Gold Tiger King - Ch. 11

The Heart of Yen-shu

Rated E Everyone

Yen-shu stood to his feet. As the air settled, the light peeking through the canopy painted glowing blotches across his face. He scowled at the blue creature claiming to be “his destiny”.

“Prepare for battle,” it said as the last of the willow leaves filled out its far shoulder.

Yen-shu let a shaky breath seep from his tightened mouth. His nostrils flared as he pushed his forward fist toward the earth, the other aimed up next to his jaw. Knees bent, feet slid into place across the crunching grass.

The blue man widened its stance. One hand sat just off its cheek, fingers bent like tiger claws. Palm faced out. The other stretched out toward Yen-shu.

He recognized this form. Though he didn’t know the name or origin, it spoke to him like birds to a whisperer. His opponent knew kung fu.

“Are you ready?” said the azure anomaly.

“How do you know that stance?” Yen-shu asked.

“I don’t. Not yet.”

Yen-shu squinted, brow furrowed. The creature of destiny smirked. Then it rushed in!

The being lunged with claws forward. Yen-shu stepped back, losing his balance. The blue one swiped with his palm. Its aggression was apparent. Savage gurgles and snorts shot out of its throat with every attack.

Yen-shu rolled out to dodge. He backed away from Shandian to quell her nervous whinnies. He couldn’t see an opening. The creature dove for an attack. Yen-shu moved in to get under it, but it flipped midair with a rising wheel kick. The strike clapped against the underbone of Yen-shu’s chin. His head bobbled back as if his neck were a twig.

With swift thought, he curled his spine. Hands behind his head. Leaning into the fall, he used the momentum to roll back onto his feet. But the creature was immediately upon him.

It pounced like a true beast. Fangs bared, its claws found Yen-shu’s chest. They both slammed into the ground. The sapphire skinned creature raised a fist. A majestic roar erupted from its mouth.

Though with the gut of a lion, it was still the voice of a man. “You have lost it all haven’t you? All of your heart, your spirit?”

Yen-shu kicked the thing off of him and rolled away, popping to his feet. “The questions I have outnumber the words I know.”

“Your spirit! The very thing that gives me breath!”

“What did you mean when you said you are my destiny?” Yen-shu brushed himself off.

“The answer you seek is in the very question you ask.” The creature charged Yen-shu, tackling him back to the ground.

Yen-shu’s head smashed into the moist earth. He shouted in pain.

“Even the blind can see better than you, Long Yen-shu,” scolded the blue man.

Yen-shu threw a wild fist. It struck the thing’s noseless face. He tried to slide out from under its straddle. The creature buried a claw into the soil, his palm nailing Yen-shu’s neck to the planet beneath them both.

“How,” Yen-shu choked, “Do you know my name?”

The being leaned in so that his leafy breath fell directly upon Yen-shu’s dirty face. “Because.” The creature stood up, lifting his gasping opponent into the air. “I...am...your...destiny!”

As Yen-shu’s skin began to match that of his opponent, it tossed him into the tree where Shandian awaited, rattled and restless. The young man’s back cracked against the bark. He fell onto his face, coughing and groaning in agony.

“You will never defeat me,” the blue creature said. “You cannot. You would not allow it.”

Yen-shu sat up with heavy breaths. He propped himself up against the trunk of the darkened oak.

“What,” he exhaled, “What are you saying? What are you saying to me, spirit?”

“Ahh.” The mysterious being smiled as he fell to a cross-legged sit. “You are, for once, on the right path.”

“So that’s what you are? A spirit?”

“Your spirit. That you can not see that concerns me.”

“What is your concern worth? You attacked me for no reason.”

“That you can not see the reason concerns me more. The you that was may yet be lost. Perhaps you should have stayed with the emperor’s family. At least then you would not be distracted by…” The humanoid creature scratched its chin. “Danger and adventure, I suppose.”

“What are you here for, spirit?” Yen-shu winced, pushing off of the tree to stand himself up. “Speak clearly. I do not have the mind for your vagueness.”

