Chapter 657: A Cunning Mind, a Wicked Heart

Once, the Hollow Mountain Sect was famed above Shaolin as the foremost school under heaven.

Li Bai left a poem:

Hollow Mountain’s valor is known to the world,

its spirit keen as an autumn wind.

Heroes’ descendants carry it on—

for a hundred generations the will burns bright.

Du Fu also left a poem:

If you take up the sword to guard yourself,

you must climb Hollow Mountain to seek instruction.

The twin coach-horses of this land’s verse—Li Bai and Du Fu—both wrote to enshrine the Hollow Mountain Sect’s majesty.

But—an astonishing fact!

The founding ancestor of the Hollow Mountain Sect, True Person Bihong, had been a warrior-monk of Shaolin (roughly, the primeval ancient Shaolin)!

Hence why, though Hollow Mountain is a Daoist school, a strong Buddhist scent is mixed through it.

And hence why “all the world’s martial study comes out of Shaolin”—how Shaolin dares to bluster that every art under heaven sprang from them.

Strictly speaking, since Shaolin’s arts came from India, one ought to say all martial arts came from India.

So—which is the foremost school under heaven: Shaolin or Hollow Mountain?

Strictly speaking, both are correct.

Hollow Mountain are experts in war.

Hollow Mountain has been a border since antiquity.

Until the last dynasty, before Tibet voluntarily ceded Qinghai, it ever served as such; the sect’s history is one of fighting foreign raiders—the guardians of the western frontier.

Thus, Hollow Mountain keeps no fewer than eight stelae gifted by emperors across dynasties to honor its defense of the realm.

That’s why Li Bai and Du Fu, leaving Shaolin aside, left odes to Hollow Mountain.

Even the chronicles record—across eras—that the sect fought off the “barbarians” and saved tens of thousands.

True, about half of those feats were by a pre-sect war band called the “Men of Hollow Mountain,” but still.

Thus in war—collective tactics, moving as a single army—Hollow Mountain has no rival under heaven.

However, because their study is closer to an army’s than a lone fighter’s, they were judged shallow in depth of pure martial theory.

In a line: terrifying in a swarm—one by one, nothing special.

“Head of Sect, have you been well?”

“Mmh. Yes. And you, Heavenly Flower Sword—thriving? If I don’t chase you out quickly, all the sons of Hollow Mountain will be bedridden with lovesickness. And you too, Jade Qilin. What, have you come to lay our daughters flat as well?”

The Head of Sect of Hollow Mountain, Dancheolja “Skull-Splitter Hook,” cracked a joke.

His face was so stern it was hard to tell if it was a joke.

For reference: in his epithet “Skull-Splitter Hook,” the “Hook” is a type of stratagem weapon—a heavy iron hook.

Back in Qing’s homeland, they called that a pry bar.

“Skull-Splitter” means “smashes heads”—a vicious moniker: the Head-Splitting Pry Bar.

“Hehe—we’re on the way back from seeing the Sword-Cut Wall at Kunlun.”

“The Sword-Cut Wall! I see. So you’re the fair thieves come to steal Hollow Mountain’s study. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.”

Dancheolja kept tossing old-man jokes.

Then, after repeatedly clearing his throat, he slid in a question.

“By the way—how many stances at Kunlun?”

“Three stances.”

“Indeed?”

A semblance of a smile crept over his stern face.

Qing carefully continued.

“The... Heav—no, the Heavenly Martial Emperor’s Ideation? Residual will? The spirit he left within the art?—I spoke with that, a bit—some ghost-like thing—and it said he left ‘this stance’ here at Hollow Mountain...”

The Heavenly Martial Emperor got treated like a stray ghost.

He hadn’t directly said Hollow Mountain had “this stance,” only told her to go next—so this must be it.

If it matched, there’d be no disappointment from premature hope; if it didn’t, it would be a surprise gift.

Better to say so up front.

“Is that so...”

His face went stern again.

But only for a moment.

“One stance to Shaolin, two to Hollow Mountain—three to Kunlun? It seems he’s touring in the order of orthodox schools. The fourth will be Emei or Wudang.”

He meant the five great orthodox schools are counted as Shaolin, Hollow Mountain, Kunlun, Emei, Wudang—a positive thinker if ever there was one.

Though, since Wudang is said to hold the ninth stance, perhaps not exactly.

“Speaking of Kunlun—a letter arrived marked ‘Most Urgent’ to prepare relief at once. What on earth happened?”

For reference, “Most Urgent” is the highest urgency.

Qing straightforwardly recounted events at Kunlun.

In any case, the news would be delivered by courier; she had the charge, if calamity broke out, to carry word en route while seeking Hollow Mountain’s aid.

