Hi Everyone. I am a newcomer to this fanfiction board even though I have been writing for a long time. Hope that you would like this very odd and strange wuxia fiction.
Tu Vi
P.S. Thank you so much Gigi. It was your newest fan fiction that inspire me to continue this tale. I am eternally grateful. tu vi bows
Shadows of the Sword
The time was set in the early Ming Dynasty. The pugilist world was, as always, bound in an endless struggle for power and supremacy. Newly emerged sects such as the Heaven and Earth, Blue Robes, and Black Snakes fought for control with older sects such as the ancient Shaolin, established Mo Dang and powerful Ngow Mei. Meanwhile, other establishments hid in the shadows with their unknown agendas. What they were waiting for, no one knew. Their names were only whispers in the night. The frozen Ice Palace, the mythical White Cloud Manor, and most dangerous of all, the forbidding City of Mist.
He was a man rarely concerned with pugilistic affairs, contented to stay in his own world. But a long ago promise forced him to enter a bloody world of endless wars, sinister plots, hidden deceptions and a destiny that was far too cruel for him to endure. But endure it he must for the fate of the pugilist world hung in the balance.
Her name brought smiles to even the most jaded of men. Her silvery laugh could bring an army to their knees. Her fragrance could cleanse even the bloodiest field. One word from her could topple a kingdom, swept away palaces, and destroyed even the most influential sect. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. She was the White Fairy.
He was a man running away from his own past. Forced to choose between justice and duty, he faced the ultimate truth and realize his fate. Torn apart by his forbidden love and awesome burden, he sought to remain nameless and faceless yet it could not be for he was the final key to unlock the secret of all time.
A fierce war erupted in the mo lam world, propelling the contending sects into its deadly game. The sleeping pugilist world woke up to one of the most terrible battles that it has ever faced. Silent assassins, righteous leaders, ancient sects, hidden identities, seductive sirens and learned monks raced against time and each other to achieve the ultimate price: The Red Script. A timeless martial art book that had disappeared fifty years ago suddenly resurfaced. And whoever possessed it would have unlimited power, power to rule over the pugilist world and achieve total dominion over all.
It was the Red Script that molded and carved the destinies of the three very different people. They were forced together by circumstances, formed unlikely partnership, and in the end, one ultimately betrayed all.
Set against the magnificent backdrop of the prosperous Ming Dynasty, this is a tale of love and loss. A tale of greed and vengeance, a tale of justice and retribution, but most of all, it is a tale of hope and redemption.
CAST:
Vivian Leung
Louis Koo (Please imagine him when he was pale and princely looking)
Julian Cheung
Carmen Lee
Andy Lau
Nicky Wu
Vicky Zhao
And more to come.
Chapter 1- Brewing Storm
Julian Cheung- Tieu Phong (Little Wind)
Vicky Zhao- Dong Y Van - Tong Yee Man
The fragrance of flowers was heavy on the air as spring descended upon the heavenly city of Hangzhou. The road that wound its way along West Lake was lined with blooming cherry blossoms. Their soft petals scattered and fell under the muttering wind in a mist of fragrant rain. Dreamy poets walked under its soft wing in a daze, muttering quotes. A few birds chirped cheerfully. And in a pavilion set not far from the lake, a handsome man in his mid twenties dressed in a rich, expensive blue robe were in intent conversation with an older man with the air of a businessman
“I assure you, honorable Lu. This poem is indeed written by the great poet Du Mu of the late Tang Dynasty. Look at the exquisite line, the beautiful and yet proud curve of the characters.” The younger man said.
“Yes, but a thousands taels?” The merchant said dubiously.
“A thousand tael is nothing, kind sir. Imagine, ten years from now, the price for this poem will at least triple and you would have gain twice the profit. It is because you are a dear friend of mine that I am selling this to you.” The other man said persuasively.
“All right.” The merchant nodded and reached inside his pocket, failing to see the glimmer of greed in the younger man’s clear, brown eyes.
“You dog, I finally found you.” A loud scream was heard as five men descended upon the pavilion. Their eyes were spitting fire as they stared at the man.
The man’s face paled for one split second and he laughed almost nervously. “Oh, my dear friends, you can’t tell how glad I am that you are here.”
“Save your lie for someone else.” A large, burly man said contemptuously. He then turned to the shock looking merchant, “Sir, do you who this man is?”
The merchant shook his head, “He told me that he is a scholar from a very distinguish line but his family has been in decline for these past few years and he is forced to sell his father’s precious treasures.”
“A scholar??” The five men burst into guffaw. “A scholar? That is a new name for the Rodent. He is a man who is willing to sell his mother just for a mere twenty taels. He is a liar, a thief, and an absolute scoundrel. There is nothing that he won’t do for money. The entire mo lam world holds him in absolute contempt.”
