The Sorceress' Revolt
Author: Toriumi Jinzō
Translator: Ainikki the Archivist
Ko Biji's Story
Part Seven: The Pewter Staff
Mt. Song was the name of a mountain range to the southeast of Luoyang in Henan Province. Folk belief claimed that Mt. Song was comprised of seventy-two peaks. This was a mystical figure taken from Buddhist cosmology. In Buddhist ancient myth, there were exactly thirty-six eastern peaks and exactly thirty-six western peaks, one set of yin and one set of yang, which canceled each other out at the temple built in the middle of them. The numbers were not based on actual counting.
Math aside, Mt. Song was a scenic mountain range littered with ancient temples and shrines. It had long been a place of worship for everyone from the Chinese Emperor to the lowest peasant.
Ri Chū and several disciples from Kei Kai’s temple disguised themselves as pilgrims and escorted Tanshi to the foot of Mt. Song. They were stopped at several checkpoints along the way, but were never suspected of anything or detained. Ri Chū and his men were used to deceiving people. When they ran into trouble, Ri Chū tried persuasion—which he was good at—or bribery, if persuasion failed.
Tanshi continued climbing the mountain, heading west. The Shaolin Temple was located at the peak of a mountain slightly west of where he was. The temple was founded in 496 CE by Emperor Xiaowen, the sixth emperor of the Northern Wei Dynasty (386-534 CE). The temple was established on behalf of the Indian monk Bátuó.1 Later, the Indian monk Bodhidharma2 meditated there for nine years, becoming the founder of Zen Buddhism. It was Bodhidharma who introduced sitting meditation to China.
***
Tanshi passed through the pine forest and came out in front of the temple gate. Two young monks stood there silently. They wore the white robes of warrior monks, and Tanshi could sense a stern and disciplined aura coming from them, doubtless from their training.
“Please allow me entry,” Tanshi said, bowing to the two monks.
“And who are you?”
“My name is Tanshi.” He bowed his head politely. “I’ve come to meet Tenryū Sōjō.”
The warrior monks looked suspiciously at Tanshi, who was dressed as a wandering Buddhist monk and holding a pewter staff. The warrior monks exchanged glances, then glared at Tanshi. “And why do you wish to meet Tenryū Sōjō?”
“I was given a letter of introduction by Kei Kai, the head priest of Guangming Temple,” he said.
The attitude of the two warrior monks suddenly changed, becoming polite.
“Oh, from head priest Kei Kai? Then be welcome here.”
Tanshi handed over the letter he had received from Kei Kai.
“Please wait for a moment,” one of the warrior monks said. “This shouldn’t take long.”
The two monks ran through the temple gate. It was surprising to Tanshi that Kei Kai’s reputation preceded him, even here. The temple grounds were quiet and peaceful all around him as he waited for the monks to return. He felt a serene and spiritual energy in the air.
Shaolin kung fu was one of the earliest forms of Chinese martial arts. Legend had it that Shaolin kung fu was invented by Bodhidharma, but there were also other theories that it was started by ordinary temple monks because they were not getting enough exercise from practicing sitting meditation, or because there were many man-eating tigers in the area that they needed to fight off.
In any case, a group of warrior monks from the Shaolin Temple assisted Emperor Taizong of Tang (reigned 626 - 649 CE), and from then on, the temple was under the protection of the dynasty. Martial arts flourished at the temple. Emperor Taizong gave permission for monks who performed martial arts to consume alcohol, meat, and spicy vegetables, because they were nutritious. The five spicy main ingredients in China at the time were chives, garlic, onions, ginger, and lotus leaves.
Tanshi grimaced as he remembered this. He’d eaten porridge made with chives in Chō Kin’s home. The elderly couple must have known that chives were a forbidden food for most monks, but they’d served the porridge to him anyway because it was nutritious food and all they had. Chō Kin was the one who’d put him on the path to Yunmeng Mountain and the Heavenly Book. If Tanshi had never met Chō Kin and his wife, his life would be completely different now.
Feeling as if fate had turned against him somehow, Tanshi stood in front of the Shaolin Temple and hoped for a better future. There was still no word of Ko Biji’s whereabouts, and the long separation was fraying his nerves.
If only Tanshi had listened to Ko Biji from the start—if only he’d given up on deciphering the Heavenly Book. He could have gone with her anywhere, and they would have been safe. Sei Koko would not have plunged them all into such misfortune.
Tanshi was tormented by feelings of guilt. At the same time, he understood that he had no control over the future. Ko Biji was still alive—he felt sure of that—and he would save her with the knowledge and skills he had. A new sense of determination welled up in him as the two warrior monks rushed back from the temple towards him.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. We’ll show you around.”
