Between Beast And Buddha: A Drunken Monkey's Journey to Immortality

"Honored Daoist, you cannot be serious."

Disciple Chang De was experiencing a most trying morning. He'd heard rumors that Daoist Scouring Medicine had fallen from grace. Crippled a disciple, and been stripped of the privilege to teach. He'd assumed there would be a grain of truth to them. Perhaps more than a grain, it would be beyond bold to so slander a full daoist. But if the man hadn't been censured, then the circumstances could not be as cut and dried as the most vicious of rumormongers implied. He was not sure what he had expected. It certainly had not been... Monkeys.

"Ooo! Fruit!"

Daoist Scouring Medicine gestured sharply, and an invisible force grabbed orange-crest and hauled him back to his side before the monkey could wander away. The daoist was getting a great deal of practice with the Phantom Palm these days.

"His name is on the rolls, is it not?" The daoist said. "Any initiate or disciple in good standing is entitled to attend the introductory martial classes, are they not?"

"Li Hou? These characters... The Li who is a monkey? You cannot be serious."

"He calls himself persimmon head. I felt that name was more dignified, and equally descriptive." A vein pulsed in Disciple Chang De's head. As much as the daoist intimidated him, the wry humor in the older man's voice was slowly driving him to fury.

"Calls himself?" The outer disciple spat through gritted teeth.

"He has attained a limited proficiency with language in the last few days. Truly, he learns far more quickly than the average disciple. I think he's trying to call himself orange hair, or orange head, but his vocabulary isn't quite there yet."

Disciple Chang De struggled greatly to think of a coherent response to the stream of madness that issued from Daoist Scouring Medicine's mouth. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

"The elders will hear of this." He eventually replied. The eternal refrain of disciples who knew they had decisively lost an argument. One elder could decisions. As a collective, they rarely agreed on anything.

"That seems likely." Daoist Scouring Medicine said mildly. "Truly, the sect is more skilled than even the officials of the court at the efficient spread of gossip. If we were to claim ourselves the second greatest gossips under heaven, not even old women in alleys, or tea house patrons, would dare to declare themselves first."

Chang De was struck dumb by the sheer blasphemy. Did he have no care for the face of the sect? Every word out of his mouth piled insult upon insult.

"Don't blame me if he runs off." Chang De finally said, grasping at straws for any excuse to refuse to take temporary custody of the beast.

The daoist pointed to the band of carved jade around the beast's arm, graven with lines of silvery script.

"I can track him to the ends of the earth, if I must. Daoist Enduring Oath is a most gifted refiner."

"He's hardly half their size. The other students may injure him."

Daoist Scouring Medicine shrugged.

"He's probably already well into the first stage of Qi Condensation, pushing up against edge of the second. I doubt most of the initiates can say the same so early in the year. Ensure he is not killed, crippled, or beaten by a group, and I shall not hold his injuries against you."

"How am I to teach a monkey?"

"It's not that hard? I taught him the fundamentals of language in a week, I don't see why you can't show him martial forms. He understands the words 'Stop', 'Give', 'Here', 'There', 'Still', and the names of most fruits. Give him a plum if he does well, a verbal reprimand or slap if he doesn't."

Disciple Chang De sighed. He'd run out of objections. He stared wistfully at the plum tree across the glade. He didn't know how, but he already knew this was going to end badly.

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"Strike!"

Orange-crest didn't know why they were swinging sticks in the middle of the forest. But his brother had promised him many fruits if he stayed until the sky-fire took its rest. And orange-crest was no oath-breaker, he had known the honor of serving royalty! The Monkey King did not tolerate the sort of rampant treachery that sometimes plagued other mountain monkeys.

At least, orange-crest was pretty sure that his brother had promised him many fruits. It might have been more lessons in counting fruits. The gulf between their commands of language was steadily narrowing, but it was far from closed. Orange-crest was proud of how quickly he was learning. His hairless brother was far slower to pick up the true tongue. Even after a few days he knew but three hoots and not a single trill.

His brother had said nothing about obedience, but his brother grew irritable when orange-crest asked too many questions. When in Mount Yuelu, a monkey did as the king did. Here in this glade, when the tall one barked, the pack swung.

And so orange-crest swung with them.

And what a pack of hairless ones it was! He stood at the edge of a crowd that strained his ability to count. He'd reached the biggest number he knew, seventeen, before starting anew and making it halfway there again. And he'd counted only perhaps one in five of the hairless ones present! The hairless-ones in this glade alone were likely half as numerous as all the monkeys of Mount Yuelu.