“Is this true?” The merchant demanded as he looked at the so reputed Rodent.
“Of course not, Honorable Lu. I am a perfectly legitimate businessman. These people just want to ruin my reputation.” The man said defensively. “Who know? Maybe they want the poem for themselves and don’t want to pay the price.”
The merchant held the poem protectively as he turned and faced the other men.
“For Heaven’s sake, don’t listen to him.” The burly man said and reached out for the poem. “Here, I will show you.”
“No!” The merchant shrank back and screamed, attracting the attention of everyone who was in the vicinity. Curious people gathered and formed a circle. Using the opportunity, the Rodent reached out and neatly nipped the merchant’s thick purse. He silently blended into the crowd and disappeared from view.
“Well, Tieu Phong, you didn’t do too bad.” The Rodent (Julian Cheung) said cheerfully as he stared at the thick banknotes. He was sitting on a large stone in a forest clearing. Trees surrounded him and the scent of moss and grass was heavy. “Hmm, with this much money, I can probably last a month. Those idiotic men, do they really think that they can catch me?” He chuckled with delight. But his eyes narrowed when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He dove into a nearby bush.
“Senior brother, what do you want?” A voice demanded impatiently.
Peeking out, Tieu Phong (Julian Cheung) saw two men dressed in Taoist clothes. They were both in their mid-forties.
“Fourth brother, don’t think that I didn’t hear you sneaking in the night before?” The older looking man said.
“What are you talking about?” The second Taoist asked but his face paled.
“You were listening in on sifu and martial art uncles’ conversation. I know because I saw you hiding behind the oak tree wearing night clothes.”
“How did you know?” The younger Taoist squeaked out. At the last moment, he shut his mouth but it was already too late.
“You know that listening in on sifu’s conversation has a terrible price. You might even be expel from the sect.”
“You don’t have any evidence.”
“Oh, don’t I?” The senior Taoist pulled out a glinting piece of metal. “I found this last night. And if I tell sifu, he would listen to me. After all, I am the senior disciple and I also have the evidence of your betrayal.”
“I did not betray sifu.” The other Taoist said angrily.
“I know. But sifu doesn’t know that.”
“What do you want?”
“The same thing that you want.” The senior Taoist leaned forward and whispered into the other man’s ear. The younger Taoist’s face turned deadly pale and his hands trembled. He finally nodded.
“Good, I know that you would see it my way.” The senior Taoist said. He smiled and put his hand comfortably around the other man’s shoulder. Only a martial art expert could see that his finger was pressing on his younger martial art brother’s most deadly pressure point.
Recognizing the danger, the younger Taoist meekly followed his brother. They left and the forest became silent once more.
Tieu Phong emerged from the bush. He frowned when he saw that his once fine clothes were stained with dust.
A thin, heart shattering scream suddenly rose. Birds squawked and flew up into the sky. Tieu Phong hesitated for a split second then he moved forward in a dead run. He neatly concealed himself in the shadows of the trees as he ran. Soon, he reached another clearing where a body lied lifelessly. Even from the distance, he could see that it was the younger Taoist. His dead eyes were wide open with horror. A sense of danger pulsed and danced around the clearing. Always a cautious man, Tieu Phong hid behind a large tree, watching. The senior Taoist was nowhere in sight.
A thick blanket of silence descended.
About five minutes later, the sound of a horse approaching was heard. A blazing white, magnificent horse appeared from the trees. Its rider was also dressed completely in white, creating an almost surreal painting, as opposed to the scene of death that lied not so far away.
The horse and its rider came closer. And Tieu Phong finally saw the rider’s face. At the same time, the rider also saw the body. He frowned slightly and jumped smoothly down. He patted his horse’s restless head and muttered a few words of reassurance, as the animal smelled the scent of death.
He (Louis Koo) crouched down next to the body and picked up the seemingly boneless hand.
“The Crush of Death.” He muttered softly.
Behind the trees, Tieu Phong’s eyes widened. The Crush of Death was a cruel kungfu that destroyed its enemy’s inner organs, shattering all the blood veins, and yet leaving no trace of its presence on the outside. This kungfu could only be practice by someone who has an extremely high level of internal energy because it required almost inhuman strength and inner power. That’s why not so many people practiced it. And it had become extinct some twenty years ago when the abbot of Wu Dang killed its last practitioner, the Scorpion. Or so the mo lam world thought.
His thought was disrupted as four Taoist burst into the clearing, led by the senior Taoist that he has seen but a few minutes ago.
“Fourth brother.” Three of the Taoists screamed and lunged forward.
“Fourth student.” The oldest Taoist with a silvery beard and lined face said sadly. All of them stared at the white figure who slowly rose.
“What did my brother ever do to you?” The senior Taoist asked with a shaking voice. “Why must you kill him?”
