Chapter 3 - THE HANDKERCHIEF OF LOVEBIRDS

1

Sole Light sighed in self-reproach. "Still, the root of the problem lies with me. I was a minor king of a small fiefdom, and, like all overlords, I had my share of consorts and beauties in my private palace, though mine was by no means on as grand a scale as the Song Emperor's …

"Such a sin of mine, that was. My fascination with martial pursuits meant that I was rarely in the company of women. Days would often pass by without my setting eyes on the Queen. As for the rest of the consorts, I was rarely intimate with any of them." The monk looked up at his disciples. "I have kept this from you all these years, but you shall learn the whole truth today."

So they are as ignorant as we are, Lotus said to herself.

"My consorts often watched me working on my kung fu. Some found it riveting and entreated me to teach them. Sometimes, I obliged, since martial-arts training is beneficial to one's health. There was one, Consort Liu, who was particularly gifted. Though she was tender in years, she was focused, practicing all day, and showed vast improvement in very little time.

"It was all fated to come to this. On one of his explorations, Brother Zhou chanced upon her training in the garden. Now, Brother Zhou lived and breathed the martial arts. And, given his childlike naivete, it did not occur to him to maintain the proper distance between a man and a woman. He approached her and asked to spar with her. As you know, Brother Zhou was taught by Immortal Double Sun himself. A beginner like her did not stand a chance—"

"Oh dear, did he hurt her?" Lotus interjected.

"No, he didn't, but he locked her acupoints after a couple of moves and demanded to know whether she accepted her subjugation. Of course, she yielded. How could a newcomer to the martial arts not be enthralled by Brother Zhou's prowess?

"In the flush of his triumph, Brother Zhou unbound her and chattered away about the mysteries of pressure-point locking—the very skill she had been beseeching me to share with her. It goes without saying that I had refused. What might happen if I taught such an advanced method of control to the ladies in my private palace? So she seized her chance and bowed to Brother Zhou, hoping he would grant her that knowledge."

Lotus giggled. "It would tickle the Old Urchin to be so honored."

"You know Brother Zhou?"

"We're old friends. He lived on Peach Blossom Island for more than a decade—and he didn't leave once."

"What would make someone of his temperament remain in one place for so long?"

"He was locked up by Papa, but he's free now."

"I see." Sole Light nodded. "How is his health?"

"Oh, he's in rude health, but he does get more and more unhinged with age." She chuckled into her hand, then pointed at Guo Jing. "The Hoary Urchin swore brotherhood with him."

The idea of this outlandish fraternity brought a smile to the monk's somber face. "The teaching of pressure-point locking has always been guided by one unspoken rule, as ancient as the art itself. It should never be passed between a man and a woman, unless it is from father to daughter, from mother to son or from husband to wife. To share the knowledge with those of the opposite sex without blood or familial ties is a great taboo—"

"Why?" Lotus cut him off.

"I am sure you are familiar with Mencius's wise words: 'A man and a woman should not touch when giving or receiving gifts.' To learn this art, you have to touch every single pressure point on the other person's body with your hands—"

"Didn't you do just that with me?"

Irritated by her frivolous interruptions, the fisher and the farmer shot her a hostile look.

"What? Can't I ask a question?" she glowered.

"Pay them no heed. It was different—you were grievously injured."

"If you say so. What happened next?"

"So, Brother Zhou started to teach her in earnest. He was in his hot-blooded prime and she was in the full bloom of youth. Physical interactions grew into emotional connections … and it reached a point of no return…"

Lotus parted her lips, but bit her tongue in time.

"I was informed of their … I was outraged, but I hid it, I pretended I knew nothing. I couldn't allow Immortal Wang to lose face like that. But, soon, the Immortal became aware of it too. I guess Brother Zhou was a frank and honest soul and wasn't used to concealing—"

"What do you mean 'it reached a point of no return'?" Lotus could not hold back her question any longer.

Suddenly coy, Sole Light considered how he could word it within the bounds of decency. "They were not man and wife, but they committed the deed of a man and his wife."

"They gave birth to a baby?"

"They simply spent a fortnight together, it takes many months to reach childbirth." The monk skirted away from the awkward subject and resumed his tale. "Immortal Wang tied up Brother Zhou and brought him to me, to be dealt with as I saw fit. Now, for us martial men, the one thing we value the most is the upholding of righteous loyalty toward our kinfolk in the wulin. How could I let my petty personal attachment to a woman come between the friendship I shared with Immortal Wang?

"So, I untied Brother Zhou, summoned her and gave my blessing to their union. But he started to yell and bawl, claiming he did not know that what he had done was wrong. He now realized the deed was unworthy, and that I could have him beheaded, but nothing could induce him to take her as his wife.

"Immortal Wang was incensed. He said he would have cut Brother Zhou's throat the instant he discovered his shameful, immoral act, but for the knowledge that his brother could indeed be so ingenuous, so unworldly, so sincerely oblivious to the meaning and consequence of his actions."

Lotus stuck out her tongue. "What a close shave."

"I had never been so affronted. I was livid. I said to Brother Zhou, 'I am gifting you what I hold dear, willingly and with no ulterior motive. You know the time-honored saying, "Like limbs are brothers, like garbs are helpmeets." This is simply a matter with a woman, it is of no import.'"

"Fie! Fie! Uncle, how could you treat her like that? Your words are utter, utter hogwash!"

"Enough!" the farmer roared.

"Why can't I argue back when he's wrong?"

The four men stared at Lotus, stupefied. They had always venerated their teacher and liege with every fiber of their being. To take issue with him was simply unimaginable. The girl's flippancy was beyond the pale.

But her rebuke did not bother the monk. He continued his story: "Brother Zhou would simply shake his head at whatever I had to say, and that angered me further. 'If you love her, why do you reject her? If you don't love her, then why did you…? Our Dali Kingdom might be inconsequential, but we will not be so insulted by outsiders under our roof.'

"My words sent Brother Zhou into a stupor. He stared at me, then fell to his knees and knocked his head against the floor. 'King Duan, it is my fault. Strike me dead. I deserve it. I won't raise a hand to defend myself. I won't dodge the blow. Just kill me now!'

"I was shaken by his reaction and asked him, 'Why would I kill you?' And he just said, 'Then I'll take my leave.' He took out a silk handkerchief from the inside pocket of his shirt and turned to her. 'Yours.' He extended his arm. She pulled a feeble smile, but made no move to take it. He let go. The handkerchief drifted down, landing by my foot.

