Thank you, Viper," Tigress said, finally getting the last of the porridge off little Shang's cheeks.
"I don't see why you didn't offer to teach him," Crane told her. "He's your husband..."
"Exactly," Tigress said. "I would be too willing to go easy on him. That's why I asked Sonam."
"So it has nothing to do with the fact you suck at sword fighting?" Monkey asked.
Tigress bristled. "I do not suck at sword fighting, I just prefer unarmed combat."
In stage whisper, Monkey told the others, "She failed Shifu's Blade Training 101 twice."
"I did not fail," she snapped. "I just got low marks on Technique. Anyone can get low marks on Technique!"
"Po didn't," Viper said. "I was pretty impressed."
"Yes, we were all very impressed," the feline said irritably, whiskers twitching. Her sour mood didn't last, as Shang giggled, made a rather large bubble with his spit, then squealed with laughter when it burst. Even she had to admit – disgusting as it was – it was adorable.
"You have a strange, strange kid," Mantis said. "I like him."
"Just promise me you won't try to corrupt him until he's a teenager," Tigress asked.
"Hey, I make no promises." Mantis hopped up onto the table next to the tiger cub and his mother, then sat cross-legged. "So...Asmodei Koshchei..."
Shang's little ears perked up a little.
Tigress held her head in her hands, then massaged her temples. "I'm thinking...trying to think of a plan."
"The work's done for us," Monkey said. "The Thread of Hope is too flimsy for big armies to cross."
"And don't forget, the back way that the Jiao took has been completely demolished," Crane added. "There's only one way in, one way out."
"And that's what worries me," she said. "The Valley is not ready for a prolonged siege, and if we are invaded...there's nowhere for us to run."
"Tigress," Viper said, "You sound like you've already given up."
"No way," Mantis laughed. "Miss Take-No-Prisoners herself?" His laughter died off when he saw the sober look on Tigress's face. "What, you're serious?"
"I have different priorities now," the feline told him. "My family's safety comes first. Then the Valley's. Then my own. If my home and loved ones are in danger...I have to do whatever I can to protect them...even if that means running away."
The other members of the Furious Five were stunned. This was not the Tigress they knew and loved. This was not the same strong woman who had blossomed from a precocious little girl.
"What's the matter with you?" Mantis asked. "This isn't the you we know! Did droppin' that kid soften your brain?"
Crane cringed at the harsh words, but was shocked to see Monkey joining in: "You are turning your back on those who trust in you! That makes you a coward!"
"What are you all doing? Why are you talking to her like that?" Crane demanded.
"Crane," Tigress calmly said, "It's alright. You don't need to fight my battles for me."
Calm. She was calm. She was calm? Monkey had called her an outright coward – to her face – and she was perfectly calm?
"You are not the woman we know," Crane said sharply. "Shifu was right. You have changed. For a while, I thought it was for the better, but now I see what really happened. You've become what you've always hated the most."
Tigress's back stiffened. Her whiskers twitched, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. "Don't say it..."
Crane continued, "You've become a Traditional Woman."
Tigress stood, fur bristling, then turned on him with a snarl. "You take that back, right now."
Remarkably, for one who so hated confrontation, Crane stood his ground. "No. You've spent your whole life up 'til now fighting those stereotypes of womanhood, and now you're turning your back on your values and giving in to what everyone expects of you as a woman: to stay at home with the baby, cook and clean for your husband, and to run away from a fight. What you're suggesting is running away. Now we both know you are too badass to run away when someone threatens your family—"
"Family comes first, Crane," Tigress seethed. "You know that as well as I!"
"Yes it does," Crane said with a glance towards Viper, his beloved wife. "But just because you're a mother now doesn't mean you need to act like all the other mothers do."
"What are you suggesting, that I leave my family behind?"
"No," he snapped, "I'm saying stop acting like a scared mother rabbit and start acting like the mother tiger you are!"
This response stunned her into silence. She looked like she wanted to fire back her own insults to him, but she couldn't do it. Tigress knew she was angry, and that anything said at that point would hurt her and her friends. So she sighed and turned back to her baby.
"I need some time to think about this. I have a lot on my mind."
This was their cue to leave. If Tigress required some time alone, it was best just to let her have it. She looked into her son's green eyes and sighed. Crane was right, as much as she hated to admit it. But she had never been in a position like this before. Not only did she have the Valley to think about, but for the first time in her life, she had a family to call her own, and she would be damned if someone tried to take that from her. She had fought tooth and claw to get where she was in life, and for once – just once – she didn't want to fight. Perhaps discretion was the better part of valor. But she couldn't run. Crane was right again. Running meant she was weak, just like any other mother running away with her baby. She couldn't run, not when so many people depended on her.