Tieu Phong smiled scornfully. Ah, the mo lam was the same as always, the guilty blaming the innocent, the strong blaming the weak. He settled down, ready to enjoy the scene before him.
“Reverend, I have never seen your brother before. And I did not kill him.” The white figure said in a polite, calm voice, showing no anger at an unfair accusation.
“Then who killed him? The ghost of the forest?” Another Taoist asked. “You are the only one here.”
“But I am not the killer.” The white figure continued in the same tone of voice.
The old Taoist held out a hand to stop his students’ words. He stared at the white figure,
“Are you the Scorpion’s student?”
“No, I’m afraid not, Reverend.”
“Then there is only one way to find out.” The Taoist shot forward. His hand moved in a strangely gentle way, slashing at the white figure’s throat. The white figure’s toes pushed on the ground and he effortlessly backed away seven steps, neatly dodging the Taoist’s attacks. His movement was so fast that everyone only saw a blur of white and then he was already out of range.
“The Dancing Phoenix.” The Taoist cried out in surprise. “You are from the White Cloud Manor.”
His words reverberated in space, shocking everyone. White Cloud Manor was a mythical sect, situated in the high, snowy covered peak of Mt. Song. It had very few students and yet those students that it produced possessed almost unbeatable kungfu. Their trademark moves was the Dancing Phoenix and the Nine Dragons Palm. But for these past thirty years, the sect had seemed to disappear completely. And their reputation became nothing more than a myth in the pugilist world.
“You are very well learned, Reverend.” The white figure said politely.
“Thirty five years ago, I have had the honor of seeing the White Cloud Manor’s dueled with my grand teacher. It was a fight that I would never forget.” The Taoist’s voice has become almost respectful. “If you are the White Cloud Manor’s student, then I believe you when you said that you did not kill my disciple. Please forgive us for the misunderstanding.”
“It’s perfectly all right.” The white figure smiled. “Please accept my sincerest condolence.”
“Thank you.”
The white figure walked toward his horse and jumped on fluidly. He gestured politely to the Taoists in farewell and then nudged his horse forward. As he went past Tieu Phong’s hiding place, he nodded slightly in greeting. And then he was gone.
Tieu Phong stared after his disappearing back.
“Sifu, are you sure that he didn’t kill fourth brother?” The senior Taoist asked.
“I am sure. The White Cloud Manor would never lie.” The older man replied crisply. He looked at his dead student with sorrow in his eyes. “Bring him. We would give him a proper burial.”
“Yes, sifu.” In a few moments, a litter was created and the body was carried away.
After about ten more minutes of waiting, to make sure that no one would come back, Tieu Phong walked hesitantly out into the clearing. He stopped when he saw a trickle of blood on the ground. He bent down and touched it with his finger. Hmm, interesting, the killer didn’t possess enough energy to just shatter the internal organs without breaking the skin. That’s why there was blood. There should be none when an expert was doing the Crush of Death.
“Tieu Phong, you scoundrel, where have you been?” A feminine, seductive voice demanded as Tieu Phong stepped inside the lavish, decadent outer room of the Lotus Palace. Women dressed in the barest of silk giggled and fluttered their lashes at intoxicated men. The golden tables that scattered around the large room were filled with people.
Tieu Phong smiled down at the small, yet perfectly feminine woman who has stuck to his side like glue the minute he stepped in, “Y Van, my heart.”
“My heart?” Y Van (Vicky Zhao) sniffed delicately. “Stop using your sugary words, you still own me money no matter what.”
Tieu Phong sighed a bit dramatically, “Don’t you trust me?”
“Ha, the day that I trust you would be the day that pigs knows how to fly.”
“You don’t know how much your words have wounded my heart.” Tieu Phong sighed again as he walked up the stairs, separating the two floors.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Money?” Y Van held out her hand.
Biting back another sigh, Tieu Phong put his hard earned money in her hand. “There, two hundreds taels. That should cover my debt.”
“Ah, haven’t you forgotten about something?” Y Van’s hand closed protectively around the bank notes.
“What?”
“Interest. With my calculation, you still owe me one hundred taels.”
“One hundred?” Tieu Phong’s eyes budged and nearly popped out of their sockets. “That’s murder. Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?”
“But if I kill you, who is going to pay?” Y Van patted Tieu Phong’s cheek and walked to her room. She hadn’t taken two steps when a loud argument is heard down stairs. Curious, she walked toward the railing and looked down.
“Where is Tieu Phong?” A large, burly man demanded as he turned over a table. Prostitutes creamed and cowered in the corners while the customers fled the room.
“Please, kind sir.” A skinny, old woman writhed her hands desperately. “Please stop destroying my property. I haven’t done anything.”
“You haven’t but Tieu Phong has. Now, where is he?”
