Chương 13: B1 Chapter 13

"Euug." Orange-crest burp-groaned pitifully, too tired to even finish the noise.

"Rise and shine, Li Hou!" Brother Scouring Medicine said with hateful chipperness.

"No."

"Yes."

"No." Orange-crest threw the robe over his head, burrowing deeper into it. His head felt like Daoist Enduring Oath had crept through a window and sat on it all night. Perhaps passed ass-wind too. His mouth was drier than summer grass. Every accursed glimmer of light that passed through the light blue robes he was bundled up in sent a bolt of lightning-bright pain burrowing behind his eyes.

"I warned you."

"No. No warn."

"This, my simian friend, is a hangover. It's why the wise don't try to drink a jug of wine the size of their body in half an hour."

"Bad." The monkey croaked.

"Fix me."

"No, no I don't believe I will. Not with medicine anyway." Daoist Scouring Medicine grabbed hold of the softly-moaning monkey dumpling and carried it off, robe and all.

"We'll get some food and water in you in a moment. But first, I find there's nothing quite like a quick dip when you're hungover. Really gets the blood circulating."

"No wine." Orange-crest swore.

"No more ever again."

"You might be surprised to hear that while literally everyone says that after the first time they overindulge as much as you did, precious few of them keep that promise." The bleary-eyed and rather damp monkey stared up at Daoist Scouring Medicine. He thought about disagreeing. No, it was not worth it. He could already see the trap, his brother had a long memory. He stuffed his traitorous mouth with a persimmon instead. Fruit had never made him feel like this, flesh or wine. It must be the rice's fault.

Clearly it was simply a bad plant. Perfidious and abjectly inferior.

"You missed much of an excellent night for your gluttony. Daoist Enduring Oath and I spoke for hours after you passed out, until the dawn greeted us. He shared some tales of his adventures in the west that I hadn't heard. How he met the Lord of the Huai River, and saved one of the dragon's young sons from demonic cultivators. I'd always wondered where he acquired that movement technique of his, the Bank-Breaking Step."

"You are..." The monkey paused. No number of bads appended to each other was sufficient to express how mean his brother was being right now.

"You are cruel man."

"I'm still not convinced you know what that word means, but you're not wrong. I suppose now is probably a good time to mention we have thirty False Samadhi Fire Pills to make this week."

"Eh?"

"Chop chop."

"No chop chop." Orange-crest protested weakly.

"Poor broken monkey no good for chop."

"Yes chop chop. But, I suppose we can let you sleep a little more first."

Three days. Daoist Scouring Medicine made him chop roots for three days. If orange-crest never chopped another root in his life, it would be too soon. It wasn't even just roots either, though those were the worst. Every single one needed to be peeled, but take off too much, and Daoist Scouring Medicine would yell at you. Beetles needed grinding, seeds de-podding, and fruits de-seeding. His brother never used the entire ingredient in his formulae, only ever one or two very specific parts of it.

Orange-crest didn't understand why his brother insisted on dedicating his life to such drudgery. He understood the man's explanations. The pills were valuable to Daoist Enduring Oath. He'd received something he couldn't make himself in trade. Alchemy was interesting. An art of transformation and change, refining odd plants and crunchy bugs into little pill-pellets that contained miracles. It wasn't that orange-crest objected to the doing of alchemy.

It was that he knew as soon as his brother finished these pills, he would root through the dusty crevices of his mind and find different pills to make. No fun, only more pills. A pill-demon of the highest order. His brother spent so much time inside his cave. It was almost as if he did not realize he could exit its doors without a reason. Simply roam the mountain. Or, with his speed, roam the next mountain over. That was fine. It was his brother's life. But he was trying to get orange-crest to do it too.

Stay cooped up and only leave for 'reasons'. And that was not fine. Still, for today, the monkey allowed it. Because his brother had given him a shiny new reason he could trade for an excursion. There was a pit of apprehension in his stomach at the thought of rejoining what his brother called the 'Beginner Quarterstaff Lessons'. His mind had grown by leaps and bounds, but he struggled to understand the behavior of the crowd of men.

