Results 1 to 9 of 9

Thread: Weapons Under Heaven Saga (wuxia)

  1. #1
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    Mar 2004

    Default Weapons Under Heaven Saga (wuxia)

    Well, since the harddrive wipe also wiped my very first attempt at a fanfic from this forum here i am to repost it again. I hope at least somebody out there is interested in reading it. But first, a disclaimer:

    -I have no experience in writing, tho i like to write
    -I have little knowledge of chinese history/geography so deal with that
    -There is no outline, i'm making this all up as i go
    -I am too lazy to edit or proofread so.....yeah

    And please, feedback is greatly appreciated. If it's bad flame me! Be honest!

    So without further ado, here are the first four chapters which have previously been posted

  2. #2
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    Mar 2004

    Default Chapter 1 - The Race

    Weapons Under Heaven Saga - 天下武器傳

    Through the bustling crowd, amongst the busy street vendors and viewed from atop overlooking restaurant balconies, a race ensues. In the wake of this race is human tragedy and suffering. Dumpling stands overturned; tables smashed beyond usefulness; vegetables trampled beyond salvage. These small businesses, so many of which do not even profit enough to ensure the survival of these merchants and their families, are ruined.
    Those without the quickness or guile to remove themselves from the path of this wanton destruction have no choice but to let fate decide their luck: those blessed with fortune escape with broken bones; those without such blessings do not escape at all.

    And as these lowly peasants find themselves scrambling and crying from their misfortunes, they are drowned out by the raucous cheers and gambling spirits of the wealthy restaurant patrons. From their high perches above the street, these affluent princely socialites are seemingly so amused by the spectacle that they are oblivious to the hardships being endured by the peasants below. Or perhaps the torment only adds to their amusement…

    Amazingly, the participants of this race are but two young men. They rampage through the street like two massive bulls. Their arms act as the bull’s horns, thrashing about to clear the way in front of them. A swift graceful swing of an arm from one racer sends two men spinning into the air. There did not appear to be much force behind this swing, as if only to brush the two people away. But regardless, one lands through a table where two others are eating while the second man is sent flying through a stand of pears.

    The culprit of this deed, the racer adorned in an elegant robe of pale orange, turns his head to look back at the other racer just a few steps behind. “Brother,” he calls out “You’ll never win with that passive attitude of yours. Victory is once again mine!” With that the racer in orange turns his attention back to the road ahead, never once slowing his pace.

    His face brims with confidence as he continues to charge down the street with the force of a bull. Yet, his movements are more akin to that of a gallant steed or an agile leopard. His feet push off the ground with a gentle softness that surprisingly propels him quickly forward. These gentle movements are contradicted by an undeniably aggressive stance that lunges him fiercely and quickly to clear the obstacles that block his way whether they be inanimate or living.

    And while the orange robed racer shows a vibrant, almost coy smile on his face, the other racer in contrast is stern faced with an undisturbed determination in his eyes. Dressed in a short-sleeved green shirt and pants, he is somewhat larger that the competitor he trails. He shows no emotion, completely disregarding his brother’s taunt as if nothing else in the world existed for him except the goal of completing this race.

    Truly, this green shirted racer is the personification of a bull. He barges forward with a terrible strength equal to that of the orange robed racer. But while the orange robed racer calculates his targets position to move them out of his way that is advantageous to him without ever breaking stride, the green shirted racer charges forward in a direct line regardless of what is in his way.

    In the path of this raging bull, chairs, tables, people are plowed through all the same. Whether it is simple wood that shatters or bones that break, this runner sees nothing in front of him but his final destination. An elderly peasant recollecting the little wood carvings he spilled from his basket as he was escaping the carnage, inexplicably scampers directly into the path of this blind bull. These trinkets are important to the old man as the sale of them provide the only income he has to sustain his ailing daughter-in-law and underfed granddaughter. But these matters are no longer of consequence to this old man as his ribcage is shattered and his body flung limp into another group of innocent victims.

    Fifty metres ahead of the racers, in the middle of the street, is seated a moderately aged man. Shades of grey patch his pristinely combed hair and the bottom of his white and crimson red robe shuffles about as wind and dirt is kicked up by the escaping mob. Interestingly, the mob makes a decided effort to avoid this man. Any stragglers who find themselves within two metres of this man find themselves immediately falling limp to be trampled and absorbed into the mass of fleeing peasants behind them.

    Surrounded by these masses, this man seems completely unnerved and ignorant to the events around him as he stares into the clouds sipping his morning tea. But in reality, nothing escapes his vision. Within the crowd of escapees and victims, this man recognizes many people he’s had dealings with. Pondering in his mind are thoughts of how this man, now dead, will care for his young and recently married wife. How that child will survive now that both her parents are dead. Or how unfortunate it is that this man will escape death despite the crimes he committed against his flesh and blood brother.

    But of most interest to this man are the two racers creating this mayhem. They are both his students; he their master. He is renowned in the martial world. Paving his way to prominence in his youth as the Cloud Mansion Heir 雲莊太子 and later gaining recognition among the true elites as Mister Yue 悅先生, he is the ‘Sky that Manipulates the Clouds’天中擺雲, Yue Cheng Tian 悅承天.