The mother’s shrew eyes stared at his enraged face and calculating her loss, she pointed upstairs.
Tieu Phong swore under his breath and ran toward the other end of the hallway. Hearing shouts behind him, he didn’t dare to turn around. Seeing the window, he crashed right through it and fell two floors down. Pain radiated through his body but he gritted his teeth and limped away, knowing that his life hung on the balance. He bumped through the crowd, ignoring shouts and screams. Seeing the merchant that he had just stolen from this morning standing in the middle of the street with large men surrounding him, Tieu Phong grimaced and ducked into an inn. He walked casually up the stairs as if he was a customer. Just as he escaped from everyone’s view, he tried the doors to his right and left. But to his frustration, all of them were locked. Desperate, he tried the last door and praying silently to heaven. And to his relief, the door opened easily. He slipped in and closed the door after him. He leaned against the frame and breathed deeply.
“May I help you?” A masculine, calm voice asked.
Startled, Tieu Phong spun around and saw the white figure sitting at the table, calmly sipping his tea.
Chapter 2- City of Mist
Louis Koo- Kim Bat Pham
Julian Cheung- Tieu Phong (Little Wind)
Vicky Zhao- Dong Y Van - Tong Yee Man
“I..” Tieu Phong stared at the man before him. He winced when he heard the loud pounding of footsteps in the hallway.
“Please have a seat.” The white figure gestured politely.
“Ahh, thank you.” Lost for words, Tieu Phong sat down across from him.
“Tea?” The man asked calmly. It was as if it is a daily occurrence for some stranger to crash into his room.
“Thank you.” Tieu Phong accepted the hot, steaming cup with steady hands.
“We still haven’t been properly introduced yet. I am Kim Bat Pham.” Bat Pham (Louis Koo) gestured.
“Tieu Phong.” Tieu Phong replied just as the door crashed open.
“Do you really think you can escape us?” A voice demanded.
Tieu Phong looked up and saw the burly man who he had stolen from two weeks ago and Merchant Lu, his victim of this morning. He sighed when he saw six muscled men flexing their arms behind them. It seemed like it was inevitable for him to get a beating. Oh, well. He shrugged philosophically and stood up.
“I don’t want to stain this gentleman’s room. So do you want to take this outside?”
“Let’s go then.” The burly man said gruffly.
“Oh, Reverent, what are you doing here?” Tieu Phong’s eyes suddenly widened and his voice was respectful.
Surprised, all the men spun around.
Using the opportunity, Tieu Phong ran toward the window and for the second time in a day, fell through it. But at least, this time the window was open. He comforted himself with that thought as air whooshed past him. He grunted as he landed on the hard ground and ignoring all the startled faces of the vendors and customers, he wove his way through the crowded street, running for his life.
Meanwhile, up at the inn, the burly looked down at the disappearing figure of Tieu Phong and knew that there was no way that he could catch him. The damnable Rodent was like a snake, slithering away and holed up at the slightest sound of danger. He turned and stared at the man who the Rodent has been conversing with. This man, dressed impeccably in a pure white robe, with his eyes calm and patient didn’t seem like the Rodent’s usual acquaintant.
“I want to know where the Rodent has gone off to and I want to know now.” He demanded.
“I’m sorry but I have no idea.” Bat Pham continued to sip his tea.
“Don’t know or don’t want to tell.”
“You can take it any way you wish.” Bat Pham said politely.
“Let’s see if you can still talk like that after this.” The man gestured for his followers to move forward.
They charged and screamed with their fists raised.
Bat Pham didn’t even change his position as he moved his right hand slightly, neatly blocking an incoming fist. His fingers flickered and hit the man directly on his pressure points. He stood there frozen.
Bat Pham’s white boot kicked out and hit another man’s kneecap. He crumbled down in pain. Just as the other four men moved in simultaneously, Bat Pham blew gently into his tea and four drops rose into the air, as if propelled by an invisible hand. With another almost negligent flick, the drops of tea shot forward and hit the men in their chests.
They stumbled back as pain radiated through their bodies. Just one harmless drop of water and they felt like they were encased in fire and ice. But only for a split second because Bat Pham’s hand moved for the second time and withdrew the water from their bodies. They staggered and stared at Bat Pham in gratitude, knowing that he has saved them from intolerable pain.
“Who are you?” The burly man asked in a shaky voice.
Bat Pham only smiled, “Please close the door after you leave. Thank you.” Then he turned his attention back to the cup of tea. And almost in an after thought, he released the frozen man by his side, “My apology, I forgot.”
After a long moment, the burly leader shook his head and left, followed by his men.
“The mo lam world.” Bat Pham muttered to himself. And at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to retreat back to his White Cloud Manor, living in absolute solitude and peace with only the blooming flowers as company. But he has make a promise long ago and he would keep it, no matter what.