“Ha—those Blood Cult curs. From the sound of it, nearly resolved. With the elders present, that rabble wouldn’t dare run wild. And that child... mm.”

His gaze, settling on Jayeo sleeping in Qing’s arms, filled with pity.

Qing and Dancheolja were true masters; sensing whether a small child slept was a matter of casual awareness.

Hearing herself mentioned, she subtly played at sleep—a desperate, sly gambit: if she pretended to sleep, maybe they’d speak frankly about her.

“You, Heavenly Flower Sword, made a grave decision at a young age. To harbor something baleful—if I said I had no concern, it’d be a lie. But it means the elders truly trust your character. Yet to take someone in is the most responsible of undertakings—you must feel the weight of it, fully.”

“Don’t worry. Even if Jayeo one day discards me, I won’t discard Jayeo.”

At Qing’s answer, the child leaned in, letting her full weight rest on Qing.

Truth be told, Qing said something like “don’t worry”—and then something worrisome.

Which was precisely Dancheolja’s kind of joke.

“Hah! The Heavenly Flower Sword has wit indeed! A child raising a child—you’ll eat twice the ‘trouble.’”

Compared to Qing’s, Dancheolja’s joke had less charm.

Even so, Qing mustered a gentle chuckle to please the sect head.

Power has a demonry that makes unfunny jokes funny.

“But—mm. The Sword-Cut Wall. If it were up to me, I’d take you straightaway to see it. Yet the running of the main canon is not mine alone; I cannot decide by myself.”

Hollow Mountain uses “Head of Sect” rather than “Sect Master.”

Not a mere cosmetic difference from other schools.

Hollow Mountain has eight training gates collectively called the Eight Gates, and each gate’s leader is already a “Sect Master.”

Thus “Head of Sect” means the representative of the eight Sect Masters.

These eight gates are vertical, not parallel: only after earning recognition for basic attainment in the First Gate, Flying Dragon Gate, can one enter the Second, Soul-Chasing Gate, and move up into higher study.

Qing blinked.

At the Young Dragon & Phoenix conclave he had said they should stop by Hollow Mountain on the way home, hadn’t he?

She’d assumed he’d gladly show her.

A smile touched his sternness again.

“I’m not saying no. But when big decisions are run roughshod by one man, even small resentments pile up. The heart is hurt by petty things that stack up into great hates. Great wrongs can sometimes be forgiven and settled; it’s the trifles that are fearsome.”

With a general’s bearing he spoke like a true Daoist sage—oddly mismatched.

“You’ll just need to wear out a little shoe leather. Drop my name—‘the Head asks permission from the Eight Gate Masters’—and they’ll nod. After that, go view it. In any case, they say too many oarsmen send the boat up a mountain—well, when nine windbags who can blow a stout fart belong to one school, we’ve blasted ourselves up to the peak, haven’t we.”

Still a joke in the dislike column.

Except—

“Hiik.”

Jayeo, pretending to sleep, couldn’t hold it in and burst.

A joke just right for an eight-year-old (estimate).

First, rest well.

Luckily, Jayeo loved water.

In fact she was fastidious—loathed having anything dirty on her skin.

Qing thought it was likely because the Blood Cult had left her filthy; she’d come to abhor grime.

So if you said bath, her eyes lit like stars; as a little child, she now showed the small-adult trait of dozing off while toasting in hot water.

For the record, whenever something got on her, she scampered straight to Gyeon Pohee, thrusting out the soiled spot.

Mm. And what exactly does our Gunyeong do?

Should her mom card be revoked?

Anyway, evening had fallen; they shook off what little travel weariness a comfy carriage ride brings.

At first light, with Daoist Myeon-ak leading the way, Qing set out to tour the Eight Gates.

Hollow Mountain’s First Gate: Flying Dragon Gate.

Flying Dragon Gate is the foundation of foundations—teaching fifteen Flying Dragon martial methods: Flying Dragon Sword, Spear, Saber, and so on.

Notably, over half involve stratagem weapons—unusual arms.

Most striking: the paired whips.

Two whips at once?

“I find it curious?”

“Yes—but why paired whips? Couldn’t one hand hold a different weapon?”

The Flying Dragon Gate Master smiled.

“That’s why they’re paired. Once both hands are equally trained, you can grab whatever comes to hand and use it any which way.”

In short, Hollow Mountain’s study pursues extreme practicality.

In wartime, where do you find proper arms?

So you learn broadly; you use whatever you grab—and you use it hard.

Since you can use whatever you pick up, you don’t hoard weapons; you’re not stingy about throwing or breaking them.