    The carnage before this Mister Yue is all his doing for this race is yet another one of his tests for his two young pupils. Thus, the welfare of the people on the street is of little concern to him as he is most interested to see the outcome of this race. Furthermore, Mister Yue has much greater problems gathering in the near future and the outcome of this race will greatly alleviate some of those ominous dark clouds…

  3. #3
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    Mar 2004

    Default Chapter 2 - Legacy of Heaven's Weapons

    Looking away from the clouds now, Mister Yue turns his eyes to his two students. Not surprisingly for Mister Yue, Chang RuFeng常如風, the racer in the noble pale orange robe and the younger of the two martial brothers, was in the lead. Looking back to ten years ago, Mister Yue is quite glad he accepted the chest of gold and other lavish gifts RuFeng’s father, a wealthy salt trader, presented him in return for accepting RuFeng as a student.

    Speaking aloud but to no one in particular, Mister Yue praises his young disciple, “the boy has proven to be quite the adept learner. Ah, he will be quite useful. Quite useful indeed. Hm, but I must push HuoLu harder. Much harder if will be of any use to me at all.”

    The racer in green, with the stern, unwavering face is Tang HuoLu 湯火路. When HuoLu was nine, Mister Yue found him in the street fighting for scraps among the dogs. At the time, Mister Yue was fully aware of the child’s situation. Tang LiWen 湯理文, HuoLu’s father, was a well known court official who had gained the praises of the emperor. But his political dealings with unsavory characters led to his slaughter and the slaughter of his wife and two mistresses, his eldest children, his uncle and everybody else in the household. Only young HuoLu managed to escape and eventually, Mister Yue took him in as his third disciple.

    Watching his two students plowing down the road toward him now, Mister Yue clearly sees the differences in their progression. RuFeng picks up speed with every obstacle he dispatches. His movements graceful like that of a swan but with the impact of a boar. The scattering people are no hindrance to him as he flings them not to the side, but ahead to clear the path further.

    In terms of power and cultivation, RuFeng is no match for HuoLu. And Mister Yue knows that in this stage of their training HuoLu would win in a match everytime if they were to spar. But any exchange between students is strictly prohibited by their master and the only tests of their skills have come in forms such as this race, which have been dominated by RuFeng.

    HuoLu bulls ahead with no less the impact than his martial brother. Yet, every contact he makes with a table, merchant stand or person that is in his way causes him to be a spec of dust slower. However miniscule this may be, it is enough to create a gap between the two racers.

    “HuoLu has taken the virtue of strength to another level. A much higher level, yes,” says Mister Yue. “Ah but strength is only the first step and will always only be a rudimentary element to my Cloud Shift techniques 擺雲功. With these qualities, HuoLu would never have been accepted into Cloud Mansion 雲莊. Never.”

    Yue ChengTian, Mister Yue people call him, remains seating alone, sipping his tea and seemingly engaged in a conversation yet who is he having this conversation with? Certainly he is not speaking to the fleeing masses that surround him. It is as if he speaks to the clouds themselves. And that is the peculiar habit of this Mister Yue, he, the ‘Sky that Manipulates the Clouds’.

    “No, only RuFeng can grasp my advanced teachings and carry the thundering force of my Cloud Shift techniques 擺雲功 with the gentle sway it demands. Mm, yes, gentle sway.” As he says this, Mister Yue rises from his seat. His right hand combs through his grey-patched black hair while his left dusts off his finely woven red and white robe. The street is now deserted save for Mister Yue and his two students and the crippled or dead that litter the ravaged street.

    Chang RuFeng, who reaches his master first, kneels before him, hands clasped together in respect, a fatigued smile on his face. “Sifu!,” he pants. “What will you reward me for this victory? Thunder Striking palm擊雷掌? Thunder Storm Hand technique雷暴雨手法? BaiYun (Cloud Shift) Shengong 擺雲神功!?”

    “Ah, BaiYun Shengong 擺雲神功. BaiYun Shengong,” Mister Yue speaks these words with his head turned up to the sky. He is speaking to the clouds again. “Yes. BaiYun Shengong. A superior technique of Cloud Mansion 雲莊.”

    “Really! BaiYun Shengong! Sifu, you’ll teach me BaiYun Shengong!” Rufeng is absolutely ecstatic at the prospect of being able to learn this advanced neigong (内功 inner energy) cultivation technique. He turns to Tang HuoLu, who having reached their master by only a step slower than his younger martial brother, is kneeling beside him. “Ah! Brother, Sifu is finally willing to transfer me Cloud Mansion’s 雲莊 ultimate technique BaiYun Shengong 擺雲神功 now that I won the race!”

    In his youthful exuberance to share his joy, Rufeng completely neglects what feelings and reactions HuoLu may have upon hearing this news. Feelings of jealousy, anger, discontent would be normal and expected. Afterall, having been under the tutelage of Mister Yue for a number of years longer, HuoLu, not RuFeng, should be one bestowed with knowledge of this shengong based on seniority alone.

    But, Tang HuoLu, his face as calm as ever, just nods his head in acknowledgement. Showing neither resentment nor happiness, it is as if in HuoLu’s heart, he knows only to serve.

    Raising an eyebrow towards RuFeng, Mister Yue asks, “You feel you are ready for BaiYun Shengong 擺雲神功? Do you now RuFeng?

    RuFeng leaps from his kneeling position, and pounces to his master’s side. Overjoyed he proudly announces, “Absolutely sifu, it would be an honor. You will see! I’ll pour my heart into it! I will not disappoint.”

    “Mn,” nods Mister Yue. For a few seconds Mister Yue says nothing. He seems to be in thought as he raises his hand to his head to brush back loose strands of hair into his pillowy-grey patched set of black hair. Rufeng, clinging to his master’s arm, feels like his heart will burst from his chest in anticipation.