"After that, Brother Zhou slapped himself across the face, over and over, so hard that his cheeks were bloodied. He kowtowed to me once more and then he was gone. That was the last I saw of him. Immortal Wang apologized and begged my forgiveness and left my court the same day. Not long after that, I received news of his departure from this world. The Immortal was unparalleled among men, a true hero, noble and benevolent…"

"Immortal Wang's kung fu might have been stronger than yours, but I doubt he was more noble or benevolent. His seven disciples are very average—utterly awful, in fact. They're nothing compared with your four students."

"The Seven Immortals of Quanzhen are known and admired by everyone under the heavens."

Lotus pursed her lips. "That's just plain wrong! Your protégés are more than a match for them—both as men and martial artists … Now, what happened to the handkerchief?"

Her praise cheered the four disciples, but they groaned inwardly at her girlish fixation on such trifles.

"I could not bear the sight that I was left with. She stood paralyzed before me. An empty shell, deserted by her soul and her spirit. It made me furious, so I picked up the handkerchief. A pair of mandarin ducks frolicking in water. Lovebirds. Embroidered by her. A token of her love for him. Scorn rose in me when I saw the lyrical poem sewn—"

Lotus supplied the words:

"For the fourth time the loom is ready,

To weave a pair of lovebirds so they can take flight."

"Stop!" The farmer again. "Enough of your insolence!"

"You know it too?" Sole Light's question sent a jolt through his disciples.

"It's finally come to me!" Guo Jing straightened up in excitement. "I knew I'd heard this poem before, when we were at Madam Ying's but I couldn't place it. It was on Peach Blossom Island! Big Brother Zhou was bitten by a snake and the venom made him delirious. He kept rambling on about looms … and weaving birds … and graying hair! What are the rest of the words? Lotus, can you remember?"

She recited the verse in full:

"For the fourth time the loom is ready,

To weave a pair of lovebirds so they can take flight.

Pity the hair that grows gray before its time!

The ripples of spring among green grass,

The chill of dawn lurking in the deep,

In each other scarlet feather bathe."

"That's the one!" Guo Jing struck himself on the thigh. "Big Brother kept saying that it's dangerous to clap eyes on beautiful women, because one look is enough to make you do bad things, and worst of all is that you do it without realizing that it's bad, so you end up offending good friends and angering martial brothers. He also said I must never let any woman touch my pressure points, or else awful, awful things will happen. He told me to stay away even from you."

"Pah!" Lotus pretended to spit. "I'll give that mooncalf a good twist of the ear the next time I see him." She collapsed into laughter. "Now I see why he got in such a sulk when I teased him about failing to find himself a wife."

Puzzlement clouded Guo Jing's face again. "Hang on. How come Madam Ying knows the poem?"

Lotus sighed, exasperated. "Because Madam Ying is Consort Liu."

2

"You certainly share your father's intelligence." Sole Light's expression was solemn. "Ying is her given name."

Among the four disciples, only the scholar had suspected there was connection between Consort Liu and Madam Ying, and he was only half convinced of his deduction. The other three stared at their shifu, open-mouthed.

"I tossed the handkerchief at her and never summoned her again. I wallowed in self-pity at being jilted, and ignored state affairs. Nothing but martial training could take my mind off—"

"You really loved her, Uncle," Lotus interjected. "You know that? Why else would you be so upset?"

"Miss!" the disciples cried in unison. How could she speak to her elder with such impudence?

"What? Am I wrong? Uncle, am I?"

The monk continued his story without commenting on Lotus's observation. "I did not send for her for almost a year. But I saw her often in my dreams. One night, her vision came again to haunt my sleep and I could no longer fight back the urge. I had to see her. I wanted to see what she had been doing. I went to her quarters in secret, hopping from roof to roof. Just when I landed on the ridge of the roof of her chamber, I heard it. The cry of a baby. I froze. I stood on the frost-coated tiles, utterly still, battered by a bitter cold wind. I didn't return to my rooms until daybreak, and shortly afterward I was struck down by a terrible sickness."

Lotus had heard many tales of kings and emperors, but not one in which the monarch set aside his regal pride to scale walls and traverse roofs in the middle of the night to see one of his consorts.

Sole Light's students remembered the illness well. Thanks to his martial stature, their shifu had long been immune to common colds and extreme weather. On the odd occasion that he was indisposed, his recovery was far speedier than that of the average person, thanks to his superior internal strength. Yet, this time, not only was he incapacitated, but the malady lingered for a long time. Now they finally knew why: he was heartbroken. He had let down all his defenses.

"Why were you sad? She gave you a child. That's a good thing, right?"

"My silly girl, it was not my child. It was Brother Zhou's."

"But he was long gone. Did he come back in secret?"

"No, he didn't. Have you not heard of the phrase 'ten moons with child'?"

"The little one must be the very image of the Hoary Urchin. Stuck-out ears. Snub nose. That's how you knew he wasn't yours."

"I didn't catch the newborn's face. And I didn't need to. I knew because it had been a very long time since I was last with her. The child couldn't have been mine."

Lotus still could not quite grasp the logic, but she had a feeling that to ask further questions might cause the monk embarrassment.

"It took me almost a year to recover from that illness. When I got better, I distracted myself with anything that could keep my mind from straying back to that night. Two years dragged by. One night, when I was meditating in my chamber, the drapes over the doorway were thrown aside. It was her. She had come to me. The eunuchs and sentries tried to stop her, but they were no match for her palm thrusts.

"The commotion drew me back to the present. I opened my eyes to see a child cradled in her arms, and sheer terror on her face. She knelt and kowtowed, wailing, sobbing, begging. 'Mercy, Great King! Mercy! Spare my child!'

"I got up to take a closer look at the toddler. His tiny face was flushed a feverish red, his little chest heaving and throbbing. I took him from her arms. I held him, my hands on his back. I could feel the fracture through his skin. Five ribs. Snapped.

"She pleaded with me: 'Your Majesty, I have sinned and I deserve to die, but please spare this child.' Her choice of words was curious—'spare'—so I asked, 'What has happened?' She just knocked her forehead on the floor, over and over again. I tried once more. 'Who hurt him?' She wouldn't answer, she simply cried, 'Mercy, Great King! Mercy!'