"I never thought I'd say this," she said to Shang, who, at his age, had no idea what she was saying anyway, "...but I don't envy Po. He is the Dragon Warrior, but if I can barely handle this kind of pressure just being leader of the Furious Five...what chance would I have had if I had been the Dragon Warrior instead?"
Shang purred, staring up into her face with a wondering look. He was too young to understand the look on her face. Tigress sighed and picked him up, cuddling with him while he nuzzled her. "We can't fight this war outright, not like we usually do," she said, caressing her baby's head. "We have to change tactics. But how?"
She looked down into her son's eyes and sighed again. "If only your uncle were still here; I could ask him, and he'd know."
That's when the idea came to her.
She swiftly got up, Shang in her arms, and trotted to the family altar. She looked up at the ancestor tablets and the portraits of the departed family on her husband's side. She looked up at the portrait of her brother-in-law, and smiled.
"Jiayu Pass...that's it." She laughed. "That's it!"
Shifu's meditation lesson had ended, and now it was Sonam's turn. The snow leopard had brought out the practice dummy painted to look like a panda, "to sharpen your claws on", and while Dalang was sparring with the dummy, Sonam set up a scarecrow-like dummy on a stake in the middle of the courtyard. He even took the time to paint a frowny face on the dummy, who was sure to get mauled before this lesson was over. Shifu, meanwhile, watched Dalang's progress very carefully. He had taken well to the meditation, and he seemed more focused now. But what troubled the red panda now was exactly how Dalang was fighting first the child's dummy, then the makeshift dummy Sonam had set up. The tiger was hitting all the wrong places...and by wrong places, that meant places on the body that would certainly be grounds for disqualification in a fair match. When the red panda voiced his concerns aloud, Dalang turned to stare at him.
"What do you mean I can't hit there?" Dalang asked.
Shifu was ready to rebuke him with a stern 'isn't it obvious?' before he saw the look of pure confusion in the tiger's eyes. The red panda paused, then asked him, "Why do you hit there?"
"To take him down as soon as possible. That's what you're supposed to do."
"Dalang, have you ever been hit in those areas?"
The tiger shrugged. "Sure. It was part of my training. Eyes, head, groin, got hit everywhere it hurt, so I would know how to take down my opponent fastest."
"You realize, of course, that in kung fu, those regions are off-limits."
Dalang stared at him. "...Wait, seriously?"
"Yes."
"But I see Tigress kicking the hell out of people in the face all the time!"
"The face, yes, but not the head. Head injuries, I'm sure you know, are far more insidious than more visible wounds. Kung fu is about honor, and fighting honorably..."
"Which is great and all," Dalang said, "when you're fighting against someone who follows those rules."
Shifu paused and thought about this. Then he smiled. "Actually, why don't you show me a bit more?"
The tiger blinked. "Are you sure?"
"Why not? It's clear you're very strong, but I want to see what else you're capable of. Go on. Attack the dummy." Then Shifu stepped back to avoid getting hit with random dummy parts.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Sonam asked in a hushed tone. "I'm supposed to be training him with swords, and you're worried about unarmed combat?"
"The swords are extensions of the arms," Shifu said, "You told me that yourself. I want to see what damage his arms alone can do."
Dalang started with throwing punches into the dummy, literally knocking the stuffing out of it. Shifu noted immediately that the tiger did not stay rooted to the ground, like he had taught Tigress and Tai Lung to do. Instead, Dalang was constantly moving. His shoulders moved as he danced from foot to foot, and threw his whole arm – fist, wrist, elbow, shoulder and back – into a punch. His whole body undulated with each punch. He held himself like a boxer, Shifu realized; he had seen boxing before, many years ago, when he had been protecting the northern border against barbarians. The barbarians had a style of fighting very similar to this, a brutal version of boxing, wrestling, and what Shifu called 'back alley fighting'. It was a style that had no rules. As someone who thrived on rules and order, this style horrified and terrified him. But now that he saw it again, years later, through more experienced eyes, the more he saw that there was a method to the madness after all.
He stopped short of calling it 'barbarian' now. Dalang may not have been ethnic Han Chinese, but his heart most certainly was, and that was good enough for him. The red panda master now saw that this style of fighting had a little grace to it. It was a style that worshiped the body's limits, the limits of the fighter's strength...then spit, laughed at, and mocked those limits and told them to push even harder. The aim was exactly as Dalang said: take them down as soon and as hard as possible. Make sure they don't get back up. And it made sense. Manchus were surrounded by various tribes and nomads, and there was no telling (especially growing up as Jiao Shen's son) who to trust and who to kill. This fighting style, whatever it was called, made no distinction between victim and attacker; to the fighter, everyone was suspect. And no one was truly safe until all opponents were down and out of the fight.