    Finally, Mister Yue opens his mouth to speak. “You have improved greatly Rufeng. Much to my expectations. I am very pleased…” Rufeng clenches tighter to his master’s arm. What he has been training towards these past few years will finally come to fruition he feels.

    Mister Yue continues,” Yes, very much improved. You move with grace and elegance like a gazelle while maintaining the power of a bull…” Rufeng’s heart plummets down a chasm so deep, it is beyond endless. He knows that his master will not bestow BaiYun Shengong 擺雲神功 upon him this day. “…Ah but Rufeng, compare yourself to HuiYing回英and LuoJian 洛劍. I began training them in BaiYun ShenGong but a year ago. Compared to their level a year ago, and you still have much work to do RuFeng.”

    Rufeng lets out a disappointed sigh, “Sifu, your words are true. I cannot begin to compare to Elder Sister 大師姐 and 2nd Brother 二師兄. Their level of skill is far beyond mine.” The moment his master compared his movement to that of an animal, Rufeng knew he had no hope.

    A hundred years ago, a doctrine had been passed down from an invincible sage. The name of this sage and the techniques he used are remembered by only a few, but his doctrine remains and its words have been passed throughout WuLin 武林 for generations:

    All things under heaven are blessed with talent.
    Humans are blessed with intellect
    Animals are blessed with physical prowess
    Earth is blessed with nature
    The Sky is blessed with divinity
    These are the weapons of heaven. Use them and control them.

    Cloud Mansion 雲莊 is a large advocate of this doctrine, called the doctrine of the Weapons under Heaven 天下之武器典. Chang Rufeng, being a student of the once Cloud Mansion Heir 雲莊太子, is fully aware of what the doctrine means.

    Rufeng recalls the time years ago when this stranger who he was to call sifu began interpreting the meaning of this doctrine to him:

    “Humans are blessed with initially the weakest talent. Man, pitted against beast with nothing but what heaven has blessed him with does not stand a chance. Man cannot compare to the durability of nature. A rock can withstand greater punishment than any man can. The element of they sky, the stars and the sun and the moon control powers no man could even fathom.”

    “But intellect allows man to acquire these talents and use them for himself. Through my training, one can acquire the speed, strength and reflexes of a beast. You can gain the power to move winds and shake earth. At man’s peak one can control the sky itself.”

    Thus, when Mister Yue likened him to that of an animal, Rufeng knew that he had not yet taken the next step. A bear, no matter how strong cannot topple a mountain. A bird, no matter how far and free it can fly, cannot escape the wind. To be ready for BaiYun Shengong 擺雲神功, one must first acquire skills rivaling that of nature and earth.

  4. #4
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    Mar 2004

    Default Chapter 3 - Tea in the White Flower Inn

    As disappointed as Chang RuFeng 常如風 was, the disappointment was quickly brushed to the back of his head. Coming from a wealthy family, he got pretty much everything he ever wanted or needed. All his life if there was something he didn’t get, something just as good would be presented to him. If he wanted one toy, a dozen would be presented to him. He got the best clothes, the best food, even his sifu Mister Yue came as a spoil of his family’s wealth…

    Before he came under the tutelage of Cloud Mansion’s 雲莊 Mister Yue, RuFeng was witness to an amazing duel between a silver-haired man wielding a moon-shaped spear and an extremely large, husky man with two tiger embroidered axes. The fight lasted the good part of an hour as the two combatants fought their way all over the city into alleys, over rooftops and through gambling parlors and inns.

    Rufeng, just a child then of 7 or 8 years, chased the warriors wherever they went hoping to catch more of excitement. His caretaker scurried to keep up and keep the young master out of danger. Who came out victorious Rufeng does not know but for the following few weeks he begged his father to find the silver-haired man so that he could be his student and learn from him.

    However, to Rufeng and his father’s dismay, the man could not be found, nor was there any trace of the husky man he fought. Eventually though, the Cloud Mansion Heir 雲莊太子, Yue ChengTian, would find himself in the very same city as the Chang’s bringing with him a very large reputation and Rufeng was more than happy to have him as a master.

    Thus, because of this background, RuFeng has grown to be very undemanding. In fact, RuFeng has become very much complacent towards most things. He cares not about material things or about his future. Right now, his infatuation with 功夫kungfu has occupied most of his attention.

    “Sifu, wasn’t that great when I used the 7th stance of 飄雲追雲掌法 Floating Cloud, Chasing Cloud palm technique and send two men flying into the air! And then when I used the 2nd stance…,” Rufeng continues to endlessly pester Mister Yue with every move and every stance he performed.

    Mister Yue sits back in his seat, stroking his mane of black hair tainted by patches of grey. He gives his high-spirited student his full attention even though Mister Yue is every bit aware of every move RuFeng executed, even more so that RuFeng himself.

    “…and then I combined the 8th stance and the 12th stance and then…” And as RuFeng continues to share his joy, life begins to pour back into the street. The injured begin to struggle to their feet. Others return to collect their damaged belongings; or to gather the dead bodies of husband, father, mother, brother, son, daughter. There is no discrimination against those fated for death, all are equal; none escape.

    “…there was this body where I was about to land and I had to act quickly so I…,” continues RuFeng.

    At first, Tang HuoLu was quietly listening to his younger brother’s ramblings, but when the cries of sorrow began to fill the street behind him, his attention was instinctively drawn away. Carrying the same sternness that seems to never wipe from his face, his mind was like a mirror shattering into a million different thoughts.

