The Tale Never Ends Chapter 91 The Challenge

The blinding sparkle of the sunlight was the first thing that beckoned to me when I finally regained consciousness. Strangely enough, I still feel dizzy and drowsy as a cigarette was being slid into my mouth. I took two spontaneous heaves, and slowly felt the groggy vertigo beginning to fade.

I peered around through my half-opened eyes, and here I was, lying in a bed surrounded full of people. I blinked hard to see more clearly. Lin Feng and Yuan Chongxi were sitting just beside me, with Old Man Xie and Old Man Chen behind them. There was also Uncle Quan and my parents. I took another breath, drawing another gulp of smoke. Immediately I recognized the flavor: it was one of my father's peculiar cigarettes! I began to move my lips, but felt numbness instead. I flexed my jaw, shaking off the lethargy. "What has happened to me?" I croaked hoarsely. My voice! It had become raspy and coarse like an old man's!

"You've made quite a progress your swordsmanship, did you not?" Father first spoke, his head shaking disapprovingly. But he went on before I could say anything, "Your skills with the sword have improved, but you did nothing to improve your physical attributes. You had almost completely exhausted your own lifeforce when you're supposed to tap into another form of inner energies for your swordsmanship. You were fortunate that Xiao Qi had found you in time, otherwise, we would be having this meeting in an ICU." I said nothing, merely grunting an "Oh" in response. So, I had finally discovered the key point in mentally controlling my sword, but I lack the physical attributes to properly wield the techniques. To put it bluntly, it was like finally knowing how to use a remote control only to discover that I had just run out of batteries.

I took a few more deep breaths, feeling more and more comfortable. Father must have done something to help revive me, I realized, otherwise Old Man Xie would never be here. Feeling much better now, I was about to push myself up when Old Man Xie placed a hand on my shoulder to stop me. "Stop," he said, "Your body now lacks energies and the flow of your blood is erratic." "Ah?" I gasped skeptically, "Come on. It can't be that serious?"

But in fact, it was. Hence, in order to restore myself to health, I was forced to take Old Man Xie's specially concocted brand of medicine every day. I was subjected to an entire month's dosage of his medicinal monstrosity that I had almost lost all appetite to eat. Finally, after an arduous month, I fully recovered. But that was hardly the end of my torments: not long afterward, I was summoned by my father to the National Studies Institute. Most practitioners of swordsmanship maintained a regular physical training regimen in conjunction to the practice of swordplay techniques, he said. But I, contrary to the instructions he left me in the booklet he made for me, had instead sought a shortcut and had completely neglected enhancing my physical attributes. I myself was to be blamed, so he kept reminding me. The telekinesis manipulation of swords required great internal energy, he said again, and this energy, while essentially different from the 'mana' used for sorceries and magic, was more similar in essence to "Qi" or the usual "inner energy" commonly found in wuxia novels and fictional stories.

Hence I was first trained to read and perceive the flow of Qi. Like all wuxia fiction and fantasy stories, I underwent a fresh series of training, including the proverbial "imagining my physical body as a container" and "emptying the container to fill in something new" exercises.

After a half's month of remedial training, I was finally able to read the flow of Qi in addition to channeling the Qi energy and store them for future use. With a new source of inner energy to tap into, I could again delve into practicing how to mentally control my sword like how Father did during his demonstration. With my perception of Qi, I could feel the energy coursing through me and the rate of its depletion every time I tap into it. But the skills of controlling my sword with my mind was so taxing that a simple trick or two with the sword was enough to consume more than half of my present stores of Qi. Hence, until my training allowed me to channel more Qi, the mental manipulation of my sword could only be effectively utilized only when victory is certain.

For another half month, I was personally trained by Father in honing the telekinesis-control of my sword. By the end of his tutelage, I became extremely confident in my swordsmanship, despite my father's insistence that my levels were very much to the contrary.

In the night of the final day, I dragged my wearied limbs through the doors of my home. For the entire month, I had been staying at home to sit for my father's training. Finally reaching the end of the training course, I had agreed to meet up with my companions and Zheng Shuang. I said my goodbyes to my parents and left for the hawker stalls that my friends and I regularly frequented. I reached there to find my friends already waiting for me. The owner of the stall, seeing me arriving, immediately came to our table with some fresh bottles of beer. "So, you're all here?" He remarked, "The usual?" I nodded to him; we had been here for so many times, that the owner could almost recite our usual menu by heart.

Then again, instead of a gathering regularly filled with our cheerful merriment, I realized the glum expression that my three friends were wearing. Could it be that the remnants of the Creed of the Eight Trigrams had struck again in my absence? For the past few months, I had been so accustomed to being wary any insidious plans for vengeance by what remained of the evil cult, that I would instantly think of them even at the slightest hint of trouble. "What is it with you three?" I asked at once, "Has Bai Chuanwei resurfaced?"

