Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.
- Seneca
It was dawn, the sun descending from the horizon. The weather was so cold and foggy, that I could feel the breeze nearly knocking on me on my tail as I made my way to my Mom's room to check on her. I had expected to find her up and about as usual, on her way to sell fish and beverages to the poor and overworked.
But that wasn't the case.
Instead of Mom smiling and embracing me with her pair of strong, loving arms; I stood over my Mom's cold, lifeless body. Mom's once lovely face was now pale and frightening. Her lips that were once soft were now as dry and chapped as sand. And the eyes that once were sweet and bright as the sky, were as dead and dreadful as the grave.
I couldn't believe my eyes. She was gone.
Her mind, body and soul transcended onto Heaven to be with Dad again. I fell to my knees near the bed and rest my head on her chest, as I cried from the depths of my being. I lost the one woman that gave me life. The one woman that stood by me through the good, bad and indifferent.
Mom was dead and I was all alone. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, just stuck in the middle of confusion and oblivion. It turned out that Mama died the night before. She had a paper in her hand. I think it was a will or something, I wasn't sure. Mama knew she was going to die, she just didn't know when or how her life would end.
The note stated:
Liu-
By the time you read this note, I'll be gone. I wish I could stay longer and watch you grow to become a fine man but sadly, I must leave. God has spoken, but just know that I will always be with you in your mind and in your heart. Always listen to your heart, son. That way, you will hear me speaking to you. I'm proud of you son, and I know that you're going to be a great man. Always be a force against evil, help people and never let evil prevail. Go to your Uncle Wang Zi-ping. He'll take care of you from now on. Be a good boy and make me proud. I love you forever!!- Mom.
Tears fell from my eyes onto the note. I placed the note closely to my heart for a few seconds, then placed it in my pocket for keepsake. "I love you too, Mom!!" I said, sighing. If I could throw something against the wall or cry and shout until the world tell me to shut up, I would release as much emotion as possible, but I couldn't because I knew Mama wouldn't want me to do that. She would want me to be happy, but how's that possible when I lost her and Dad? How's it possible to pretend that everything's fine when it wasn't?
An hour or so later, some monks came from the Shaolin temple and took me to live with Uncle Wang. They carried my mother's corpse away and prepared her for burial. Two days later, my mom was buried at our old house in Foshan City. There, she was buried besides my Dad's grave. After the burial, we returned to Dengfeng City where I began living with my uncle Wang Zi-ping.
Living at the Shaolin Temple and being raised by my uncle was not what I expected. I always thought I would grow up with my parents and that one day, I would be a great fighter like my Dad. Looking at my life, I couldn't see the possibility of that anymore. Residing with my Uncle was difficult. He was a disciplinarian. He expected a lot from me. Uncle Wang, like my father, was a perfectionist to the bone. No one could afford to make any errors or excuses because he refused to accept any of them.
That was how he was. Uncle Wang was like my father reincarnated, only worse.
After school, I would walk almost a mile and a half to the stream with my classmates, where we would fetch water to fill a hundred big drums. I spent most of my days learning to be a healer. Master Wang Xiu Ying was the greatest healer in the Shaolin Temple. He taught me everything there was to know about being a great healer. I said to myself, How can I be a force to stand against evil if I don't know how to defend myself? Dad's words entered my mind, "You are a young man now. You must learn how to defend yourself." As coldhearted as he was, Dad was right. It was time for me to learn other things besides books. Hence, I decided to learn how to fight. One day, I walked into Uncle Wang Zi-ping's room and requested to become one of his Shaolin students, so I could learn Shaolin Kung Fu and become a great warrior. "Ah!" he said, pleased to hear my request. "so you finally made a warrior instead of a geeky healer, huh?" he teased, laughing. "Good for you. Your parents would be very proud," he said. Still speaking, he added. "It's okay son, you can join the training tomorrow!" he said.