    He thought, “We just ravaged this street with complete disregard…those people, I hurt those people…” HuoLu looked back at his master and Rufeng. They were still discussing the race, showing no concern for the lives of the people they just ruined.

    “Should I try to help those people?” wondered HuoLu. “Will they accept my help? *sigh* What good can I do anyways, I am weak, and I am poor. Maybe Sifu or RuFeng will help them…”

    And although the notion to help those poor people kept wavering in his mind, HuoLu did nothing, not even ask his master and martial brother to aid them. In his heart, he felt that “if Sifu wanted to help them, it would be done. He would command me or RuFeng to carry out his order. Since he has not done so, those people must deserve to suffer, and it is not my place to speak.”

    Not too long after, the street that was a horrid wreck but a few moments ago began to show signs of its former bustle. The dead had been carried off and the injured returned home to nurse wounds or await death. Beggars and scavengers looted what belongings and property they could before being beaten away. Opportunists fought for vacancies on the street left open by merchants unable to continue due to death or injury or because their stand was destroyed.

    Mister Yue and his pupils had now moved their discussion to the second floor of the city’s most lavish restaurant, the White Flower Inn 白花樓 where they were having their morning dim sum. Just as HuoLu raised the teapot to replenish his master’s cup of tea, a women’s voice came crying out from the first floor, “SIFU!”

    Clambering up the stairs came two people. The one who cried ‘sifu’, a woman in her late twenties, was quite the beauty. Her face had a sharp-edged quality and her eyebrows portrayed a ferocious spirit. Beads of sweat rained down that face now, and the anguish in her face made her all the more stunning. The sleeve of her powder blue dress was partially torn revealing a pure and softly toned forearm. “Sifu!” she cried out again.

    “Elder Sister 大師姐! 2nd Brother 二師兄!” cried out RuFeng who came bursting out of his seat to meet his two older martial siblings. The two were indeed the elder students of Mister Yue, Lu HuiYing 陸回英 and Fan LuoJian 氾洛劍. LuoJian was leaning against HuiYing, an arm around her shoulder. He was barely even conscious.

    The torn sleeve of HuiYing’s dress was tightly wrapped around LuoJian’s eyes. The thin cloth, long soaked into a deep red, could not hold back the blood that was spilling profusely from LuoJian’s right eye. His regal green robe was also soaked in the vile red from numerous wounds all over his body.

    HuoLu, though concerned for HuiYing and LuoJian, remained in his seat, looking towards his master for instructions. A look of concern replaced HuoLu’s usually dull demeanor and he hoped his master would soon acknowledge the presence of his two elder siblings.

    But Mister Yue remained in his seat, looking only out the window at the clouds. His right arm hung over the table, a pork dumpling clenched between the pair of chopsticks he held in his right hand. And he remained like that, unmoving, as if waiting for something to happen.

    And then a laugh. It was an insidious laugh, cackling like a dead crow. It rang throughout the inn, and carried through the many streets below. “Hello Taizi (heir) 太子!,” came a hollowing voice. It seemed to come from right behind you, like somebody over your shoulder, but it was really a voice carried over several miles. “I’ve missed you,” continued the voice. “If you are afraid, run! Cower in fear, hide from me. Otherwise, I am coming to see you. Wait for me, khakhakha!”

  5. #5
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    Mar 2004

    Default Chapter 4 - The pain of the wait

    Lanterns now lined the streets throughout the city. Most street merchants had cleaned up and had gone home to rest from another tumultuous day. Only a few remained hoping to make a few extra coin from the night crowd. But while most streets had a fair amount of human traffic, one street remained barren. Its only denizens were the diseased rats gnawing at trampled vegetables and garbage. The scampering sounds of their rodent feet scurrying from one side of the street to the other were the only discernable sounds within this desolate corridor.

    There were no lanterns in this abandoned street to remove the bleak foreboding darkness. The single trace of light came from a single candle located on the second floor of the White Flower Inn 白花樓. It is here that 悅承天 Yue ChengTian and his four young apprentices had stayed and waited the entire day for their unknown adversary to make himself known. But even now, with the sun set and the moon residing in its place, this enemy has not appeared.

    That morning, when HuiYing came carrying the bloodied body of Luojian to find him, Mister Yue knew that the perpetrator would not be far behind. He could clearly see that the injuries LuoJian suffered from were received in battle; a battle in which he was thoroughly dominated. If this enemy could have done this to LuoJian, HuiYing had no chance for escape. He knew the skill and technique of his two elder students were almost parallel though HuiYing may have a one or two move advantage due to her ability to make the correct decision in the most frantic of situations. Mister Yue deduced that since HuiYing had no chance of escaping herself let alone rescue LuoJian at the same time, the enemy must have let them go with an ulterior motive in mind.

    When he heard the eerie laughter and that hollow voice, Mister Yue knew he had been right, and their true target was apparently himself. He glided from his seat to LuoJian, quickly sealing his pressure points to stop the bleeding, and then he was back in his seat, chopstick in hand, siumai (pork dumpling) still clenched between the sticks of wood as if he never left.

    “Ah Ying,” churned Mister Yue. His voice was different than before. Whereas it sounded as clear and crisp as a beautiful sunny day earlier, it now carried a thundering deepness like dark clouds in the distance signaling an impending storm. “What troubles have you and LuoJian carried with you? Speak quickly!”