"I didn't know what to say or do. At length, she began to speak again between snivels and kowtows. 'Your Majesty … granted me death … no complaint … but the child … the child…' I was full of questions. 'Who granted you death? How did the boy—?'" For the first time, she looked me in the eyes and said in a trembling voice, 'Didn't Your Majesty send your guard to…'

"I realized at last that something sinister was afoot. 'My guard? Impossible! Who would dare?' She was overjoyed. 'If this wasn't your imperial decree, then my child is saved,' she cried. Moments later, she fainted.

"I carried her to my bed and placed the baby next to her. When she came to, a short while later, she took my hand and told me what had happened. She had been lulling the boy to sleep when a masked imperial guard jumped in through the window. He wrenched the child from her arms and aimed a slap at his back. She hurled herself at him, fighting tooth and nail, but he shoved her away and struck the child again, this time on the chest. Then he left, with a cackle. She'd assumed it was I who had sent him and came straight to my rooms to beg for the boy's life.

"I was bewildered by her account and examined the child again. I couldn't tell what kung fu had caused his injury, but I knew the attacker was no common thug. This infant had taken two powerful palm thrusts. He was still breathing, but his Belt Meridian was severed. Clearly, the masked man had wanted to hurt the boy without killing him outright. I went straight to her quarters to see if the assailant had left any trace. I found some very faint footprints on the roof tiles and the window frame.

"I told her what I could gather from them: 'The assassin was a Master, skilled in lightness kung fu. Not a soul in this Kingdom, besides myself, is at that same level.'

"Her face was ashen. 'Could it be him? Why would he want to hurt his own son?'"

"The Old Urchin wouldn't do that…" Lotus said.

"At the time, I believed he was behind this heinous act. Who else of his martial standing had reason to hurt this harmless baby? I assumed he didn't want his reputation tarnished by an illegitimate child. But, even as she uttered those words, she was full of shame and remorse. 'No! Never!' she shouted. 'It can't be him! That laugh. It wasn't his. It couldn't be him!' Struck by her conviction, I asked, 'How can you be sure? You're in shock.' She looked me in the eye and said, 'I will never forget that laugh. Even when I'm nothing but a ghost, I will remember it.'"

A shiver down ran everyone's spine. Lotus and Guo Jing's encounter with Madam Ying was just a couple of days old and her voice was still fresh in their minds. They could almost hear her spitting those words out through gritted teeth.

"She sounded so unshakeable in her conviction that I had no choice but to believe her, though I had no notion of who else it could be. For a time, I did toy with the idea that it might be one of Immortal Wang's disciples—Ma Yu, Qiu Chuji or Wang Chuyi. Perhaps they could have traveled thousands of miles to eliminate a toddler to preserve the Quanzhen Sect's…" Sole Light trailed off, catching Guo Jing's moving lips and his hesitation over whether to interrupt. "Go on, speak, I won't take offense."

"Elder Ma, Elder Qiu and Elder Wang are heroes who follow the moral code of xia. They would never do such a wicked thing."

"I met Wang Chuyi on Mount Hua. He seemed to be of sound character, but I don't know the others. But one thing has always puzzled me. Let's say it was indeed one of the Quanzhen Immortals. They could have easily dispatched the child with one blow. Why leave him half dead?"

Sole Light gazed out of the window, loss and self-doubt darkening his face. This mystery had haunted him for more than a decade. After a short interval, he said, "Right, I should continue—"

"It can only be Viper Ouyang," Lotus declared.

"That occurred to me too, but she insisted that killer was shorter than the average man. And the Venom, like his fellows in the Western Regions, is well-built. He's at least a head taller than our men."

"Really? Hmmm…" Lotus was baffled.

"I couldn't think of anyone who had cause back then, and I still can't today … Her tears streamed down her face as she hugged the child. He wasn't as badly injured as you, but he was so young. He had nothing inside his little body that could help him bear such a blow. To heal him would cost all my primal strength. I was torn. Her anguish was so infectious that I was almost moved to grant her her wish, but, each time I was about to reach out for the boy, my mind strayed to the second Contest of Mount Hua. To the cold, heartless fact that, by saving his life, I would be forfeiting all hopes of becoming the Greatest Martial Master Under the Heavens, depriving these fingers of a chance to turn the pages of the Nine Yin Manual."

A profound sigh. "Immortal Wang said that the Manual was the greatest source of evil in the wulin. It is incontestably true—the slaughter it has caused, the lives it has destroyed. In the hope of possessing its secrets, I have abandoned compassion, charity, love. I dithered for almost two hours before I made up my mind to revive the boy. In those hours, I was not human. I was baser than fowl or beast. And the worst part is that I came to the decision to help because I could not withstand her pleading any longer. It was not because I'd had an epiphany that it was the right thing to do, something that any human with a heart would have done."

"See? I was right when I said you loved her very much, Uncle," Lotus said.

But Sole Light did not seem to hear her. "When she heard that I would help, she passed out from joy. I brought her round then untied the child's night clothes, so I could massage him using Cosmos neigong. I peeled open his little shirt and the sight of his undergarments stopped me in my tracks. I couldn't move, I couldn't say a word.

"Two mandarin ducks frolicking in water. The poem about weaving lovebirds. The handkerchief she gave Brother Zhou as a token of their love. She had fashioned it into a vest to keep their love child warm. She could see the change in my countenance. Her already bloodless cheeks turned whiter still. She pulled a dagger from her belt and pressed it to her chest. 'Your Majesty, I have done you wrong and I am ashamed to face this world any longer, but allow me to appeal to your magnanimity. Let me give my life in exchange for my child's. This lowly woman shall return in the next life as your dog or your horse, so I can serve you with one heart to requite your grace and benevolence.' With those words, she plunged the blade into her heart."

The knowledge that she had survived this could not prevent a sharp intake of breath from the listeners.

Sole Light continued, scarcely registering their reaction. He was now recounting the events for himself. Everyone else may as well have ceased to exist. "I plucked the dagger from her grasp. I was quick, but its point had already pierced the skin. Blood soaked her robes. I locked her pressure points in case she tried to take her life again, took care of the wound and carried her to a chair. She looked at me, her mouth clamped shut. Just her eyes. Fixed on me. Beseeching. No words. No one spoke. Only one sound remained … the child's wheezing.

"The past—our past—assaulted me through his labored panting. The days when she first came to the palace. When I taught her kung fu. Lavished her with attention … She waited on me. Always gentle, always eager to please, but she did it with respect, with trepidation. She had refused me nothing, but she had also never loved me. Not with her heart. Not with her soul.

"But I had not known that … Not until I saw how she looked at Brother Zhou. Then I understood. Those eyes were drinking in everything about a man she loved with every fiber of her being. That was what love looked like.