The monks led Tanshi into the Shaolin Temple.
***
Tanshi was led to the temple annex by his two eager guides. The main temple was nestled in a grove of bamboo and pine trees. Everything was quiet and still. Tanshi felt a profound sense of dignity and spiritualism in this place—as befitted such a famous Zen Buddhist temple.
The head priest, Tenryū Sōjō, entered the annex to greet Tanshi. He wore an elaborate long robe over a typical monk’s habit. He also stumbled from step to step as if he were drunk.
Tanshi stood up from a cushion and bowed deeply to the head priest. Drunk or not, this was the leader of the Shaolin Temple, and it was both safer and more polite to show respect. The head priest of the Shaolin Temple was a position selected by the Emperor, and each successive generation had imperial backing.
As a Buddhist monk of much lower status than Tenryū Sōjō, Tanshi was nervous about making a good impression. “Hello, sir. My name is Tanshi.”
Tenryū Sōjō looked Tanshi up and down, distinctly unimpressed. His breath reeked of alcohol and his eyes were glazed over.
“You have stiff manners,” Tenryū Sōjō said. “Talk like people.”
Tanshi blinked in surprise.
“So. You’re the one who waved that pewter staff around and murdered a provincial governor? Ya don’t seem like the type.”
Tanshi didn’t know how to respond to that.
“Are you a murderer?”
“Um… well, his death was my fault. But I didn’t mean it. It just kind of, uh, happened?”
“Don’t apologize!” Tenryū Sōjō roared in a voice like a lion.
“Sir?” Tanshi asked.
“The provincial governor was at fault, not you,” Tenryū Sōjō said.
Tanshi frowned. “As you say, sir.”
Tenryū Sōjō laughed like a madman. “Tell me about Kei Kai. How are his acting skills these days? I sure hope he’s improved them since the last time I saw him.”
That was a pretty blunt question.
“So he sent you to play with us, did he?” Tenryū Sōjō asked.
“I came to train here, sir.”
Tenryū Sōjō laughed again. “You don’t look like much of a warrior.”
Tanshi was completely bewildered. How was he supposed to talk to Tenryū Sōjō? All the man did was yell, laugh, and vaguely insult him and others. Tanshi thought for a moment, decided that there was nothing he could do about the head priest’s attitude and pressed on.
“Does that mean you won’t help me train, sir?” Tanshi asked.
“Would you give up if I said I wouldn’t help?”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“Ha! Good answer. It’s decided.”
“So you’ll help? Thank you so much!”
“No, no, no,” Tenryū Sōjō said. “I didn’t say anything about helping. I’ll take you on myself, then decide what to do with you.”
“Huh?”
***
“C'mon, show me what you’ve got!” Tenryū Sōjō staggered out into the temple garden, gesturing for Tanshi to follow him. He was unsteady on his feet, but somehow managed to stay upright.
Tanshi lifted up his staff. If this was a fight, he would prefer it if Tenryū Sōjō had a weapon. “Shouldn’t you have a staff too, sir?”
“Nah.”
Fighting unarmed was essential to Shaolin kung fu. Tanshi felt like Tenryū Sōjō was underestimating him, but he was really following the rules of his own preferred fighting style. Tanshi steeled his nerves and prepared for a difficult fight. He took a step toward his opponent and struck down with his pewter staff, hard.
Tenryū Sōjō swayed and dodged, then spun around Tanshi with dizzying speed, like the wild dancing of a drunken man. Tanshi looked, but there were no openings in his defense. He moved with the grace and speed of a honed warrior.
This was the art of the Shaolin Drunken Fist in action. Tanshi had never seen it before.
“Oh…” Tenryū Sōjō groaned. He back-flipped, then spread his limbs to make himself larger, expanding in size. Tanshi barely had time to take a step back before he saw Tenryū Sōjō’s body expand past ordinary human limits, spreading out into a cloud of fog that hung low over the garden.
Tanshi couldn’t see Tenryū Sōjō anymore.
Twin punches to the sides of Tanshi’s neck sprang from the mist. He managed to partially block the blows with his pewter staff, but the effort left him stunned. He jumped back reflexively with his weapon raised to protect his head. If those punches had hit him directly, his neck would be broken.
Tenryū Sōjō looked like an old, drunk man, but he was far more than that.
Now fired up to defend himself, Tanshi attacked with his full strength.
As Tanshi fell back into a fighting stance, a dragon appeared from out of the fog and glared at him. A flash like lightning, and then Tanshi felt the dragon’s tail lash out at his side. Tanshi flailed his pewter staff at the dragon’s tail to prevent the impact from shattering his ribs. He was partially successful—no ribs broken—but the dragon’s tail was still freakishly strong, and he dropped like a stone.