    “Yes sifu,” replies HuiYing. Carefully placing LuoJian on a seat, she places her hand on his cheek before turning to kneel before her master. “2nd brother 二師弟 and I were at the lake…” she pauses and steals a glance at LuoJian. “At the lake training when this, this boy, he must have been only 17 or 18 years, no older than 4th brother 四師弟, came leaping out of the trees and challenged us.”

    “He said…he said master you…,” she didn’t dare to continue.

    “Out with it!” roared Mister Yue. “Don’t be so tentative, it’s not like you ah Ying, now speak! What did he say?”

    “Yes sifu,” HuiYing swallows her inhibition and answers. “He said, sifu, you are a disgrace and tarnish to the great name of Cloud Mansion 雲莊. He said Cloud Mansion no longer exists in JiangHu because…because of your incompetence.”

    After saying this most disrespectful remark, HuiYing raises her eyes to see what reaction her master would have upon hearing this. One glance and she quickly averted her eyes to the ground. Mister Yue’s face and demeanor was that of the most horrendous storms. Darkness surrounded him like black sinister clouds while his eyes flashed like bolts of lightning raining down to destroy the earth below.

    But he didn’t say word, so HuiYing continued to recount her story. “2nd brother and I told him to shut his mouth about matters he knows nothing about. But he didn’t listen and said if it weren’t for…if it weren’t for sifu, your lack of skill and leadership, then the senior members of Cloud Mansion would not have left and there would be no need for the once brilliant Cloud Mansion to concede to those infidels at Hua Mountain 華山…”

    This time HuiYing didn’t dare steal a peak at her master’s reaction, but quickly continued fearing her master would only get further upset if she dawdled. “The little brat didn’t know his place so younger brother 師弟 raised his sword and attacked. I really wanted to teach that boy a lesson but he was our junior and Wulin 武林 would look down on us if we double teamed him. Our reputation isn’t worth a copper but we couldn’t let sifu lose face.”

    “But…but…it was unthinkable how fast that boy was. Younger brother師弟 warned him several times to pull his weapon but that brat just kept his hands behind his back. Jian ge 劍哥, I mean, younger brother 師弟, kept forcing him back with his blade but after thirty moves, not one connected. So younger brother 師弟 unleashed his most proficient technique, 9 Swords of Cloud Piercing 九劍穿雲.”

    “And that’s when the boy pulled his sword. But, sifu, that sword he used could hardly be considered a sword! It was as thin as leaf!”

    By now, the aura of darkness surrounding Mister Yue had settled, his temper calmed much like the end of a terrible storm when the menacing clouds pull away suddenly to reveal the clear blue sky. Slowly, and more composed, he said, “But it was this sword that injured LuoJian. Was it not? Ah, hmm, yes, bringing strength out of weakness. That is what I have tried to teach each of you. That is the way of the cloud. To bring lightning that scorches the earth, and thunder that shatters rock, out of nothing but a puff of smoke in the sky.”

    “Forgive us sifu!” quickly replies HuiYing. Though stumbling on certain occasions in her speech, she has, even now spoken unnerved with a resilient spirit despite her obvious concern for the fatally injured LuoJian. “We have been a disgrace to you; despite many years under your honored tutelage, we are not gifted enough to grasp the true meaning of your techniques.”

    “But you are not wrong sifu, after unleashing all nine swords of 9 Swords of Cloud Piercing 九劍穿雲, that boy was untouched but younger brother 師弟 had innumerable wounds and his eye…his eye,” as she said this, her eyes began to water. The color from her face had been drained by her continuing despair. So white and pale now, she turned ever stunning face towards LuoJian, still collapsed in the chair she placed him in, as silent as a corpse. Suddenly, she looked away from that horrible sight and screamed, “HIS EYE DANGLED FROM THAT WRETCHES SWORD!!”

    She had seemed so resilient, so strong. That was what her master admired so much about her, the ability to remain calm and unnerved in any situation. Only then could the right decision be executed and HuiYing had done exactly that all these years under Mister Yue’s watchful eye.

    But now, so unexpectedly, she burst into tears, frantic, slamming her hands on the wooden floor she knelt on. She pounded that floor relentlessly, fist after fist. She screamed in anguish, and then her fists stopped. She dug her nails into the stiff wooden floor, slowly dragging her nails, trying to claw through the wood. She couldn’t look at LuoJian. She didn’t have the courage to see him, his body wrapped in those garments drenched of blood, his life dissipating slowly away; away from her…

    That was almost 10hours ago. Fearing for their lives, the patrons of White Flower Inn 白花樓 had long deserted. Even the owner of the establishment fled home. He comforted his impending loss by burying his face in the bosoms of his 3 beautiful wives. For him, lust overcame wealth on any day.

    The single candle illuminated the only five people who took up seats in the 100patron capacity of the renowned White Flower Inn. After HuiYing’s emotional outburst, not a single word was uttered again by anyone in that building. Mister Yue knew that the words of this enemy were a challenge. If he fled, he would never be able to show his face in JiangHu 江湖 with any dignity ever again. And so, he waited, like a cloud drifting in the sky, no where to go, no where wanting to go.

    Each of his students knew the intent of their master, and so, they too waited. But for these ten hours, the minds of each student were occupied by drastically diverse thoughts; each belonged only to themselves and defined their individual. In times of crisis, the true nature of the animal sheds thru the protective shrouding, no matter how deceptive or strong they may be.

