BES: Chapter 7

For the next week, I was drilled hard by Leung Shun in the Martial Arts of the Shaolin Temple. With my other classes canceled in order to get me up to snuff for the duel, Leung Shun was able to really focus his efforts on ensuring my survival. Conditioning, Hung Gar, and a new addition, Shaolin Dan Dao, were all trained, though some were trained for far less time than others, and some were altered in the new emergency curriculum

Conditioning the body to take hits was not the focus of this week of conditioning, as it had previously been. Instead, the focus was far more on the Plum Flower Formation, the exercise that trained speed, lightness, and endurance all in a single exercise. In this exercise, 5 circles a foot in diameter were laid out in the shape of a plum flower, and you had to move between the circles while practicing your forms while keeping your feet within the circles at all times. While doing this, you had to maintain your breathing exercises. When taken together, this training method allowed you to practice quick, flexible movements while maintaining your wind and building speed, flexibility, and stamina. I had done this before during my time training under Leung Shun, but never this much of it. When I brought this up, however, Leung Shun had an answer waiting for me.

"No, you normally would not train in the Plum Flower Formation at the expense of normal conditioning. It runs the risk of throwing off the Iron Shirt conditioning you usually receive to take blows. However, you have gone and gotten yourself into a deathmatch for some inane political reason. It is my duty as your Sifu to see that you survive while fighting an opponent with two years of experience on you. Speed, lightness, and stamina will aid you more than conditioning your body to take blows. You are a long way from being able to take a hit from an arrow and keep fighting, and no one can take more than a flesh wound from a blade and continue on, even with the Iron Shirt conditioning. Unless the Gongsun heir intends to beat you to death with his fists, this is the method we will train." Intoned Leung Shun.

The Hung Gar training as well was also halved. Instead, half of that time was devoted to teaching me the basics of Shaolin Dan Dao. I'd had the benefit of a decent amount of training in Hang Yuet Dan Dao as part of my Hung Gar curriculum back in my old life as well as a little training in Mongol Ild from this life, which put me in decent condition to pick up the Shaolin Dan Dao techniques and adapt my prior training into what worked for the new style. Over the course of the week, I took techniques from all three styles and blended them into a more comprehensive fighting style, discarding what didn't work or what was for show rather than utility and adapting the rest. At the same time, I adapted bits of Western Boxing, Muay Thai, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, Judo, and Mongol Wrestling into my bare-handed martial arts to form a unique style all of my own. Leung Shun helped me in both endeavors, as he seemed intrigued by my prior training. Part of the way through the week's training, his curiosity could no longer weather the emergence of the new Dao style he had a hand in.

"Stop. This has intrigued me all week, but you have had prior training. I can tell where some of the influences come from, I see a bit of the Southern Flower Sword Style of the Wudang Mountains, and a bit of Mongol Ild, other influences seem stranger. Some of your movements are reminiscent of the sort of thing seen from Hokkien pirates, some of the footwork seems to be similar to that of the warriors of Liuqiu, and the jumping attacks seem purely intended to make a grand display while achieving nothing of practical use. Your bare-handed style as well has adapted techniques that seem to be based on grappling used by the people of Wa, Mongol Wrestling from your own peers, the Kicks of the Sukhotai and Lan Na Warriors, and even a strange style of punches I have never seen used in a formal style before. Tell me, where did you learn all of these disparate techniques?" He questioned.

I frowned at the question. How would I answer it? I could tell easily enough that the modern Hang Yuet Dan Dao I was using carried influences far beyond what I should have knowledge about. It used Sanchin footwork from Okinawan Shuri-Te, techniques adapted from the Wudang Temple while being taught by the Hongmen during their revolt against the Ming, the movements adapted by Hung Hei-Gun from a style practiced by his Hokkien wife, and even the techniques I had discarded as too impractical for actual use outside of Wushu Form Competitions. All of them were parts of a modern style that had no place this far back in time. I hadn't wanted to use it, but in this case, it was literally a life-or-death situation.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I hedged, stalling for time.

