I decided to take shelter from the blizzard in the ruins of my dungeon. Snow and ozone blew in from the hole blasted by the explosion, carried by the icy wind howling through it. The first floor housed barracks or something similar—a bunch of bunks with small chest-nightstands at the head of each bed.
My jailers lived here, as I gathered, and trained too—I found a training room nearby. The sour, stale smell of rhino sweat hit my nose. Disgusting.
There was no dining hall, however, which saddened me—I really wanted to taste food again... My stomach, silent for twenty years, suddenly reminded me of its existence with a hungry cramp. Oh well, to hell with it; apparently, the dining hall is on the other side of the bridge, so the rhinos thrown down there might even be able to feed themselves for a while... Unless, of course, they kill each other in the dark. That thought brought me a grim satisfaction.
Wandering through the dilapidated (what else could you expect after so many explosions?) halls, I finally stumbled upon Vakhir's room.
It wasn't much different, but at least it wasn't as large, and as expected, I found a map there, which I understood perfectly well thanks to Tai Lung's knowledge. It was crudely drawn on tanned leather, but it had all the key points: the Spire of a Thousand Spears, where I was, and the distant Valley of Peace.
Settling onto a chair made of some branches twisted into a bizarre shape, I decided to take a short nap. The chair was surprisingly sturdy, even if it looked like the creation of a drunken carpenter.
Yes, not the safest decision, but I was just too tired. Not so much physically as mentally—from the tricks with my Chi, from the merging of two consciousnesses. It wasn't just fatigue; it was burnout. The war inside my head was finally over, and a reboot was needed. In theory, my memory issues should pass faster this way too, otherwise, it's hard to perceive myself as two beings simultaneously...
Why did I agree so easily to the role of "avenger" and the attempt to get a title that will give me absolutely nothing?
Well...
If we ignore the strange feeling telling me that this title must be mine, burning brightly in my heart at that moment (that was clearly the original Tai Lung's pride speaking), it's worth mentioning what this title actually grants and why obtaining it will seriously solve absolutely all my problems.
The Dragon Warrior is the highest level of mastery, the maximum a martial arts master can achieve. There is, admittedly, the rank of "Heavenly Phoenix," but that's more of a theoretical title than a real one. In the entire history of China, no one has even come close to it; even Oogway himself was far from becoming a Heavenly Phoenix, which is why martial arts masters perceive it as almost nothing, like a fairy tale.
Back to the Dragon Warrior. Obtaining this title allows one to possess the legendary Dragon Scroll, which, according to legends, grants incredible power... Here I chuckled. Fortunately, I watched the cartoon not so long ago to forget this moment—there is nothing in the scroll. The golden surface serves as a mirror so the warrior can see their own reflection and realize that the secret of their power lies within themselves. Or something like that. A cosmic joke for which I rotted in prison for twenty years.
But if we talk about the real things this title grants, a few key points stand out. And here my practical mechanic's mind took precedence over the warrior's fury.
From the perspective of the imperial court, the Dragon Warrior is merely an administrative-legal position that endows its holder with certain rights and responsibilities. First and foremost, like all kung fu masters, the Dragon Warrior has the right, and simultaneously the duty, to use their martial arts skills against criminals to stop their illegal activities. However, unlike many other masters, the Dragon Warrior has no specific jurisdiction and can fight crime in any part of China.
And here is the cherry on top.
Furthermore, this title is accompanied by corresponding respect from the Emperor, as well as a full amnesty and forgiveness of all sins.
That's it. This is me smoothly leading up to the fact that by receiving the title of Dragon Warrior, I can continue to live in peace, because that mistake of mine will no longer matter to the law... I will be able to walk under the sun without looking back in fear that the Emperor's army is coming for me; I will become not just a fugitive criminal again, but a hero!
Especially if the previous Emperor passed away during these twenty years...
"Oh..." I sigh, stretching out on the chair. Sleeping on a rhino's bed... Possible, of course, but somehow I don't want to. It's nasty. So I'll spend this night here, sitting on the chair. Still more comfortable than sleeping on my knees with huge boulders on my arms and needles preventing me from inhaling...
Thus, pondering various topics, I fell asleep, not fearing intruders, for a master of my level would sense someone else's presence without any trouble even in sleep...
Valley of Peace, Jade Palace
Far from the icy peaks of Chorh-Gom, in the sun-drenched Valley of Peace, a completely different atmosphere reigned.
"Master, are you sure this is a good idea?" a young woman with short green hair and a pair of hairpins in it watched with an uncertain expression the beating... no, the training of the newly announced Dragon Warrior.