    The light gleamed off HuiYing’s face, shrouding half in shadow. She now held LuoJian in her arms; his wounds had long been tended to by her careful attention. They sat together on the ground, the ten inch long scratch marks hidden by shadows to their side. For ten hours, she only had one thought, and it raced like a frantic bee trying to escape imprisonment. That thought was the well-being of her younger martial brother, her childhood friend, her one love, Fan LuoJian 氾洛劍.

    She was a broken woman. For so long she had been the steady will of her master’s bidding. Her decisions would always be the right ones. But now the strength behind that steadiness is broken and she can only sob. She is lost. She does not know how to make her next move; the move that will save LuoJian’s life.

    LuoJian had now been awake for a few hours now, though still weak and life still not assured. The light from the candle bounced off his face, as if it were afraid to remain on a face already plagued with a darkness reserved for the dying. Ever since he awoke, he was overcome with a torrid depression. But he wasn’t depressed from the pain of his wounds, or the loss of his eye. And though he truly did care for HuiYing, his thoughts were overcome by a different matter altogether.

    Flickering back and forth in his mind was his ineptness; his inability even to scare a mere child. A child that skewered his eye from the socket it dwelled. All the hard work he had put in all these years to reach the level he is at now, only to find himself helpless against a mere infant. At this point, LuoJian was not even concerned about redemption. He was too consumed in his own remorseful pity. He regretted not working harder; regretted placing too much time in trivial affairs like love. A love that he now realizes only hampered him.

    On the other side of the candle, two tables away, sat Chang RuFeng 常如風. The candle flickered from a small breeze and its glow highlighted the youthful features of his face. He was a good looking young man, and his wealth and stature only made him all the more attractive to eager young ladies. But his youth deprives him of experience; and his wealth deprives him an understanding of the real world. The only world he knows is the one his parents paved from him with their money.

    His thoughts for these 10 hours have been erratic. Just as soon as one thought pops into his head, it is just as quickly replaced by another. Not one thought lingered long enough for him to really explore its meaning. Of course he thought of obvious matters like “Will 2nd brother 二師兄 survive?” “Who is this ‘boy’ elder sister 大師姐speaks of?” “Why have these enemies not shown themselves? Are they hiding?”

    But his mind also wandered to thoughts that did not demand immediate attention or were even quite trivial. He wondered whether the things that boy said about his master Mister Yue and Cloud Mansion 雲莊 were true. He also thought how beautiful elder sister appeared despite her grief; in fact he thought she became more attractive with every changing expression. “Would any of the girls I courted feel the same way for me as elder sister feels for 2nd brother?”

    Sitting directly in front of the candle, his face lit up by its tiny flame, Tang HuoLu 湯火路 didn’t know what to think. Or more correctly, he didn’t want to think it, because it was a most impudent thought. One that would most certainly ostracize it’s thinker from society. And most certainly in the world of JiangHu 江湖 there was no place for such a person.

    In his mind, HuoLu contemplated ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. And though if one were to ask him to define right from wrong, he would not be able to do so. But HuoLu could not help but think whether the villain in this situation was this mysterious boy who had so gravely injured 2nd brother for apparently no reason, or whether the true evil behind all this was his own master.

    Was it something master did wrong that brought this boy to come seeking revenge? If not, then HuoLu, for the life of him, could not believe anybody would do such a thing without reason. Inherently, HuoLu is a good-natured person, so quite naively, he believed in the good of others as well. And ultimately, he lacked experience in the treacherous world of JiangHu, so it was quite understandable he would be confused as he is.

    ‘Clang!’ ‘Clang!’ A noise rang irritatingly through the cold streets. An old man banged a stick against a symbol. He dragged his right leg behind him as he walked down the street towards the White Flower Inn. He announced the time as he crossed, it was already midnight. The lights had disappeared from the streets and the buildings. The city was quiet. Even the brothel had closed.

    The single faint light resonated from the second floor of the White Flower Inn. There sat the former heir of Cloud Mansion, as lordly as ever, and like his students he too had a thought in his mind. It was a scary thought. “1, 2, 3, 4…four students plus himself made five people. But clearly now there were at least 8 people in the room!” Even scarier was the thought that, he, the Sky that Manipulates the Clouds 天中擺雲, the revered Mister Yue, did not know when they came in…

  6. #6
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    Mar 2004


    Chapter 5 will be up soon if somebody is actually interested

    I promise this one will be more action packed than the other chapters where i realize nothing has actually happend.

    I also promise to try to move the story along more swiftly. No promises tho!

  7. #7
    Join Date
    Sep 2004


    i'd say its a pretty well-written story and the ideas of comparing nature, animals as weapons, ideas such as bringing strength out of weakness, those are really interesting

  8. #8
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    Mar 2004


    Thank you for your praise Letal
    i hope i kan make those ideas consistent throughout the story. Keeping them consistent is the real hard part.

    and i hope you like the characters too. I think anybody can come up with new fresh ideas, but creating characters that feel real and are truly interesting is not so easy.

    So anyways, on with chapter 5!

  9. #9
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    Mar 2004

    Default Chapter 5 - Statues Awaken by Shadows

    The room remained still. Like statues waiting to be perched upon by foul crows, the students of Mister Yue remained still. Though they sat engulfed by the light of a small flame, their fire within had long been drained by the tedious wait. Oblivious to the presence of their visitors in the shadows, even their senses had waned.

    Patience is a virtue. Patience allows for rationale, for peace of mind, for clear thinking. Most importantly, in a duel, patience is an advantage. Among masters, making the first move only reveals yourself to the enemy, allowing them to counter you appropriately.