Carrying and wielding odd arms makes it hard for foes to cope—bonus.

Other Flying-Dragon-ish arts abounded:

Flying Dragon Wheel, using a disk blade; Flying Dragon Brush, handling a short needle disguised as a writing brush; Flying Dragon Fan, wielding an iron fan.

Also a weapon called the “Shovel”—Flying Dragon Shovel, a sharpened spade swung like a blade.

“Mm. The Head said you’d be seeking each Gate Master’s leave. You honor our faces; I thank you. I grant it.”

As the Head said—something like a feel-good roadshow—the Flying Dragon Gate Master answered at once, without a heartbeat of delay.

Second Gate: Soul-Chasing Gate.

If Flying Dragon was fixing the basics of many arms in place, Soul-Chasing was marrying footwork and body method—handling them freely in motion.

A disciple who reaches this gate may introduce their study as Soul-Chasing, no longer merely Flying Dragon.

Third Gate: Fate-Shearing Gate.

Once you could keep the handling of fifteen arms stable while moving, you entered the true killing-cuts.

A disciple who reaches the Third may call their art Fate-Shearing.

For reference, the “Fate-Shearing Sword” Qing learned uses the character for “to escape”—a sword that slips the bonds of fate.

Hollow Mountain’s uses the character for “to deprive”—a sword that takes life: a killing sword.

Fourth Gate: Swaying Gate.

Here you learn two body methods—Swaying Step and Swaying Dance Step.

The former is flight, leaps, and crossings; the latter is crawling, rolling, and dropping low—akin to “ground-pounding fists.”

Rolling on the ground is called “downfall” and deemed shameful by many fighters—but not by Hollow Mountain.

Pursuing real combat, they say: in a fight you might roll and crawl—what’s shameful about that?

If you win, it’s glory.

For reference, “Swaying” is the “intoxicated” sway—regarded as the pinnacle of movement—so “Drunken Fist” flashed through Qing’s mind.

Indeed—this is that “Drunken.”

At the Fourth, you may call Fate-Shearing “Swaying Art,” though few do—lacks flair.

Fifth Gate: Divine Fist Gate. / Sixth Gate: Painter’s Family Gate.

A disciple may choose Fifth or Sixth—or both.

Both add feints and deceptions to make attacks subtler; one chooses to taste.

The lines of the Divine Fist are bold and free—most male disciples favor it.

The Painter’s Family lines are graceful and soft—women tend to favor it.

That makes six.

Passing the Sixth raises all the basics to a crest.

Then one earns the right to enter the Seventh and Eighth—one or the other, or both—or circle back to any of the First through Sixth for deeper refinement.

Only now does free training truly begin.

Seventh Gate: Stratagem Arms Gate!

As the name says, you focus on stratagem weapons:

iron-ribbed baskets, great sickles, pitchforks, flails, seals (yes, the stamping kind), king-bells, wooden clappers, ropes, hammers and nails, fishing poles, bells, belts, paired shields (?), bracelets, and so on...

By this point you wonder what exactly isn’t a weapon—learning, researching, and advancing ways to wield every oddment under heaven.

Eighth Gate: Mystery Void Taiji Gate!

Once reserved for the Head alone—to receive the sect’s inner canon.

But to remedy the weakness—adept in odd tools, thin in orthodox depth—it was remade as a gate to deepen the theory and advance the sect’s divine studies.

Reaching the Eighth adds a philosophy to the basics learned before—rebirthing them as Hollow Mountain divine arts.

If, say, you took Divine Fist & Sword at the Sixth, at the Eighth it could be reborn as the Demon-Subduing Sword—and so on.

After three years at the Eighth, one may finally boast of having learned Hollow Mountain’s divine arts:

the Demon-Subduing Sword, Seven Harmonics Fist, Blood-Note Flying Claws, Heaven-Penetrating Palm, and more.

Perhaps because of that, the Stratagem Arms Gate Master was full of complaints.

“That’s why the youngsters don’t come to Stratagem Arms these days. Tch. The root of Hollow Mountain lies in these odd arms. But they get seduced by fancy—loitering at the Eighth to learn Demon-Subduing Sword.”

“But this side looks far more fun to me. I think I’d have chosen the Seventh.”

The Gate Master’s eyes stretched wide side to side.

Qing meant it; and being an elder of long seasoning, he recognized it at once.

His face blossomed.

“Ah, the young lady knows what’s what. Yes—yes, indeed. What fun is there in swinging blades and spears and sabers everyone else uses?”

Smiling, he asked:

“Since we’re on it—rare as it is to have a guest of the Seventh—won’t you learn a few little tricks?”