POV Tai Lung
"So, I'm the Dragon Warrior now, right?" A predatory smirk spreads across my face as I feel a surge of pure ecstasy deep within.
"Yes, you are the Dragon Warrior now," Po nods, looking at the setting sun with a hint of sadness.
"Wonderful… Now take your scroll back," I exhale in relief, carelessly tossing the gold-and-red tube toward the panda. "The title is a bit too low-brow for a legend like me."
"Huh?" the brand-new Dragon Warrior stares at me in shock. "Whoops!" He starts fumbling comically, trying to catch the scroll as it bounces off his paws like a living thing. It only lasts a couple of seconds, but it looks hilarious. Finally, clutching the artifact to his chest, he looks at me blankly. "What do you mean? Why did you give it back? I handed it to you myself..."
"Like I said: not my level. I am far above some 'Dragon Warrior' title dreamed up by Oogway," I repeat, rolling my eyes.
Back when I first tasted freedom after escaping Chorh-Gom, I made a deal with what I considered the "original Tai Lung." I swore to him I'd get this cursed title, and for the longest time, the idea possessed me—I couldn't think of anything else! Even the shock of transmigration and being in another world took a backseat to this manic desire for the scroll.
But the moment my fingers closed around it, and this naive black-and-white bear gave it to me voluntarily, without coercion… the obsession vanished.
I felt something inside me—that fierce, resentful, and let's be honest, incredibly infantile part of me—finally calm down and dissolve.
I'm not sure what triggered it—getting the scroll or Po's words. Tai Lung didn't want a piece of paper; he wanted recognition. He wanted to be seen as worthy. And the irony is that it wasn't his master or that cryptic old turtle who validated him, but a simple cook who became the Dragon Warrior by accident.
The oath is fulfilled. The title formally passed to me, I got what I came for, and what I do with it now is my business, not the remnants of a "grown-up child's" consciousness.
I have no intention of lugging around a golden piece of parchment that is essentially a cheap philosophical trick with a reflective surface. I know the secret of the Dragon Scroll, and that "feeling of great power" is just a self-delusion I refuse to entertain.
I don't need confirmation from a dead, meddling turtle to know who I am.
I am Tai Lung. A Kung Fu Legend. Period!
Po was still staring at me, blinking as he tried to process everything.
"So… then why did you come to the Valley of Peace?" the Dragon Warrior finally asked.
"I was coming home, isn't it obvious?" I huff. "And another thing… listen, would you mind talking… candidly?" I frown slightly, mulling over the ideas forming in my head.
"Candidly?" Po frowned back. "I mean… I already…" He gestured vaguely, then looked at the scroll and, after a moment's hesitation, tucked it into his wide trouser pocket.
"Then listen carefully, Po, and I'm asking you—don't interrupt. I've noticed how much you love doing that..."
In my past life, I only watched the first three movies. I remember the first well, the second one less so, and of the third, I only recall the main villain and his army of jade warriors. I knew nothing about the fourth, except for a couple of clips I saw on TikTok, but one scene stuck with me: Tai Lung fights some lizards, wins, but then the Chameleon shoots her tongue out, attaches it to his forehead, and drains all his strength and skills.
The scene was… telling. I have absolutely no desire to let that happen to me, so I need to power up the panda so he can handle things himself—or at least be a pillar of support rather than a liability.
Looking at Po now, I can see the canon has gone off the rails—Po wouldn't survive a single serious attack from me. If I hadn't transmigrated or "remembered my past life," the original Tai Lung would have likely killed Shifu and the panda and taken the scroll by force.
"Alright," the Dragon Warrior frowned even harder, which looked quite comical. I've noticed he almost always looks "comical."
"No offense, but right now, you're no match for me. Strong Kung Fu masters can assess others at a glance—their Chi, mastery, control, and physical stats. I see you're at a student level, which isn't exactly the dream for a Dragon Warrior. So, I'm offering my help. Shifu is a great master, but because of his past traumas, he simply can't master Chi. At least not right now. I, however, command Chi, and I'm ready to teach you everything—if you can awaken it yourself."
"I…" Po sighed. "I wouldn't want to insult Master Shifu. I'm not sure how he'd take it, and… why do you think I can even master Chi?"
"The path of Kung Fu is the path of knowing. Knowing yourself and the world, which is why we are often called 'walkers of the Heavenly Path'..." I started my lecture, only to be stopped by the panda waving his hand. To his credit, he stayed silent. "What?"