Jumping back to his feet, Tanshi looked frantically for Tenryū Sōjō. To his surprise, the old man stood in the center of the garden, right where he’d started the fight. He stood ramrod straight and still like a statue. Where had his playful attitude and easy laughter gone?
“I… I give up,” Tanshi said, lowering his pewter staff.
“Give up? Nonsense, young man. Where did you learn to fight? Do you have much experience?”
“Not really, sir.”
Tenryū Sōjō looked at him with a sharpness in his eyes. “You interrupted my Celestial Dragon technique with that staff of yours. That’s why you were able to stand up right away. Normally, you’d be petrified for a week.”
Tanshi didn’t understand what he was talking about.
Tenryū Sōjō held out his hand. Tanshi noticed that he was gesturing toward his staff and handed it over.
It took a few moments for Tenryū Sōjō to examine the pewter staff. “Hm. Good weapon. The energy of yin and yang brought about the flash of lightning that you saw.”
“Can yin and yang create lightning?” Tanshi asked.
Tenryū Sōjō snorted. “Can you think of anything else that would cause that flash?”
Yes, Tanshi could. His pewter staff had been lost on Yunmeng Mountain for a long time—all those long months he’d spent deciphering the Heavenly Book. And when he’d picked it up again at the rock bridge, the staff had protected him from a bolt of lightning.
“Tanshi. If you become one with this staff, you will possess unmatched power.”
“It’s a fighting art? Something magical?”
“Yes, but it is not an art I know,” Tenryū Sōjō said. “I cannot perceive all that there is to know about it. But you should train here, and make the staff’s power your own.”
Tanshi didn’t know this, but En Kō had infused the staff with powerful energies. Some of this energy had seeped out during Tanshi’s confrontation with Tenryū Sōjō.
Tenryū Sōjō faced Tanshi, utterly serious and (somehow) completely sober. “What are martial arts?” he asked.
“I understand martial arts as an expression of zen.” It had been a long time since he had last engaged in a Zen Buddhism quiz. He was able to get the answer correct on the first try, though—this was a basic question.
“Ah. And what is zen?”
“I understand zen as selfless self-sacrifice.”
“What is selfless self-sacrifice?”
“I believe that it is the highest expression of the goodness of the human heart and mind.”
“The goodness of the heart?”
Tanshi nodded “Zen is… mercy. It’s forgiving others even if they’ve wronged you, and it’s showing kindness and compassion to others without expecting anything in return.”
“Hmmm... and that’s what you think?”
“Yes, sir.”
Tenryū Sōjō smiled a genuine smile. “Good. You must always remember this: martial arts without mercy are not martial arts. They are demonic forces that can be used for evil. Martial arts as an expression of zen is a force for good. Martial arts as an expression of power over others is a corruption of the human heart. Do you understand?”
Tanshi nodded, then bowed his head. “Thank you for agreeing to help me. I showed up here with the intent of fighting just to learn to fight. Mercy was not in my heart. Please forgive me. I will try to learn better.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re seeking your own path, and that is always a turbulent process.” Tenryū Sōjō chuckled. “All true paths through life arise from an understanding of the ways of heaven and earth—the path that marries zen and martial arts. Neither is complete without the other.”
“Yes, sir.”
“This is a sacred place. Even the Emperor is not permitted through the gates without permission. You may train here without worries.”
Tanshi knelt down and bowed deeply. He was overcome with gratitude. “Thank you, sir.”
Tenryū Sōjō laughed in amusement. “Well, thanks to all that, I’ve sobered up. I’m going to go and drink some more,” he said, and went back to his chambers in the main temple.
Tanshi bowed his head and saw him off.
Even when drunk, Tenryū Sōjō remained completely calm… he saw the flash of lightning from the staff, even in the middle of fighting. Tanshi gazed at his pewter staff in astonishment as he considered the recent battle. A good weapon, indeed.
He had no idea how his pewter staff had become so special recently, but it had always been special to him.
Translator's Notes
1 Bátuó was the first abbot of the Shaolin Temple. He hailed from Southern India. Bátuó came to China in 464 and preached Buddhism for thirty years. Thirty-one years later, in 495, the Shaolin Temple was built by the order of Emperor Xiaowen specifically for Bátuó's preaching. ↩
2 Bodhidharma was a semi-legendary Buddhist monk who lived during the 5th or 6th century CE. According to a 17th-century apocryphal story found in a manual called Yijin Jing, he began the physical training of the monks of Shaolin Temple that led to the creation of Shaolin kung fu. ↩
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