Chhota — Bheem Kung Fu Master

Bheem charged first, a friendly grin on his face. “Let’s see this Kung Fu!”

Bheem put down the bell. “Laddoo strength is real strength! Tell your prince to come here. I’ll show him how we wrestle in Dholakpur.”

“Strength without skill is just a pile of meat,” Prince Zian sneered. He turned to King Indravarma. “Your champion is a joke. Dholakpur is weak. From today, you will pay tribute to the Eastern Peak. One thousand gold coins every month.” chhota bheem kung fu master

The challenge was set: a simple duel in the palace courtyard.

Bheem closed his eyes. He felt the whisper of air against the needle. He remembered Liang’s words: “Be the river.” Bheem charged first, a friendly grin on his face

Bheem helped Zian to his feet. Then he turned to the crowd of Dholakpur, who had watched in stunned silence. King Indravarma’s jaw was on the floor.

It was Chutki who found the answer. She had been reading an old scroll in the palace library—a scroll from a traveling monk who had once visited the Eastern Peak. Tell your prince to come here

That night, the mood in Dholakpur was uneasy. Bheem dismissed the warnings. “Muscles always win! What is this ‘Chee’? A new type of pickle?”