Chapter 5: Beyond Kendo
In the afternoon, at the city's Children's Palace, inside the Musashi Kendo Dojo.
"This guy isn't even wearing protective gear, and from start to finish he's just been practicing a single downward strike for no less than a thousand times. Where did this rookie come from? How has nobody kicked him out yet?"
"Shut your mouth! You're new here and don't know the rules. Don't use your ignorance to make wild guesses about that lord!"
"Our Children's Palace Kendo Dojo has two special figures revered as the 'Children's Palace Sword Saint', and that is one of them! Both of those lords possess strength in kendo that surpasses the master himself!"
"Hiss! Didn't the master just pass his seventhdan examination this year? They're around his age and they're actually stronger than a seventh-dan master?!"
In a corner of the dojo, a teenager wearing a white-top, black-bottom kendo uniform and thick white socks was swinging his sword against the empty air. The space around him was completely vacant, with no one daring to approach.
To any beginner who had yet to cross the threshold of kendo, the boy's repetitive movements seemed excessively monotonous—simply drawing the sword and swinging it. Even a child who hadn't graduated from elementary school could train to execute this simple routine proficiently after some practice.
Yet, any of the "veterans" who had spent a fair amount of time at the kendo dojo knew very well that this was one of the boy's mandatory daily practices. Any attentive swordsman could tell that even after the boy swung his bamboo sword thousands of times, his breathing remained steady and long without the slightest sign of disorder. What was even more terrifying was that every single time he swung his blade, the angle, frequency, and force were terrifyingly precise, almost comparable to a pre-programmed mechanical process.
Furthermore, male practitioners generally kept the top and bottom of their kendo uniforms the same color. A white top paired with black bottoms was mostly worn in iaido, aikido, or by high-dan practitioners. Without the corresponding high-dan aura, wearing mismatched colors would only make one look very effeminate.
Yet even with such attire, on the boy it felt completely natural and unforced, blending harmoniously with his presence as if he had been born to dress this way.
"Mingfei, I heard you're going abroad too?" A middle-aged man holding a protective mask in one hand and carrying a bamboo sword in the other walked up to the teenager. The man had a friendly smile and looked to be around forty, his long, thin chin covered in bluish stubble.
"Should be in the next few days, Master. By the way, will you miss me after I'm gone?" Lu Mingfei bantered with the middle-aged man while continuing to swing his sword. Even multi-tasking failed to cause the slightest stutter in his movements.
Ten thousand repetitions every day until the sword moved as smoothly as his own arm had long since made it feel like a part of Lu Mingfei's body. Swinging the sword was naturally no different from breathing or blinking.
"You're no blushing maiden, what is there for me to miss when you leave?!" the middle-aged man scolded with a smile. "Pack up your things and get lost sooner rather than later. You and Chu Zihang—do you have any idea how people behind my back have been wagging their tongues all these years you two stayed at my dojo? People say the trainees who come here seeking a reputation are only coming for the names of those two Children's Palace Sword Saints, while the old master is getting on in years and is just a titular figure past his prime! Tell me, isn't that infuriating?"
"Which kid is so uncultured! You can speak carelessly, but can you talk nonsense like that?!" Lu Mingfei feigned righteous indignation, his words grand and stirring. "What do you mean the master is getting old and past his prime? It sounds as if the master was ever all that impressive when he was young!"
"You little brat!" The middle-aged man raised his bamboo sword as if to strike Lu Mingfei, but seeing that the latter wasn't the least bit frightened, he sheepishly lowered the weapon.
"Still, it's true. Compared to the two of you, wasn't I just a good-for-nothing when I was young? Who could have imagined that you didn't even start practicing kendo until you were fifteen, and in a mere three years you've already left me—an old fellow who has studied kendo for nearly thirty years—far behind!" The middle-aged man sighed deeply.
"Don't be like that. Whoever dares to say you're old, Master, I'll be the first to pick a fight with them! To win the title of seventh-dan in your forties means an eighth or ninth-dan is practically within arm's reach once you have a bit more seniority! The centenarian Sword Saint title is yours and yours alone, Master!" Lu Mingfei declared with towering boldness.
"You stinky brat, you're insulting me with clever phrasing!" The middle-aged man slapped Lu Mingfei on the head. "If Japanese kendo rules weren't so rigid, and seniority wasn't such a severe issue, wouldn't it be as easy as pie for you and Chu Zihang to snag a seventh or eighth-dan?"
"You must have felt pretty lonely after Chu Zihang left, too. Originally, he finished a full season of classes with me in elementary school and we lost touch, but three years ago you dragged him back here to practice with you. Back then, every time we had a duel, my little dump of a place was practically bursting at the seams with onlookers! By the way, which of you won more often?" the middle-aged man asked gossiping.
"Senior Brother won more. For the first year or so when we started learning kendo, Senior Brother won almost every time. Later on, I relied on luck to scrape by and win against Senior Brother a few times," Lu Mingfei said with a smile.
"That wasn't luck! There's no such thing as luck in a kendo duel! It's all about rock-solid strength and adaptable reflexes!" said the middle-aged man. "Actually, I'm quite curious about just how far your strength has reached now. Before you leave, are you interested in sparring with this old bone of mine?"
"Your students are all right here, Master. Aren't you afraid you won't be able to hold your head up in front of them later?" Lu Mingfei stopped swinging his sword, pointed at the hot-blooded young kendo students dressed entirely in black who were gazing this way from afar, and asked softly.
"Losing to our Children's Palace Sword Saint is nothing to be ashamed of!" the man laughed heartily. "Besides, you forget that you were also brought up by me. The higher your skill, the more it proves I'm a good teacher, and naturally, I as your teacher feel all the more gratified!"
"You're just hoping more people will sign up for your kendo classes," Lu Mingfei smiled, exposing the man's true motive.
With one final, fierce swing of his sword that caused the air to crackle like snapping bamboo, the boy sheathed his weapon and followed the man across the spotless hardwood floor to the center of the arena.
"Still not wearing your protective gear, Mingfei?" the man asked softly.
"Master, you know I didn't pick up the sword because I yearned for Japanese kendo. On the contrary, I detest all the tedious red tape within it," Lu Mingfei said with a solemn expression, shaking his head as he lowered his voice. "That thin mask can't block an enemy's killing intent at the threshold of life and death, nor can it protect the people who matter."
The onlookers cheered loudly, shouting the name of the "Children's Palace Sword Saint", raising their arms and roaring applause for the boy's rebellious yet heroic remarks.
Only the middle-aged man heard the flashing, sword-like sharpness hidden within Lu Mingfei's tone.
In the center of the ring, the two bowed to each other at a ninety-degree angle. Even though the gaze in the middle-aged man's eyes beneath his protective gear was as deep as the ocean, he still could not see through the eighteen-year-old boy in the prime of his youth standing opposite him.
Mingfei, are you going to face situations that are this dangerous in the future? A sword meant for killing—what kind of old grievances are really buried inside your youthful heart? That being the case, as your guide in kendo, I am more than willing to become the very first stepping stone on your path above kendo!
The tips of their swords crossed. Even though these were merely two bamboo swords in a standoff, people could already smell the reek of blood in the wind rushing toward them.
The middle-aged man's eyes swept up and down, searching bitterly like radar before locking onto that single flaw that would decide the outcome.
Yet Lu Mingfei, standing across from him, did not reveal the slightest trace of a flaw. He stood lofty and motionless yet possessed an overwhelming presence, like a lion.