"I've heard all that from Master Shifu. I'm more worried about why I should be able to master Chi..."
"Fine..." I sigh. "Let's skip the lecture. To master Chi, you must understand and accept your destiny. You must clear your mind of the bad things and find inner peace."
"Sounds cool! But how do I find this inner peace?"
"Every master must find their own way. Some prefer to meditate in a cave for fifty years, forgetting about food and water..."
At that moment, Po's stomach let out a long (dragon-like) roar. He embarrassedly covered it with his hand.
"Is there… another way?"
"We ate thirty minutes ago… Ugh, fine..." I don't know where the calories go, but Po wasn't fat in a soft way—it's one of the universe's mysteries. "Others go through pain and suffering—like me. Every day was hell for me back then—I couldn't sleep, eat, or drink. Shifu made me fight different masters from other temples, breaking only for more training. This went on for three days and three nights, and at the very end, the Master himself came out and beat me into the ground." I close my eyes, drifting into the memory.
"Oh! I've heard that story!" Po got excited. "You defeated a hundred of the strongest young masters from all over China! That's when the whole world heard of Tai Lung!"
"It was then, lying in the courtyard—beaten and humiliated—that I found inner peace…"
"Wait, what? Find inner peace while being beaten up?"
"Po, I asked you not to interrupt," my growl made the panda nod like a bobblehead and cover his mouth with both hands. "It wasn't when I finally lost. It was when the silent spectators and masters erupted in cheers, chanting my name. I realized the problem was me—that I demanded too much of myself, and even beaten, I remained one of the strongest masters. My talent surpassed everyone around me."
"Sounds a bit… self-centered," the panda whispered, but seeing my look, he quickly pivoted. "Um, can we do it without the physical trauma? I mean, I don't mind a scrap, but fighting for three days and nights? Why bother people with my training?"
"Oh, Shifu must have had a hard time with you..."
"Understatement of the century, yeah," the Dragon Warrior nodded importantly.
"My point is that finding Chi is individual. You have to figure out how to do it. I'm grateful to Shifu for what he did—pushing me to physical and psychological exhaustion before striking specific meridians to cause incredible pain. It sounds bad, but it's one of the most universal, safe, and fastest ways known to the Jade Palace."
"Still… anything less intense?"
"Only the options I mentioned," I shrug. "There is one more—forced awakening. It's universal and takes about twenty minutes..."
"Whoa! Why hasn't Master Shifu used that to awaken his Chi?"
"Because it's a death sentence. Not only do three out of five masters die, but it also strictly caps your Chi reserves and potential. It savagely tears through your natural barriers, making such a 'master' extremely vulnerable to foreign Chi. Imagine that instead of slowly stretching a vessel, you pump molten lead into it under pressure. Your meridians lose elasticity, they scar, and your Dantian—the 'Ocean of Chi' in your lower abdomen—simply turns to glass. It can no longer expand or store more energy than you received at the moment of awakening."
At that moment, Crane interrupted us. He glided down from the sky and landed a couple of meters away. He didn't seem in a rush; his wings moved rhythmically. Likely, the Five (or Shifu) sent him to check if I'd tossed their precious Chosen One off the cliff.
"Um… hello again," Crane adjusted his hat and shifted nervously. "Is everything… okay here? We just thought… well… it's sunset, getting chilly."
"Everything's great, Crane!" Po chirped. "Tai Lung is telling me about Chi! Can you believe it? He agreed to teach me!"
Crane's eyes bulged as he looked from the beaming panda to me. I just gave a lazy nod.
"Teach? You?" the feathered warrior asked, clearly doubting my sanity. "Chi?"
"Exactly!" Po turned back to me, his eyes burning with enthusiasm. "By the way, you mentioned the… Dantian. The 'Ocean of Chi' in the belly, right?"
"Yes," I confirmed. "It's the energy center, the reservoir where life force is stored and generated."
Po slapped his impressive gut, which wobbled from the impact.
"Ha! Then based on my size, I don't just have a sea in there—I've got a whole ocean! Or better yet—the Bottomless Pit of Might!"
"More like the Dumpling-Devouring Volcanic Crater," I corrected dryly. "But body size can indeed influence reservoir volume, if used correctly."
Po giggled but turned serious again. "So, really… no easy way? At all? Either decades of meditation or the deadly 'forced awakening'?"
I glanced at Crane, who was eavesdropping while pretending to admire the view, and smirked.
"To help you make the right choice, let me explain a bit more about the forced method."
