Fists from Shaolin, Swords from Mount Hua

"You bald donkey, with all that racket on the tournament stage, is Shaolin just going to stand by and do nothing?"

"Amitabha!"

"You ox-nosed priest, I'm a monk who's left the secular world behind. The four elements are empty to me—what do fame and fortune matter? If they get on your nerves, you can always send Wudang's disciples up there to teach them a lesson."

"You bald donkey, stop pretending. Who doesn't know what the other is up to? I refuse to believe you don't have an ulterior motive when Mount Hua Sect is making such a spectacle of itself."

Chongxu and Fang Zheng's exchange, with one calling the other "bald donkey" and the other "ox-nosed priest," left the nearby pugilists trembling with fear. The more pleased they had been with their seats earlier, the more they regretted them now.

The grudges between the three great orthodox sects weren't something anyone should meddle in. If they happened to overhear something they shouldn't, they might end up as mere mortals caught in the crossfire while immortals fought.

For all their bickering, neither man had any intention of making the first move. Both could easily overpower the Mount Hua disciples onstage, but they were a generation above them.

As the greatest beneficiaries of the status quo, Shaolin and Wudang naturally had to abide by the jianghu's rules in public. They couldn't bully the young with their seniority.

Because of differences in their traditions, the various sects didn't recruit disciples at the same time. As the years went by, differences in seniority emerged.

The disciples of the same generation from Shaolin, Wudang, and Mount Hua Sect—the ones whose names included the character "Bu"—had only joined their sects a few years ago. Their martial arts weren't up to snuff, so stepping onto the stage now would only invite humiliation.

That was also why Fang Zheng and Chongxu were the ones steering the ship for Shaolin and Wudang in Smiling Proud Wanderer. It wasn't that the two sects had no successors; their younger disciples simply hadn't come of age yet.

Put a more generous spin on it, and perhaps the two sects had done it on purpose. Orthodox sects valued respect for their elders, and having greater seniority always made it easier to gain an advantage when handling jianghu affairs.

Add Shaolin and Wudang's special standing in the jianghu, and it was easy to pin the label of "highly respected" on the heads of the two sects, giving them an advantageous position as arbiters in the jianghu's disputes.

Perhaps realizing that they were on Mount Hua and that discussing this in front of everyone was inappropriate, the two lowered their voices in tacit agreement.

After their banter, Fang Zheng said solemnly, "Ning Qingyu is a man of great ambition and vision. In recent years, Mount Hua Sect has produced one talented disciple after another. Ever since Feng Qingyang emerged from Mount Hua with his sword, Mount Hua Sect has been impossible to hold back."

Chongxu shook his head. "Bald donkey, there's no need to repeat what everyone in the jianghu already knows.

"My Wudang Sect is far away in Huguang. Even if Mount Hua Sect rises to prominence, it can't reach all the way to us. You can keep that headache for yourselves!

"By the way, didn't you just say 'a sword emerges from Mount Hua'? Then why not call it 'swords from Mount Hua'? It would pair nicely with your 'fists from Shaolin.'

"See how considerate I am? I've put your two sects on equal footing, while my Wudang Sect has been left out altogether."

Interests were always what set conflict in motion. So long as his own interests weren't involved, Daoist Chongxu was happy to watch the show.

Despite their good personal relationship, the two great powers behind them were rife with conflict. As successors to their respective sects, their first duty was to consider their sects' interests.

Though both were pillars of the martial world, Shaolin Temple still had the edge over Wudang. For years, Wudang Sect had been held in check by Shaolin, and only Mount Hua Sect's rise had changed the balance.

Wudang had always wavered over how to deal with Mount Hua Sect. On the one hand, they wanted Mount Hua Sect to keep Shaolin in check; on the other, they didn't want another apex predator at the table.

Even Fang Zheng, mild-mannered as he was, was furious at this teasing.

It looked as though Wudang was giving ground, but in truth, Chongxu was putting Shaolin Temple on the spot. If Shaolin accepted "swords from Mount Hua and fists from Shaolin" as equals, it would be tantamount to acknowledging Mount Hua Sect as the jianghu's dominant power.

There would then be two dominant powers in the north, separated by a mere six or seven hundred li, with their interests intertwined in many places. There was no way they could coexist peacefully.

The jianghu was a world full of fence-sitters, and often there was no room to back down. If the various sects got the impression that Shaolin Temple had caved, Mount Hua Sect's prestige might surge again in a short time.

"Ox-nosed priest, don't push your luck. If Wudang dares to support Mount Hua Sect, we'll support South Shaolin in challenging you in the south. We'll see who comes out on top!"

Compared with North Shaolin, South Shaolin had a much lower profile in the jianghu. But a low profile didn't mean they were weak.

They might not measure up to Wudang Sect, but they weren't much weaker than Mount Hua Sect as it stood now. With Shaolin Temple's support, they really would have the strength to go toe-to-toe with Wudang.

But Wudang Sect had backing of its own. As the site of the imperial family's ancestral temple, Wudang had always enjoyed good relations with the Great Ming court—something Shaolin Temple couldn't match.

In fact, the Great Ming court had helped Wudang Sect rise rapidly and gain the strength to stand alongside Shaolin Temple.

After all, this was a world of martial arts, where martial artists' capacity for destruction was astonishing. Shaolin Temple, the military pillar of Buddhism, was also far too powerful. It had long since aroused the Great Ming court's wariness.

Daoist Chongxu laughed heartily. "Bald donkey, don't try to scare me. I wasn't raised to be frightened. The mess between you and South Shaolin could keep us talking for three days and three nights.

"If you really let them out, you'd be the first ones with something to worry about. Even if you aren't afraid, are the old monks in your temple not afraid of another north-south Shaolin feud?

"If you want to stir up trouble, wait until you're abbot first!"

Perhaps the breakfast at Mount Hua had been too watery. As more and more secret tales of the martial world came to light, the nearby pugilists started slipping away to relieve themselves.

Fang Zheng was at his wits' end with Chongxu, who wouldn't be swayed by any argument. The price of his own countermeasures was far too high compared with simply letting a rumor out.

After a long silence, Fang Zheng seemed to think of something. His anger gave way to calm, and he said, "Ox-nosed priest, you're right. It could indeed be 'swords from Mount Hua.'

"As long as Wudang Sect doesn't mind losing the title of the foremost sword sect, Shaolin Temple can make room for it."

If Li Mu had been there, he would have been stunned. So that was how the reputation of "fists from Shaolin, swords from Mount Hua" in Smiling Proud Wanderer had come about.

Although Mount Hua Sect knew this was meant to set them up for a fall, they couldn't refuse. If they wanted to rise to the top, they had no choice but to accept it.

"Swords from Mount Hua" sounded impressive, but beyond making its disciples more arrogant, the title would bring them nothing but a mountain of resentment.

There were so many sword-wielding sects in the jianghu. Who would willingly take second place? Even if they did nothing about it, they would still resent Mount Hua Sect.

Wudang Sect in particular relied heavily on swordsmanship. Its sword arts were in no way inferior to Mount Hua Sect's, and its overall strength surpassed Mount Hua Sect's by far. There was no way it wouldn't feel a thorn in its side.