A panda named Po, who had appeared in the Jade Palace only a couple of days ago, was currently getting punched in the face by Mantis—one of the Furious Five.
Thud.
Smack.
Ouch.
Today, poor Po had managed to get beaten by absolutely everyone in the Jade Palace; Master Shifu even asked the janitor to "help with the training." And to Viper, watching this, such an approach seemed... overly cruel. Po was clumsy, loud, but... harmless.
"I will not allow this fat oaf to become the Dragon Warrior!" frowned a small old man with red panda features. His voice was tense with suppressed rage. "I have trained you for this for many years, and I will not accept such a Dragon Warrior!"
Meanwhile, a literally thirty-centimeter guy with green claws finished beating the panda and walked over to the others.
However, instead of renouncing his title, the panda, groaning, got up and simply performed the baoquan gesture—a symbolic gesture of deep respect, peace, and martial virtue.
It seemed the dwarf old man hadn't counted on this at all, because at that moment, for the first time in the day, malice appeared in his voice.
"I have been easy on you until now, panda," the master spat, narrowing his eyes. "Enough, your next opponent will be me!"
"Come on, yeah! Let's go!" Po shouted joyfully, maintaining the goofy smile he'd had since morning, getting to his feet from a lying position.
The panda's strange enthusiasm even slightly scared some members of the Furious Five... Especially Mantis.
"Step forward," Shifu commanded, standing opposite Po. And when he took that very step... The tiny man simply lifted the huge and fat guy over his head, spinning him in the air with incredible speed. "To achieve victory," Shifu began, "one must find the opponent's weakness," continued the master, slamming the panda to the ground and putting his arm in a lock. "And make him suffer!"
"Woo-hoo-hoo, yeah..." Po drawled, grimacing in pain but not wiping the smile off his face.
"Use his own strength against him until he gives up or quits this business!" Shifu continued, starting to spin the fat guy over his head again, then slammed him to the ground once more and lifted his head, holding him by the nose.
"But a true warrior never quits what he started!" Po declared with enthusiasm in his voice. "Don't worry, master, I won't ever quit either!"
However, the words intended to calm the master only infuriated him more.
Throwing the panda over himself, Shifu tossed him into the air and, right before landing, flew into the fat guy's belly with both feet, sending him on a long flight down the palace stairs...
Ba-dum.
Boom.
Bam.
Ouch.
Ow.
"If he is smart, he will quit and won't climb back up the stairs," Tigress declared as all the young masters went outside the palace gates to witness the fall of the "Dragon Warrior" firsthand.
"He will come up," Monkey said, not noticing his eye twitching.
"He just doesn't want to quit," Viper stood up for the guy, watching his descent with some sadness, accompanied by groans and screams.
"Doesn't want to quit rolling down the stairs?" Mantis chuckled, immediately falling silent when Viper looked at him with a squint.
"I wonder, where does he get so much enthusiasm?" Crane joined the conversation.
"You wonder?" Monkey inquired. "I couldn't care less, he's kinda weird... And he doesn't belong here, what kind of master is he?"
"Kung Fu masters are not born," Viper turned an angry gaze to Monkey. "Kung Fu masters are made. Or should I remind you how you begged the master to take you as a student?"
"Ahem, no need," Monkey waved it off, walking away toward the palace.
"Do you really think he'll succeed?" Mantis inquired. "He's just a fat panda..."
"I don't know," admitted Viper. "But we weren't taught to mock the weak either..."
"Alright, alright, so be it, I'll help him... I think a session of therapeutic acupuncture won't hurt," Mantis drawled thoughtfully.
"Great idea, then I'll probably scan his body and make a map of Chi points; I'm afraid it will be difficult for you to figure it out yourself considering his... build," Viper suggested with a smile.
"Oh, I'd be grateful."
Spire of a Thousand Spears, Chorh-Gom Underground Prison
Waking up was... easy, perhaps?
My consciousness had rested, and my body had managed to recover.
After a short sleep that gave me much-needed time to rest, I began looting the barracks...
Rummaging through all the chest-nightstands, I managed to find a couple of silver ingots, called "liang" here, and a couple of thousand bronze coins, which are called "wen." I scooped them out of my former jailers' chests with satisfaction.
The exchange rate was very fluctuating, as liang were usually used either in very large deals or for paying taxes, but roughly speaking, one silver ingot equaled a thousand bronze coins. Not surprising that I found the silver pieces in the head warden's room. Vakhir, it seems, wasn't above stealing.