"Damn," he said, then uttered a worse curse. "We're screwed."
Sonam arched a brow and stared down at his diminutive friend. "Come again?"
"I just realized, after watching Dalang, that we may be in some serious trouble." Shifu pointed out his concerns as Dalang continued his shadowboxing. "Everything I have taught my students will end up hurting them, if they go up against Koshchei. Look, Dalang never lowers his stance, ever, and he's always moving, always in motion, holding his hands up in front of his face...I told Tigress that if she ever did that, someone would hit her core and it would kill her, but now I'm seeing that was wrong. And Mantis taught me that his 'staying still for a really long time' technique..."
"He needs a catchier name for that."
"I agree. But staying still...that could kill him. Look, look at how he moves! That's the same way street fighters move..."
"That's right," Sonam said, his one good eye lighting up with recognition. "If the fighter goes down in a fight, he's dead. Like fighting in a prison yard...got to be prepared for anything."
"Exactly, and that's what worries me," Shifu confessed. "These people, these men who will be coming here...they don't fight like we do. They follow no rules. They just...use everything that they have, and more. They use their surroundings more than I've ever seen. These enemies are...far more creative than I've been giving them credit."
"You know what this means, then?" Sonam hinted.
"What's that?" Shifu asked.
The snow leopard elder smirked, his one good eye twinkling with sly mirth. "This means we're going to be even more creative."
"Sonam...what are you planning?"
"Who, me? Why, what makes you think I'm up to anything at all? Dalang!" he suddenly shouted at the tiger, holding up his own fists. "When you punch, less from the hip, more from the shoulder!"
"From the hip's stronger!" Dalang shouted back.
"From the shoulder'll get you more hits. Not as powerful, but quicker, gets you out of a tight spot a lot faster. Try that whole sequence again, this time punching from the shoulder!"
Shifu glanced up at Sonam, visibly impressed. "Why Sonam, I had no idea...which style did you learn?"
"The devil are you talking about? I never trained in anything. That's just what I learned picking fights in the school yard...and prison."
"You went to prison."
"Are you really surprised?"
"No. No I am not. Why did you..."
Sonam cut him off with a quick, "Funny story, I'll have to tell you sometime..."
A shout cut him off, and all three males were surprised to find Tigress jogging over to them, short of breath from the run up the mountain. "Shifu!" she called again.
"What is it?" he asked. "What happened?"
"Nothing – no emergency," she said, panting; Shang was strapped to her back in his sling, and he squealed with glee when he caught sight of his baba. Tigress continued, "I had an idea on how to beat the invasion, and I need to run this by you all."
"All ears, love," Sonam said.
"The Lotus style," Tigress said. "Teach the villagers the Lotus style."
Shifu nodded. "I had already considered asking my wife to teach the women in the—"
"No! Not just the women!" Tigress said. "Everyone. Men, women, old and young...everyone has to learn it, or some degree of it."
"But it was only meant to be..."
"To be used by women, I know," she said excitedly. "But Master, think about it, women are not as physically strong as men, right? Well, except for certain exceptions...but for the most part, men are physically stronger. Think of the villagers – all of them – as women: the soft and weak going up against the hard and strong. Lotus Style is ideal for teaching across class, species, and skill levels in a relatively short amount of time. Kung fu like you teach takes years, whereas we only have weeks, maybe less. Shifu, convince Aunt Wu to teach everyone in the village the Lotus Style."
"Honey," Dalang asked warily. "What are you planning?"
Tigress turned to her husband with a grin. "Your brother's helped me from the Great Beyond. About eight years back, after you had run away, your brothers were involved in a battle at the Jiayu Pass; that's where I got the idea. Just as then, we're going to isolate the enemy's weaknesses and use it against them. We'll be fighting a war much different than anything we've fought before; they won't expect it." She kissed her husband on the cheek. "I can't tell you everything right now, but I'm confident this will work. I've already talked to Crane, Viper, Monkey and Mantis, and they're all on board. I just need you all to help me."
"You know which way I'll vote," Dalang smiled, hugging her.
"Likewise," Sonam said.
Shifu nodded, deep in thought, then said, "Then I'd best get down to the school before it gets too late."
Down at the Lotus School's largest building, where the larger classes were held for beginners and intermediate levels, Shifu found Wu Lien instructing young girls in the very basics. She was also offering pointers to a graduate student-teacher, a ewe who was a master in her own right. The ewe took over the lesson while Shifu broke the news as gently as he could...
"You want me to do what?" Wu Lien gasped.
