Black Dragon, Black Cat

by Brian Edwards

  Black Dragon, Black Cat

  by Brian Edwards

  谨 以此文献给猛虎馆

  A Carrot Patch Press Novel

  ©Copyright, Brian J. Edwards, 2010

  Cover art by Lu Liu, 2010

  Also by Brian Edwards: The Land-Grant

  Going to Meet the Old Ones

  Baskerville Holmes Saves the Planet

  The Poetry of Time (A prequel to Black Dragon, Black Cat)

  A gift from the moon and stars

  A commotion arose at sunrise one winter morning within the Buddhist monastery at the top of Shai-lae Mountain in the remote northern region of ancient China. This was not an ordinary monastery, if such a thing existed, but the home of the Shailan monks, the legendary masters of the art of kung fu. It was not a place where a commotion was a regular occurrence, and not one where such disturbances were welcome. It was a place where the monks lived by humble means in peaceful harmony with themselves, each other, nature, and the spirit world of the great Buddha. As were all monasteries, the culture there was rich in tradition, not only in the martial arts, but also in the practices of meditation and contemplation of life’s mysteries.

  Nevertheless, a commotion was incited when an infant was found outside the main gate by one of the monks. A wave of hushed surprise and confusion swept through the tight passageways between the temple walls and austere living quarters, hewn into the solid stone of the mountain top by a hundred generations of Shailan monks. Finding abandoned children at their doorstep was not a completely uncommon event: several times each year, some destitute parents would leave their new baby with the monks, knowing that the child would grow up under better conditions than they could provide themselves. The issue this time however, which was responsible for all of the uproar, was that the child entrusted to their care was a girl!

  This monastery, like all others, was entirely occupied by men and boys. Women were not allowed within its walls, since they were potential distractions for those who had committed themselves to humble lives and a pursuit of greater things than earthly pleasures and possessions. Women were not viewed entirely favorably by the Shailan monks, nor viewed as equals to men by the male population of the region in general. Women were thought to be relatively weak creatures, who should be groomed from infancy to make good wives and parents for the next generation of male family heirs. Women had no possessions themselves, but were viewed as family property and remained anonymous in public society. It was therefore not extraordinary, but rather expected, that a female child, who had been abandoned at their gate, would stir some anxiety within this exclusively male society of great warriors.

  In this peculiar situation, these monks of humble means, who lived from day to day following ancient traditions, performing menial chores, meditating on the mysteries of life, practicing their formidable art of kung fu, and conferring with the spirit world, were at a complete loss as to what to do with their new female charge. A panel of the monastery elders was hastily arranged to discuss the matter. Then a meeting of all of the monks was convened. A long and thoughtful discussion ensued. Of course, the obvious answer to the problem was to take the child to one of the nearby villages and find a new set of parents for her.

  This was the first course of action undertaken by the monks. A delegation bearing the orange and white banners of the Shailan Monastery was sent out to the nearby villages to search for a family willing to take the baby into their home. In the ancient days, all of the villagers were poor peasants, with barely the means to care for their own children; everyone refused to adopt the child.

  Since the monks could find no one willing to adopt the baby girl, the delegation returned with her to the monastery. More commotion ensued upon their return. Another conference of the monks was convened to discuss the matter further. After much debate concerning the fate of the girl, with no resolution forthcoming, the monks turned to the Shailan Monastery elder, Grand Master Bai Chen, for a final resolution concerning the girl’s fate. This wizened old man, all wrinkled and bent with age, was one of the greatest masters of kung fu in the history of ancient China. At the age of 80, he was the oldest man in the monastery, yet still possessed the keen intellect that had made him a great master of kung fu in his youth. Grand Master Bai Chen, with some difficulty, pulled himself out of his chair and stood before the congregation of monks within the chamber. Silence immediately engulfed the assembly.

  “My fellow humble beings,” he began, “we have before us a great and unprecedented event.” His voice was very soft when he spoke, almost whispery, and the monks strained their ears to catch his faint words. He straightened his bent old body as he addressed the assembly, and looked at the faces before him with a sincere and knowing gaze from his wrinkled, bald head. He adjusted the orange and white sash of his robe over his right shoulder. “Into our humble monastery there has been entrusted a tiny child, through no fault of her own, who happens to be a girl. We have debated the fate of this child for many hours, with little concern for the welfare of the child, but only in our own selfish interests of maintaining our traditions and customs. Where in our debate has been the compassion that we profess to practice in observance of the principles of Buddhism? Everything occurs for a reason, as fate leaves nothing to chance. The child is a gift from the moon and stars, and the Great Buddha has seen fit to place her in our custody. We must not disdain that which was destined by the stars. It has come to me to decide the fate of the child, and my decision is that we take her into our custody and teach her the ways of the Great Buddha, until the time when fate sees fit to remove her from our company.”