"You may be surprised at what I will believe. Tell me." Repeated Leung Shun.

I hesitated, I wanted to keep Leung Shun on side, his training was proving to be invaluable. I did not want him to think me a madman, though. That way led only to assassination or being sent away from court, never to return. Kublai would never countenance a madman in any sort of position of power. It would reflect poorly on him and show our family as weak enough to produce addled children. Unless. . .well, Leung Shun was a monk, a Buddhist monk at that. It was possible he might chalk this up to an unusual reincarnation from a prior martial artist. Maybe I ought to ease him into it, though? Yes, I could imply part of the story and let him fill in the rest himself. That seemed to be a good compromise between clamming up and possibly losing his tutelage, and telling him I was a white guy from almost seven-hundred-sixty-two years in the future who caught a lucky break and was reincarnated by Tengri. That second part would only confirm to him I was mad, so half-truth it was.

"I have dreams sometimes. Things come to me in them, ideas, snippets, almost like they come from someone else. When I wake up, I can usually remember the ideas. This week I've been dreaming of a Dao style." I answered hesitantly.

"And you've been injecting techniques from that style into training? Merging them with the Training you've already received from myself and your other tutors?" Queried Leung Shun.

"And discarding everything you've said wouldn't work in a real fight and adapting the things you said to adapt in the ways you said to change them." I confirmed.

"And this style came to you in dreams?" Asked Leung Shun.

"It did. I know it sounds mad, but I promise you I'm not mad." I insisted.

"Hm. Such things are known in the old stories. Every now and again, you'll meet a hermit who claims to have gotten an idea for a new medical cure from a dream. Usually, they're just liars or mad, every once in a while, though one of them has something useful. Ginger tea for indigestion or mugwort leaf to treat various female problems. These are things that a doctor who has studied medicine would know, but that an old hermit without access to a tutor would not. I suppose it is not so dissimilar for you to have gained insight into combat from such dreams. That it is enough to be capable of modifying into a whole style, with such parallels to already existing styles, is unusual, however. I would need to consult with monks more learned than I in the ways of these things to truly get to the heart of the matter, and I cannot return to the temple to do so until your training is complete." Mused Leung Shun.

"You do not think me mad?" I questioned.

"To be mad, you must be irrational, and you are not that. Hasty perhaps, foolhardy at times, but not irrational. I do not think you are mad. You may simply just be creative enough to imagine a workable style from snippets of overheard conversation while you sleep. Such things have been known to happen in dreams. Whether that is the case or not, it is immaterial to the task at hand. Now, take up your guard! We have more drills to go through!" Refuted Leung Shun, putting the question of whether I was mad, creative, or a reincarnation aside for another time.

By the end of the week, I had managed a workable mishmash of a basic style with the help of Leung Shun. It wasn't complete, but it was far more than I could have expected had I been learning just Shaolin Dan Dao from scratch. My speed, flexibility, and endurance had also seen a marked increase from the concentrated training. Not amazing, but not small compared to where I'd been before. I'd even advanced my ability with Hung Gar some, learning the basics of Tiger and Crane Paired Fist while increasing my capability with Taming the Tiger Fist a little bit beyond the basics. Only my conditioning to take blows had not gained any extra capability, as the training this week was only sufficient to maintain my prior capability. I knew I was not even 5 percent of the way to mastery of any of these skills, but it would be the work of years to master them, even with my current schedule of doing nothing but training. Thankfully, my previous life's training had given me a head start. As my intensive training course ended, Leung Shun appraised my performance.

"Hm. . .acceptable, I suppose. You show enough promise that I feel confident in saying that, barring any other dreams or unforeseen circumstances, you will achieve sufficient mastery of everything I have taught you up to the journeyman level in perhaps three to four years at your current pace, give or take a couple of months." He intoned.

"Where does that rank on the Temple's scale?" I queried, wondering if that level of mastery was the equivalent of first dan in my old life.

I hadn't really had much contact with belt systems in my old life. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu was the only martial art I trained in that had actually used belts. Modern Hung Gar and Amateur Boxing didn't use them at all, and only the boxing was super concerned with rank for tournament purposes. Still, the desire to measure myself against others was there.