Shifu knew he was asking a lot of her, and hemmed and hawed a fair bit while he let it sink in. "Ah, yes, we'd like you to branch out and teach everyone in the valley your Lotus style."
"Shifu, I love you, but do you have any idea..."
"You don't have to be the only one teaching, mind. You have plenty of students who are fully capable of—"
"Yes, I know they're capable of teaching it, but—"
"And it is a style best suited for our delicate situation..."
"Shifu!" she snapped. "Will you listen to me for one damn minute?"
The room had gone silent. Both red pandas were quickly aware that the Lotus Style beginner's class had stopped their stretching drills to stare at the two old masters. As many of these were little girls just starting their training, the use of the bad word was cause enough to give their undivided attention. The ewe leading the class looked at her master helplessly, unsure if the marital argument would continue, or if she should move the children to another classroom. Wu smiled disarmingly at her students and grabbed her husband's arm. "Would you excuse us a few minutes, dears? Thanks." Then she forcefully dragged him out into the courtyard of the school, which was blissfully empty for the morning classes.
"You are out of your damn mind!" she hissed in a low whisper. "There's no way this can work!"
"It can work, because it already has," he insisted. "I recall the force of women from age seven to seventy-five, women that you trained...it's worked before and it can work again!"
"But I failed, Shifu!"
"Once, you failed once."
"Once was enough!"
"Think of how many times my teaching has failed," he pointed out, trying to get her to see his point. "Think of my failures, and there have been a lot of them! Did I stop teaching because I made a few mistakes?"
"Your mistakes didn't kill all your students," she told him, mournfullly.
Sobered, Shifu sighed, then pulled his wife into his arms, offering her his shoulder to rest her head on. "You can't keep blaming yourself for that. There were too many things outside your control...for all your astrology and divination, there was no way you could have predicted that, no way to prevent it from happening. Some things were meant to happen, awful as they may be. For example, there's a reason Tai Lung went to prison. Do I still blame myself for putting him in that position? You're damn right I do!"
"But it was ultimately his responsibility," she said. "He was a man when the rampage happened. I love him as my own flesh and blood, but he had to answer for his deeds."
Shifu paused, then asked, "Is that what this about? Penance?"
"What?"
"You refused to teach your style for so many years, and I practically had to twist your arm to teach it here...did you refuse because you're punishing yourself for what happened so many years ago?"
"Why shouldn't I?" she asked, pulling away from him. "It was my folly and my pride that killed them. I can't let that happen again..."
"So you're refusing to help...because you're afraid of that happening again?"
"I don't want anyone getting hurt," she said. "It'll be safer for the villagers to come up to the Jade Palace..."
"There's no safety there; we have limited resources, and even then, you know Koshchei is creative and adaptable...he'll find a way to break a prolonged seige. And we both know that whatever he does, it will make the Jiao look like Taoist monks by comparison." He hesitated, trying to find the best words to describe it. "The benefit of your style is that it can be taught quickly to a wide variety of people, with different backgrounds, different skills and abilities..."
"And it was supposed to only be taught to women," she pressed.
"I understand; because women are among the most vulnerable in society. Most of the females in this valley already know some of your moves for basic self-defense...but what about their children? Their husbands? If we're going to survive this, everyone needs to know something about the Lotus style."
"You'll have a hard time convincing those men to take up my cause."
"Not if we tell them what's at stake."
Wu gasped, "You're going to tell them?"
"And why shouldn't I? Keeping them ignorant will make it worse. If I tell them what's at stake, remind them that we need all available hands, they will step up to the occasion."
"It would incite a panic! You forget these are farmers, merchants...not soldiers," she said. "These are people who love and cherish peace!"
"Then who better to protect the only home they have ever known?" he reasoned.
She was silent for a long moment, running over different scenarios in her head. When she spoke, she heavily sighed first, her shoulders heaving with the exhale. "I think this is a bad idea."
"I've run out of good ones."
She looked into his blue eyes, her own green eyes guarded, fearful. "I have good reason to doubt my abilities...but I also have good reason to trust in my students." She stood straighter, showing off her ballet-honed posture, and said proudly, "I have the utmost faith in them. If, as you claim, the enemy has already infiltrated the Valley of Peace, then this training will need to be discreet..."
Shifu grinned. He knew he had won.
"So what's the plan?" Monkey asked.
Tigress sat them all down in her old dormitory room, around a brazier to keep them warm. Shang sat in her lap, happily wrapped in a blanket to fend off against any drafts. "All right, now I'll go into more detail," she said. "The plan is to take a page out of my brother-in-law's book. Jiao Shang led an attack against the Jiayuguan, a major pass in the Great Wall, wherein he used his enemy's strengths against them. He also played into their prejudices about the Manchurians. That is what we'll do. We'll pretend that nothing is out of the ordinary, that this is a DongZhi festival like any other, and when the first sign of trouble starts up, we take out that trouble, one-by-one so that no one notices..."