  The assembly within the hall was stunned at these words, but no one would even think to speak against the wisdom of the master: if the great Bai Chen decreed it, then there was no doubt as to the wisdom of the action. In this way, a female child was adopted into the Shailan Monastery for the first time in recorded history, and took her place among the male children who had been entrusted to the care of the monks.

  A growing hunger

  The girl child was nursed and tended by the monks in the same manner as the male children in their custody, but there was always some unspoken detachment in their treatment of her. Even with Grand Master Bai Chen’s blessing upon her, the monks were not comfortable with raising a girl child, as they were accustomed only to raising boys. They addressed her simply as “Girl.” Although the monks were the most spiritually enlightened and progressive men of their day, they were still possessed of the widespread view of women expressed by the general male population of ancient China.

  As she grew, the girl began to notice the differences between her and the male children her own age. As her conscious mind became more aware of events surrounding her, she began to feel that the boys were treated with more respect, although she could not then put a name on it. She began to notice that the monks seemed more attentive to the boys than to her. Something as trifling as a pat on the head or a smile seemed more sincere and lingering when directed at the other children. She began to develop a hunger for attention and a craving for the love so freely given to the male children. She could not understand why this should be.

  Nevertheless, in these early years, she was allowed to play with the boys, and there was a great bond of friendship between her and the several boys her own age. In particular, the girl became very close to a young boy of her age whom the monks had named ‘Xieng-gui.’ During the day, they would watch in wonder the training and practice of the great Shailan warriors, and imagine the day when they themselves would master the ancient art of kung fu. They witnessed the complicated but beautiful movements of the monks, and tried to copy them in the clumsy and comical fashion of young children. They would pretend that they themselves were
great warriors and wage their own imaginary battles in the heat of the afternoon.

  At night before bedtime, the children would listen with excited attention as the monks would recount the oral history of their special style of kung fu, which was renowned throughout even the most remote and inaccessible regions of ancient China. They would hear of the great battles that were fought against invading armies, and of the great heroes who had fought in them. They would listen with rapture to the stories of the Grand Tournament that was held each summer for the past 500 years in the eternal city of Xiaomei, to which great masters would journey from all corners of the known world to compete for the fame and glory of being crowned the tournament champion.

  The stories of the great masters and champions of the tournament never failed to enthrall the children. Each night, the children were regaled with the exploits and descriptions of the tournament championship battles, down to the very movements and techniques used by the masters who fought in them. They would listen to the elders talk about the greatest champions of all, such as the legendary Chao-wun and the great Ming Hao, who for many consecutive years had met in the final match of the tournament to determine the champion, with each one winning every other year. But the stories most beloved by the children were those of their own famous Shailan master, the great Grand Master Bai Chen, and his battles with the legendary hero known only as Hei Lang, which means Black Dragon in ancient Chinese dialect.

  For ten years in a row, Bai Chen had won the Grand Tournament and was widely considered as one of the greatest masters in the history of kung fu. Then for the next ten years, he had fought his way to the tournament championship match only to be bested each time by a newcomer, Hei Lang. Black Dragon became the greatest kung fu master of the previous century, and his prowess was so great that he had invented his own form of kung fu, which no one else could master. Each year, Black Dragon would claim the tournament championship by performing a technique so complicated and unstoppable that it was given a special name, the “Dragonflame.” Black Dragon would leap high in the air with a twisting motion and complete two rotations while his arms whirled over his head in a motion too quick for the eye to catch. His legs would strike out at unnatural angles to attack his opponent with powerful blows that could not be blocked. The speed of the technique was such that the whole movement was performed in a heartbeat, and was said to resemble the sudden flash of an intense black flame.

  Hei Lang was not only the greatest master of the art of kung fu, but was also the most humble man in all of ancient China. Rather than seek the fame and glory of being crowned the tournament champion, Black Dragon would always compete wearing a black costume and mask, covering all but his eyes to conceal his true identity. Never did he speak even a single word. Each year after the championship fight, the humble Black Dragon would melt into the countryside before the closing ceremony that crowned the winner, and not be seen again until the next tournament a year later. One year, after winning the tournament for ten straight years, Black Dragon failed to appear at the tournament. Only then was Grand Master Bai Chen able to win it again for another ten consecutive years. No one had ever known what became of Hei Lang, or why he had stopped competing in the tournament, and no one had ever been able to perform the complicated and beautiful movements of the Dragonflame. There were few left alive who had ever even seen it.

  Each night, the young girl would lie awake in bed thinking of the stories she had heard that evening and dreaming that she was a great Shailan warrior, fighting in the tournament. She imagined herself performing all of the complicated techniques she had watched the monks practice daily. In her mind’s eye, she could see and hear the roar of the crowd with each victory, and could taste the fame and glory that came as a reward for winning the championship. She felt destined to take her place among the greatest Shailan warriors of all time.