The lessons clearly had an order to them, they all leapt to the command of the boss, the man called Chang. Daoist Scouring Medicine had explained to him the concept of 'sparring'. It was a thing he knew well, save that it happened at the boss's command. Even in his foulest moods big-butt would never have dreamed to dictate that strife occur at his whim. Monkeys fought when they fought, it was the purview of a boss to command that they cease, not that they begin.

Looking back on his memories though, he could see there were other, deeper, currents beneath the speech of the young men. Many had spoken about him, wanted him as the victim of their violence. Lesson-Boss Chang clamped down upon excess, but incited lesser violence. Like he was a boss for war, instead of peace. On one hand, there was much orange-crest would need to learn to safely navigate the warlike crowd. But on the other hand, hitting things with sticks was fun.

And if he played his tricks right, he might walk away with a stick of his own. And maybe even that beautiful blue belt. This time his brother left him to walk the path to the clearing alone. Orange-crest retraced his steps easily, even before his mind had been cultivated, space and distance had been a thing as clear to him as words were now. He knew countless paths upon Mount Yuelu, secret places and rarely travelled routes.

"You again." Lesson-Boss Chang's voice was an oddity. Unexpectedly high and clear, for a man as large as he.

"Me again." Orange-crest agreed.

"Daoist Scouring Medicine sent me for the Beginner's Quarterstaff Lesson." The monkey watched as the man's eyes widened. Men showed joy in odd ways, baring their teeth as if enraged, but their expressions of fear and shock were quite familiar to those monkeys made. Orange-crest bared his teeth as a happy man would. Good. He'd spent a long time going over that phrase in his mind, getting the curves of the language exactly right. Men liked their little words for filling in gaps to be just so.

Very picky creatures, they were.

"You can speak now."

"I can better speak now."

"Eh." Disciple Chang grunted.

"Good for you. Grab a staff, find a spot, don't make trouble."

"I no make trouble. Daoist Scouring Medicine makes trouble." To orange-crest's mild surprise, that statement drew a proper laugh from the dour man. Good. He looked like he needed a good laugh. Very angry-stiff.

"Are you Daoist Chang?" The monkey asked, emboldened.

"No. I am Outer Disciple Chang De. You may call me teacher, or Disciple Chang."

"Hmm. You look like daoist." Disciple Chang's brow furrowed in puzzlement. Orange-crest decided to stop there. Quit while he was ahead. As he left to find a spot in the clearing, orange-crest internally congratulated himself. He was the best speaker. Even Angry Chang liked him. Maybe last time was an anomaly, like rain in late summer. Perhaps he would leave here with a dozen new brothers! Probably not blue-belt though. He wanted that belt, and theft was usually not a good foundation to build bonds upon.

Unless you were quick-fingers, the most conniving of wenches. She could steal a monkey's food today and earn their gratitude sharing her filched prize tomorrow.

"The monkey is back."

"Really? I thought Brother Yang's beating would have driven him off."

"He probably doesn't even comprehend that he lost. Disciple Chang should have punished him for that stunt with the rock."

"That was Disciple Yang's mistake, expecting honor from a beast. His kindness was taken advantage of."

"Yeah, well I'm not as good a person as Disciple Yang. I'll beat it bloody this time, show the stupid thing it has no place on the Azure Mountain." Orange-crest scowled. He hadn't even done anything yet!

"Hah! You think you can beat it if it stood up to Brother Yang? It might be a monkey, but compared to Yang Wei you're a pig."

"Shut up. I'm a tiger compared to you. I'll eat you alive once I'm finished knocking that monkey's teeth out." The monkey turned to the trio of gossiping disciples.

"You like tiger." He said to the fat young man who had threatened to knock his teeth out. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"It can talk now?"

"Smart enough to speak, too dumb to comprehend." The fat one laughed.

"It's just repeating what I said."

"You like tiger." Orange-crest clarified.

"Stupid. No friends. Smell bad."

"You dare-""Silence!" Disciple Chang roared.