"You would be considered an elder brother to most. You would not be eligible to even assist teaching by the temple's standards, however. That would take another two years of training beyond that. To teach by yourself, we would require another eight years of training on top of that." Answered Leung Shun.

That seemed to track with the ranking system I'd been familiar with. three to five years to black belt, two years for the second degree, four years to the third degree, and four years to the fourth degree. No teaching without a higher-ranked instructor until you get to the fourth degree, no assistant teaching until the second degree. A minimum of thirteen years of training is required before becoming an instructor. I'd managed to become a second-dan assistant instructor of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu back in my old life after ten years of training and had trained in Hung Gar for four, Muay Thai for two, Judo for two, and Amateur Boxing for three. It was a decent base to build off of, and I was pretty sure I could use that and Leung Shun's training to at least get to whatever the Shaolin Temple's Equivalent of fourth dan was in this life by the time I reached the age I'd been when I died, if not sooner. Of course, I'd have to survive that long to get there.

"Thoughts of mastery dancing in your head, eh? Be warned, I do not know if I have thirteen years in this deal to train you. Your father may decide you are trained enough after five and allow me to return to the Temple. Even if we do have that long, you would have to survive, not just this foolhardy decision to accept the duel, but all the other foolhardy decisions you may make in the future. Were I you, I would focus on the journey." Grinned Leung Shun, amusedly.

"Still, it's an admirable goal, is it not?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Survive tomorrow's duel, and then we can talk about the future. For now, you are dismissed." Responded Leung Shun.

I left the Dojo for my apartments. I ate in my rooms after bathing, a hearty meal of chicken la main and a decanter of qatarzimat lemonade. Then I went to sleep. That night, I dreamt of wolves and dragons. A large blue-gray wolf was fighting with a Chinese dragon as the sky rumbled with thunder and lightning. The wolf was faster and stronger than the dragon, but the dragon was cleverer and would often fly away the moment the wolf got close to ending the fight. Eventually, however, the dragon tired, its movements slowed, while the wolf did not tire. Eventually, the dragon was too slow to fly away from a pounce, and the wolf managed to bring it down to the ground and seize its throat in its jaws. The thunder rumbled ominously, and a blue bolt of lightning struck the scene from above and eclipsed the scene in a flash of light.

That was when I awoke. It was morning, and I was ready to face Gongsun Ping. I bathed, dressed, and did my morning business, then saw to my equipment for the duel. We were permitted armor, as I had been told earlier, but I needed to use my speed to my advantage. If the dream was at all emblematic of today's events, I would need to not be weighed down by heavy armor. Instead of the steel lamellar everyone was likely expecting me to wear, I instead dressed in far lighter boiled leather armor. I strapped on my dao and proceeded to the great hall. It was almost ten in the morning, the appointed time for the duel, when I strode into the great hall.

Standing there, waiting for me, was Gongsun Ping, heir to the Gongsun Clan, dressed in heavy steel mountain pattern armor. His armor was ridiculously over the top, with the mountain pattern scales sewn onto a richly lacquered blue and white leather backing, ornaments done in burnished brass depicting snarling dragons and demons dotted the armor, with a big dragon across the stomach done in honest to Tengri gold! The big dragon even had painted pearls for eyes! Compared to my well-made, but entirely functional leather armor, it was a monstrosity, likely meant to show off the wealth of the Gongsun Clan to the court as much as it was meant to protect Gongsun Ping. For a weapon, Gongsun Ping carried a Fangtian Ji with a steel head, lacquered red wood haft, and a red silk tassel hanging from just beneath the head. I shook my head at his appearance. It looked as if the Gongsun Clan had come for a political show, not a fight to the death. Had nobody told them I had accepted the challenge?