"Her eyes took in, without blinking, how Brother Zhou let go of the handkerchief. Her eyes took in, without blinking, how he turned his back on her and walked away, out of the palace, out of her life.

"It was those eyes, that look, that had made my sleep fitful, my food tasteless. And now I was confronted with that look in those eyes once more. And now, for the second time, I was witnessing, through her eyes, the breaking of her heart. For another. Not her lover, this time, but his son. The son she'd had with him!

"Oh, for a man to be so begrimed, for a king to be so abused! The fire of hideous rage, the flame of grotesque wrath burned in me. I lifted my foot and brought it down on an ivory stool, breaking it into pieces. Then I saw something that shocked me more than anything else that night. 'What … what happened to your hair?' She didn't hear me. She only had eyes for her child.

"I had never known that one look could contain so much love, so much sorrow, so much longing. She knew I would never help his child. She knew each moment her eyes feasted on this little life while its chest still heaved, was a most precious moment for her, but it also brought her son a moment closer to death.

"I fetched a mirror and said to her, 'Look at your hair!' It had been mere hours since she had burst into my room with her babe, but in that short time she had aged by decades. She was just eighteen. Maybe nineteen. Yet, in those few hours of rage, distress and repentance, of hopes raised and dashed, of love, pity and heartsick, the onslaught of extreme emotions had turned her temples white!

"She cared not for the change in her looks, but she resented the mirror for blocking her view of her darling child. 'Take it away!' she barked. Forthright. Direct. She had forgotten that I was her king. Her lord and master.

"I was speechless. I knew how much care she took of her appearance. Why did it not matter to her now? I asked myself as I tossed away the mirror. I studied her. Her eyes never strayed from her child. I'd never seen such yearning. She was willing the boy to live. She was trying to inject her own life into his small body just by looking at him, to replace and to replenish the vitality that was seeping out of him."

Guo Jing caught Lotus's eye and knew the same thought was in her mind: That was how you looked at me when I was at death's door. They reached for each other's hand, holding tight. Their hearts throbbed, a warm tingle surged through their bodies. They had been blessed with such luck. They could sit next to the love of their life, no longer in danger, having made a full recovery. They would not have to watch the other die. They would never die. The love inside their hearts could never die.

"I reached out, again and again, intending to help the child, so I could chase that look from her face. But that handkerchief. Wrapped around his belly. Over his heaving chest … That pair of lovebirds. Mandarin ducks. Nuzzling. Leaning into each other. Mandarin ducks mate for life. Mandarin ducks have white plumes on their heads. Mandarin ducks are symbols of happy union, of fidelity, of growing old together. Why 'pity the hair that grows gray before its time'?

"I saw the silver hair at her temples with new eyes. A cold sweat broke out, soaking through my robes. Spite numbed my heart. I said to her: 'Go on, you two. Grow old and grow gray together. Go on! Leave me here to play as king! Alone in the palace, without a soul! This is your spawn with him. Why should I waste my elemental strength to save it?'

"Her eyes flicked across my face. The last time I felt her gaze upon me. A look of hatred, of bile, of resentment, of abhorrence. I'll never forget how it seared my skin. I'll remember it until my day of reckoning. 'Unbind me. I want to hold my son.' Stern, cold, devoid of emotion. The voice you'd use for a subordinate. And there was something in her tone I could not refuse. I did as she commanded. I unlocked her pressure points.

"She scooped up the child and pressed him against her bosom. He was wracked by agonizing pain. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't make a sound. His little face had gone puffy and purple. His eyes were imploring, begging his mother to help him, to relieve him.

"My heart had turned to stone. There was not a drop of compassion left in my being. I watched her hair turn, strand by strand, from black to gray to white. I didn't know if I was hallucinating or if it was really happening before my eyes. She was cooing, trying to comfort him. 'My son, Mama isn't skilled enough to heal you. But Mama can stop the pain. Hush, my little love, hush … Sleep … Sleep … and never wake again…' She hummed a lullaby. She sang it so beautifully. It was such a lovely tune. Mmm … Yes, yes, that's it, that's how it goes. Hark!"

There was only silence in the room.

"Shifu, you've been talking for a long time. Rest now, please."

"A smile spread across the child's face." Sole Light carried on without heeding the scholar's words. "Then, his little body contorted. She murmured, 'My love, my heart, sleep. It'll stop hurting when you're asleep. Nothing will ever hurt you again…' Her words trailed off. She had driven the dagger into her son's heart."

Lotus yelped and grabbed Guo Jing by the arm. The faces of the four disciples were as white as a sheet.

The monk went on, oblivious to his audience. "I cried out and staggered back. I almost fell. In here –" he tapped his heart—"chaos. I watched her straighten up. Slowly. 'One day, I will plunge this dagger into your heart.' She spoke ever so quietly. Then she took a jade bracelet off her wrist. 'You gave me this the day I came to the palace. Wait for the day it makes its way back to you. That is when this dagger will find its mark. Wait for that day.'"

Sole Light twirled the bracelet over his finger. "This bracelet. I have waited for more than a decade. At last, it has returned."

"She killed her own son, Uncle. It's got nothing to do with you," Lotus said, in an attempt to console the monk. "It wasn't you who hurt the child in the first place. And she's already poisoned you. Whatever blood debt existed has been crossed out. I'll go and send her on her way. I won't let her bother—"

She was interrupted by the novice, who had rushed in with a small parcel. "Shifu, this was sent from the foot of the mountain."

Sole Light opened the package to a chorus of mutterings.

The dead child's undergarments. The silk had yellowed with age, but the colored thread tracing the pair of mandarin ducks was still vibrant. A rent, caked with blackened blood, had torn the two lovebirds apart.

The monk stared at it for a long time.

"'To weave a pair of lovebirds so they can take flight.' To take flight! Ai! A dream, it was." At length, he resumed his tale. "She howled and howled, holding her lifeless child. Then she leaped out the window, jumped up onto the roof and disappeared into the night. For three days and three nights afterward, I could think of nothing else. I could not bear the thought of food or drink passing my lips. At last, I came to a resolution. I abdicated and passed the throne to my heir, my eldest son, so I could receive the tonsure." He pointed at the four disciples. "They had been by my side for many years and did not want to be parted from me. They too left court and followed me to the Celestial Dragon Temple outside the city of Dali.