"Oh, I already got that it sucks," Po's ears perked up.
"This method was refined and is often used in the Imperial Army to create elite squads," I began, watching Crane's face drop. Apparently, Shifu hadn't told them this. "It's a modified, 'neutered' version of forced awakening using special needles and alchemical stimulants. The risk of death is minimal—one in a hundred—and training takes no more than a month."
"Whoa!" Po cheered. "So maybe…"
"But," I raised a finger. "It comes at a price. The needles open the channels, but the stimulants 'cement' them. You can use Chi to enhance strikes, but that's it. You will never be able to heal, never use subtle techniques, and your reservoir will never grow. You'll be stronger than a common soldier, but forever weaker than any true master." I paused. "No one calls these people masters, Po. They are just disposable meat thrown at real masters." I looked at Crane, who was listening with his beak open. I hope he relays this clearly to the rest of the Five. "The choice is yours, Dragon Warrior. Quick results and mediocrity, or hard work and reaching for the ideal. Personally, I think the only thing you should do quickly is catch fleas. Or, as they say…" I smiled predatorily at our feathered friend. "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, but a hand in the bird is just a mess..."
Crane choked on air and instinctively covered his back with his wings, taking a step back.
"Um… very… wise saying," he wheezed. "But maybe let's leave the birds alone?"
Po looked at us, then at the sunset.
"No," he said firmly. "I don't want to be disposable, and I don't want to destroy my potential. If I'm going to be the Dragon Warrior, I'm going to be the real deal! I'm ready for the hard road."
"Good choice," I nodded. "Then I expect total dedication during Shifu's training."
"Hey, I'm already trying!" Po cried, then added seriously: "And thanks for the warning. I'll remember that."
"Alright, let's go. We've stayed here long enough…"
In the Jade Palace
"Master, how are you?" An anxious Tigress was treating Shifu's wounds. While he didn't feel too bad, his natural regeneration wasn't what it used to be due to his age.
"Don't worry, Tigress. Thanks to you and Viper, I'll be back on my feet tomorrow." Shifu looked at his student, his mind lost in the past. His constant self-doubt had always been the hurdle to his own Chi awakening. He had made progress when he had a son, but it all collapsed when he "fell."
He looked at Tigress's focused face, her amber eyes full of worry, and how gently her strong hands—hands that could crush stone—applied the bandages.
He was hit by a bitter realization.
He lost Tai Lung because he loved him too much and too blindly, indulging his pride. But fearing that pain, he chose to lock his heart. He raised Tigress and the others with such strictness that he never gave them even a fraction of the warmth he gave his first student.
"Tigress…" he called softly, catching her hand.
She froze, looking at him in surprise. "Yes, Master?"
"Forgive me."
"For what, Master?" She truly didn't understand. "It's our fault. we got carried away and didn't warn you, we left you alone against…"
"No," Shifu shook his head. "Forgive me for being so cold to you all these years. I was afraid. Afraid that if I got close to anyone again, I'd repeat the same mistake. I tried to make you a warrior, but I forgot that you, like any child, needed more than just discipline…"
Silence hung in the room. Tigress looked down, her shoulders trembling, but she quickly composed herself.
"You gave me a home, Master," she said firmly, meeting his eyes. "You gave me a purpose and taught me everything I know. If not for you, I'd still be nobody in that orphanage, alone because of my strength. I'm grateful for everything. You are my Master. And my father… no matter how strict you were."
Shifu smiled weakly, a smile full of sadness and gratitude.
"Thank you, Tigress. Now go, you need rest. Tomorrow will be a difficult day… I have much to discuss with our new 'guest.'"
Tigress bowed and quietly left the room.
Shifu was alone again. He stared at the ceiling, seeing the face of the young Tai Lung with burning eyes, and the current one, scarred in soul and body, who had spared him today.
A single tear rolled down his cheek.
"Tai Lung…" he whispered into the void. "Could I have helped you then? Could I have stopped the madness without going against my Master's words? If I had stood up for you before Oogway… would you be here now, by my side?"
There was no answer.
In the hallway, leaning against the door, stood Tigress. Her heart clenched. She had always known Tai Lung was special to Shifu, but hearing this raw despair in her usually composed teacher's voice was unbearable.
She looked at the door, her amber eyes igniting with resolve.
She needed to hear the truth, not from legends or dry stories, but from the source itself!
Tigress turned and vanished like a silent shadow, heading toward the guest quarters…