  Several years passed, and the children in the monastery grew taller and learned the ways of the Shailan Buddhist monks. They practiced meditation, performed menial chores, tended to the gardens, and studied languages and fine arts. These things they did willingly and with humbleness, for each knew that the day was rapidly approaching when they would be rewarded: they would be called before the great master, Bai Chen, and asked to join in the daily lessons, exercises, and training of kung fu. That would be the day when life began anew, and each child was excited by the possibilities that this new life would offer.

  Finally, when the children were six years old, that glorious day arrived. One by one the children were called from the garden that they tended to an audience with Grand Master Bai Chen, until only the girl remained. She waited with anticipation for her turn to come with a nervous feeling in her belly, but no one came to fetch her. She tended the garden all afternoon, alone, with a growing feeling of anxiety and impatience.

  Finally, at the hour when the sun begins to descend in the sky, the little girl could stand no more. She dropped her hoe and ran from the garden all the way up the steep steps to the temple at the center of the monastery. When she got to the top, the massive doors were closed and only silence came from inside. The girl pulled at one of the doors, but it was too heavy for her to budge, not even an inch. She pulled and tugged at it with all her strength, but all in vain. Nevertheless, she continued to struggle to open it, becoming frustrated and angry to the point where tears began to stream from her eyes. Still struggling at the door, she heard the swish of a robe behind her, and looking up, she gazed into the eyes of Grand Master Bai Chen.

  “Girl,” whispered the master in his wispy, lilting voice, “why are you struggling with this door? What is it you wish to find inside? There is nothing inside of note but enlightenment, and you cannot find that through strife.”

  The girl bowed to the grand master, feeling the intense fire in his eyes pressing against her face. With her eyes deferentially pointed toward the ground, she replied, “Grand Master Bai Chen, I was searching for you. I thought you would still be inside.”

  “No, I left the temple hours ago, and went to the shrine in the cave on the hillside outside the walls to meditate. I have just returned to see you crying and tearing at the temple doors. What is it you wish of me?”

  The girl kept her eyes fixed on the ground, but stated firmly nonetheless, “Master, when you called the other children into the temple to ask them to join in the training of the great art of kung fu, you forgot about me and left me in the garden.”

  The Master raised a quizzical eyebrow and adjusted the orange and white sash suspended from his shoulder. “But child, you are a girl,” he began in his soft-spoken and respectful mannerism. “What need do you have to learn the art of kung fu? Your purpose and meaning may be found without such training. The spiritual life of a woman is centered within her family, and it is there that you will find your true self-worth and inner peace. The martial art of kung fu is restricted to men, the protectors of the kingdom in a time of war. The discipline required to master it provides one of the pathways for men to find inner peace, strength of character, and self-respect. It cannot be practiced by a woman. Doing so would only lead her down a path that is not compatible with her true nature and place in the spiritual world. You do not need kung fu to find your place in the world.”

  These words fell heavily upon the child. “But Master,” cried the girl, bursting into tears, “I have dreamed of becoming a great warrior all my life! I have listened to the stories, and I know that I could…”

  “Girl,” interrupted the Master in his gentle and humble manner, “you could no more practice kung fu than you could open this door. Women do not possess the strength of mind and body necessary to perform the movements of kung fu. You might just as well push against the walls of the temple. Men practice the art of kung fu; women follow other pursuits such as the art of embroidery and the making of fine silk fabrics.”

  Master Bai Chen raised the girl’s chin with his hand and looked deeply into her eyes. For a moment, his eyes turned cloudy and lost focus on the girl, as if rem
embering some long ago event. She thought for a brief instant that maybe he would relent, but then he shook his head slightly and brought his eyes back into hers. “This is the way it has always been, and the way it always will be. Please, Girl, go back to the garden and tend to your vegetables. One day, you will find your pathway to inner peace, and realize the wisdom of my words.”

  With this statement, he patted the girl on the head, bowed to her, and slowly hobbled back down the steps of the temple with his walking stick. Although he felt great compassion and sympathy for the girl, he knew that he must be firm in his tone now so as not to encourage her down a path that could only lead to a bitter and unfulfilled life. He left the girl sobbing beneath the doors of the temple.

  During the ensuing weeks, the hunger within the child continued to grow stronger. Each day she would watch with envy as the boys would learn new basic techniques and movements of kung fu. There was no longer any relationship between her and the boys; she no longer wanted their company, and they were beginning to sense the differences between men and women and displayed emotional indifference toward her. At night in the garden, she would secretly copy the training she had witnessed that day. Each day she grew stronger, but her movements were clumsy and lacked proficiency because she had no first-hand instruction.

  One night, one of the boys with whom she had been very close in the past, Xieng-gui, chanced to stroll through the garden when the girl was practicing the movements she had seen that morning. This boy was rapidly developing into an uncommonly astute pupil of the Shailan style of kung fu. He saw the girl attempting to copy the basics stances, without much style or grace. He approached her and asked, “Girl, why are you doing this? Don’t you know that kung fu is for men, and should not be practiced by women?”