Viper caught on quickly. With a smile, she continued, "...so by the time the bad guys realize what's happening..."
"We'll have already gotten the upper hand, if not outright won." Tigress brought her friends in closer and whispered. "This needs to be completely under wraps. This plan does not leave this room until I say so. Shou Gou is gathering more intelligence about Koshchei and the coming army. Once we know what kind of threat we're dealing with, then we'll let the rest of the valley in on the secret...but we can only reveal it in code."
"How will they know the code?" Crane asked.
"It'll have to be in language that anyone can understand: farming. Say for example 'the rice is stored away' means it's safe. If 'grain has been found missing', it means to be on your guard, there's trouble about. 'They caught the thief' can mean that the time to attack has arrived. Crane and Viper, I'm leaving it up to you to decide the code and come up with an effective way to alert the farmers of an attack."
"Why not use fireworks?" Mantis asked. "It's a festival; bad guys won't think it's a signal flare or anything."
"That's a good idea," Monkey said. "But what about us?"
"Money and Mantis, you are my reconnaissance," Tigress said. "Scout out any information you can glean; you're both best suited for this because of the five of us, you are the best at stealth, and can individually hold your own if you get into trouble.
"I'll hammer out the wider details once we have more information. You have your assignments, and I have mine. Wu Lien is going to start teaching Lotus style to the villagers, and I'll need to scope out places to do this in secret."
"Do you need any help?" Viper asked.
Tigress suddenly looked sheepish. "Well...actually, I also need to run a couple errands. Someone has already outgrown his favorite pair of trousers, haven't you?" she asked her son, who only looked up at her with an innocent, questioning glance, whilst gumming his fist. When she looked back up at her friends, she made a face. "Hey, don't look at me like that! I may be a kick-butt kung fu warrior, but I'm a wife and mother too! And since Dalang is busy training, I'm the one who has to do the grocery shopping."
"Jeeze," Mantis said scathingly, "Do you also need to pick up his dry cleaning, too? How about cook his dinner and rub his feet when he gets home?"
"One more word out of you," Tigress warned, "and you will be the one to babysit next time."
As Mantis did not particularly like the predatory glint in the infant tiger's eye, the insect promptly shut his mouth.
"Once again," Tigress said, "We need to be discrete. This means not telling anyone outside this room anything. Shifu and Sonam know, but for heaven's sake, don't discuss this with them! If you have to speak about it, talk about Dalang's training."
"What about our houseguests?" Crane asked. "They might notice something's amiss."
"Then lie," the tiger said. "The less Zang and his men know about this, the better."
Gao Ming kept his distance from his captain, and likewise advised Liu Yong and Hu Quon to stay away, at least until Zang's temper abated. The elephant knew it was bad news when the courier came back with a small scroll sealed with black wax. Zang was absolutely livid. It wasn't until later, when Zang had stormed off to fume in some deserted corner of the Jade Palace that the elephant, bay horse, and young tiger huddled around the discarded scroll to read what had so angered their fearless leader.
Captain Zang Deshi,
It is with great distress we inform you of the passing of our comrade in arms, Colonel Zhou, and his entire Western Regiment. On the twenty-first day of the previous month, the Western Regiment moved out to the fabled 'Phoenix Mountain' to follow intelligence that the fugitive in question was hiding out in that locale. They set out, and never returned. Upon noticing their conspicuous absence, scouts were sent to the afore-mentioned locale and discovered that, at the top of the mountain, lay the charred ruins of what must have once been an impressive monastery. Amongst the ruins were the remains of our comrades. Working from conjecture, we can only assume that the fugitive in question is behind the attack and subsequent demise of the Western Regiment.
PS: We have also sent along an artifact from the wreckage, curiously the only object that was in no way harmed by the fire. Please pass it along to Master Shifu of the Jade Palace; it is an object of great importance to him.
With best regards and many condolences,
General Shan Yongshi.
"The entire Western Regiment is dead?" Liu asked, astounded and absolutely horrified. "How? How could Tai Lung do all that damage?"
"What if he didn't?" Quon asked. "What if he wasn't there at all? There's no proof it's him, or even that he made it to that mountain. It could have been an accident."
"What proof do we need?" Gao demanded, raising his voice to the youth. "Since we got here, you have done nothing but cover for him, make excuses for him. Who's side are you really on, Cadet?"
"I am playing devil's advocate, Gao!" Quon suddenly snarled back. "There isn't a single damn situation that's black and white, despite what you were taught!"
