Black Dragon, Black Cat Read online

  Regardless of the meaning, Mao was happy to cherish the moment, sipping her tea and letting the stress of the day dissipate and her thoughts wander. Several times, she felt tears of joy swell in the corners of her eyes, but held them back lest she embarrass herself in the presence of her elders.

  After the customary period of time had elapsed, Mao collected the teacups and serving tray and returned them to the corner table. Master Jai-tien stood up, and the two of them bowed again to Mother Lu-chin and walked out of the house. They began their descent down the hillside pathway, walking briskly downward in a careless fashion.

  One thing remained to bother Mao, which was how Lu-chin had known of the momentous events of the day. In fact, how did Lu-chin always seem to know when something significant had transpired? Mao thought about this as she walked quickly down the hill, but could reach no reasonable conclusion. Eventually, her curiosity took control of her.

  “Master Jai-tien,” Mao asked after building up her courage, “how is it that Mother Lu-chin always knows when something significant occurs with our training? Is she a magician?”

  The old man laughed at her. “Come now, Maome,” he scolded, “do you really believe in magic? Have I not trained you to rely on your own powers, not those of the heavens?”

  “But how then could she possibly know, Master? She never comes down the hill, and you only go up in the evening. Yet when we arrive, she somehow has sensed the events of the day. How could she possibly know?”

  “Really, Maome, I am surprised that you could not find the solution for yourself. It is very plain: Lu-chin always sets out the tea service on the corner table shortly before we arrive. As she does so, she can look out the window to see our approaching figures in the distance. It is easy for her to read our body language and postures to gauge how the day has transpired. When we are extremely lively, she knows that it has been a glorious day, and when we are downtrodden and laboring, she knows that some tragic event has occurred. There is really not more to it than that.”

  Mao could see the logic of this immediately, once it was explained to her. She had never before considered that Lu-chin might watch them approach. It was hard for her even to imagine Lu-chin getting up out of her chair, because she had never seen the old woman anywhere else. Nevertheless, Lu-chin must still be very perceptive at her age to recognize all of these nuances in body language from such a distance.

  For once, Mao realized, she had gotten a satisfying answer from Jai-tien concerning his mother’s affairs. As she walked down the pathway, she scanned the ground for small stones, and picked up the small flat ones that she passed. When she had collected six of them, she stacked them on top of her hand and performed her exercise. To her amazement, she caught all six of them easily the first time! She placed them back in position, and made a second attempt. Again, she managed to catch all of them. She repeated this several more times with the same result. Mao tossed the stones one by one back onto the path, and smiled to herself the rest of the way down the hill as she followed in her master’s lively footsteps.

  The departure

  In the following several days, Mao continued to learn and employ her new knowledge and developed a mindset of reading the physical clues displayed by her opponent. Jai-tien tried to trick her by sometimes indicating false movements; however, Mao’s skill at analyzing them steadily improved to the point where her master’s deceptions necessarily became more and more complicated. As her skills continued to develop, she found it increasingly easy to anticipate his moves, and after only a few days she was able to begin developing her own methods of deception. Jai-tien read these easily at first, but this became more and more difficult for him with each passing day. Nevertheless, Mao still had difficulty in defending against Jai-tien’s attacks, although she was able to mount counterattacks with greater dexterity using her own deceptions, which gave her a momentary advantage to begin her own advances.

  Each evening after supper, Mao and Jai-tien would make the long climb up the hill to the home of Lu-chin. They both walked up the hill energetically, feeling the exhilaration that comes with success: Mao at becoming proficient at her art, and Jai-tien at finally teaching her to understand the deeper aspects of it. Upon arrival, they would find Lu-chin seated in her chair with a broad smile upon her wrinkled old face. Mao would serve the tea, and then enjoy her new status seated in a chair of her own to the left of the old woman, while Jai-tien sat on her right side. Mao savored the tea, and felt rejuvenated each time she collected the tea service and placed it back on the corner table after finishing. Then she and Jai-tien would depart, while Lu-chin remained seated in her chair with the broad smile ever-present on her face. The long walk back down the hill was lively and taken in high spirits.

  After a week of this new phase of her training, Mao had progressed rapidly to the point where Jai-tien trusted her abilities enough to begin the most physically demanding aspects of his unique style of kung fu. He stopped the exercise routine on the seventh day of the new phase, and told Mao to sit on the ground with him. They both sat cross-legged on the ground, which had thawed completely during the intervening days. Mao had been relieved to train in dry clothes these past few days.

  “Hei Mao, you have progressed rapidly in the past seven days!”, the old master stated emphatically. “I believe that your mental faculties are finally developing the capability to think and to act, rather than just act from what you have been trained. You will now begin forging your own nuances to the style of kung fu that I am teaching you. Therefore, it is time to begin training you to execute some of the more complicated movements of our art.”

  “I told you many years ago that simple quick strikes are better than complicated slow ones. You have learned this lesson well, and the simplicity of your techniques often works to your advantage. However, there are many instances in which simple techniques are not sufficient to guarantee victory. Many opponents that you may someday face might possess unbelievable skills that you will find impossible to penetrate with simple techniques, regardless of how perfectly you perform them.”