He bit back a sigh when he heard footsteps outside and the door slammed open for the third time. He just wanted to drink his tea in peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask for? He asked the sky silently.
“Where is Tieu Phong?” A feminine voice demanded.
Bat Pham looked toward the door and saw a slender, very pretty woman with rosy pale skin and a pair of captivating, beautiful eyes that could capture any man’s heart. And those eyes were now splitting out fire. He rose politely and nodded,
“Guleung.”
Y Van pursed her lips and looked at the outrageously handsome man in front of her. Her anger was momentarily forgotten. In her line of work, she has seen quite a lot of men but none has possessed such an air of. She didn’t know how to put it into words but there was something radiating from this man, something unstained and pure. He was like a fresh breath of air, blowing into a bloody and stained world. She suddenly got an urge to check her face, and wondering whether or not she was dressed too skimpy or was her dress showing too much skin?
“Guleung? Is there anything that I can do for you?” The man asked her patiently. He was looking at her in a way that no other men had looked at her before. All the other men had leered at her with greedy, hungry eyes. No, she was wrong. There was also another man, Tieu Phong. Tieu Phong has always looked at her with mischievous, laughing eyes but he had never leered at her in any inappropriate way. Maybe that was why he has become the only friend that she had in the Lotus Palace. And no matter what, she owed Tieu Phong nearly a year of close friendship to find out what has happened to him. And if she can, tried to rescue him. That’s why she has followed Merchant Lu’s men from the Lotus Palace to this inn.
“Where is Tieu Phong?” Y Van asked again.
Bat Pham remained standing as he answered her, “He left a few minutes ago.”
“Was he hurt?” Y Van asked worriedly.
“No, he was fine. He managed to escape all those men.” Bat Pham said with a slight smile.
Relief burst through Y Van. She sagged against the doorway.
“Guleung, are you all right?” Somewhat alarmed, Bat Pham asked.
“Yes, I am fine. Thank you, guong gee (young gentleman).” Y Van turned and promptly bumped into a group of four men walking in the hallway. One of them reached out and steadied her. Mumbling a thank you, Y Van was about to walk away when he grabbed her again.
“What are you doing?” Y Van demanded. All the men were fairy young from their early twenties to their thirties. They were richly dressed with the symbol of the sun and the moon imprinted on their fur hats.
“Hey, aren’t you the singer from the Lotus Palace?” A man asked, his eyes traveling slowly up and down her body.
“So?” Y Van tried to yank her hand out of his iron grip but couldn’t.
“So we are in need of entertainment today. Why don’t you go to our room and sing a few songs for us.” All the other men guffawed at the man’s words. His intention was already clear. He wanted more than just a few songs.
“I believe that it is impolite to hold a lady against her will.” Bat Pham said mildly as he reached out and with a twist of his wrist, hitting the man on his pressure point, forcing him to release Y Van.
“Who are you?” The man asked scornfully as he took a step forward. But his threatening posture disappeared as he stared at something behind Y Van and Bat Pham. His skin turned into a pasty pallor and his knees shook. And all of his friends’ reactions were the same. Their eyes budged with horror and fear.
Curious, Bat Pham and Y Van turned around. And suddenly the hallway was covered in darkness. It was as if the cloud has blocked out the sun.
They saw two masked men dressed completely in black with a black hand on their chest. They didn’t move or twitch but instead stood still, like two frozen statues.
Y Van could feel her hair raised and she instinctively scooted closer to Bat Pham. Goosebumps ran up her back and suddenly her bones were very cold.
Behind them, the men with the fur hats moved backward and as they reached the stairs, they run down like the devils were chasing them.
Then, the two masked figures moved forward. They didn’t exactly walk like normal humans; instead they glided on the air. They brushed past Bat Pham and Y Van and the sharp presence of death and destruction nearly buckled Y Van if it wasn’t for Bat Pham. He stood before her, blocking most of the deadly presence away.
The masked men reached the end of the hallway and they turned at the corner. Then they were gone.
Y Van let out an explosive breath. And with shock, she realized that she was shaking violently.
Seeing her pale face, Bat Pham reached out and with his hand five inches away from her back, he transferred his internal energy to her.
Feeling warmth flooding her back, Y Van breathed deeply and after a long minute, she stopped shaking.
“What happened?” She whispered.
“The City of Mist.” Bat Pham answered. His eyes were troubled as he looked at where the masked men have disappeared. “It seemed like their reputations were true after all.”
“The City of Mist.” Y Van gasped. Because she was a singer at the Lotus Palace, she has heard a lot of tales brought by men from the mo lam world. And among those tales, The City of Mist preceded them all in horror and power. It was a vast empire of assassins, controlled by the man whom the mo lam world known as the Black Hand. The assassins were capable of killing anyone for the right amount of money. A few months ago, the mo lam world shook with the news that the much-respected student of the Abbot of Shaolin was killed by the City of Mist. His body was found with an almost unnoticeable slash to his throat. There was a minimal amount of blood. And a black hand was imprinted on his chest. She trembled when she realized that death has just brushed her.