"Why you little insubordinate bas—"
"Both of you, ENOUGH," Liu snapped, physically putting himself between them. "Look, we're all a little on-edge right now, we got some awful news...we all had friends in the Western Regiment, so we are all understandably upset..." the bay horse corporal looked between the cadet and the lieutenant. "But lets not lose ourselves here. We still have a mission, and the captain expects us to keep it together."
Gao and Quon still fumed at each other, neither of them willing to back down. Liu knew this was severely out of character for the tiger, who was easily the meekest of the group. In recent days – since his recovery from his fever – the cadet had developed either one hell of a backbone, or one hell of a superiority complex; either way, he was nothing like the timid, quiet boy from before. The cadet had been questioning every order, and the bay horse had even caught the youth casting rebellious glares in Zang's direction. Liu didn't think much about it, but had told Gao about the interesting turn in Quon's behavior. Gao had brushed it off: "He's still getting over the head injury. He'll be back to his old timid self in no time."
But the livid, dangerous look in the tiger's eyes was making the elephant eat his words. This was not the Quon they knew. Something had changed, but they didn't know what. What the lieutenant and the corporal did know...was that Quon was quickly becoming a liability.
"Who is this General Shan anyway?" Quon asked, staring at the signature. "He's not anyone I've heard of."
"That's no surprise," Gao snorted. "Way I hear it, you never left the academy library unless you were ordered to."
"But, Lieutenant, the cadet does have a point," Liu said haltingly. "We don't know who this general is. We don't know if he's on our side or not."
"He'd have to be," the elephant said. "Everyone in the army and their grannies hates Tai Lung."
"That's not what I'm worried about," Quon said. He lowered his voice after looking around and asked, "Be straight with me, can I trust you?"
"Of course you can," Liu said instantly.
"Then tell me: is this whole thing legit? Is this whole operation above-board?"
"Why do you need to know that?" Gao demanded.
Quon glared and hissed, "Because I'd like to know if I can look forward to a long, productive future in the military versus a military execution!"
"Captain Zang wouldn't have brought us into this if it wasn't legitimate," Gao said with finality.
The other two soldiers, however, were silent. Liu looked particularly concerned. The bay horse opened his mouth and whispered, "Honestly...I've had my doubts about that myself."
Gao groaned. "Not you, too!"
"This whole thing seems more for a black ops team, not cavalry-trained people like us," Liu said. "I was willing to overlook it before, because it paid so well...but Quon might have a point."
"Gao," Quon asked, point-blank, "Is Zang lying to us?"
"Why would I tell you, if I knew that?"
"Because you are his lieutenant!" Quon said. "He tells you everything!"
"Or he's supposed to..." Liu said guardedly.
"Both of you, knock it off before I report you," Gao snapped. "Questioning your commanding officer like that is a one-way ticket to court marshall, and I'm not risking it."
"So we are just to follow orders?" Quon said, in a tone Gao did not like.
"We follow orders because that is what we are trained to do. Any other questions, cadet?"
Quon paused, staring him down, then flatly said, "No sir."
"Good. Now I don't want to hear another word about this, got it?" The elephant quickly shut his mouth when he heard the palace servants coming down the hall towards them. "This doesn't leave this corner," he said shortly, then stomped off to look for Zang.
Liu and Quon waited until Gao had left before the bay horse turned to the tiger. "You were right."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't think this is above-board, either. Something is very fishy about this operation."
"Well what can we do? Compared to Zang and Gao, we're grunts!"
"Correction, you are the grunt..." he said with a smirk.
"Corporal," Quon said with sincerity, "Forgive me if I come across as a humorless bastard, but I fail to see how this is a joking matter."
"Fine," Liu said, snorting air through his nostrils. The bay horse crossed his arms over his chest, thinking, then said, "I'll keep an eye on Gao, you stick to Zang. Of the three of us, he's less likely to harm you."
Quon gave him an incredulous look. "You're kidding."
"No, I'm serious. He likes you."
"Strange how that used to comfort me, and now it doesn't."
Liu stared the youth right in the eye. "I warned you about this when you joined us."
"So now you're throwing me right into the fray?" Quon asked harshly. "Sacrificing me for the cause?"
"Sacrifice? You? Pfft...your reputation as a thinker may have been what got you on this team in the first place...but I've heard the other rumors about you." Liu stared hard at him. "I'm pretty confident you can hold your own."
Quon couldn't help but squirm under his scrutiny. But he bit back. "Is that so? What exactly have you heard?"
Liu returned his hard stare with one of his own, not easy for a horse facing down an apex predator. "Just that you're a better fighter than anyone gives you credit. You can brush it off, saying you're more a scholar than a warrior...but we both know that's not the whole truth."