"For the first three years, they took turns returning to court to assist my son. It did not take long for him to grow familiar with state affairs, and the country enjoyed peace. It was around that time we encountered Viper Ouyang. When they were searching for the Venom, Ziliu –" Sole Light pointed to the scholar—"discovered that Madam Ying was living as a recluse and practicing martial arts in a swamp near Peach Spring, in western Hunan.

"I was worried that she might hurt herself while training, and moved here from Dali so I could keep an eye on her. I arranged for trees to be planted, to fortify the woods surrounding her marshland, and provided her with food and supplies—"

"See, Uncle, I was right. You still love her. You don't want to be apart from her."

3

Sole Light drew in a breath and said, "These four were concerned about me and came with me to Hunan. We settled here and haven't been back to Dali since.

"For the sake of one marble-hearted moment, I have not found rest or peace for more than ten years. It was I who refused to save the child that night, and, since then, I have hoped to save others to atone for that sin. But my disciples have never understood. They keep trying to stop me. And, regardless of how many people I restore to health—a thousand, ten thousand—I can never bring back the child that I refused to help. I will not be absolved until I willingly give my life back to him.

"I have been waiting every day since for Madam Ying to come, for her to drive her dagger into my heart. My biggest fear was that I would die before her arrival, fated not to face my karmic retribution. Well, now, at last, she is on her way.

"There really was no need for her to tamper with the Dew of Nine Flowers. Had I known she would come so soon after I was poisoned, I wouldn't have imposed on my brother-in-faith and asked him to purge the toxins. I could have kept them at bay with my kung fu for a few hours until she arrived."

"This woman has a black heart!" Lotus was indignant. "She has long known your whereabouts and that you have been looking after her. The only thing stopping her from her vengeance is her mediocre kung fu, so she sits there, plotting and scheming, waiting for an opportunity—waiting for someone like me to direct here. It so happened that we stumbled across her after I was injured by Qiu Qianren. Since then, I've been her pawn and her weapon, first to weaken you, then to poison you. It makes my blood boil just to think about it! But, Uncle, you haven't explained how that drawing by Viper Ouyang ended up in her possession, and how it relates to everything you've told us."

Sole Light picked up the copy of Sutralamkara Sastra from the low table next to him and turned the leaves until he found the passage he was looking for.

"There was a king, whose name was Sivi," he read aloud. "And he followed the ascetic path and sought enlightenment perfect and supreme. It came to pass that he happened by chance upon a hawk chasing after a dove. And the dove hid itself under the arm of King Sivi, trembling and wounded.

"The hawk asked the king to return his prey unto him, saying, 'The king saveth the dove, the hawk dieth for hunger.' And King Sivi pondered the words of the hawk: To save one and hurt another is unrighteous. And he took a sharp knife and cut a piece of his own thigh for the hawk.

"The hawk said unto the king, 'The king's flesh should be the same as the dove by weight.' And King Sivi sent for a balance, and laid the dove on one scale and his flesh on the other.

"He trimmed all the flesh from his thighs, but the scale holding the dove was lower. He cut flesh from his chest, his back, his arm, his belly, but his offering still weighed less than the dove. And so the king stepped onto the scale.

"And the earth quaked and music sounded from the heavens. And celestial apsaras scattered petals and fragrance filled the roads. And devas and yaksas in the firmament sighed, crying, 'Rejoice! Rejoice! Such good courage has never before been seen.'"

The dignified and heartfelt reading moved all those present.

"She wanted to provoke you into saving me." Lotus had at last unraveled the final mystery.

"When she left Dali aggrieved, she must have roamed the jianghu seeking martial Masters who could train her so she could take revenge. I expect that was how she encountered Viper Ouyang. It is likely that the Venom helped her devise this plan and sketched the drawing for her. This scripture is well known in the lands of the Western Regions, so he would be familiar with the parable."

"So this is a sophisticated plot to hurt you … the Venom used Madam Ying and Madam Ying used me."

"Do not blame yourself. If you hadn't come across her, she would have hurt someone and sent them my way. It was just a matter of time. For the injured person to reach me, they would have to be accompanied by someone who is extremely skilled in the martial arts. As you rightly observed, this image was painted a long time ago, so this plan of the Venom's has been in motion for at least a decade. During all that time, she has not come across anyone who could help her claim her revenge—until now. It was destined to be so."

"It's because there was something else she cared about more than retribution."

"What could that be?"

"She wants to rescue the Hoary Urchin from Peach Blossom Island!" Lotus explained how Madam Ying had been trying to teach herself the art of reckoning and the principles of the Mysterious Gates. "Then she met me and realized she would never catch up with Papa, not in a hundred years. And since I happened to be injured—"

Sole Light laughed and got to his feet. "At last, everything has come together for her today." He turned to his disciples, adopting a stern expression. "Prepare to receive Consort Liu—no, Madam Ying—and guide her here. Treat her with the utmost courtesy."

"Shifu!" The four men fell to their knees, tears staining their faces.

"You've been with me for so many years. Can you still not understand what is in here?" The monk slapped his chest, then turned to Guo Jing and Lotus. "I hope I can ask one thing of you."

"Of course," they answered as one.

"Please descend this mountain now. The debt I owe Madam Ying is too great to be repaid in one lifetime. In future, if she encounters any difficulty or danger, I beg you to come to her aid on behalf of this aged monk. And if you could unite her with Brother Zhou, then I would be forever grateful."

Guo Jing and Lotus looked at each other, unsure how to respond.

"I hope I am not asking too great a favor."

After a moment of hesitation, Lotus said, "Your word is our command," and tugged Guo Jing's sleeve so he would join her in bowing low to take their leave.

"There is no need for you to see Madam Ying again. There is another way down on the other side of the mountain."

Acknowledging the monk's instructions, Lotus turned and headed out of the room, hand in hand with Guo Jing.

The four disciples threw curses at her back. How could she walk away, so calm and carefree, so callous and ungrateful, when danger was about to befall the man who had restored her life?

But Guo Jing knew Lotus would not stand by—she must already have devised a plan—so he followed her without a word. The moment they stepped outside the room, she whispered in his ear. He hesitated at the doorway, then nodded and turned around.

Seeing Guo Jing's approach, Sole Light repeated his request. "You are honest and loyal and you have a kind heart. You shall become a great man. I am counting on you in this matter concerning Madam Ying."

"I shall do everything I can to fulfill Uncle's command." While his pledge was still lingering in the air, Guo Jing's hand shot out to grab the Sindhu monk's wrist—the man had not moved from Sole Light's side all this time. A moment later, his finger landed first on the Florid Canopy pressure point on the monk's sternum, then on the Celestial Pillar at the back of his neck, locking the movement of his limbs.