I scanned the crowd to see if I could find anyone who would confirm that notion. It didn't take very long to find them. Lord Gongsun hadn't been very subtle about things. Gongsun Xu stood in his ceremonial blue silk and gold court brigandine, alongside Lady Gongsun Mei, whom I had briefly met during the incident that had started this whole thing, and an eleven-year-old girl who had to be Gongsun Lian, who had stayed within the palanquin during the initial incident. Lady Gongsun Mei was wearing a multiple-layered court dress of teal and white, while Lady Lian wore a matching court dress in a slightly lighter shade of teal. Gongsun Chang was there as well, wearing the embroidered official robes of the Magistrate of the Dajing Gate, and he was sneering at me from the sidelines. That was the look of someone who thought they had won. If bringing his wife and daughter didn't confirm for me that nobody had told Gongsun Xu that I was going to fight, then the smirk on his brother's face certainly did. I stood in front of the court as my father called for silence.

"Silence! Gongsun Ping and Prince Dalai, step forward!" Ordered Kublai.

I stepped forward, and so did Gongsun Ping. I looked at Ping, and he seemed to be assured of himself already, just from the look on his face. Just what had my father told the Gongsun if not that I was going to fight? To think he was this confident of victory before even one attack had been thrown. Now I really wanted to beat him into the ground like a tent peg, just to wipe the smug smirk off his face.

"As I told you, I will make my decision on what is to be done about this challenge today." Continued Kublai. That explained that. He had stalled, telling them anything other than to be here. Underhanded, but then, so was this entire thing.

"Gongsun Ping has challenged my son, Prince Dalai, to a duel after he allegedly made a fool out of the Gongsun Clan in the middle of the main road of Zhending, for all the city to see. He alleges that my son called the guards on his unarmed uncle and defenseless mother and sister simply because he would not move out of the way of their procession. In doing so, Gongsun Ping alleges that Prince Dalai's actions lowered the standing of the Gongsun in the eyes of the court and impugned their good name. Do I have that all right?" Questioned Kublai, laying everything out.

"You do, my Khan." Informed Gongsun Ping.

"What have you to say against these accusations, Prince Dalai?" Queried Kublai.

"Only that perhaps Lord Gongsun and Gongsun Ping received faulty information on what truly happened from Gongsun Chang. First, Gongsun Chang was not unarmed. He had a whip and was horsed, whereas I was on foot. Second, Gongsun Chang threatened to whip me for daring not to move out of the way of their procession. Third, I was fully willing to settle the matter personally, but a trio of nearby guardsmen saw fit to intervene without my asking. Finally, I let Gongsun Chang leave the confrontation with face. I say that I did nothing to lower the Gongsun's standing at court and impugn their good name. Gongsun Chang did that all by himself." I retorted.

"Enough of your lies! My Khan, we are here to see what will be done about this if not a duel, not go over the already established facts!" Called out Gongsun Chang from the sidelines.

"Indeed, we are. I have come to a decision regarding that. After consultation with my advisors, I have concluded that as a challenge has been laid down, it would be against propriety not to see if it will be answered before going to any alternative solutions." Intoned Kublai.

The court began to murmur in the background. This clearly wasn't what they had been expecting. I looked over at the Gongsun Clan to see that Gongsun Xu's face had gone from smiling to a carefully schooled neutral expression. He knew exactly where this was going and clearly didn't like it. Gongsun Chang's face was slowly turning white, as if he'd tried to assure Gongsun Xu that Ping wouldn't even have to lift a finger in his own defense. Gongsun Mei's face was hidden by her fan, and Gongsun Lian had a worried frown on her face, clearly afraid for her brother.

"Prince Dalai, you have been challenged to a duel. Will you fight?" Asked Kublai.

"I will, Father." I confirmed.

"Gongsun Ping, your challenge has been answered. Who stands for you?" Questioned Kublai.

"I will stand for my nephew!" Exclaimed Gongsun Chang, a little too quickly.

I guess he wanted a front-row seat to his machinations going down in flames. He hustled over to Gongsun Ping's side, face pale as a ghost. It honestly served him right for being this much of a sneaky, conniving, asshole. He clearly was here just to see me be humiliated and now that the prospect of exile was out of the window, it was either his ass or mine depending on which way the duel went.