Zheng Shuang said nothing, merely shaking his head dejectedly. My glance shifted to Lin Feng who told me everything. It was only this morning, when Lin Feng had found a message sprawled upon the main door of the Center. Somebody had left a message with a marker pen, saying: "the insolence of the rapid pup of Murong will no longer be tolerated. Come to the empty fields in the North if you dare at 5 in the evening after three days. Retribution awaits." At the most bottom, the message was signed with the three words: The Thirteen Apostles.

I regarded Lin Feng with squinted eyes for a few seconds as I ran through what he said again in my mind. "Have you found the person who'd left the message?" I asked, but Lin Feng snapped, ruffling his hair offhandedly; a sign that he was deeply distressed, "That is hardly the point! It's obvious, innit? The message is left by the Creed! They are now bringing the fight to our doorstep!" Casually, I sipped at my cigarette and muttered, "By the looks of the message... They're calling us for a brawl?" "No, it is not! It's an official challenge!" Lin Feng barked, trying to correct me. "It's simple then," I nodded coolly, "We'll just have to show up and defeat them!" "No! No! No! What if this is a trap?" Lin Feng hissed, waving at me frantically like an agitated hen. "Think about it. Would a trap be this obvious? The remnants of the Creed are more than capable of better ruses such as this. Since they dare darken our doorstep, I'm certain that this is just simply a challenge to a fight."

"Okay, okay," Zheng Shuang relented, although his head was still shaking, "But what if the challenger is indeed powerful this time? You yourself had told me last time, not all of the Thirteen are useless fools! What if a powerful opponent does appear this time?"

I giggled at Zheng Shuang's anxiety. "Well, I cannot say for sure if these people are powerful or not. But strong or weak, human or demons, that makes no difference to me. We will not shy away from a fight against them. We've dared to venture deep into their territory in Mongolia in the past, there is no reason for us to be afraid now that they wish to fight in our turf!" There was finally a subtle change in Lin Feng's and Yuan Chongxi's expression. Being in Wu Zhong County, we could easily summon for help from our elders if needed to!

I reached for one of the barbecue skewers that a passing-by waiter had just laid on the table, savoring the tantalizing flavor of the juicy meat that I have been missing after enduring Old Man Xie's terrible medicine for a whole month. "Since they are now seeking a fight with us..." I mumbled through the food, and Lin Feng leaped up again, barking loudly again for my benefit, "A challenge!" With much annoyance, I corrected myself, "Right, a challenge. Since they are officially challenging us to a fight, this indicates that our enemy this time has backbone! Even though you are right, there are still grounds for us to be prepared in case this is a trap, but if our enemy this time indeed expects an actual duel, it indicates that our enemy this time is a brash fool!"

Yuan Chongxi, whose intelligence seemed to rise whenever he was eating, quipped, "Well, I know no one else better than Brother Lin if it comes to wushu, and I know no one better than Brother Shiyan if it comes to magic and sorcery. Whereas I... I have yet to meet a match when it comes to seeing the future..." This earned a skeptical look from Zheng Shuang who nudged and asked him, "Since when deciphering the future is also a testament of combat prowess?" "Of course it isn't" Yuan Chongxi interjected before he continued again, "But it's just a brawl. All I have to do is just throwing punches!" Zheng Shuang nodded his head quietly, seemingly exasperated with Yuan Chongxi's answer. Nevertheless, the enemy would be in for a fight if they were to underestimate Yuan Chongxi. Despite being trained to be a seer, Yuan Chongxi had been roaming in the wild with his teacher for some time before they settled down in the National Studies Institute. He was hardly a stranger to street fights and treachery, especially when most of the moves that he had honed in his years of brawling on the streets concentrated mainly at the stomach, the groin and the legs of his opponents!

Our conversation steered into a discussion of street fight techniques and tactics when a vibration shook the table. We began looking around for the source of disturbance until Zheng Shuang fished his phone from underneath a stack of serviettes. "Hello! Ah! Go on! Ah? Speak clearly..." He spoke into the mouthpiece of his phone.

From the sound of it, it could only be work. This was one of the disadvantages of serving as a policeman: one has to be forever ready to report to duty at the slightest moment of notice. We traded odd looks and smiled to him bleakly; a tacit gesture indicating that we understood his plight. But instead, Zheng Shuang slammed his phone to the table before he could press the "End Call" button. "Brothers!" He barked at us suddenly, "We have a lead!"

Chapter end