"What are you doing?" Sole Light demanded. His students gaped, aghast, and scrambled to respond. None of them had envisaged this turn of events.

Guo Jing answered by reaching for the monk's shoulder, trapping him under the power of his palm thrust.

Sole Light flipped his hand and, brisk as lightning, had the young man's wrist in his grasp. A supreme counterattack. The crisp and precise reflex caught Guo Jing unawares, yet the contact also revealed the monk's depleted internal strength.

Guo Jing responded with a Reverse Grapple, twirling his palm around to lock onto a spot on the back of Sole Light's hand that would numb the whole arm, while he swung a Dragon Whips Tail to throw off the fisher and the logger, who were charging at him from behind.

"Forgive me, Uncle."

Guo Jing tapped twice on the monk's right flank, at the Essence Spur point under his armpit and the Phoenix Tail toward the base of his spine. Then he whipped up a storm of palm strikes to drive the fisher, the logger and the scholar out of the room. The air crackled with his neigong. The men tried to defend themselves, to hold their ground, but any contact with this force field numbed their arms and compelled their feet to shuffle in retreat.

"Stop! Please!" the scholar entreated, unable to fathom the boy's sudden aggression.

Lotus had also slipped back into the chamber and was chasing the farmer out with the Dog Beater. The big man charged like a maddened tiger, desperate to help his stricken Master. Thrice he pounced, and thrice he was pushed back.

Once all four of Sole Light's students had been forced to retreat to the courtyard outside, Lotus thrust the Dog-Beating Cane between the farmer's eyes. Swift, fierce, accurate.

"Aiiiyaaaa!" The man reeled backward and catapulted himself away from her.

"Nice move!" She spun round to pull the doors shut, then regarded the men with a smile. "Please, allow me to speak."

Guo Jing pulled back the palm thrust he was about to launch at the fisher and the logger. "Forgive us," he said, cupping his hands.

The four men gaped at each other.

"Please believe us that we mean no offense at all." Lotus spoke with humility. "We only wish to help. We could not possibly stand aside and do nothing when my savior is in peril."

The scholar stepped forward and bowed low. "Miss, we trust that you can find a way to keep our shifu safe. We could not defy his express command and prevent her arrival. Nor could we raise a hand against her, as she was our Master's consort and our Mistress. We are aware that he would have welcomed her knife without a murmur, even if he had his full martial strength, for he longs to be free from the torment caused by the … the child's death. But how could we live with ourselves if we stood by and let it happen? We would lay down our lives to do your bidding."

"We too are bound to Reverend Sole Light by a great debt of gratitude and will do everything in our power to avert the danger," Lotus replied, uncharacteristically solemn. "It would be best if we could keep Madam Ying from entering this temple, but I very much doubt that it will be possible. She has waited for more than ten years in her fetid swamp for this one chance—she must have planned for every eventuality and will not be easily dissuaded. There is one way we could resolve this situation once and for all, but it's a risky gamble since we are up against someone who is smart, cunning and determined. I wish there was another way."

"Please, tell us," they begged.

Lotus began to elaborate, her eyes alive with anticipation. Her audience exchanged glances, unsure what to think of her audacious plan.

4

The sun began its slow retreat. The breeze stole in with the night, swaying the rows of palm trees guarding the temple and rustling the wilted lotus leaves covering the pond. The half-light threw a craggy shadow across the temple, in the shape of a giant sleeping on the ground.

The four disciples sat cross-legged at the end of the broken stone bridge, peering into the gloaming, their hearts ill at ease. As twilight faded into gloom, a milky haze drifted up from the ravine. A murder of crows flew past, cawing, then dived into the murky darkness below.

No sign of anyone advancing toward their side of the bridge.

The four followers of Sole Light were each haunted by their own thoughts. The logger prayed that Consort Liu would realize at the last minute that his Master had not caused any of the misfortune she had suffered and would turn back in peace, whereas the fisher was certain that keeping them waiting was part of her infernal plot. The impetuous farmer just wished that she would appear that instant so this wretched business could be over—he cared little for the consequences for himself.

Foreboding clouded the scholar's mind. The longer it takes her to get here, the more treacherous our situation will be, he told himself. He had never felt this listless and helpless during his long years of service in the Dali court, where he had faced and overcome his share of crises.

A chill crept up his spine as the cry of a faraway owl sounded, just as the last trace of light was blotted from the sky. Is there really no way to resolve this amicably? he asked himself. Is it inevitable that Shifu will die at the hand of this woman?

"She's here!" The logger's whispered warning interrupted the scholar's thoughts.

A shadowy blur was speeding toward them, gliding over each gap on the bridge as if its body were immaterial. The improvement in her kung fu was frightening to behold.

The scholar and his fellows got to their feet and took up positions on each side of the bridge, ready to receive their Mistress.

Although she was robed head to toe in black, in stark contrast to the colorful finery of her imperial days, there was no mistaking it was her.

Consort Liu. King Duan's favorite from the palace.

The men fell to their knees, prostrated and chanted in unison, as though at court: "We bow to Your Highness."

"Your Highness? Consort Liu died a long time ago. I am Madam Ying." She surveyed the men kneeling to her left and right. "Here we meet again, Great Chancellor, Grand Marshal, Commander of the Navy and Captain of the Imperial Guard. I thought His Majesty received the tonsure because he had freed himself from the shackles of worldly affairs, yet in fact he has been holding court from this mountain hermitage all along."

The men shivered at the bile in her tone.

"His Majesty is much changed," the scholar ventured to reply. "Your Highness would not—"

"Your Highness, Your Highness…" Madam Ying scowled. "Enough of your derision! And enough of your kneeling too! I don't want your stiff respect for the dead."

The men glanced at one another and stood up, speaking in one voice in the palace tradition: "We wish madam peace."

Madam Ying waved their words away. "I know he has sent you here to block my path, so why bother with these courtesies? Go on. Show me your kung fu. I know how many lives you men—king and court—have ruined and destroyed. You don't need to put on an act for this common old crone."

"His Majesty loves the people as his own flesh and blood," the scholar said. "To this day, the people of Dali still praise his benevolent reign. His Majesty has also never been wanton with the lives of those under his rule, even those who have committed grievous crimes. He has often been lenient—"

"Enough!" Madam Ying's own trespass crept up on her like the blush darkening her cheeks.