"Prince Dalai, who will stand for you?" Queried Kublai.

"Won't you, father?" I asked.

"I suppose I should, or your mother will never shut up about it." Grinned Kublai.

With that, the court's murmuring grew into audible shouting. Most of the Mongol Noyan seemed to be laughing and placing bets, a few of the Jurchen Noyan, though, had their families more accustomed to the Chinese way of doing things in the one-hundred-nineteen years between the conquest of the Northern Song and their conquest by Chinggis. These seemed to be murmuring that this was all highly irregular. Some of the Manchu Noyan were taking bets on victors and were joined by Turkic and Mongol Noyan, placing bets. The Gongsun Clan's reactions were the most extreme. Gongsun Xu's carefully schooled neutral expression had become one of anger as he realized he could potentially lose his son for a political move that was possibly based on a lie. Gongsun Mei had turned away from the scene as if she couldn't bear to watch the duel commence. Gongsun Lian looked like she was holding back tears as her older brother was about to be thrust into a fight for his life.

"My Khan, please! We need you to officiate, not pick sides!" Implored Gongsun Chang.

"I understand that not having me officiate could be an issue. I have picked replacement officials, a pair of them. Leung Shun of Shaolin Temple and Uriyangkidai, son of Subotai, step forward!" Called out Kublai. Gongsun Chang looked like he was about to protest, but my Father silenced him with a look.

"Do you have an objection to the impartiality of a Monk and the Son of the blood brother of the Great Chinggis?" Demanded Kublai.

"No, My Khan. Not at all." Blanched Gongsun Chang, paling even further, somehow.

Both my teachers stepped forward and bowed to my father. Then cleared an area in front of the dais for Gongsun Ping and me to have our climactic duel. The court moved slowly to give us the space, and it took my father backing up the two officials to get the more recalcitrant noyan out of the way. Once that was done, my father returned to my side, and I waited for the next instruction. The pair of officials walked into the middle of the space marked out in front of the dais.

"Both fighters come here." Ordered Uriyangkidai. I made my way to the center of the space, as did Gongsun Ping.

"Face each other and bow." Intoned Leung Shun. I faced Gongsun Ping and bowed. Gongsun Ping did the same, more slowly.

"You made a poor decision agreeing to fight me. I have two years of training on you. You have what? two months, if that?" Sneered Gongsun Ping.

"It is not the time spent training so much as how seriously you take your training." I responded.

"Take your positions!" Ordered Uriyangkidai. I drew my dao as Gongsun Ping brandished his Fangtian Ji at me in what he likely thought was an intimidating manner before entering a stance.

"I'm going to walk right through you, then all will know the Gongsun Clan is not to be messed with!" Boasted Gongsun Ping.

"Talk is cheap. Actions are what matter." I shot back, taking up a stance of my own.

"Both combatants ready?" Asked Leung Shun.

"Ready!" I confirmed.

"Ready!" Shouted Gongsun Ping.

"On my signal, begin. Not before." Instructed Uriyangkidai, holding his hand in the air. Gongsun Ping stared at me, clearly trying to scare me, but I was far older than this body, and the glare of a thirteen-year-old didn't faze me. I stared right back at him.

Then Uriyangkidai dropped his hand and shouted, "Begin!"

And the fight was on. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we have the next chapter. It's mostly set up for the duel in terms of both training and in terms of the preamble for having a duel in front of the court of Kublai Khan. It seems the Gongsun didn't know exactly what they were in for with this challenge, largely because Gongsun Chang decided to be a conniving, lying sack of shit about everything to cover his own ass, and ensured Gongsun Xu that Gongsun Ping wouldn't even have to fight. Of course, trying to pull political moves like this and bullshit Mongols doesn't usually tend to work, so he's about to see his plotting go up in smoke from a front row seat.

At any rate, the next chapter will include the actual duel itself, as Dalai takes on Gongsun Ping and attempts to make the Gongsun eat their words. Hopefully, this chapter and the next one seem a bit like chapters from a Wuxia Novel, because that's what I'm going for here.

Stay tuned. . .