If we take something really important, since money is secondary for me right now... although pleasant. A great kung fu master, yet forced to rob corpses to pay for a bowl of rice. Irony.
...Besides the map, I could only find a clean sleeping bag and a backpack, which I simply refused...
It's not that I really need to sleep, but if I really want to, I can sleep on stones or the ground peacefully. After twenty years in a "shell" and sleeping on bare granite, any stone seemed like a feather bed.
Anyway, after thinking it over this way and that, I took several dozen wen and both liang with me, putting them in my pants pockets—in case I end up in some settlement, I'll have something to pay with; I'm not a bandit, but a future hero after all.
I walked up to the charred opening that was once a door; the icy wind hit my face, tousling my hair. I took a deep breath, letting the clean, frosty air of freedom into my lungs.
"Well, Godspeed," I say, smirking to myself at how unusual that phrase sounds for Tai Lung.
I stepped over the twisted metal and, without looking back, set off toward the nearest town...
Reaching the nearest village on foot is possible, except... "On foot." Ha. I spent twenty years in one place, chained to a rock. Moving that slowly now was absolutely not what I wanted!
The issue, by the way, wasn't just impatience. I was afraid that if I delayed, Po would manage to level up more than in the cartoon.
My knowledge of the canon was my main advantage and my main fear. I couldn't allow this panda time to transform from a clumsy fool into a full-fledged Dragon Warrior.
I really don't want to arrive in the Valley of Peace and face a huge chunk of muscle with black spots under his eyes instead of a lucky fat guy, screw that! So this was a race! A race against the destiny I knew.
A village with the sonorous name Han-Ya, which translates to Cold Cliff, was located not so far from my prison. I checked Vakhir's map: a couple of mountain ranges to the southwest. For an ordinary person—several dozen hours of trekking through snow or a bit less taking the road around.
Weighing all the pros and cons, I decided to run at maximum speed and slow down not far from the village itself so as not to scare the residents.
"Maximum speed." What did that mean for me now?
I stood on the edge of the cliff, by the ruins of Chorh-Gom. The icy wind whipped my hair.
I crouched, leg muscles tensed like steel springs, Chi swirling in my meridians, ready for release.
And I pushed off.
The world exploded.
Oh yes, this wasn't just running anymore, but some kind of flight mixed with teleportation! I rushed across the virgin snow, kicking up a giant plume of snow dust behind me. Trees didn't pass by—they flashed, merging into blurred green-brown streaks.
I leaped over gorges that an ordinary person would have had to bypass for hours, ran along sheer cliffs, driving claws into ice and stone, using Chi to create ledges for myself.
Twenty years! Twenty years I was chained! And now...
"I AM FREE!"
It was an intoxicating, wild, primal feeling. I laughed, and my laughter turned into a roar carried away by the wind. The body reveled in movement; every muscle, every particle sang! This was what it was born for!
I stopped only once, on the peak of a bare mountain, to get my bearings. The storm had long subsided, and the low winter sun was breaking through ragged clouds, flooding everything with cold, golden light.
Tai Lung's memory suggested: Chorh-Gom is the northernmost point of these mountains. The sun hung to my left, in the southeast, which meant my path lay to the southwest. Vakhir's map, which I unfolded again, only confirmed this. Han-Ya was in the gorge, beyond the next ridge.
I put away the map and ran again, but slower this time, descending closer to the forest.
I'm sure that during my twenty-year absence, many have managed to forget about me.
Well, to be precise, straight up "forget"—unlikely. "The Monster of Chorh-Gom," "Traitor of the Jade Palace," I am one hundred percent sure that a certain crazy old turtle has been scaring the residents with some legends about the return of the "corrupted evil Tai Lung" all this time. Brrr.
It seems something like that was mentioned in the canon too, so I was the local "boogeyman."
If I barge into the village at full speed right now, the panic will be such that the poor townspeople will simply flee into the forests, and I absolutely do not need that; how am I supposed to buy myself new clothes if the merchant runs away? I need not only clothes but also a more detailed map, news, and, if the gods are merciful, a bowl of hot noodles. I haven't eaten for twenty years!
Slowing down, deciding to first take a look at the village from a bird's-eye view, I began the descent from the last ridge and soon saw it.
Han-Ya. A few dozen houses clinging to the mountainside, and a thin wisp of smoke from chimneys stretching toward the grey sky.
Well, I didn't count on more, so it's a sin to complain, although, honestly speaking, I was even a little disappointed to see a completely ordinary small village; a small town would have been much better.