The blue being interlocked its fingers and rested his upper lip on arched hands. “Why did you ask how I knew that stance?”

“It...reminded me of something.”

“Of kung fu?”

“Was it not a kung fu stance?”

“Did it not seem familiar to anything you learned from those noble, martial trainers?”

Yen-shu looked away and into a memory. “Come to think of it, I don’t remember much of what I learned from them. Though I can hold a sword well enough, I’d guess.”

The creature stood. Crossed its arms. “That stance invoked the image of the tiger.”

Yen-shu’s eyes lit up. “So you do know kung fu?”

“As will you.”

“How do you know this?”

The blue man raised a brow.

“Oh, right,” Yen-shu scoffed. “You’re my destiny.”

“Do you want to know where I learned kung fu?”

“Shaolin?”

“No.”

“Where then?”

The creature took a deep breath. It looked back toward the glade where he first appeared.

“Look deep within yourself,” it said. “Deeper than you may even know is possible and answer me this.” It turned only its head to the side. “Why must you learn kung fu?”

Yen-shu stepped forward and put a hand on Shandian. The blue creature faced back toward the clearing.

“Because when I was young,” Yen-shu said, “I watched men battle for days in sport. Their moves were like water, like the animals of the wild. They had discipline, skill. Passion. I knew, even then, that it was my destiny.”

“Yes. And why?”

“Why was it my destiny?”

“How did you know it was?”

Yen-shu looked into Shandian’s obsidian eye. He ran his hand along her shoulder and up to her neck. “I just...knew.”

“That’s not good enough,” said the strange being.

“What?”

“You must go deeper.” It strode over to Shandian. Much to Yen-shu’s surprise, the horse clopped forward into the gentle petting of the mysterious humanoid. “To know even a fraction of oneself is key to carving one’s own path.” The creature’s glowing gaze pierced through Yen-shu’s tired stare. “Why do you want to learn kung fu?”

The young man, stolen and sold to be set free to a world that cared not for the fine silks he set out in nor the dream he held fast, looked out to the glade as the now gilded sky cooled to dusk.

“I am...unrefined,” he said. “In heart, mind, and body. I am aimless. The discipline of kung fu can cure that.”

“Kung fu is like any other discipline,” said the blue man.

“I disagree. I could feel it even in our battle. The power you have. It belongs to me. I want something--” Tears began to form on the salmon cliffs of his eyelids. “I want something to call my own. Something I hold in my heart that wasn’t brought onto me by the martial arts teachers of Li Gong’s house or whatever else was placed in my hands to carry. Even this horse I ride and the clothes on my back are not mine.

“Those sportsmen fought to entertain the nobility yet in that moment they were in complete mastery of themselves. Even though I am free, I--”

Yen-shu sniffed. Wiped his face and cleared his throat.

He looked square into the eyes of his destiny. “I feel as if my own life does not belong to me.”

The creature's chin bunches up.

“Even now,” Yen-shu said, “A witch tells me in the night where my fate lies. I bet it was her that sent you.”

The blue spirit smiled. “Are you so blind that you could not see that my very existence came about by your own efforts?”

Yen-shu shook his head in confusion.

“Qingliu,” said the spirit. “The blue willow of Wugong. The leaves that followed you and tried their best to guide you. Did you not see them form me before your eyes? The days, months, and years you spent thrusting your dreams upon that dead piece of the world brought about new life. Its feather-veined plumage is filled with the blood of your knuckles and watered by the sweat of your brow.”

Yen-shu let out a deep breath as he leaned back onto the oak.

“I came to you by your own hand.” The blue willow spirit walked back toward the shimmering glade. “Heed the call of your destiny, Long Yen-shu. Ride south. Not for Shaolin.” Then it faced Yen-shu once more under the light of the young moon. “Ride for the mountains west of the Shiguan river.”

Yen-shu watched with wide eyes as the creature dissipated into a thousand blue willow leaves carried out by the newborn night’s swirling, midsummer breeze.

“I will guide you,” said the wind, “As I have since the day I was born.”

TO BE CONTINUED in the NEW Gold Tiger King.