As I turned to walk away, he called out. "I'm proud of you, you're going to be a great fighter and healer one day." I shut the door behind me, happy to know that besides Mom, someone believed in my capabilities to do good in the world. I went to the temples archive to read stories and documentaries of all the great monks and warriors of the Shaolin Temple. I read about the victories and the challenges they endured and overpowered to become the great men they are. Their stories inspired me to become a great fighter, not just for the heck of it, but to seek justice for the voiceless and defenseless and to pay homage to my ancestors and the ones before them that have paved the way for their descendants to live a happier, yet safer existence and so on and so forth. I would spend over an hour or two in the archive and read the stories before going to sleep. The next day, Uncle Wang granted my request to join the training.
I was the youngest kid in the class. Most of Uncle Wang's students were in the process of becoming Kung Fu expertise, I was just a newbie. I trained harder than everyone else. I was determined to be the best because I knew it was time for me to grow up. I didn't join the training because of fame nor affection from girls, they can wait. Some of them are too much to handle, might I add. I had plenty of time to worry about the opposite sex.
Presently, I was focused on being a fighter and a healer. My aim was to combine and utilize my logic and bodily-kinesthetic skills for the great of good instead of bad. Every day, I would spend some of my free hours in training whereas others were having fun or resting. Sometimes Uncle Wang would arrive at the Temple and teach me a thing or two about Shaolin Kung Fu. I improved a bit in most areas of Kung Fu, but not much, which was disappointing because I was hoping to have become a better fighter by now.
It would take a miracle for me to become a great fighter, I contemplated, shaking my head. I wonder if anyone has any magical potion for me to take, so I can become a great warrior?
It was as if I was giving so much, only to receive so little in return. Yet I was determined to get my act together and remain more focused on the art of Kung Fu, so I encouraged myself and continued to train harder day by day, without skipping a beat, no matter what.
Four months passed and I still wasn't getting as good as I wanted to be. Grandmaster Wang Zi-ping did all to help me, but to no avail. He spent so much time and effort in teaching me and I also spent so much time and effort in learning, but I still could not get the moves right. Soon, we both became tired and frustrated due to my inability to learn and master Kung Fu. Maybe I was not born to be a great fighter like my Dad. Maybe it's my destiny to be a great healer, not a fighter, I pondered, blowing out hot air. All that training and preparation was wearing my nerves, and I could tell that Uncle Wang felt the same way too. I looked at the situation of things and saw that I was better at healing than I was at combating.
Let's face it, I wasn't going anywhere with this Kung Fu stuff. I couldn't kick a certain way. I couldn't land punches properly or anything. I might as well climb under a rock and stay there. Good and bad notions entered my cranium at once.
You can understand why I was thinking that maybe it's my destiny to be a great healer not a great fighter, right?
How can I stand against evil? How can I be a force against evil and fulfill my Mom's dying wish if I'm just a healer?
That was one of the questions I never stopped asking myself, but deep down; I knew I needed to fulfill my Mom's wishes, one way or the other. The question was how would I be able to fulfill Mom's wishes if I couldn't do something as simple as defend myself? I could take up boxing lessons, I thought, but suddenly blocked that foolish thought out of my mind. Oh, grow up Liu! If you suck at Kung Fu, you most certainly suck at boxing!
Well… the right side of my brain had a point. Kung Fu and boxing required a lot of focus and determination to become the best in the world.
Then, my left side of my brain decided to put its two cents in;
I'm sure I will find a way to honor her wishes, even if not by being a great fighter. Uncle Wang brought me back to reality. "Are you okay, Liu!" he asked, handing me a cup of cold water. The other monks looked in our direction but didn't utter a word to neither one of us. But I wasn't blind nor stupid. I knew what they were thinking; God, that kid sucks! Hell, my dog and wife are better fighters than him. I feel bad for his uncle. He must be tired from all that damn teaching. I looked at Uncle Wang, feeling more strong-minded to prove to the world that I can and will become a great fighter one day and that everyone wouldn't have a choice but to give me the respect that I deserve. I'll show them all, I contemplated, nodding. One… by…one... "Yes, Uncle Wang!" I said, biting my bottom until it almost bled. "I'm fine. Let's get to work. There are still some moves I need to work on."