Quon blinked, but otherwise said nothing. Liu noticed how tense it had gotten between them, then sighed, "Go find the captain. You seem to calm him down, somehow. Until he's calm, he's going to be a right bastard to get along with."
"And the artifact?"
"What?"
"The only thing to survive that fire, that came with this letter."
"Oh, that. I gave it to the Palace historian to put in the Sacred Hall of Warriors. They've got someplace for something like that."
"What makes you think it's so special?"
"Quon, it's a bamboo staff that survived a huge fire...tell me that's not impressive enough to be something extraordinary."
Gao found Zang right where he expected him to be: perusing the Jade Palace's collection of kung fu scrolls. It was most telling to see the black war horse pouring over these documents, studying them, as if by examination he could get inside his enemy's head. He seemed more on-edge lately, more so than usual. The elephant didn't know what his next move would be. But if he played this game as well as he played chess, he was going to use a move no one expected.
"Sir?"
Zang's ear flicked in his direction. "Where have you been?"
"Bringing the corporal and the cadet up to speed. I let them read the letter."
"And?"
Gao hesitated.
Zang turned to level a glare at him. "Do they know?"
The elephant took a deep breath and said, "The cadet is suspicious. So is the corporal, but to a lesser extent. He's more willing to take orders, Quon isn't." He paused. "If I can speak plainly, sir, the tiger's becoming a liability."
Zang sighed through his nose. "Pity, too, he would have made a fine officer. You have told no one else?"
"No sir."
"Good. I have a mission for you, and it needs to be carried out as soon as possible." He set the scroll in his hands down onto an old desk. Gao had never noticed it before, but it bore the marks of perhaps generations of students who had studied here. A couple places had been gored with what looked like frustrated claw-marks. The scroll in the black horse's hands, however, surprised him.
"Nerve attacks?"
"Tai Lung's specialty," Zang said. His tone betrayed that he had underestimated his enemy in this regard. "However, I have found a way around it. The nerve attack can only be done when the assailant has the utmost concentration. Anything that breaks that concentration will render him useless. Use the right distraction, and he will be destroyed."
Now Zang took something off his belt and thrust it into Gao's hands. The elephant looked down at the service-officer's knife still in its sheath. When he looked back at his leader, Zang explained,
"As abhorrent a beast as Tai Lung is, he has one true weakness: his wife."
Gao thought about what he was being asked – no, ordered – to do. He didn't think long. "What do you want me to do about her?"
"Not just her...her and her child."
Gao swallowed, feeling a chill.
Zang continued, "Take away that which makes a monster into a man, the man becomes a monster once again. When Tai Lung is a monster, he gets sloppy. He also may be more willing to submit to us if she were out of the picture. Do what you wish: kidnap her, hold her for ransom, though I would prefer you kill her and her unholy spawn. One Tai Lung is enough for this world. 'Twould be better for us all if they were wiped off the face of the earth. You have your orders. I trust you will follow through on them?"
This was Gao's chance. His chance to join with the cadet and the corporal, his chance to stick to his convinctions. He gave Zang his answer:
"Yes sir, I'll follow them through to the letter."
Mei Xing was cooking. It was after dinner, but she was still hungry. Damn what the doctors said, she wanted rice pudding, so godsdammit, she was going to get it. She added some dried berries to the thick mix of rice and cream, her stomach rumbling with anticipation. She hadn't had this in months and for some reason, she really wanted it, and wanted it right now.
When she turned to chop up an apple to throw in, she stopped to find Shifu in the kitchen's doorway. She didn't know it was him at first, so she held up the kitchen knife for defense. She only lowered it when she saw his face: he looked pale, and very disturbed.
"Hey!" she said. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."
"I'm...afraid I'm not feeling well at all," he said, slowly sinking onto a low stool. His hands were shaking a little.
Mei Xing frowned and handed him the apple she was about to chop up. "Here, you might need it. Getting a little fiber and sugar should make you feel better."
"I'm afraid I can't stomach it."
"So what's wrong?"
Shifu looked right at Mei Xing and made his decision. "We're moving you, tonight, out of this house."
"What?" she asked. "Are you crazy? I'm in no condition to go anywhere!"
"We don't have a choice in the matter. You can't stay here any longer. I've had my suspicions before, but now I'm certain..." he sighed and clasped her hand. "Zang is planning to hurt you. He's planning to hurt the baby. He's planning to hurt both of you," he emphasized. "And if I don't do something to get you to safety, he'll succeed, and not only will Tai Lung never forgive me if something happened to you, I would never forgive myself."