"We begin. Crane stance, second taolu." Orange-crest did his best to follow along as the students began to move as one through a strange dance-like sequence. Every time he missed a step, some of the disciples would hoot mockingly at him, just quiet enough to avoid drawing Boss Chang over. Daoist Scouring Medicine had insisted they were supposed to be learning to fight, but orange-crest struggled to see how standing on one foot this often could possibly be tactically optimal.

He did like the wide sweeping strikes aimed at feet though, he would have to incorporate those into his repertoire.

"Two hundred push-ups!" Euch. Up-down, up-down. Push-ups were stupid. Slow and boring, but very easy. Well, easy for the monkey. The rude fat one seemed to be struggling greatly.

"Push more good!" Orange-crest told him.

"Fat man can do it!"

"Shut your mouth, you fur-faced disgrace."

"Rhino stance, first taolu!" Disciple Chang shouted.

"If you haven't finished yet, add a hundred more!" Stab the innocent wind, a hundred times then a hundred again. Orange-crest liked this one much better. Solid footing, nicely mobile. Great for bopping tall men in the face. The afternoon continued much in this manner. Disciple Chang would run them through a series of moves. They would repeat them a hundred times.

Then they would be assigned a boring and pointless exertion, like running around the edge of the glade for fifty laps, or pretending to sit down but standing up again instead three hundred times. And all the while, a running conversation continued among the disciples near orange-crest. To the monkey's regret, he most definitely was not making friends. But he was learning a bunch of fun new words.

"Eeek ek." The monkey jeered.

"Tchuh, ooo aaah hooo."

"Hah! It's given up. On words!" The fat man choked out in between steps. Sweat poured down his face like a very sad waterfall. The fool! He fell right into Orange-crest's trap!

"Orange-hair learns man tongue in one week. You no speak monkey? Much simple, easy learn. Fat man must be stupid."

"Monkey trash!"

"Man trash!" A vein pulsed in Disciple Chang's forehead.

"If you have enough energy to speak, you're not training hard enough! Leg raises! The full range of motion, prone to vertical! Straighten your backs! You're not done until I say you're done!" Many of the assembled disciples shot venomous looks at the feuding pair. The other two disciples made the prudent decision to back out of the conversation, lest they draw the class's ire.

"Pig. Headed. Bastard." The fat disciple grunted out in between leg raises.

"Yes-yes, give me more bad words to call you." Orange-crest said. Leg raises weren't hard. All of these exercises were quite easy when one was small, with short limbs. Except running. Running had been difficult, but he'd made it through.

"Enough! Pair off, exchange pointers. Disciple Wu, since you love the monkey so much, show it what you've been learning while it's been off clutching its master's thigh. If your exchange is insufficiently vigorous, you'll be running all evening. If you lose, you'll be running all evening."

"Yes, Disciple Chang!" Wu Yingjie slapped his chest, then gave a great shout. The prospect of trading pointers apparently gave the large disciple a second wind.

"Finally! I am Wu Yingjie, second son of the Northern Wu Clan! I shall show you how a real man fights!"

"I am Li Hou?" Orange-crest introduced himself uncertainly.

"Is man name. But I not real man. I hit you with stick now." The first time he'd exchanged pointers, the suddenness of the violence had taken orange-crest by surprise. This time, he was ready. Disciple Wu opened with a headlong charge, staff raised high to swing. Orange-crest easily slid to the side of the wild blow, dancing around Wu Yingjie. His staff twisted as he circled, popping out to tag Wu Yingjie on his ankle. The large man spun back around, cursing and favoring his other foot.

He lifted his staff high again, aiming to crush the far smaller monkey with a single blow. He made it two steps forward, before suddenly stopping.

"Urph." Wu Yingjie grunted. Two small coughs forced their way out of his throat. His face paled, as he struggled to breathe. Then he fell over, unconscious. Orange-crest retracted his staff. Rhino stance, second taolu, third move. Lonely Horn Pierces the Heavens. Orange-crest had no idea what that meant, but it was a good move. A nice stable thrust with all his weight behind it. When used against someone nearly twice your height, it placed the blow perfectly at the crotch of your target.

"Honorless dog!" Someone shouted.

"What a disgrace." Men didn't like being hit there either. Good to know. The monkey watched as the disciple's friends carried him off the field, chattering with obvious worry. In the distance, Disciple Chang resolved that he would take missions instead of teaching a class next year. Human young masters were bad enough, he didn't need simian ones too.

"My trade pointer man broke. Who next?" Orange-crest found the rest of the sparring session pleasantly restful. After a short break while the first round of matches finished, he had half a dozen short matches with very cautious initiates. Some of them were strong, leaving his hands ringing when he parried their blows, but all of them were slower than him. And very concerned about leaving their man-grapes exposed.

It resulted in some very cautious fights in which he danced around the slowly advancing men gently rapping their shins and knuckles while they kept their feet close, ready to swivel their hips and protect their grapes at a moment's notice. Not a stance conducive to rapid charges or effective dodges. Even a monkey knew that. Now that a pecking order was properly established, orange-crest was sure the little-men would show him the proper respect a monkey of his surpassing stick-mastery was due.

"What a monster."

"I heard it's in the third stage already. Apparently its master is feeding it all the pills he can't sell in a fit of pique."

"What a waste."

"You're talking nonsense! It's been here a week, there's no way it could be in the third stage. Even great talents usually take at least a month to complete their third breakthrough."

"What sort of sect is this, that men struggle while beasts are treated like princes?"

"Don't worry Disciple He, they treat some men like princes too. You were just born without talent or a silver spoon, how can you complain they treat you like what you are?"

"Such cruelty! Your words are an arrow to my heart!" Disciple He joked.

"But fear not, for my heart is broader than the horizon, stronger than a dragon, tougher than a xuanwu! It could bear ten thousand such arrows! I shall surpass your cutting tongue, then surpass the cruel monkey!"

"Oh, I'd like to do a lot more to that monkey than just surpass it." Another disciple muttered with a dark look in his eyes.

"Why, if I find it wandering about without its master, I might just teach it some valuable lessons about the order of the world." Orange-crest ignored the peanut gallery and turned to leave. Fun class. Strange humans. Maybe he could do something similar with his brothers when he came home? It would be much more fun without the undercurrents of pride and grudges. Well, red-eyes might take some managing.

But he wouldn't even need to call upon big-butt or the king to restrain him now, orange-crest could probably do it all on his own! Or, maybe not. Red-eyes was a bit of a monster. Fully a match for big-butt on a bad day. But at the rate orange-crest was growing? He might pose a threat to his cruel senior soon. A shadow fell over the monkey. He turned around to see Disciple Chang's formidable musculature looming over him, blocking out the sun.

"Li Hou, what do you think you're doing?"

"Going cave. Daoist Scouring Medicine need more chop chop. Always more pill make. Pill now, pill later." Disciple Chang's eyebrows furrowed at that statement, but he refused to allow the monkey to distract him.

"Put the staff back. It's sect property." Orange-crest stared at his instructor. There was no mercy in his eyes. There was little patience. He obeyed. As the monkey replaced the staff on the rack, he gave the beautiful brown wood one last loving pat. One day, he mouthed. One day he would return to claim you. Out of the corner of his eye, orange-crest saw the blue-belted disciple watching him. The monkey's eyes widened as he saw the man was making no move to put up his own stick, an even more impressive piece.

Bone-white wood with two pieces of shining metal capping the ends, all polished until it shined like healthy fur. Why did he have all the best things? The monkey wracked his memory, searching for the small-man's name. Yang something?

"Why Disciple Yang keep stick?" The monkey asked.

"Disciple Yang brought his own staff."

"You want sticks. You big and strong. Why no take his? Is better than mine." Disciple Chang snorted. Such bluntness. The damnable beast might be a born troublemaker, but at least it learned and followed directions. He could see the covetous gleam in its eyes as it stared at the noble brat. He should probably dissuade it from whatever it was plotting. But then, Disciple Chang had never claimed to be a good teacher. One day, he would be a hero renowned throughout the empire and beyond.

Teaching these idiots was just a stepping stone, a way to gather contribution points as he built his foundation. Would it be so wrong to get a little entertainment out of them?

"Men are not beasts." He finally answered, deciding to split the difference.

"Our civilization is built upon honor and righteousness. I do not rule as a tyrant lest my seniors do the same to me."

"Hmm." The monkey pretended to stroke its non-existent beard. Disciple Chang suppressed a laugh. Well, he'd done his duty. If it needed further direction, it could bother its owner. Orange-crest stared intently at Disciple Yang from across the yard. The young man met his gaze confidently and smiled in response. The young man had two things he wanted. But he was strong, with many brothers. More importantly, he was protected by the way of this place.

Perhaps he could take from him with impunity in the wooded corners of the mountain, but not here, not before the many. Big Chang would sit on him again, or worse. Ideas began to percolate in the monkey's mind, gathering inevitably as water was drawn to low places. Slowly, a plan formed, clear as a puddle in a hollow tree. Yang Wei watched the monkey as the monkey approached him, unarmed. He still wasn't sure how he felt about his unfortunate bout with the creature. It'd been time enough the fury in him had faded.

His mother's medicine had sealed the cut on his face without even a trace of a scar. He'd had far worse before anyway. The monkey was skilled, it'd given him a better fight than any of the other initiates. It handled a staff awkwardly, struggled with the length of it relative to its body. But the way it adapted its footwork to handle the man-sized weapon had even given him a few ideas, and its spiritual strength had proved more than enough to bridge the gulf in physical stature between it and its fellow initiates.

Still, it was an honorless thing, striking an opponent that had shown it mercy from behind.

"How dare it meet your eyes, Brother Yang. Perhaps it's simply too stupid to learn from the last beating you gave it." Yang Wei closed his eyes and sighed. Could these toads never shut up? Sycophantic initiates, and even a few full disciples. They gathered about him like gadflies to a lantern. Drawn by a hope they might hitch their fortunes to his star. True, they were useful for running simple chores, delivering messages and bringing him food, but the racket they made was enough to drive a man to madness.

It would be one thing if the disciple who spoke was stronger than the monkey. But their unearned bravado, hiding behind his strength, was infuriating. His mother and father had been quite insistent that he needed to tolerate them. It would not do to achieve a reputation as unapproachable or cold until he gathered enough men to his side that he could afford to be more particular about their quality.

"What do you want?" He asked the monkey. Perhaps it was here to apologize? Certainly, it had grown an impressive amount in the intervening few days.

"You like shiny rocks?"

"Shiny rocks?"

"Blue like water. Smell like fire." The monkey explained.

"Shiny rocks." Yang Wei's eyes widened.

"Spirit stones. You strike me from behind, then stand before me and ask if I like spirit stones?"

"Yes. You like spirit stones?"

"I suppose, what man does not 'like spirit stones', as you put it. Are you seeking to offer a gift in apology?"

"Apology?" Orange-crest asked with exaggerated curiosity. Yang Wei was a tricksy one, continually trying to change the subject. The monkey wasn't about to let him. This was his conversation, he'd made it.

"What that, good eating?"

"No, an apology is when one-""Don't care. Have spirit stones. You have good stick. Good belt. Want them. I have spirit stones. We do fight-trade?" Yang Wei held up a hand as Initiate Fu began to sputter with fury on his behalf. The annoying boy fell silent.

"Fight-trade?" He asked. Was the monkey offering him a wager?

"We fight. I win. I get your stuff."

"And if I win, I get your spirit stones."

"You no win." The beast clarified.

"But yes." A wager with a monkey. Truly his father had been speaking the truth, when he said that entering a sect would show him there were more things to see than he could have ever dreamed, betwixt heaven and earth.

"One month." Yang Wei answered.

"In one month, we will duel." That would give him plenty of time to break through to the second stage of Qi Condensation himself, and master the first stage of the techniques his uncle had shown him. The monkey might be a natural talent backed by considerable resources, but he would beat it the same way he beat out all his cousins for Uncle Shui's mentorship. By working harder than any, until his legs trembled and his palms bled. Orange-crest smiled, then tilted his head.

"What a month?"