The scholar lowered his head. "Pardon your humble servant."

"My servant?" she sneered. "I am here to see Duan Zhixing. Will you let me pass?"

Duan Zhixing. The sound of those three characters sent shock waves through the four former courtiers. They were aware, of course, that they represented the name given to their lord and liege, but, as they were his subjects, just to consider addressing him so directly would amount to an unforgiveable offense—to voice them out loud was unthinkable.

The farmer, who had once led the Imperial Guard, could no longer hold his temper in check. "Once a king, always a king! You cannot speak of him in such terms."

With a wicked screech of laughter, Madam Ying launched toward them at a run. The men repositioned themselves to block her path, their arms flung wide. They were confident they could hold her back. They would deal with the consequences of going against Shifu's orders later …

She charged headlong at their blockade, making no move to swing a fist or thrust a palm to scatter the men.

Fearing her body would slam into his, the logger skewed to the side and reached out to grab her shoulder. His fingers grazed her robes, slipping off the fabric as if he were trying to grasp a smooth flat surface.

The farmer and the fisher swooped in from either side, roaring and growling. She dived low and slid away from under the fisher's arm like a water snake.

A faint fragrance of orchid and musk wafted toward the fisher's nose and panic gripped his heart—it would break all rules of propriety if he brought his elbow down and trapped her in an embrace. He flung his arm higher, as far away from her body as he could.

But the farmer had no such qualms. He lunged, his hands opened wide—two clamps ready to close around her waist.

"Manners, Brother!"

The farmer ignored the logger's warning. He could already feel her beneath his fingertips. And yet she slid out of his grasp, as though he had taken hold of a handful of grease.

Weatherfish Slip kung fu, inspired by the black marsh she called home.

Confident that the disciples could not handle her, and having evaded three of them with little effort, Madam Ying was now ready to retaliate, aiming a backhanded slap at the farmer.

The scholar stepped forward to intercept, tapping at the pressure points on her wrist after twirling an arm past her guard. This simple maneuver harnessed the power of a lifetime's martial training.

Madam Ying's forefinger flew at the scholar's outstretched digit, and what began as a numbing sting from the touch of her fingertip became a jolt that ripped like a crack of lightning through his body. With a cry, the scholar crashed to the ground. The fisher and the logger rushed to his aid, while the farmer swung a left hook at Madam Ying.

Madam Ying watched the farmer's punch hurtle toward her face, heavy as a hammer blow, without so much as flinching. Her nonchalance gave him pause: I'll crack her skull and splatter her brains … He wanted to wrench away, but his knuckles were already skimming the tip of her nose. She cocked her head faintly and his fist glanced off her cheek. He knew he needed to pull back now that his strike had failed to land, but she was faster, trapping his wrist. He tugged and struggled, trying to free himself from her grasp. Crack! Shards of pain shot down his arm. She had knocked his forearm out of joint with an uppercut. Not one to yield easily, he clenched his teeth and poked his right index finger into the crook of her elbow.

The farmer and his peers had been taught the art of pressure-point locking by Sole Light himself. Though they had yet to reach the dizzying heights of their Master's skill in Yang in Ascendance, they were among the most accomplished practitioners of this combat technique alive.

Of course, Madam Ying had long known that, if she were to avenge her son's death, she would need to develop a way to foil these potent taps of the finger, and she had eventually found inspiration from embroidery, a craft at which she—like many women of her time—excelled. She had forged a golden band that fitted over the tip of her right forefinger. This ring held in place a needle, one-third of an inch long, which she laced with a deadly poison. Like all masters of needlework, she had keen eyesight and a steady hand. After several years practice, she could skewer a fly midair.

"The fingers to the heart connect." The well-known saying described the strong and immediate connection between the extremities and the core. At the very tip of the index finger is the Metal Yang acupoint, which is the first point in the Large Intestine Meridian that travels up the arm to the nose.

This was the spot where Madam Ying had struck the scholar, and now she was poised to do the same to the farmer. With a smirk, she curled her finger slightly, holding it still, directly in the path of his attack. She would let him prick himself on the waiting needle.

Like the scholar, the farmer had put all his strength into his strike, hoping to bring her down with him.

Stung on the fingertip, he howled in pain and slumped to the ground.

Sniggering, Madam Ying continued on her way to the temple.

"Your Highness, stop, please!" the fisher cried.

She halted at the foot of the small stone bridge spanning the lotus pond. At the far end was the temple's front gate.

"Or else?" She turned to face him. Her ice-cold glare cut through the darkness. "The Chancellor and the Captain have both been stung by my Needle of Seven Dooms, and nobody in this world can save them now. Do you wish to share their fate?" With those words, she strolled onto the bridge, unconcerned that she had left her back open to her enemies.

5

Just as Madam Ying was about to step off the bridge, she heard a greeting.

"Master."

The faint outline of a man emerged from the shadows. He put his hand over his fist in respect, but he was standing in her way.

Madam Ying was shaken. How did I fail to hear him approach? It only took me twenty paces to cross this bridge. If he had launched an attack instead of cupping his hands, I would be dead or maimed by now. She peered at the shrouded form. Tall, broad shoulders, thick eyebrows, large eyes. The boy she had directed to this mountain sanctuary.

"Is the girl any better?" she asked.

"Thanks to Master's guidance, my martial sister was healed by Reverend Sole Light," Guo Jing replied.

"Then why isn't she here to thank me personally?" Madam Ying pressed ahead as she spoke.

"Master, please turn back."

She ignored him and pushed forward, swiveling slightly at the last moment to avoid running square into him. Deft and undaunted, she slipped past him in the blink of an eye.

Her maneuver put Guo Jing on the back foot, even though he had been anticipating it. He swung his arm in an ungainly arc behind him and sent forth a burst of internal power. Zhou Botong's Luminous Hollow Fist.

Madam Ying had already skimmed past the young man using her Weatherfish Slip technique, but now she was forced to scuttle backward, for there was a tenacity in the supple strength coming toward her that she could not counter. The retreat reminded her why she had come. There was no going back—come what may.

"Hey!" Guo Jing cried as Madam Ying pushed into him. In the shock of this unforeseen close contact, he felt her foot hooking his ankle. The next thing he knew, the two of them were tumbling into the lotus pond in a tangle of limbs.

Even as they were falling, Madam Ying snaked her arm under his armpit and grabbed him by the shoulder. She curled her middle finger and pressed down with her thumb. A Throat Sealer. Once her fingers locked onto his windpipe, she could cut off his breathing with one squeeze.

