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Shifu had mourned his son long before he had been killed by the Dragon Warrior. He felt dirty for doing so at the time, shedding tears for the monster he’d created who out of pure rage destroyed the valley. It felt like this secret he couldn’t share, kept hidden within the confines of his bedroom.
He had been wrapped in bandages to fix the broken ribs from his fall in the first attempt to take down Tai Lung, with Oogway away to meditate while Tai Lung, apprehended, was headed to Chorhgum Prison for the rest of his life. Shifu allowed himself, the secret privacy of the dormitories, to break down.
The tears that came forth were heavy and thick, soaking his blankets and mattress. He heaved and coughed through the lump that formed in his throat, not caring if he was too loud or if his ribs protested. He felt so stupid for not foreseeing this outcome. Was Tai Lung not his son? Did he truly not know him well enough to predict his emotions or actions? Or was it that he refused to see beyond what he wanted to, beyond the small boy he’d once been.
The face of Tai Lung as a cub flashed in his mind, causing a new wave of sadness to come over him. Where had he gone wrong in his upbringing? Sure, Shifu might have focused too hard on his son’s glories and accomplishments, but what parent wouldn’t if they were certain that their child was destined for greatness? In his hubris, he’d foolishly pushed and pushed this narrative onto his son that it was longer speculation but fact. Now it was too late to correct it. His son was gone.
Shifu had cried into the night, and in the morning he vowed to never make the same mistake. If were take on students, their training would focus on protecting the citizens of the valley, not one of personal gain or a greater destiny.
Now, decades later, the same emotions of mourning bubbled up to the surface. During the course of the last twenty-something years, most of Shifu’s feelings toward Tai Lung had moved to contempt and anger, and while Po’s defeat of this monster allowed him to finally unlock inner peace, a small part of him still was uneasy.
After he was fixed up and allowed to retire to his chamber, Shifu meditated long and hard. He found himself crying, neither tears of joy or sadness, but regret. Yes, overall he was glad that the valley was safe from any further destruction and chaos, and yes, the Dragon Warrior had fulfilled the beginning of his destiny and brought peace. But what could things have been had he seen the signs or had the will to stop Tai Lung all those years ago? Shifu tried to channel the same wisdom as Oogway in his search for an answer, but as usual there was only the lingering ‘what if’.
He let himself cry until he could not anymore. His son, his real son, died many years ago. He mourned the boy his son had been and the monster he had become. Finally, he could reach true inner peace.