  He paused for a few moments to let his words sink into Mao’s consciousness before continuing his lecture. “We talked once about the difference between low kicks and high kicks. Low kicks are very fast because the foot does not need to travel far before impact, whereas high kicks must travel a greater distance before striking. This provides a long period of time in which to dodge or parry the strike. In order for a high, slowly moving kick to be effective, it must be preceded by a series of quick strikes that thrust the opponent backwards and thus impede his reactions to the point where a slow technique has a small period of opportunity for impacting. It is difficult to find this window of opportunity, but when impact occurs, the effect can be devastating.”

  Jai-tien again ceased talking for a few moments to let his statements find a permanent location in Mao’s memory. She sat silently, thinking earnestly over the words that her master was speaking.

  “Today I will begin to teach you some of the very complicated techniques that are natural to our form of kung fu, ones that you will not find in any other style. Some of these will be very difficult to execute, and are counterproductive if performed improperly. Many are slow moving techniques, and are very risky to use because they leave you wide open to counterattacks during their slowly evolving execution. Each technique must be set up properly in order to work, and then the timing must be perfect to take advantage of the small period of opportunity that presents itself. However, always keep in mind that a few of these techniques are to be used only as a last resort, when all else fails: never rely on a more complicated technique when a simple one will suffice!”

  Jai-tien stood up, and motioned for Mao to do the same. He shook his head as he did so, lifting one knee and then the other off the ground and sighing audibly. “Unfortunately, I cannot demonstrate all of these techniques to you, as my old joints will not allow me to perform some of them properly. In fact, some of these complicated movements I will
teach you I could never manage to perform properly at all. Nevertheless, it is apparent to me that you possess the natural ability to master these techniques, and I can teach them to you although I cannot demonstrate them myself. However, we will begin with the techniques that I can demonstrate and still perform adequately.”

  Mao was very disappointed to hear these words, as she fully realized that without a proper demonstration, her progress would be slow. Nevertheless, her spirits were high and she was thrilled to have the opportunity to pursue these complicated new techniques.

  Jai-tien paused and stretched his arms over his head for several moments before continuing. “You should remember when I explained the movement of the twist kick used in our style of kung fu. While everyone else would perform this technique using a thrust from the inside knee position to the opponent’s abdomen, our method is to move the knee outside of the hip and thrust it into the opponent’s side, either into the liver or the spleen. This is the more natural, and therefore quicker, movement in our style. Let us begin by reviewing this kick before adding more complicated features to it.”

  That evening Mao’s spirits were very high as she had learned several new promising facets of this simple kick that she had been taught many years ago. While Jai-tien prepared their evening meal, she lay on the ground under the willow tree at the green pond as the onset of evening brought cooler air from the north. She patted the stone under which the ashes of the old black cat were buried, and thought about the poor creature briefly, bringing its spirit back to life. She could almost feel it rubbing up against her legs as it had during its physical lifetime, and she smiled at the memory. She wished that the poor old cat were there so that she could pet its thin, brittle fur again.

  Jai-tien called out, and brought Mao from her reverie. She stood up, dusted herself off, and headed up to the house for the evening meal.

  The hot stew that Jai-tien had prepared was finished off quickly, and Mao set to cleaning the dishes while the old man swept the area around the table. A few minutes later, Jai-tien picked up his walking stick and headed out the door. Mao joined him in the crisp evening air, shutting the door behind her. She could feel the bite of the cool air in her lungs, and blew little puffs of steam purposefully from her mouth as she and her master set out on the daily journey up the hill to visit Mother Lu-chin.

  They arrived after the vigorous walk at the house of Lu-chin, and entered after lightly scratching at the door to signal their arrival. They bowed to the ancient woman, who was seated in her usual chair, wearing the broad smile to which Mao was rapidly becoming accustomed. Jai-tien took his usual seat to the right of his mother, and Mao went to prepare the tea service.

  She brought back the steaming tea and handed the cups to Lu-chin and her master, then took her own seat on the left side of the old woman. The soothing effects cleared her mind, and after what seemed like an instant her tea was finished and it was time to depart. She stood up and retrieved the teacup from her master, then turned toward Lu-chin to collect hers as well. Rather than handing Mao the teacup, as usual, Lu-chin wrapped both hands around it and pulled it to her lap, while remaining completely silent.

  Mao waited for perhaps a full minute before turning briefly to her master for guidance. Jai-tien also sat stoically facing forward, and gave no hint that he noticed the unprecedented event that had just occurred. A few seconds later, she gave a mental shrug and returned to the corner to clean the tea service. As soon as she had finished, Jai-tien stood up and moved toward the door. Mao followed him, and the two bowed to the old woman, still clasping her teacup, before exiting and closing the doors behind them.

  Jai-tien was strangely silent the whole way down the hill, and plodded along slowly, often leaning on his walking stick. Mao was perplexed as to the sudden change in his mood, and wondered what was wrong with him. “Master,” she asked after the walk was almost finished, “what has happened to your spirits tonight? Have I done something wrong?”