    But at this moment, the clouds do not call for patience; they call for lightning and thunder. A thunderous crackle explodes about the room as a flurry of projectiles rip through the air. Powered by the omniscient strength of BaiYun ShenGong 擺雲神功, these projectiles, unleashed with Cloud Mansion’s Thunder Storm Hand technique雷暴雨手法, seek out their targets in the shadows like the perpetual torrents of a dastardly thunder storm.

    The three feint figures hiding side-by-side within the shadows, of which this rain of death is intended for, seemingly has no route of escape. Caught they are, like a small fishing boat stranded in the vast unrelentless waves of the ocean.

    But these three shadows are not fishermen. They do not wrangle fish, and they do not carry oars. The shadowy figure in the middle has never touched an oar in his life; never even rowed a boat. But he does carry a sword, a sword that has tasted blood. This sword is unleashed now from its dormant slumber to taste steal. In a moments time it seems like this sword has slashed out a thousand times to deflect the rain of projectiles, allowing for the other two figures to dash out of harms way.

    Sparks fly as steel tastes steel. The projectiles shatter upon contact into little fireworks of light. And though they do not shatter simultaneously, the projectiles come with such speed and thickness after one another, they all seem to collide at the same moment. For that second, the flashes of light reveal the face of the wielder of this sword.

    Young, with an unblemished face and a radiant glow. His petite nose in perfect symmetry with the rest of his face. His eyes, widened by the barrage of weapons, reveal its brilliant jade tint. The short storm has ended. The young figure stands relaxed in the shadows, his sword partly invading into the light. It’s an extremely thin sword, thin like a leaf. It is almost unimaginable how this sword remains straight and unbending based on its thinness. The sword, pointing towards the ground, remains unsheathed. Steel was only an appetizer, it remains to taste blood.

    But the manipulator of clouds, Mister Yue, does not have the time to examine this young boy or the thin sword he wields. No, he does not even have time to regret. Regret for exposing himself with his impatience, for the moment he unleashed his barrage of attacks, he immediately sensed a fourth assailant. This fourth figure came from behind, and he was no longer in the shadows for he too had exposed himself because he was now on the attack.

    Erasing the shadows, the glaring edge of a curved blade slashes through the darkness towards the back of Mister Yue. It’s edge looks to devour any human soul it comes in contact with. And right now it is looking to devour a cloud, soul or no soul.

    Mister Yue forcefully launches himself from his seat and his table, pushing off with every ounce of strength he could muster. No cloud ever drifted as heavily or with such lumber. But Mister Yue was not concerned. He didn’t have time to be, because he was desperate! He had not avoided the blade. It was still carrying its full momentum looking to devour his very life.

    Desperation. It could ruin you, or it could be your savior. By allowing desperation to overcome all your fears, your inhibitions, sometimes, a miracle may happen. Releasing all his worries, Mister Yue pulls his left arm behind his back. He cannot turn around. Turning around means death, so he can only pull his arm behind him to fend against this sinister blade.

    Concentrating 100% of his BaiYun chi energy 擺雲真氣into his left thumb, and with one flick of this thumb, he breaks off the two-inch nail on his left pinky finger and sends it flying at the face of his assailant.

    Mister Yue can only hope that his aim is true. For it to impose any threat at all, for him to have any hope of salvation, this two inch nail must be on a course directly towards the assailant’s eye. But not having even seen the assailant, his attack is blind and must depend solely on experience. And even then, even if the course of this deadly finger nail were true, there is a good chance this attacker would be willing to forgo an eye in order to feed his blade the life of a foreboding cloud, one Mister Yue.

    A blade shatters. It’s remnants land on the wooden floor. It no longer cries to be fed. A broken sword has no right to be fed. Silence ensues. Silence always ensues after the threat of death. Mister Yue stands recomposed. His left hand, now minus its lengthy extension, brushes through his cloud speckled hair.

    The three other shadows remain. A single sword, thin as a leaf, remains protruding out of the darkness, as if to invite someone, anyone, into the emptiness that death invokes. HuiYing, LuoJian, HuoLu and RuFeng have not moved, their gaze directed at these mysterious assailants.

    A cackling laughter breaks the silence. “Impressive. I did not take you for one to be able to withstand my Wild Night Blade 狂夜刀.” These words, spoken in a raspy voice, emanates from the mouth of one whose face is so pale, and so shriveled that it looks like a grape with every ounce of juice sucked right out from it. Indeed, this ghostly face looks like it had its life juice sucked dry.

    “I had no idea your nail filing prowess had reached such a high plateau! It is beyond comparison,” snickers the ghost face. Of course, this stranger with the face of a ghost is the 4th assailant that had attacked Mister Yue from behind. His long, ungroomed, crow black hair dangles beside his ghostly face. Dressed fully in black, his long arms dangle at his side. His hands are empty, his sword broken on the ground before him.

    Raising a brow at this adversary, Mister Yue responds, “Ah, Blind Fu 瞎富, had I known it to be you I would have prepared a more deserving welcome. I’d have had this entire restaurant filled with guests ready to raise a cup to your greatness. Of course, it would be hard finding guests to attend a banquet held in the dark.”

    The ghost faced man clenches his fist, his body shakes, he screams “I AM NOT BLIND!” He launches his body at Mister Yue out of anger. His boney fingers looking to wrap themselves around the neck of Mister Yue. Fully expecting this outburst, Mister Yue easily floats out of the way of this wild pounce. His movements are now pillowy soft, as effortless as the white puffs in the sky; very much in contrast to his lumbering movements just moments ago.