A masked man dressed completely in black entered a simple room, almost spartan in its decoration. There was nothing in it beside a blue veil at the end of the room. The only window was half open, allowing the cool wind to enter.
“Master.” The man kneeled down respectfully.
The veil moved slightly due to the wind. Behind it, an unblemished, jade white hand with a black ring on its index finger moved, petting the pure, white cat sitting contently on the figure’s lap.
“Report.” The voice said, its tone was curiously empty of all inflections. It was neither warm nor cold, soft or hard, light or heavy, feminine nor masculine. It was just simply there, a voice free of all emotions but it couldn’t be call emotionless because there was simply nothing.
“Master, Wu Dang has sent its second most powerful man. It is rumored that the abbot will come in a few days. Shaolin sent eighteen monks led by the Keeper of The Hall of Books. Ngow Mei’s leader also personally came. As for the other sects, Heaven and Earth, Blue Robes, Back Snakes were all there. It is said that even the Ice Palace will come.”
“What about the White Cloud Manor?” The hand moved idly over the cat’s head as the feline purred loudly.
“Master, we haven’t received any information from there yet.”
“Continue to observe and do not interfere unless the script surfaces. If it does, use any means to obtain it.”
“Yes, Master.” The figure bowed and withdrew.
This chapter is inspired by the one and only Nicky Wu. I was doing my math homework when I saw his pictures from Sword Girl again. OMG, he was so cute. Tu Vi swooning. Please excuse me while I drool for a minute. Grin.
Chapter 3- Invitations
Kim Bat Pham- Louis Koo
Tieu Phong- Julian Cheung
Ho Thanh Son- Eddie Cheung
Tieu Phong sat down at the small table with no small amount of relief. He has managed to lose all those men nearly three hours ago. And now his throat was parch dry, his stomach screaming for food, and his feet were aching. No matter what, he would sit down and eat something even though it could kill him.
“Uh, sir?” The waiter asked hesitantly as his eyes ran over Tieu Phong’s ragged clothes.
“Give me whatever specialties you have for today and one jug of your best wine.” He said to the waiter as he put a small, silver nugget on the table.
“Yes, sir. Please wait one second.”
After the waiter left, Tieu Phong idly glanced around. His eyes narrowed when he saw that the nearly full restaurant was filled with pugilists. There, in the corner were four beggars with at least seven pockets on their ragged clothes. That meant they are at least Captains of the Divisions. And not far away from the Beggar Sect were the four Taoists that he had seen earlier. Their faces were somber, and their hands rested near their swords. That was strange for the Beggar Sect and Wu Dang had always been friendly toward each other. Aside from the two major sects, there were at least twenty wandering pugilists. They sat apart from each other with occasional wary glances. And half of those men possessed high kungfu for their temples budged out which shown that their internal energies were cultivated to the highest point.
Lost in thought, Tieu Phong jerked as the waiter put his food down.
“Thank you.” He muttered and immediately opened the jug of wine. A heady aroma drifted out. Although this wine was not of superior standard but it could quench his thirst. He hurriedly took a deep gulp without bothering to pour it into a cup.
“Sifu, are we staying here?” A feminine, soft voice asked with mild distaste.
Tieu Phong looked up and saw a group of women and nuns standing at the doorway. There were two women dressed in regular clothes and six nuns. And it was one of the women who have spoken. She was rather pretty, he thought as his eyes assessed her, with large eyes, pale skin and a very stubborn mouth. At that moment, she turned and looked at him directly. Her gaze was unflinching as she looked at him with dislike. He knew it was because he was still dressed in that blue robe, dirty by this morning’s encounter with the forest mud, torn by his jumps down from the Lotus Palace and the Inn and his face wasn’t helping much as it was streaked by sweat and dirt. He shrugged mentally and ignored her.
“Yes, Khiet Lan (Ada Choi).” The head nun with silvery hair sat down at the last available table, followed by her students. She didn’t even glance at the Wu Dang people.
That was even stranger. Tieu Phong thought. The bond between Mo Dang and Ngow Mei has been unbreakable since the beginning of the Ming Dynasty. Mo Dang’s founder, Truong Tam Phong, was a close friend of Ngow Mei’s founder, Quach Tuong. Because of that close friendship, the two sects’ students have even married each other. And now, they met and no word was exchange between them. Hmm, something odd was definitely going on.