Steadily, they punished the wind together. Orange-crest was the most skilled of them all, his beautiful new stick whistling through the air faster than any other! The stick was so perfectly smooth, and the slightest bit slippery, but in a good way, just like the walls of his brother's house-cave. Orange-crest had already decided that it was his now. He would be keeping the stick, no matter what the tall one wanted. One could not simply hand out sticks so fine without extracting a promise and expect to receive them back afterwards!

"Initiate Wu! Back straight!" The tall one barked.

Orange-crest swung. The smaller hairless ones around him made many mocking-hoots.

"Stupid monkey."

"Does it think it's supposed to swing at any word Instructor Chang says?"

"Ooo?" Orange-crest queried wordlessly.

"Li Hou! Keep your mouth shut, unless you wish to taste my fist! The same for the rest of you!" Chang De could not believe the words out of his mouth. Addressing a monkey by a man's name. By its mere presence, the beast was steadily poisoning the discipline he'd worked so hard to instill in these youths. He silently cursed Daoist Scouring Medicine. Whatever madness the man was suffering, could he not have left Chang De out of it?

Those were most definitely angry hoots. Orange-crest kept quiet, until the tall one's eyes left him.

"Third sequence, ready position!"

Orange-crest followed the motions of the crowd as best he could. They made strange shapes with their bodies, swinging their beautiful sticks at the air as if to beat an invisible foe into submission. Curious, he sought to mimic them. But their stances were stiff. They reached at the instructors example but failed to grasp it, and in so doing made their strikes slow and awkward.

Orange-crest's greedy eyes tracked every movement, the smooth way the tall one transitioned between guarded-lying-body and punishing strikes that would send even a tiger reeling. But orange-crest's body was not the same shape as the body of the tall one who led the pack. His shoulders were lower, hunched. His arms longer, legs shorter. But then, he didn't have the same body as big-butt either. Orange-crest had learned to fight like his lumbering monster of a boss, he could do the same with this hairless one.

Orange-crest's resolve burned hot in his chest. For hours he strove to master the staff, spinning and thrusting as he shattered the skulls of imaginary tigers. He practiced harder than anyone!

Then he got bored.

The sky-fire had long since begun its climb down from the zenith of the heavens. It was hot. His fur was damp. His mouth felt dry. The plum trees called to him. Whispered of juicy squishy crunches. He'd seen them, just off the path. They were only a short walk from the clearing they were all were playing-pretend in. Surely a short break would be fine.

"What exactly do you think you're doing, Li Hou?" Disciple Chang asked. His voice made orange-crest's fur stand on end. It was far too calm.

"Ook?"

Orange-crest stopped moving towards the plum trees. He could wait to eat. His brother would be back soon.

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Chang De sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. He wasn't going to beat a daoist's direct disciple. Even with the man's permission. Even if it was a damn monkey. Daoist Scouring Medicine's falling reputation only made him more dangerous. An injured beast was most liable to lash out heedlessly after all. Normally, he wouldn't compare a Daoist to an animal. Even in the privacy of his own head. But the man's disciple was a monkey. It fit.

"Here." He barked, pointing. He should have paid more attention to the list of words the beast knew.

"Ooo." The monkey nodded at him, sitting down cross-legged. The beast began to pant like a dog.

The initiates, predictably, began moaning at him as well. Demanding a break, or water. He frowned. Perhaps the mad daoist was not completely wrong. His human students were irritating as well.

"Why does the monkey get to rest?"

"That's not fair!"

"What sort of sect is this, that monkey has a daoist for a master while we toil unacknowledged?"

"You don't want that daoist for a master. I heard he crippled all his human disciples with dangerous practices, then sold the Zhang family medicines that didn't work."

"No way!"

"Silence!" Chang De roared, stoking his qi to fury. A sourceless wind ripped across the glade, leaves raining as if autumn had arrived in an instant. Initiates staggered, some knocked to their knees by the weight of his will. He might not be a true daoist yet, but the seventh stage of Qi Condensation was not an achievement bereft of merit. He was only twenty six after all. He might not achieve Foundation Establishment by thirty, like the great talents did. But he felt confident he would manage it before forty.

The monkey perked up, its eyes covetous. Chang De sneered at it. It might have had some good fortune in the past, but it would soon discover that while fortune might carry one ten li in an instant, but only talent and effort combined could cross ten thousand li.

"Pair off. Exchange pointers." He commanded. It was near time anyway, and easier than getting the class back on track.

"I want the monkey!"

"No, he's mine."

"I'll fight you for him!"

"Then someone else will get the monkey!"

"The last to partner will exchange pointers with me." Chang De's voice cut across the chatter.

The two disciples fighting over orange-crest immediately bowed to each other, taking up their staves. Better a certainty of fighting a fellow initiate than a coin flip between a monkey and Iron Blooded Chang.

"Get up, monkey. I would see your worth." This voice was calmer. Young, but without the brash confidence of the others youths. Orange-crest looked up.

"Oo?"

The hairless one standing before him wore the same sort of false-skin as the other small ones. But unlike the others, this one's was a brilliant white. Over that layer, he wore a wide strip of false-skin that surrounded his waist like a river held the earth. It was blue, like the robes of the other hairless-ones in the glade. But a deeper, more sumptuous, blue. A blue like the autumn sky in the opening hours of twilight.

Orange-crest didn't see the point of fake-skins, but he liked that belt. He liked it a great deal. One day, he too would wear a river across his waist.

"You heard me beast. Rise, and take up your arms. I, Yang Wei, shall judge your merit."

"Impressive, Initiate Yang. I didn't know you aspired to join the theater."

"Still your tongue brother! His background is formidable. The Yang family of the Three Rivers holds an imperial commission."

"All of you, shut it, or I will begin deducting pills from your allotment!" Chang De shouted. "Li Hou. Fight him!"

Chang De's eyes slid across the field. His breaths were slow and heavy, sublimating the wrath within his heart into focus. With the late addition of the monkey, his class should be uneven. If he was to suffer this indignity, he would at least have the pleasure of working out some of his frustration on whatever laggard failed to follow his instructions.

"Initiate Ren." He purred. His voice was like the first grinding crack of river-ice, an inescapable promise of calamity. "You seem to be without a partner. Allow this senior to further your education."

Initiate Ren gulped. Silently, he prayed to all the gods. But Heaven's answer was as wordless as his petition.

Orange-crest stared up at Yang Wei, heedless of the misfortune unfolding behind him. His ears perked up, as wood clacked against wood. He watched as the small ones moved as one, instantly shifting from dancing-mimicry to lesser-strife. Even the tall one had chosen a partner. That one cast aside his good-stick, moving to box the small one's head with all the heavy fury of a big-butt wronged, and all the mercy of red-eyes on a bad day.

Orange-crest felt bad for that small one. It was their own fault though. They should have run. Every-monkey knew you didn't hang around the mighty when they were in a foul mood.

Orange-crest cast his eyes about the glade. Why did they all fight? It was not even wrestling, but lesser-strife in truth. The blows they exchanged were fully fit to bruise or bloody, were they to land. On Mount Yuelu, a tree such as the one with plums might be a cause for lesser-strife in a lean year. But the tree had been here the whole day, and the hairless ones might be blind, but they were not that blind. No heated female cast beguiling scent through the space. As far as orange-crest could tell, there were no females at all among them. There was no king to display their might before either, only the tall one.

Orange-crest had no idea what was going on, but he could recognize patterns. Every hairless one had an adversary. He turned to Yang Wei once more. This one must be his.

"Ooooo. Ek ek ekek ek." He shook the weakness out of his limbs, stoking his heart-fire. This hairless one stood two full heads above him, but orange-crest had grown up with big-butt and red-eye. He was small, by both the standards of men and monkeys. But never had he been found wanting in strife.

He might lose frequently, but he never went down without drawing blood. He hefted his beautiful new stick. It was time to show the foolish-challenger the color of his blood.

"Yes, beast. You might be slow, but at least you are not a coward."

Yang Wei smiled. The others wanted the monkey because they thought it easy prey. But he had eyes that saw and ears that listened. Its martial arts were crude and simplistic, but they had an elegance that the other disciples, blindly copying their instructor, lacked. Unfortunately for the beast, it stood before Yang Wei. Be they destined for mortal armies or daoist sects, the sons of the Yang family all pursued the martial path from the time they could walk. When he was next granted leave to visit his parents and his honored uncle, it would make for an excellent story to have defeated a daoist's personal disciple.

Yang Wei twirled his staff and then swung it clear, raising his left palm to his chest. He held the pose for a moment, a proper martial salute. Then he charged.

Orange-crest met him with a half-hearted thrust. His staff tracked the hairless one's head, forcing a parry, lest the youth brain himself. When his opponent spun with the strike, bringing the lower half of his stave around for a powerful blow, orange-crest dropped to the ground.

From all fours, the orange-crest sprung into the air like a frog. His staff shot out viper-quick, popping Yang Wei in the face. The blue-belted hairless one reeled, clutching at its nose.

"Ooooooo." Orange-crest hooted mockingly. Slow, stiff. Little hairless ones didn't learn the rules of nature at their end of their brothers fists, and it showed. A soft-hided little whelp who dared to step up to the great orange-crest could expect no better.

"Silence, monkey!" Yang Wei hissed. "We've only just begun."

Yang Wei struck with a powerful overhead swing the monkey sidestepped. He skipped forward, kicking his staff free from the ground and smoothly transitioning into a thrust. The damnable beast had already danced to the side, fouling the angle. It swung at his ankle as he recovered, forcing him to hop back awkwardly, surrendering the momentum.

"Ooooook!" It wailed, mocking him instead of taking the offensive.

Fine, it wished to play like that? Yang Wei abandoned his attempt to fight as Disciple Chang had taught them. He slid a length of the haft of his weapon through his hands, extending his reach. A quarterstaff was no spear, but his family's arts would still shatter bone without a spearhead.

Yang Wei let loose a trio of vicious thrusts. The monkey dodged each by the skin of its teeth, giving ground freely. He pushed forward, driving the beast before him. The damn thing might be agile, but he was taller by far. His tight spear-work left no room for its wild counters, forcing it on the defensive.

"So fast!"

"Glad I didn't get the monkey."

"Screw the monkey, I don't want to fight Brother Yang!"

"Hey, watch it!" Some nobody shouted as Yang Wei drove the monkey into the middle of their bout.

Their staves clashed like thunder, drowning out the chatter of the bystanders. Yang Wei could see the monkey's teeth now, snarling. It was fast, and strong. He could see why the daoist chose it, its cultivation was powerful for a wild animal. Qi lent its arms strength muscle couldn't, and speed even that exceeded even Yang Wei's. But supernatural strength could only do so much in the face of superior skill. Its wild arts were no match for his spear-work, refined by years of practice under a true master. Once Yang Wei stopped limiting himself to the staff forms he'd been studying for all of a week, it no longer could find any opening to punish.

Yang Wei smiled, baring his far cleaner teeth to match the monkey's. A good bout was a good bout, wherever it came from. All it needed now was a victorious conclusion. He snorted. Perhaps that was a little too generous, it was still a monkey.

"Not so confident now, are you?"

Yang Wei slowed, giving the beast a beat. His feet shifted. He might not be able to use any of his family's legendary techniques yet, but his uncle had shown him many times one did not need qi to end a fight with one blow.

"Kreeeeeee!" Orange-crest roared. He'd been restrained! Polite! The hairless one had given him clear shots and he'd been gentle, offering him the lightest of correction. Now the blue-belted one fought like a demon, his stick lashing out with force enough to break bone. Even an enraged red-eyes did not lash out so viciously among his pack! He wanted to play rough? Orange-crest would show him how a monkey played rough.

Their battle raged like the heavens in storm, until the blue-belted one missed a step. Orange-crest moved to punish him, but his foe's hands danced like lightning. Somehow they shifted, clearing a path where none had existed before.

The tip of Yang Wei's staff descended, connecting with orange-crest's wrist with a brutal crack.

"Know your place, beast." Yang Wei said, turning away from the monkey cradling its broken wrist. "This is the difference between men and animals. True skill."

Orange-crest hissed. His healthy hand blindly pawed at the dirt, searching. He rose slowly, chasing after the blue-belted one.

"Haven't had enough yet?" Yang Wei turned with languid grace, a smile on his lips.

Yang Wei's staff caught the monkey's, easily blocking his strike. The monkey screeched as the shock travelled up its injured arm. Yang Wei's eyes widened, as its healthy arm rose as well. He bent back, desperately trying to dodge.

And then his world vanished into a haze of white hot pain, as the fist sized rock smashed into his forehead. Hot blood dripped down his face, falling off his chin like rain to stain his the white robes of the Yang Clan.

"Honorless dog!" Yang Wei cried, tackling the smaller monkey.

The pair descended into a violent pile of flailing limbs and clawing nails until Disciple Chang arrived to separate them. Yang Wei was chastised at length. Chang De, when his temper finally cooled hours later, admitted to himself that he wasn't entirely sure what exactly he blamed the initiate for. But in the moment, it was far too easy to blame him for disrupting the class, escalating the match, lacking decorum, and losing to a monkey.

The raging orange-crest on the other hand, Chang De sat upon. That, even in his later reflections, he felt was fully justified. The monkey roared and flailed, then recoiled from the pain of flailing with a broken wrist, then flailed some more. It took the better part of an half an hour for it to exhaust itself.

It was in this condition, that Daoist Scouring Medicine returned to collect his monkey.

"Well, at least you didn't kill anybody." The daoist said mildly. "And I had the opportunity to finish a batch of Three Poison Medicaments without you eating powdered lead or Black Yew bark. Come on persimmon face, let's get that blood out of your fur."

When orange-crest's rationality finally returned to him, he was greatly disappointed to discover he had left his smooth stick behind in all the excitement.