  Jai-tien seemed to be lost in his thoughts and did not respond. Mao did not dare to ask a second time.

  The next morning, Jai-tien seemed lethargic and spent more time during his morning meditation in front of the shrine than usual. He then went about his chores, but seemed to be preoccupied although he performed them with the same care as always. Mao found his behavior to be strange, but proceeded through her own chores in the same manner as every other day.

  At lunch time, Jai-tien only picked at his food with his chopsticks, eating little of that which he had prepared. Afterward, his mood seemed to improve and he led the daily training exercises with his characteristic zeal. He instructed Mao in several new advanced kicking techniques, trying to build upon her foundation of similar simple kicks that she had been practicing for years.

  The evening meal followed the daily training, and again Jai-tien’s mood turned somber and he ate but little. Mao wondered what could be causing this very odd behavior. Her master did not seem sad, or tired, or sick, just lost in his thoughts as if delving deeply into his memory.

  Mao cleared the table after supper and washed the dishes in a bucket of water while Jai-tien swept around the table. Several minutes later, he picked up his walking stick and led the way from the house.

  Jai-tien stopped many times on his way up the hill, turning from the trail to lean on his stick and cast his gaze over the valley, down to the river and the tiny villages that dotted its winding banks. Mao was concerned to see his dour mood continue, but she could tell that this strange behavior was not due to weariness. Her master was involved with some memory, and she knew it was not her place to interrupt his thoughts. She silently followed him up the hill, stopping when he did, and trailing slowly behind him when he resumed walking again.

  Finally, after the agonizingly slow walk up the hill, the pair arrived at the home of Lu-chin. Jai-tien scratched lightly at the door as usual, and then slid it back and slowly entered the house, bowing in the customary fashion as he did so. Mao entered immediately behind him, turned to Lu-chin, and bowed as well. The old woman sat in her chair, with one hand resting in her lap and the other one lying on the seat cushion of her chair. She wore a broad smile on her wrinkled face, and Mao did not notice anything peculiar until she stepped further into the room on her way to the corner table to prepare the tea. Stepping closer to the old woman, she noticed that Lu-chin’s head was oddly tilted to the left side, as if she had fallen asleep in her chair. Then Mao noticed a paleness to the old woman’s skin that she had never noticed before, and immediately recalled that she had not noticed any movement at all from Lu-chin since the time she had entered the house. A gasp escaped her lips, and in a state of impending shock, she reached down and touched the old woman’s forearm. The chill of death was upon it.

  Mao stood dumbfounded, staring down at the lifeless body of the old woman. She cast her eyes down to the floor and saw a thousand splintered shards of the tiny teacup that the old woman had kept in her hands the night before, which had fallen to the floor and shattered. Mao did not want to believe her eyes, and turned to face her master, who had remained still behind her.

  “Master,” she whispered with a pleading expression in her eyes. “is she…is she dead? Tell me she is not dead!”

  “Yes, Maome, she is dead,” he replied solemnly, and then remained silent.

  Mao still could not accept the truth of the old woman’s death. She turned her head back and forth quickly several times between Lu-chin and her master, hoping that they were both playing a horrible joke on her. She suddenly realized how much she had grown to care for the old woman. She had never even exchanged a single word with Mother Lu-chin, but still she felt deeply attached to her for some unknown, inexplicable reason. Mao had never thought about her relationship with the old woman, but now it seemed to her as if there had always been a strong bond between them. Several seconds later, she burst into tears.

  Jai-tien remained standing impassively behind Mao, with stony silence upon his lips. Mao turned to him and a disconcert
ed expression crossed her face. “Master!,” she blurted out as the tears began streaming from the corners of her eyes. “You knew that Mother Lu-chin would die last night, didn’t you? Is this not why your spirit has been so quiet this day? Why did you not tell me that she would die last night? Why did you not tell me? Why?”

  “She told you herself, Maome,” Jai-tien replied, “but you were not paying attention.”

  Mao looked back down at the shards of glass from the shattered teacup and began to cry in earnest. She struggled to maintain her voice through the sobbing gasps that erupted from her. “Master,” she cried between her teardrops, “if you knew that she would die last night, why did you leave her? You should have been here when she died!”

  “For what purpose?” he replied stoically. “She would have died anyway; it was her time to pass into the spirit world, and she faced it bravely, in the manner of a great warrior. She did not want me to watch her die, but to remember her as she lived.”

  “But Master,” Mao continued, completely unconvinced, “surely there is something you could have said to her, something to ease her passing!”

  “There was nothing to be said, my Maome,” Jai-tien replied placing his hand upon her shoulder. “Everything that was worthy of being spoken at that moment had already been said a long time ago. Now go, prepare the tea.”

  Mao choked off her crying and stared in disbelief at Jai-tien’s face with an extremely puzzled look on her face. “Did he really just tell me to prepare the tea service?”, she thought to herself. Jai-tien sat down in his chair, put his hands on his knees, and closed his eyes, just as he would normally do. Mao stood in amazement for several long moments, thoroughly exasperated. A final expiration of air from her lips signaled her exasperation at her master’s behavior as she withdrew to the corner to prepare the tea.