“I’m sorry, Young Master. Our restaurant is full.” The waiter’s apologetic voice jerked Tieu Phong out of his reverie. He glanced over curiously and saw a slender man, in his early twenties, standing outside the door. He was richly dressed in a yellow robe and an air of elegance radiated from him. Another potential victim, Tieu Phong thought with glee as he called out loudly,
“Young Master, if you don’t mind. You can sit here.”
The young man entered the restaurant and nodded as he approached Tieu Phong.
“Thank you, sir.” His voice was unusually soft and melodic.
“It’s ok. We, pugilists, have to help one another, right?” Tieu Phong smiled as the man sat down across from him. His eyes widened when he saw that the man was remarkable handsome in a strange way. His skin was flawless, tinged by a faint blush. And his dark eyes were magnetic and very soulful. Tieu Phong was sure that if he were a woman, he would have swoon.
“Pugilists?” A soft snicker sounded from the Ngow Mei table. Tieu Phong glanced over and saw one of the two women laughing. It wasn’t Khiet Lan but a younger, mischievous looking girl. “Older martial art sister, if that man is a pugilist, I would eat my own dirt.” She continued.
“An Nhien (Joyce Tang).” The head nun with blazing white brows admonished. “Do not talk in such a tone.”
“Yes, sifu.” An Nhien subsided but her eyes were still sparkling.
“Young Master, you have a very impressive grip over your temper.” The man told Tieu Phong.
“I don’t understand.” Tieu Phong confessed.
“That woman just insulted you and yet you show no trace of anger. To me, that is, indeed, extraordinary self-control.”
“I am but a beggar who possesses nothing. What right do I have to be angry?” Tieu Phong replied with a smile.
“Ahh, but sometimes appearance is very deceptive.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Tieu Phong’s eyes remained on the man’s face as he smiled mysteriously.
The man shown no outer emotion but his skin took on a pinkish hue. It was as if he was blushing.
“I still don’t know your name. Mine is Tieu Phong.” Remembering, Tieu Phong introduced himself.
“Nam Cung Hong.” The other man gestured.
At that moment, a loud commotion sounded from the door. Everyone turned and saw an elaborate carriage, drawn by four magnificent black horses.
“Sir, we are sorry but we are out of room.” The restaurant owner said, wringing his hands.
“Move.” One of the men pushed him aside roughly. They were all dressed in gray robes with the symbols of the moon and sun on their fur hats. Two of them entered the inn and with one deadly glare at the occupants, the pugilists who had came either by themselves or with a partner and didn’t possessed the high temples, stood up and scurried out.
“Master.” The men bowed and ten other men ran in, forming two lines. And then the carriage door opened and a regal figure stepped out. He was perhaps in his late forties (Eddie Cheung) with a coldly handsome face and shrewd eyes. He went past the line and sat down on one of the chairs, already pulled out and wiped with a white cloth by one of his men. After he sat down and arranging his robe, he turned and smiled at the Wu Dang’s leader.
“Reverent Vo Nghi, it is a pleasure to see you here. Where is your older martial art brother by the way?” His voice was deep and pleasantly warm.
“Leader Ho, my regards to you.” Reverent Vo Nghi bowed slightly. “My brother, unfortunately cannot make it today. If he knows that you will be here, I am sure that he would make every effort to be able to meet with you.”
“As always, you are too kind. I am not worthy of such greeting.” Ho Thanh Son (Eddie Cheung) other known as the Man with a Thousand Hands said silkily.
He then turned to the stony face nun, “Respected Bach Mi (white brow) su thai, I am humble by your presence here today.”
“Save your fancy talk for someone else, Ho Thanh Son, I am not interested.” Bach Mi said tensely.
“As you wish.” Thanh Son nodded but his eyes hardened. He looked around the inn.
“Gentlemen, brothers of the pugilist world, I am sure that we all know why we are here today. But to be fair, I must warn you that whoever oppose the Heaven and Earth ’s objective would be like this.” He touched his cup of wine gently. At first, nothing happened. But a whiff of cool wind suddenly blew in through the window and the cup broke into ten even pieces.
Gasps and mutters rose. Some pugilists looked at each other then they stood up and left.
Some of the younger nuns and Taoist looked confused, as they did not understand what had happened. But their sifus’ faces were grim because they had seen that the Leader of the Heaven and Earth’s internal energy had increased ten folds since they last saw him. He was infamous for his deadly palms and grips. And now, his internal power has increased to the level that his hand has become a sharp, almost invincible sword.
“Show off.” A low mutter sounded from the corner and echoed like thunder.
“Who would dare to speak against our Master?” All the Heaven and Earth men screamed as Thanh Son’s civilized smile slipped. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked toward the direction where the scornful voice had came from.
Tieu Phong resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands as every eye in the room pinned him down. He glared at Nam Cung Hong, the culprit.
Seeing Tieu Phong’s pale face, Thanh Son dismissed him and looked at the other man.
