‘There are many ways to interpret such revelations,’ said Sensei Yamada, after some contemplation. ‘Its true meaning will be hidden under the many layers of your mind, and only you will be able to unwrap them all. You need to find the key that unlocks the secret.’

Jack was profoundly disappointed. He had hoped the old monk would have been able to tell him the answer, but Sensei Yamada was being as obscure as ever.

‘Perhaps the key is chō-geri…’ murmured Yamada, more to himself than to Jack.

‘Chō-geri?’ prompted Jack, suddenly hopeful.

‘Yes, Chō-geri. Sometimes the way through to understanding the mind is through the body. Your vision contained a butterfly. Its movements evaded the demon. Perhaps Chō-geri will enlighten you further.’

‘So where do I find the Chō-geri?’

‘It is not a matter of “where”, Jack-kun. It is a matter of “how” to find it. Chō-geri is an ancient Chinese martial arts technique lost in time. It is named the “Butterfly Kick” because it is a flying kick in which all the limbs are extended in a position similar to that of a butterfly’s wings in flight. It’s a highly advanced manoeuvre that will cut a swath through any attack. Chō-geri is rumoured to be indefensible.’

‘So why tell me about the key if no one knows it?’ said Jack, getting frustrated with Yamada’s continual enigmas.

‘I didn’t say no one,’ he replied, then studied Jack for a long time. Jack felt distinctly uncomfortable, as if the sensei was somehow peering into his soul.

‘I could teach you it,’ he said eventually, ‘but it may be far beyond your abilities.’

‘B-but…’ stuttered Jack in disbelief. ‘Pardon my disrespect, Sensei, but aren’t you too old for martial arts?’

‘Oh, the blindness of youth,’ said Yamada, getting to his feet with the help of his walking stick.

Jack was about to apologize profusely when, without warning, Sensei Yamada let go of the stick and sprang into the air.

The old man’s torso twisted, his arms swung in an arc and both his legs shot out, striking high over Jack’s head. Sensei Yamada rotated all the way round before landing lightly back upon his dais.

Jack sat open-mouthed as Sensei Yamada nonchalantly readjusted his kimono, picked up his walking stick and prepared to depart.

‘How on earth did you do that? How could you?’ stammered Jack, flabbergasted at the old man’s incomprehensible agility.

‘Never judge a sword by its saya. I am a monk, Jack-kun. But what am I?’ he said cryptically, before blowing out the candles and shuffling off into the darkness.

The remaining trails of incense smoke spiralled like ghosts into the air and he was gone.

Jack left the Buddha Hall in a daze, astounded and perplexed by the old monk who had flown through the air with the grace of a butterfly, then left on a riddle.