The old monk walks slowly down the torch lit halls of the darkened
monastery. Lightning flashes through one of the glassless windows as a
heavy rain falls in sheets at an angle. The old monk has been at the
monastery for some twenty odd winters and feels every ounce of it in his old
bones. Oh, what a night, what a night indeed. First the fireplace goes
damp from the rain, then the children are scared from the lightning and
thunder. The old man muses to himself whilst contemplating his life
The old monk hears a strange sound amidst the turmoil of the raging storm
just outside the thick walls. What is that I wonder? It sounds like a
baby. The old monk quickens his pace as he walks to the entrance hall and
opens the door. A baby boy has been left at the doorstep of the monastery
with nothing but a cloth wrapped around his waist. Oh, your poor child,
lets get you warm and fed before you catch your death. And with that, the
old monk brought in the baby boy and raised him amidst the other children
that had been abandoned over the years.
(17 years after)
Sheng! The very old monk yells and the sound reverberates off the monastery
walls. Coming master! Sheng replies. He is now a man of young age, though
with the training received he has adapted well to the rigorous lifestyle of
a monk. Sheng, Ive told you countless times before. You cannot keep
beating your siblings up so badly. Look at the poor lad, he can barely
stand! With the words of admonishment, Sheng blinks slowly, attempting to
learn the lesson being taught.
But master, he is weaker than I. Is the antelope not food for the lion?
Only the strong survive, master, and I am of the Way. Sheng looks to his
wizened master with a hint of defiance. You are not of the Way, Sheng! You
will never be of the Way if you cannot obtain inner peace. The very old
monk shakes his head disappointingly, wondering why he had taken this child
in all those years ago.
You are wrong. I hold inner peace within and it is when the pain of others
is felt that I find enlightenment. I AM of the Way. Anger clouds Shengs
eyes as he slowly walks to the very old monk who had taken him in so long
ago, an aura of darkness permeates the air.
Slightly angled dark eyes stare out from beneath a set of wispy and
elongated eyebrows. His head is shaven clean except for a tail located at
the back of his head which has been braided and falls over his right
shoulder. Upon his forehead are six dots separated into two vertical
columns and seem to be a permanent fixture on his person. Stern crimson
lips sit just above a strong and angular jawline. His long nose is the only
thing out of proportion to the rest of his features and it is apparent that
it has been broken on several different occasions. His body is strong and
lithe, with muscle and sinew rippling hypnotically beneath his olive skin.