Sadly, everyone's assumptions of my impending failure, including Uncle Wang's, came to fruition. Soon, I began spending more time in learning how to be a great healer and so I spent less time with my Kung Fu training.
What the heck? Maybe it was for the best.
It was almost time for the MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) competition and the UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship) League. The contest deadline was not far, just two months shy away for Shaolin students to prep and win the competition at all costs, no excuses. The temple administrators decided to play nice and allow everyone from various schools to train with us and other future competitors. I thought it was kind of odd, because I assumed it would cause chaos and confusion among other things, but I was wrong.
Everything was harmonious and in sequence. Everyone from various martial arts establishments were in the gym room, preparing for the competition. Some of the best and brightest combatants were present, more than ready to show off their impeccable fighting skills. Some of them stretched their arms, back and legs before the fight, while others practiced the moves they've been working on for weeks at a time. I was one of those students until I realized that combating with others was not for me. From the looks of things, I realized I did the right thing by sticking with medicine instead of broken bones and missing teeth.
Anyway, the rule was that the winner will emerge as the new champion and leave the fight with a prize in handy. My father and uncle were once MMA champions, and so were his master and his master's master. The Mixed Martial Arts is a great event that every fighter wants to be a part of. My Shaolin classmates were also prepping for the competition. Chung Lee was our best student and fighter. He was the one to represent us in the competition. Quiet as kept, I envied him. There have been many nights where I have mentally kicked myself in the ass for not being as good as Chung. I wanted more than anything to be as great as he in the fighting department, but I couldn't.
I just didn't have it in me to be like Chung or anyone else for that matter.
Since I hadn't dedicated much time to learn Kung Fu, Grandmaster Wang Zi-ping directed his time and attention towards training Chung Lee to get him well prepared to win the competition. The contest was just two months away and we really needed to win. Chung Lee trained regularly, spending extra time in training. Sometimes, I would sit and watch him train. Also, I would treat his injuries whenever he would sustain a bruise during his training. Master Wang Xui Ying was getting old, so I was left with doing most of the job of treating anyone who was sick or injured. Chung had never been the one to make small talk, yet he thanked me for healing his wounds, told me to keep up the good work. Chung Lee was determined to win and make our school proud. I had never seen someone so determined before. He trained day and night until it was time to compete. We arrived at the competition, amazed at seeing everyone at the contest; practicing and talking amongst each other until it was time to fight. Though there were so many wonderful fighters present, we were very positive that Chung Lee would win for our school, because he was an absolute badass.
The competition, surprisingly enough, took a few months to finish. Chung Lee fought his way victoriously from the flyweight to the bantamweight, featherweight through to the heavyweight and super heavyweight, where he faced Li Qiang. Li Qiang was the best fighter in the Ax Gang. Chung Lee and Li Qiang fought bravely, neither one of them showing an ounce of intimidation. Both were as tough and fearless as they come.
Chung Lee took many swings against Li Qiang, trying to land a hit on him but was only able to land just a few hits, because Li blocked and defended himself from Chung Lee's attack. Chung Lee also fought hard and defended himself, but his opponent had the upper hand. Simply put, Chung almost lost the fight. Assumed that he would lose against Li, my uncle and the rest of the Shaolin administrators would never let it die, ashamed that their best and brightest student had brought shame to the Temple by losing to some lowlife in the Ax Gang. At the final round, Li landed so many heavy hits against Chung Lee. It almost dismantled him but miraculously, Chung Lee found an opening and landed a jaw shifting and jaw breaking punch on Li Qiang's mandible, which left him incapacitated like a rag doll.
Boom!
Crack!
Pow!
His brain shook, his eyes began to spin, making him see stars! Li Qiang tried to hold on to the little bit of pride and fight he had left, but after Chung landed that punch on him, it was obvious that he lost his grip in the combat. Chung Lee dismantled him terribly, defeating him. Chung Lee became the new champion, thereby making our school victorious. People nicknamed our school, The Victorious Establishment, afterwards. We were admired, yet respected and people feared us, knowing not to cross the line or face dire repercussions.
Shortly, many students everywhere attended the Temple to learn Kung Fu.