Mei Xing was paler now than he had ever seen her. She held the jade pendant around her neck, and held his hand in a vice-like grip. But when she spoke, her voice didn't waver: "I'm not going anywhere."
Shifu wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. "Not leaving? Mei Xing, maybe I wasn't being clear enough..."
She surprised him when she growled, "Shifu, I am pregnant, not stupid, I heard you the first time! I'm not leaving."
"I urge you to reconsider..."
"Fuck you, I'm staying."
Well, this was not what he was expecting. For so long, Mei Xing had been so pliable and willing to follow anything the doctors and midwives told her, so concerned was she for the safety of her baby, that even a gentle suggestion for their well-being would be enough to convince her. Now, however, Mei Xing looked adamant. "I'm not leaving."
"He's going to kill you, I heard him give his man the order to do so!" Shifu reasoned.
"Let the sonofabitch try."
"You are in no condition to fight him!"
The glare she leveled at him chilled him to the bone. "Shifu," she said with perfect calm as she started clearing the counter. "You are my father-in-law, correct?"
"Yes..." he said, not sure where she was going with this.
"And am I to assume you only have my best interests at heart?"
"Of course! I look at you as my own daughter!"
"And am I also to assume that you respect me as I respect you?"
"Yes, of course."
"Good. Now respect this—" and with this, she picked up the chef's knife and turned to the red panda, fury blazing in her eyes. "Ever since I conceived, I have been ordered around and forced to do things that I knew were contrary to my beliefs, but I did it for my baby's safety. I ignored my instincts, ignored everything I was taught and believed, and became a perfect obedient wife. And you know what? I became exactly what my asshole ex-husband always wanted...and I will be gods-damned if I let you push me around again, you mangy tree rat!"
The knife was shaking in her hand, her knuckles white from the pressure. "You want to tell me again what you think I should do, without getting any input from me? I'm the one carrying this kid, Shifu, I'm the one who's going to push it out, and I'm going to be the one to raise it, and if I'm going to be a mother, then who the hell are you to tell me how to raise and protect my family?"
Shifu took a step back as Mei Xing raged, her fur standing on end as she snapped her fangs and viciously snarled, "Since he got here, he has called me a whore, a bad wife, and an even worse daughter, an embarassment to my ancestors. And now he has the stones to say he's doing the world a favor by wiping out Tai Lung's entire line? If Zang wants to take me down, I'm taking that son-of-a-whoring mule down with me! GOT IT?"
By now, Shifu had learned the hard way why Tai Lung steered clear of Mei Xing when she was in a bad mood. And it seemed the stress from the pregnancy coupled with the stress of her husband being so far away and further complicated by closer threats had finally succeeded in making her...well, snap.
He quickly covered, "I'm sorry, you're right, of course. I was concerned for your safety, and while I still think you should go into hiding, I will respect your decision and stand behind you every step of the way."
Mei Xing stabbed the knife into the wooden countertop and exhaled heavily, still seething.
"I'm staying," she said.
"Okay," he said.
"I need to go knit something."
"Please do."
She took the rice pudding off the heat and set it aside to let it cool. When she walked away to do exactly as she suggested, Shifu shakily sat back in a chair and glanced over at the knife, still quivering from the force it had been slammed into the counter. At that moment, Tigress came into the kitchen from putting Shang down for bed. "What happened? I heard yelling...Master? Are you alright? You look pale."
"Do you have any baijiu?"
"Why? Since when do you drink?"
"Since my very pregnant daughter-in-law bit my head off while wielding your husband's biggest knife."
"Oh." She paused, then offered, "In that case, you're going to need something stronger than wine."
A/N: If Dalang's fighting style sounds familiar, there's a reason for it. I know that Mongolia has its own form of boxing/wrestling, but you know, that wasn't badass enough for me :) . So, for the hell of it, I threw in some elements of Krav Maga, an Israeli combat style developed in the 1940's to repell Nazis from Jewish neighborhoods. Seriously, Krav Maga is insane, hard core, brutal, and did I mention insane? All the sorts of hits that are otherwise illegal in organized fighting (head, below the belt, eyes, mouth, etc.) are perfectly legal, and, even encouraged. I figured that growing up in an environment like Dalang did, he had to know something that was less well-developed and spiritual as kung fu, and something more akin to close-quarters urban fighting, which was what Krav Maga was intended to be. That said, I don't think that Krav Maga is a bad type of fighting; as a matter of fact, if I were not weak, puny, and pasty pale with skinny little bones that would get smashed to bits, I'd like to learn Krav Maga, just for the sheer badassery of it. :D
Mei Xing's desire to knit to cool off is, yes, a jab at myself. I knit to relieve stress. It's a thing, I can't quite explain it.