Huan grunted and groaned, trying to shift the weight of one week's “provisions” into something that could pass for comfort. The panda had been overjoyed when she received the offer of training under Master Yang, the greatest human martial arts master of the era, but after a gruelling four months, she didn't even have a single Ki blast under her belt. “How can one tiny man drink three cases of rice wine in a month's time?” Huan thought to herself, lumbering up the chiselled stairway that led up the mountainside. She had been prepared to make sacrifices in the face of mastering the art, but this was bordering on servitude!
After what seemed like an eternity, Huan arrived at the solitary dojo, burrowed into the mountain's peak. She slid open the door and felt the rush of warm air against her snow-covered fur.
Master Yang greeted her. “Ah, you are getting much faster at scaling those pesky stairs! Excellent!”
He helped Huan unload, but only so much as to make sure the cases remained unharmed. Within seconds, a bottle was already open in his hands.
“Master Yang.” Huan kept a respectful but firm tone. “While I'm very grateful for this opportunity to learn under such an esteemed master as yourself, I have something to ask.”
Master Yang ceased his chugging to look up at Huan with a bemused look. “Oh? And what is it you wish to ask?”
“Well, I have been here for almost five months now, Master, and in that time I have trained under you a grand total of five times. Now, in that same time frame, I have scaled up and down this mountain over thirty-six times.” Huan held her paws high and low. “So, as you can see, there's quite the discrepancy going on here...”
Master Yang brought the bottle back to his lips for another sip, then held out a wizened finger. “Young one, your mind is like a messy room; how can I bring in anything new without cluttering it further?”
He brought his free hand to his beard, whisking his hand through the whitened hairs. “But I think you might be ready for the 'Room of Ghosts'.” The old man let out a soft, semi-drunken chuckle.
“The 'Room of Ghosts'?” Huan repeated. She had been a little worried she had offended Master Yang, but now she was being offered something that sounded serious indeed!
“Yes,” Yang answered back. “It is a rigorous meditation exercise that tests the absolute limits of your patience. I am very selective in whom I allow to undertake this trial, and now, my delicate dumpling, I pass that honor onto you.”
Huan closed her paws together and offered a humble bow. “I am honored you would gift me such a privilege, Master Yang. Can you explain what this meditation involves? The name seems to imply some form of special room.”
“Indeed it does, my young dumpling, a corner room on the upper level to be exact. It's the spiritual hot spot of this place.” Master Yang gestured to the ceiling.
Huan gazed at the ceiling before looking back at the old man. “If I'm not mistaken, wouldn't that place the 'Room of Ghosts' in your bedroom?”
Master Yang shook his head and said, “Not quite; it's a side room, formerly a closest of sorts, before I realized the spiritual presence that resided within.”
Huan brushed aside her momentary doubts. “So, shall I begin this trial immediately?”
Master Yang eyed the contents of his bottle before settling his sight back on the panda. “Yes, now seems like an excellent time.”
The pair ascended to the top floor of the dojo, into Master Yang's bedchamber. There he slid open the door to the legendary “Room of Ghosts”, which gave off the impression of a dusty unfurnished room, for the time being. Master Yang borrowed a spare pillow and placed it in the center of the room.
“The epicenter is right here, oh yes, and you'll need this.” Master Yang pulled a silk strap from his coat.
“A headband? With respect, Master, I don't think I'll be exerting myself with meditation.”
“No, no, this is a blindfold; it's the most important step of the 'Room of Ghosts'. The spirits are a devious yet shy bunch and won't show themselves if they think there's a chance they might be seen. However, once the blindfold is secured, they'll begin trying everything in their power to distract, even torment you!”
Huan gulped. “So that's what you meant by a test of patience. If I know anything about spirits, then this is definitely the ultimate test of that.”
“That it is, my dear, that it is. Now, would you be so kind as to make yourself comfortable?” Master Yang patted the velvet cushion with his foot. “I'll fix your blindfold myself, and don't worry, I'll place one on myself afterwards.” Huan followed as instructed, plopping down on the pillow with an audible thud.
“Oh yes, and I'd remove that gown of yours; the spirits tend to be quite... intrusive at times; it's for the best if you give them less to work with.”
Huan felt a little flustered by the request, but she couldn't fault the logic. She had heard many accounts of spirits being quite illicit in their actions. She untied her belt and slid the ornate piece of clothing off to the floor, leaving her fur-covered body in nothing but her silken undergarments.
The entire time, Master Yang's gaze never left her; if she didn't know any better, she could swear he was taking her in.
“Yes, very good.” Master Yang said. He placed the blindfold across her eyes and tied it in place.
“Now, to place my own on.” Master Yang fixed no additional blindfold to himself, instead, he kneeled behind the stout panda, holding back his alcohol-fueled giggles at the on-going success of his perverted plan.
“There we are, we are ready to proceed. Now then, young dumpling, remember to focused on your meditation, if the... ahem, 'spirits' begin to get too rambunctious, I'll send them away myself.” Master Yang managed to keep his sincere tone, despite knowing full well the only spirit in this room was his half-finished bottle.
“That's good to hear, Master Yang.” Huan replied, unaware of the perversions she was about to endure...