“Young Master, if you don’t like my skill, perhaps you would be so kind as to show what you are capable of.”
“If you wish.” Nam Cung Hong remained seated as he took Tieu Phong’s cup of wine. But then he frowned and put it down again.
“No, I can’t do that. He would know.” He muttered so softly that only Tieu Phong could hear him. “Drat.” But then his face brightened and he rose slowly.
“Well, Ho Thanh Son, let me show you what I am made of.” He flew forward and his hands blurred into thousands of palms, heading toward the Leader of the Heaven and Earth.
“Palms of Mercy.” Thanh Son said with some surprise as he neatly dodged the incoming palms. His hand curled, twisted, aiming at Cung Hong’s vulnerable points on his wrist. “You are from Shaolin.” He continued while his hand flew and moved with deceptive grace.
“Let’s see if you can guess this.” Nam Cung Hong smiled as he suddenly changed his style, from one of hand-to-hand combat, to a battle of flying skill. His feet moved rapidly and he sidestepped all of Thanh Son’s attacks just by moving in intricate steps. His shoes barely touched the ground and he seemed to float.
“The Dancing Phoenix.” Thanh Son chased after him with some difficulty as his hand writhed and turned, cut and flicked, all directly aimed at Nam Cung Hong. “The White Cloud Manor.”
“Very good.” Cung Hong smiled and then he changed his style once more. And the fight went on as Thanh Son named one kind of martial art, and Cung Hong immediately moved to a different style. A hundred moves went by and there was no sight of Cung Hong exhausting his seemingly endless well of martial art knowledge.
At last, frustrated and embarrassed of being on par with an unknown youngster, Thanh Son yelled loudly as his hands moved with lightning speed, energy rolled out of them endlessly.
Cung Hong’s face paled, as he knew that the Leader of Heaven and Earth’s internal energy was much greater than his own. He flipped back. His feet danced and fluttered above the ground as he retreated. But at last, he reached the doorway and there was nowhere else for him to run.
Smiling triumphantly, Thanh Son shot forward and a sharp explosion was heard as blazing energy shot out of his palms.
With his back to the door, Cung Hong watched the incoming palm and then his hands raised and met Thanh Son’s power directly on. He grunted as the superior power pushed him back step by step. Sweats ran down his face and his arms shook.
But at that exact moment, a white figure stepped inside the restaurant and seeing Cung Hong’s figure flying toward him, he raised his hand and put his index finger on Cung Hong’s vital point on his back.
A warm, powerful surge of energy surged through Cung Hong’s body and he pushed forward.
Thanh Son’s feet were imprinted on the ground as he met the strange, foreign power. He grunted as he increased his energy and nearly staggered backward when the power suddenly lessened and then faded into nothingness. He hastily pulled back his hands, fearing another confrontation.
“Thank you.” Relief, Cung Hong turned around and smiled in gratitude. His entire face lit up and there was something so luminous about him that it made his rescuer blinked.
“Brother Bat Pham.” Tieu Phong called out from the corner.
“Tieu Phong.” Bat Pham nodded in greeting.
“Who are you?” Thanh Son demanded as Bat Pham walked toward Tieu Phong.
“My name is Kim Bat Pham.” Bat Pham gestured.
“He is from the White Cloud Manor.” Vo Nghi of Mo Dang spoke for the first time.
Thanh Son blinked in surprise but then he quickly gained back his control. “Even the mythical White Cloud Manor is interested?”
Bat Pham was about to answer when the two men dressed in servant’s clothes walked in.
“Reverent Vo Nghi of Mo Dang, Beggar Clan, Respected Bach Mi (White Brow) su thai, Leader Ho Thanh Son of Heaven and Earth and fellow pugilists, my Master awaits for you at the Cherry Blossoms Manor.” One of the servants said respectfully. “But due to the limited space, my Master could only invited two people from each sects.” He pulled out a metal medallion with a tree in the middle and handed one to each leader. “Please bring this with you tomorrow morning.” He then turned and looked at the remaining swordsman.
“Kim Bat Pham of White Cloud Manor.” He handed Bat Pham a medallion.
Seeing Nam Cung Hong’s expectant face, he apologized, “I’m sorry, Young Master. You are not of any major sects and your name wasn’t on the list.”
Cung Hong silently pulled out a medal with a writhing black snake on both sides.
The servant’s face brightened, “Please forgive me, you are from the Black Snakes. There is a reserved space for you.” He gave Cung Hong another medallion.
After passing out all the invitations, the two servants bowed and then left.
Silence fell as every pugilist tensed and prepared for the storm ahead. A storm that would destroy age-old sects, unearthed untold secrets and shook the mo lam world with its untamed power.
<font size="1">[ January 14, 2003: Message edited by: Tu Vi ]</font>