    The ghost-faced assailant pushes back his anger, he knows now is not the time to allow anger and emotion to dictate his actions, for it would only kill him. But his hands still twitch, the hands of a killer are always eager to wallow in the unrivaled joy of bringing about cold death. His eyes, like that of an owl, glare widely at Mister Yue, its eerie presence inescapable.

    Only now does RuFeng notice the eyes of this ghost-faced enemy. Upon first glance it would appear that this man Mister Yue referred to as ‘Blind Fu’ had no eyes. His eyes were quite intact, but lacking color entirely, no pupils, no color, only white. So white and colorless that it blended in almost completely with the rest of his white ghostly face.

    Loss is many times a miserable thing to endure. But it may also be a blessing, a blessing to cherish what has been lost. It is quite ironic, only when it has been lost does the true value of it become valuable. To this ghost-faced man, he must preserve what eyesight he still retains; that which has not yet been lost. That is why Mister Yue still stands as he does now: alive.

    Unable to resist, but awkwardly tentative in this life and death situation, RuFeng whispers, “His eyes…his eyes are…is he…”

    “He can see, he is no bat,” whispers a reply to RuFeng’s obvious bewilderment. The voice came from the shadows. Though quiet, it seemed to resonate with a soothing melody in the ears of RuFeng. Turning to search for this voice, he realizes it came from the shadow carrying the sword, the sword that was as thin as a leaf.

    RuFeng seems mesmerized as he sits there pondering how this young man with the sword, who really, by the age of his face was really just a boy, had such an alluring voice. Of course, in his mind he thinks of this shadow as a man, and not a boy. Any boy possessing such skills with a sword can only be referred to as a man.

    But perhaps instead of contemplating this completely trivial matter, RuFeng should be expressing much gratitude to this voice he is so in awe of. He does not realize it, he may be too ignorant or inexperienced to, but this voice just saved his life.

    The ghost faced Blind Fu may be standing a good distance away. He may have his attention entirely locked onto Mister Yue. He may not even notice those 4 figures huddled around the light like frightened children. But the moment the word ‘blind’ slips from RuFeng’s lips, he would be on him like a savage beast, a rabid abomination no one can contend with until RuFeng was but an empty carcass.

    But as quickly and easily as RuFeng’s curiosity was peaked, it was just as quickly and easily disrupted, thrown out the door, over the rail and hurling down an endless chasm by six words. “Namo Amitābha南無阿彌陀佛 (*Buddhist saying apparently meaning to submit yourself to the infinite Buddha).” Six words spoken; each like a dagger prodding from within his body trying to escape.

    Six words, two voices - spoken by two men. No, they were not men, they were bald -- monks! Two monks adorned in identical Buddhist robes. The robes are colored black and lined with brilliant gold. Their two voices, spoken as one, channel their inner energy in unison. Its strength greatly magnified thusly, shakes the hearts of every person in the room.

    Under the power of this voice technique, the wielder of the thin sword as well as Mister Yue’s four disciples collapse to the ground clenching their chests. Their regular flow of energy disrupted by the two monks channeled force.

    Only Mister Yue and the ghost faced Blind Fu remain standing apparently unaffected by the black-robed monks’ attack. Actually though, both were secretly channeling their own neigong to counter that of the two monks and were just barely able to withstand their combined power. If the monks had continued reciting, neither would be able to endure for much longer.

    Fortunately, the attack was short lasted. As if only to temporarily stun their opponent rather than eliminate him/her permanently. “Lady patron,” spoke one monk. “Reside your anger. I can see the murderous intent in your eyes.”

    “It is true Lady patron,” said the other monk. “No good can come of this, to yourself or to others. Release your anger, it is for your own good.”

    “Where did these monks suddenly come from? Are they friend or foe? By the content of their speech, they seemed to be playing the role of peacekeeper. But do peacekeepers suddenly assault those they are trying to keep the peace with? What should I do? Should I do anything? Do I need to do anything?” These were the thoughts that flashed in HuoLu’s mind. Indecisive as ever, he hoped his master would soon give him some direction.

    But as HuoLu was turning to look for any sign of instruction from his master, another person caught his attention. Indeed, it was as the monks said, even he could see it. Her eyes were possessed, possessed with an unmistakable urge for murder. He saw her fingers, rigid, bloodied; clawing obsessively into the wood planks that comprised the floor of the White Flower Inn. Concerned, HuoLu called out to her, “Eldest Sister 大師姐…”

    HuiYing did not hear him. She continued to digger her fingers into the floor, the streaks in the wood left behind by her fingers were reimbursed by her blood. HuoLu called out to her again, louder this time, “Eldest Sister 大師姐, are you feeling well?” An absurd question, an idiot could see she was not right of mind.

    RuFeng also began to notice the change in his martial sister. “Eldest Sister, 大師姐! Eldest Sister大師姐!” he called out, but she did not answer him. Her murderous gaze was fixed on the shadows -- and, on a sword. A sword as thin as a leaf!

Similar Threads

  1. The Yangs' Saga 《楊家將》
    By Tom in forum TVB Series
    Replies: 16
    Last Post: 05-18-14, 10:25 AM
  2. Replies: 11
    Last Post: 01-14-08, 12:10 AM
  3. Replies: 82
    Last Post: 06-08-07, 09:57 PM
  4. Most useless weapons in wuxia?
    By Ken Cheng in forum Wuxia Fiction
    Replies: 37
    Last Post: 12-29-06, 12:28 AM

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts