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

Wu Yingjie was not what orange-crest expected.

The initiate was big, whether by the standards of man or monkey. His limbs lacked the colossal muscles that Daoist Enduring Oath bore, but they were still quite large. Just not as large as his very healthy belly. Big people could be deceptive like that. Their limbs often looked small next to the bulk of their torso. But when you held your own arms next to theirs, it very quickly became clear why they could throw you around with hardly any effort.

The man's azure robes hung loosely around his frame, and he carried a strange weapon balanced atop his shoulder. It looked almost like a spear, if someone bent the spearhead sideways and then stuck a bunch of extra metal all around it. The gentle curve of the main blade, punctuated by three hook-like serrations along its inner edge, could easily catch a weapon, even one as smooth as an unadorned quarterstaff. It was shaped almost like a bird's talon. Meanwhile the three long thin spikes of bronze at the top looked brutal enough orange-crest was not feeling keen on testing his stony skin against them. If Wu Yingjie impaled someone with those teeth, they would not be detaching themselves from the weapon in a hurry. Not if they wanted their innards to remain in vaguely the same shape they'd begun the day.

The weapon matched Daoist Enduring Oath's descriptions of a polearm, albeit a strange one. The whole thing emanated a strange aura. Not sharp, like Jiang Yan's sword, but powerful and heavy. It didn't feel quite like earth, or metal, but some other strange power.

All of that had been within expectations. Big, strong, strange magical weapon. What orange-crest had not expected, is that he did in fact know who Wu Yingjie was. He looked a little different, but his face was not half as forgettable as his name.

"Big-buttocks!" The monkey cheered. "Thought someone else was you! Forgot your name. Wu Jingyie. Will remember."

Wu Yingjie snarled, his nose scrunching up like the snout of an irate boar. Orange-crest was pretty sure his head was a normal size, but it did tend to look rather small and pinched atop his large body. Especially when he was looking down upon you. Orange-crest had gotten taller during his time as a statue, but Wu Yingjie appeared to have added even more than the four fingers of height he'd put on. Unfair. Some men got all the growings.

"You." His fellow disciple all but spat.

"Me." Orange-crest agreed cheerily.

"My name is Wu Yingjie you filthy animal!"

"Yingjie." Orange-crest corrected himself. He hadn't been wrong on purpose. He just hadn't been trying that hard to remember. "Got-got it. Filthy animal is a little mean, Yingjie."

"What? You can dish it out, but can't take it? Of all the ways you could have changed for the worse, I hardly expected that one. Perhaps you were not too lazy to attend class, but too afraid of your fellow disciples harsh words?"

"But is not true." Orange-crest protested, enjoying the wordplay. Wu Yingjie was always fun for this sort of thing. He'd learned fully half of his bad-words from the young man. "You have big buttocks. I'm not filthy. Took a bath last week and everything. Master Daoist Scouring Medicine even made me wear a robe."

Wu Yingjie sighed.

"That's not how insults work, monkey."

"Ooh, tell me how insults work then."

The inner disciple ostensibly in charge of refereeing their fight tapped a finger against the hilt of his sword. A pulse of qi whipped across the arena, feeling like nothing so much as a gale of swords. It did not draw blood, but it felt like it could have. Like a swing deliberately pulled a hair's breadth away from kissing one's throat.

The inner disciple said nothing after, merely raising one eyebrow at the pair of them.

"Well?" Orange-crest prompted. "Don't make the inner disciple wait for your answer. He's more important than us."

Wu Yingjie's face reddened.

"Truth is secondary to intentions, you fleabitten mongrel." He ground out. Weak. Orange-crest was pretty sure the man had used that one half a dozen times already. Orange-crest had never even had fleas, and being a mongrel hardly seemed that bad.

"But then mine wasn't an insult!" The monkey protested. "Nothing wrong with fat. Means you eat good. Strong enough to get lots of food. I named you after big-butt. Except with the butt word from the medicine books. He's the best monkey. Except me. And the king. Third-best monkey."

Wu Yingjie opened his mouth, but seemingly couldn't seem to decide what part of that statement to address first.

Orange-crest turned to the inner disciple, clasping his hands and bowing. Bowing was kinda fun. He didn't know why so many men were reluctant to do it.

"May we begin, senior?" He asked respectfully. He appreciated that his senior had let him have this much fun, but he didn't want to exhaust the man's patience. His eyebrow was no longer raised. But orange-crest thought, if he looked just right, he could see the ghost of a tiny smile on the man's near unreadable face. It was why he'd pushed a little.

"You may." The older disciple said simply, before leaping backward. The wind seemed to catch him, as he flew back a dozen chi with a single effortless leap.

Orange-crest watched him soar, not even pretending to pay attention to Wu Yingjie, despite the match having ostensibly begun.

"I want that." He told the heavyset disciple. Who didn't want to fly?

"Enough of your nonsense." Wu Yingjie snarled, hefting his polearm. Grasping it with two hands, he lifted it above his head and set it to spinning. His qi rose, mingling with the heavy aura of his polearm. A furious wind surged forth, renewed with every swing of the halberd. Orange-crest found his knees bending, as he instinctively lowered his center of gravity to avoid being blown over. A terrible keening noise filled the arena, like the cries of a wounded bird. "For years, I've suffered through the mockery of fools and cowards. Idiots that think their handsome faces and trim figures are some achievement. Who act as if my bulk somehow detracts from my strength. The stupid brats that call themselves gentry, even my own family. As if I chose to be born with big bones and an unabating hunger. I'd hoped the sect would be different. But no, even the monkey is blinded by vanity. If you are so simple you struggle to remember my name, Li Hou, feel free to call me Yingjie the Ogre."

Orange-crest hefted his own staff. The weapon felt more than a little inadequate in the face of Wu Yingjie's display. He snarled. His weapon might be inadequate. But he certainly wasn't.

"Not that it will much matter, what you call me." Wu Yingjie's voice lowered. "When your master is scraping what's left of you off the stone."

Orange-crest charged.

As he did, Wu Yingjie brought his weapon down. It was too early. The timing so awkward it would miss orange-crest by a monkey length, and prevent him from recovering in time to match orange-crest's own attack. It was such a stupid move that orange-crest aborted his charge and threw himself to the side anyway.

The stone floor of the arena exploded, like soft dirt struck by lightning. Shards of sword-sharp stone tore through the air, bouncing harmlessly off his stony fur. Shouts rose up from the watching disciples, but orange-crest shut them out. Nothing outside the arena mattered.

Orange-crest shut his eyes to protect them from the shrapnel, trusting in his ears.

A heavy step. The crunch of pebbles.

He threw himself back blindly, rolling over a shoulder.

Wu Yingjie's polearm screamed through the air above him, still making that eerie keening noise. He was starting to hate that sound.

Orange-crest scrambled forward, bringing his staff around. He thrust out for Wu Yingjie's throat, forcing him to lean back and parry. Twice more he struck, trying to keep Wu Yingjie on the defensive. He wasn't sure he could block Wu Yingjie's terrifying strength. He might be strong enough, but even with his qi flowing through it, his staff was not. The big disciple was slower than him though. So long as he kept on the offensive, he wouldn't have time to wind up for blows like that.

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Wu Yingjie's polearm did not even budge as it blocked the blows. Orange-crest stepped even closer, slipping his hands up the shaft of his staff. Shorter range, faster blows. He feinted at Wu Yingjie's manly treasures, watching for a flinch.

Wu Yingjie's face darkened, as he shifted his legs, taking the blow across the side of his hip. Orange-crest ducked low as the vicious edge of the polearm passed just above his own head.

"Honorless dog."

Orange-crest stabbed out again, aiming for Wu Yingjie's prodigious belly. The polearm dipped as Wu Yingjie tried to catch his staff with the wicked serrations on its blade. Orange-crest pulled the strike, getting ready for another.

And then Wu Yingjie dropped his weapon. It bounced off his hip, but before it'd even clattered to the ground, he already had one hand around the tip of orange-crest's own staff.

"Poop." The monkey said, as he released his own grip. No time for the knife in his arm-band, a fist would have to do. He stepped in closer, ducking low as he circled tightly around Wu Yingjie. He flexed his body and cycled his qi. Power surged through him as he twisted his entire upper body, punching the back and side of Wu Yingjie's knee with everything he had.

The knee buckled, as Wu Yingjie's face whitened with pain. He topped forward, but reached out as he fell, catching orange-crest beneath him. A year ago, that would have been the fight. He would have been helpless. But orange-crest was strong now. He brought his elbows in close, then pushed furiously. He couldn't lift Wu Yingjie, not while the man had his own feet still on the ground, but he didn't need to. He just needed to get his legs free, and scoot out.

Wu Yingjie's torso shifted, and orange-crest scrambled for all he was worth. His right arm sprung free, and he reached out to claw at Wu Yingjie's face.

To his surprise, Wu Yingjie did the same. And his arms were longer than orange-crest's. Orange-crest felt the human's arms bruise beneath the strength of his new body, as he dug his nails into his biceps. But he couldn't reach the man's vulnerable face.

Wu Yingjie's massive sausage fingers pushed orange-crest's head into the stone. Orange-crest bit them, gnawing to draw blood. He felt his jaw pop from the pressure, as Wu Yingjie kept pushing his head down. A thumb slipped inside his lips, preventing him from closing his jaw properly.

"Bastard!" The disciple shouted, trying to free one hand to strike or choke him.

Orange-crest couldn't respond, with a mouth full of fingers. He felt his head lift up, then slam down a moment later. His jaw slackened. Fighting through the pain, he scrambled, trying to use the slam to make more distance. He pulled free, clambering to all fours.

A hand wrapped around his ankle. Orange-crest pulled, but with only one foot on the ground, he didn't have the leverage to make use of his strength.

He fell, immediately rising back to his hands and knees. He kicked out at Wu Yingjie's face with his free foot. He missed. The other disciple had already risen onto his feet.

A massive hand clamped down around orange-crest's shoulder, and he felt himself rise from the ground.

"Uh oh."

Orange-crest flailed wildly as he rose into the sky. Oh dear, this was uncomfortably high. He'd fallen from far higher, but he was about to do a lot more than merely fall.

Wu Yingjie roared as he lifted the monkey above his head.

"And you call me fat!" He shouted, stepping forward, his arms shaking beneath the unexpected weight. "The fuck have you been eating?"

Wu Yingjie took a second step, then leapt up into the air. He didn't make it far, supporting the combined weight of both combatants. Hardly a single chi. But when he twisted and heaved with all his might, orange-crest was sent rocketing to the ground like a shooting star descending from the heavens. And Wu Yingjie followed right behind him, fists interlocked to pound him into rubble.

Orange-crest reached out for the deepness in his bones, and turned to stone.

Stone-form was a strange experience. It was a little like being asleep, but not really. He was aware, but all his senses were deadened. He could not see nor hear, and even time seemed strange, passing in fits and starts whenever he stopped counting the passing instants. But he could feel, at least when his body was moved, or the impact was sufficiently heavy.

And orange-crest was pretty sure he bounced.

One earth-shattering impact, shaking even his stony bones. Then two smaller ones in quick succession, as he felt himself twisting in mid-air. A bounce and Wu Yingjie's fists? Orange-crest hoped the man had broken some knuckle-bones striking him. He waited what felt like half a moment, to make sure he wasn't about to return just in time to eat a fourth attack, then unfroze.

He opened his eyes to the sight of Wu Yingjie, his polearm reclaimed, charging at him. His right arm and leg were both masses of bruises, and blood dripped freely from one hand. But none of that seemed to slow him much, as he bore down on orange-crest like a rabid boar.

Wu Yingjie's polearm swung out, his qi surging.

"Nope."

Orange-crest turned back into stone.

This time, he definitely bounced. Searing pain shattered the usual sleepy-calm of statue-mode, even stone flesh insufficient to fully block Wu Yingjie's magical polearm. Orange-crest tumbled end over end, rising and falling as various parts of his body slammed into the floor. He released the transformation before he'd even stopped moving, unwilling to risk letting Wu Yingjie set up another swing like that.

As the monkey scrambled to his feet, the Wu Yingjie was already charging.

"Stop!" Orange-crest commanded, marshaling his qi for a third time.

"What, tired already?" The man huffed out between steps. "I didn't even feel your-"

Orange-crest's staff brutally slammed into the back of Wu Yingjie's head as it zoomed by, sending him stumbling forward. The man winced, as he placed far too much pressure on his bad knee. The staff spun through the air, the immobilization broken by the impact. Unfortunately, it landed nowhere near orange-crest. That wasn't good.

"Heh." Orange-crest chuckled anyway, as Wu Yingjie stumbled to a stop, unable to continue his rush without risking a nasty fall.

The two of them circled each other, wincing with every step. Orange-crest tried to keep his back straight, pretending to still be fresh. His fur hid bruises well, but he was pretty sure he had a couple broken ribs. More importantly, he was running low on qi. He stoked his dantian, and felt it all but sputter in response. He had maybe one more technique in him, before he was down to fleshly strength alone.

But Wu Yingjie looked far worse. He was a mass of bruises, visibly favoring one leg. Then he reached into a pocket, popping a pill into his mouth.

Oh. Orange-crest wanted to slap himself. He did the same. Qi surged through him, even as Wu Yingjie's bleeding began to slow.

His mind raced as they circled each other, Wu Yingjie careful to keep his body between orange-crest and his staff. Orange-crest drew the dagger he kept in his arm-band.

Did he want to finish this fast, or slow? Even with pills, Wi Yingjie's strength had to be flagging. Moving a body that large around had to be exhausting. If he crippled the big man's other leg, he could retrieve his staff and pick him apart like the centipede.

Or... Stone-form took a lot of qi to activate. It was effortless to maintain.

Wu Yingjie stepped forward, his torso lowering. Orange-crest watched carefully. He tended to overextend himself on attacks like this. Orange-crest had been going low all fight, mostly aiming above his waist when they were on the ground. Wu Yingjie would expect the same.

Orange-crest circulated his cultivation base, feeling power surge through him once more. Healing pills took longer to fully take effect than qi pills did. He didn't know how many Wu Yingjie had. It might be more than the three orange-crest had left. He would bet it all on one exchange. He couldn't let himself exhaust his resources and techniques here. Wu Yingjie wasn't the one he needed surpass. He was just another stepping stone.

His body greedily drank in the power of his qi as he surged into motion, meeting Wu Yingjie's charge. He held his dagger low, as if he aimed to slice open the man's calf.

The polearm swung, screaming like a wounded bird. What sort of pervert forged a weapon like that?

Orange-crest tossed his dagger at Wu Yingjie's face. It wasn't a good throw, the blade hardly even grazed his cheek, but it made the young man flinch.

As they closed to arm's reach, orange-crest leapt. All the furious power in his legs sent him flying through the air. He twisted through the chaos of limbs and weapons, snaking an arm around Wu Yingjie's neck.

Once more, he climbed up Wu Yingjie's torso. Just like that dark day the four disciples had chased him into the lair of that terrible flaming bear. Except this time, he did not need to run. His arms slipped around Wu Yingjie's massive neck. His legs swung over the man's arms, his feet locking awkwardly into place behind the disciple's back to restrain them.

"Got you." He whispered right into Wu Yingjie's ear, tightening his hold. He wanted to say more, gloat more, but he could already feel Wu Yingjie starting to resist.

Orange-crest tightened the choke, and turned to stone.

There was a single impact, as the two of them hit the floor.

He let himself float in the quiet void. He couldn't really feel what was going on, but one way or another, the fight was over. Nothing happening seemed like a good sign.

After an interminable time, something sharp pressed against his stony cheek. It must have been terrifying sharp, for him to feel it so.

Orange-crest returned to flesh. Distantly, he realized the crowd of disciples were watching them. Not the other matches. Them. The floor around them was a mess of craters, from the repeated impacts of Wu Yingjie's polearm and orange-crest's stone body.

"Outer Disciple Wu Yingjie is unable to fight." The inner disciple's voice was bored, even as he held a bared blade to orange-crest's face. Without the protection of his stone-form, it felt his life balanced on the edge of the man's mood, as if a single twitch might split his head in twain. Slowly, the inner disciple returned his sword to its sheathe. Despite the boredom in his voice, a shadow of wry amusement danced across his face.

"Outer Disciple Li Hou is victorious."

Freed from the threat of the sword, orange-crest turned his head. It was the only part of him that he could move. The rest of his body was still pinned beneath Wu Yingjie's bulk, which shuddered regularly with shallow breaths. His master had risen to his feet. He was not alone.

Well, he was alone in the stands. No Yang Wei or Li Shuwen at his side this time. Daoist Enduring Oath was still busy at his forge, apparently in a critical stage in the making of a 'fishhook'. But his master was not alone in being on his feet.

Two dozen disciples stood, their shouts merging into a incomprehensible roar. Orange-crest laid back, and let the noise wash over him.