Master Po and the 100 Blossoms

THE TRUE DIGLET

Click the image to change your avatar.
Atop Wudan In the year 109, Master Po took me to the cliff's edge.

"The first lesson in Zen is about mortality," he said.

"When you reach my level of power, you know exactly when you will die."

He produced a handful of pink apple blossoms from his robe and threw them into the wind - they floated upon the breeze, scattering into the valley two miles below.

"Retrieve every last blossom.

And when you have picked up the very last one, you will know that I have passed to the next life."

I bowed and shed a tear.

Then began my walk down the mountain.

I found the first blossom two weeks later.

Laying in a rock pool, bright pink contrasting violet blue.

I lived in the wilderness, hunting wolves with handmade weapons, and spent every waking hour searching for the blossoms.

I had no desire to hasten his passing, yet I understood to always obey.

After 21 years, I had found 99 of the 100 blossoms.

I had walked over 3000 miles through wilderness.

The mountain winds had blown them far and wide.

I spent another 60 years, looking for the final piece.

I would meditate at night to keep frustration at bay and spend my days sifting through dirt,

climbing trees and swimming lakes - knowing the blossom could be anywhere.

The final blossom eluded me.

I dreamt of it. I hallucinated. I saw it permanently in my mind, but could never find it.

And then... 81 years after first descending from the mountain, I came across a large flat rock.

Upon it was the perfect imprint of an apple blossom.

The piece must have landed here many years ago, and the blistering sun had all but obliterated it - leaving nothing but the perfect print on hard stone.

I was furious.

So many years wasted. Elements endured.

And it's now clear, I could never complete the task.

I returned to Wudan with 99 blossoms to find Po meditating.

I knelt before him and began to cry through frustration.

"I have failed. I did not move quickly enough for the sun. I will never have all of the blossoms."

He smiled and replied. "Then I will never die."



Such is the way of Wudan.
 
"By seeking the final blossom," Po continued, "you've learned the nature of life, of time, of the self. You’ve touched the essence of Zen. The blossom was never lost. It was always within you."

His words sank into me like stones into a deep pond. The ripples of understanding spreading slowly. And in that moment, I saw the truth. I realized that Po had not been testing my patience or endurance, but my ability to see beyond the physical world—to understand the eternal in the fleeting, the infinite in the small.

Po smiled at me one last time, his eyes full of a wisdom that transcended life itself. He closed them, and I watched as his body became still, his breath slowing until it stopped altogether. The wind picked up, carrying the scent of apple blossoms through the air, and I knew that the final lesson had been taught.

Po had passed on, not because I found the last blossom, but because I no longer needed to. I had become the blossom, the rock, the mountain, the wind.

Such is the way of Wudan.
 
After mastering Wudan, I descended from the mountain.

The only way back to civilization was to cross the Xing Gou river. This river had a single bridge. A bottleneck. And this bridge had a small town surrounding it.

A town occupied solely by pirates, bandits and thieves, who would harass tax and rob anybody who had to use it. I had no choice but to walk through them.

By now, my abilities were well known. I was adept number 1. Although Wudan had very few visitors, stories of the adepts' achievements somehow permeated the outside world.

Carried by the winds themselves. I intended to pass through the town peacefully, relying on my reputation.

Yet, as I approached the local tavern, a veteran warrior blocked my path. "I do not fear you! I have been to war 5000 times and I still stand.

I am ferocious, when I attack - and no matter how much you hurt me, I will keep coming forward!!" Eyes locked, in the center square - a crowd had now gathered around us.

"When you knock me down, I WILL GET UP!" he screamed.

"When you strike me, I will continue to FIGHT!" At this he drew his sword.

I raised my hand with a single finger pointing towards the sky - as Po had done many times before to command silence.

"Brother. Listen to your words. You have already said, I will hurt you. You have already said, I will strike you. You have already said, I will knock you down. You know the future. Apologize to me."

He paused. His eyes twitched as he was thinking. He saw the crowd around him, jeering him on to attack a student of Wudan. His sword was already drawn, I was only a meter in front of him.

His eyes darted back and forth as he contemplated what to do - Attack? Apologize? By now the crowd was screaming. Urging him to fight.

After a second, he made a decision. He swung his sword. As his neck snapped, and his body fell lifelessly to the ground, there was a loud moan of disappointment amongst the onlookers.

"Awwwwww..." The show was over. Not a single bandit bothered to check or show care for his body, they simply left him in the square to be eaten by the birds.

They were so interested in the prospect of his success. And absolutely uninterested in his failure.

Of course, the remaining bandits hurriedly afforded me safe access to the bridge. This was the first life of many I would take on my journey.

Such is The Way Of Wudan
 
Twice a year myself and Master Po would travel to a haunted field.

A field of broken dirt. Shallow graves. This place was reserved for those warriors which did not deserve rest. Murderers, cowards. Those, who killed without honor.

Eternal peace was stolen from them, and their spirits suffered the eternal damnation of consciousness - upon a muddy field, precisely 1000 footsteps from the Gates of Wudan.

They could not leave. They could not die. They could only live. Mortals did not visit this place. The spirits knew nothing but war their entire lives, they would engage instantly.

They aimed to kill you. Upon haunted ground. To force you to endure their fate alongside them.

However - twice a year, myself and Master Po would walk the 1000 steps and engage in combat. Lethal sparring, with eternal consequences.

They would not die. So the aim was simply to disable them, render them combat ineffective. Leave them in the cold to heal.

Ready for the next massacre. Master Po would disable them at will, abolishing hundreds with fast strikes and unorthodox technique.

I could hold my own against one or two, but my skills had not yet matured.

In the middle of combat, I grew frustrated and how difficult it was for me. Too many close calls. Too many mistakes. It simply took me too long for each victory.

I needed more power.

Hurriedly, as I ripped the throat from a spirit - I shouted: "Master!! Please. I need power. Show me the most devastating move you know!"

Po, while crushing the skull of a downed opponent, replied: "You could never execute it. You're weak."

This bothered me. I did not want my Master to think I was weak. As I continued to battle I attempted to show Master that I was strong. That I COULD execute any move he taught me.

Through anger, my Kagi Tsuki grew wild and inaccurate, my Kiai rushed. Suddenly, a Dragon kick knocked me to the ground. I spun and raised my hands to protect my face.

I saw the sword raised, my decapitation imminent. I froze. Master's flawlessly Shuto Uchi ripped the spirit's arms from his body before he could take my life.

Armless, the spirit screamed. Feeling real pain. Then Po's fingers ripped his eyes from his skull. Blind and in agony, yet unable to die, he ran screaming into the darkness.

At this, I was dragged to my feet, and we fled the field. Leaving a trail of destruction behind us. The ghosts were in pieces.

The battle was over. The walk back to Wudan was embarrassing. I was adept number 1.

And yet, I failed. I died. And he saved me. To be saved by Po was an honor, he had a habit of simply letting people die for their mistakes, but I didn't feel honor. I felt shame.

I expected more of myself. I was disappointed. I needed to learn more.

I asked: "Master, if I can not execute your most powerful move, will you at least show it to me?" Staring straight ahead.

He whispered... "I've shown you already. Using only my tongue, I broke your Zen."



Such is the Way of Wudan.
 
Back
Top