Acting on instinct, Guo Jing folded his arm over Madam Ying's neck and held her in a stranglehold. His counterattack, Neck Choker, also came from the Miniature Grapple and Lock repertoire she was drawing on.

Unable to match for brute strength, she released the clamp over his throat and threatened him with a pressure-point jab instead. He swiped his arm into her wrist, knocking her outstretched finger off target.

The bridge was no more than half a dozen feet above the pond. Three times she had tried to disable him as they fell, and three times he had parried with the same quick-fire, hand-to-hand combat technique.

Plop! They plunged chest-deep into muddy water.

Madam Ying scooped a handful of slush and made to smear it over Guo Jing's face. She had drawn him into this quaggy pond for the tactical advantage it would offer her—though she was the weaker party, she had lived on marshland for more than a decade and her fighting style was inspired by the slithery movements of weatherfish gliding through the mire.

Guo Jing managed to duck away from the handful of mud, but his footwork was hampered by the three feet of clay lining the pond. Madam Ying, meanwhile, was at home in her natural environment, skimming, skating, sliding over the silt. Her already speedy onslaught was now swifter than ever, a blur of stabs and slaps as she scooped up sludge to sling in her opponent's face.

They had barely exchanged five moves, but Guo Jing was struggling. He would have been in a better position if he let more strength flow into his strikes, but he did not want to hurt her. His sight stolen by the night, his feet bogged down by the mud, he had to rely on his ears to pick out the buzz of her blows and his nose to sniff out the handfuls of stinking sludge coming his way. He slogged this way and that, dodging two clumps of slurry by a hair's breadth. When he thought he was in the clear, a third slapped into his face, covering his eyes, nose and mouth.

Guo Jing threw three consecutive palm thrusts, not in retaliation, but to push Madam Ying back by at least five feet and give him time to wipe his face. This instinctive response had been drilled into him by the Six Freaks of the South. To allow oneself to be paralyzed by an injury mid-fight, especially one from a secret weapon, would be to invite a lethal follow-up.

6

Madam Ying had not come all this way to fight guo Jing. Once she had temporarily blinded him with mud, she hopped back onto the bridge.

If it were not for the pond, I wouldn't have a hope of subduing that boy, she thought as she rushed toward the entrance to the temple. The Lord of the Heavens is granting me my revenge.

She thrust her hands into the temple doors. Creeeeaaak! They flew open.

Not bolted? She halted, in case someone lay in ambush.

Nothing. No movement at all.

She stepped across the threshold, her eyes drawn to the main hall of worship. The Buddha's serene face glowed warmly, illuminated by a single oil lamp. She felt a pang in her heart and knelt on the prayer mat before the deity to ask for a blessing.

Then came the sound of light musical laughter. Right behind her.

Madam Ying swung her arm backward to shield herself as she pressed her hand down on the mat to propel her to her feet, spinning midair to face her opponent.

"Lovely kung fu!" A young woman dressed in a green robe fastened by a red belt grinned at Madam Ying. The golden hoop in her hair glistened in the dim light. She held a glossy green bamboo stick in her hand.

Madam Ying recognized her at once.

"I thank you for saving my life."

"No need to thank me. I sent you here to hurt another, not for your own good."

"The line between friend and foe is never clear cut. Papa held Zhou Botong on Peach Blossom Island for five and ten years, but it couldn't bring Mama back to life."

Madam Ying twitched at the mention of the Hoary Urchin's name. "What has he got to do with your mother?"

Lotus noted Madam Ying's jealous tone. So, she still has feelings for him. Why else would she assume there was a dalliance between him and Mama? I'll toy with her a little first.

Lotus bowed her head and sighed. "He was the reason she died."

Madam Ying eyed the girl, her suspicions confirmed, it seemed. Such smooth, unblemished skin. Such grace and beauty.

My looks, even in the full bloom of youth, would seem homely by comparsion, she thought bitterly. If she takes after her mother's appearance, he might well …

"Don't get any ideas. My mother was celestial and that Zhou Botong is as boorish as a bull. Only a blind woman would fall for him."

The insult set Madam Ying's mind at ease, but she could not resist a caustic remark. "Since love has favored that boy of yours, thick as a pig as he is, why would it not smile on a boorish bull? How did … How did he cause your mother's passing?"

"I'm not talking to you anymore. You're mean!" Lotus flicked her sleeve and stormed off.

"Wait! I take it back. He's very, very smart." Madam Ying would do anything to appease the girl if it meant a chance to learn more about Zhou Botong's fate.

Lotus turned her eyes on Madam Ying. "He's not smart at all, but he's honest and true-hearted. He'll always be good to me, even if the heavens come crashing down. The Old Urchin didn't set out to hurt Mama, but if it weren't for him she wouldn't have died. My father shattered the Urchin's legs and locked him up, but later he regretted it. A culprit to every wrong, a lender to every debt. Who killed your child? You should go to the ends of the world to seek them out. What's the point of shifting the blame onto another?"

The words hit Madam Ying like a blow to the head. She stood on the spot, dazed, utterly lost for words.

"Papa came to understand that, and freed the Hoary Urchin—"

"So, I don't need to rescue him…"

"You think you could free him if Papa didn't want to let him go?"

After Madam Ying had left Dali and made a new home for herself in the dark swamp, she had searched high and low for Zhou Botong without any luck. One day, the whispers reached her—he might be imprisoned by Apothecary Huang on Peach Blossom Island.

His resolute departure was branded on her memory, and she knew that, without a seismic change of circumstances, he would not consider a reunion. Though she was afraid for him, the rumors gave her hope. Of course, she did not wish ill on the love of her life, but this could be a chance to turn his heart toward her. If she rescued him, surely he would look back on their brief moment of bliss …

So, she set off for Peach Blossom Island and found herself trapped in the mazelike landscape for three days and three nights. Far from freeing him, she almost starved to death and needed rescuing herself—by mute servants sent by Apothecary Huang, who guided her safely off the island.

When she returned home, she focused her mind on learning the art of reckoning, so she could overcome the complex defenses that protected the island. The news that Zhou Boutong had been released shook her to the core. Her heart was tugged in all directions by a conflict of emotions—a simultaneous assault of sweet joy, bitter pangs, sour stings and fiery rage.

"The Urchin has always done what I ask of him without question," Lotus said with a smirk. "If you want to see him, come with me. I will act as your matchmaker as a thank-you for saving my life."

Heat rushed to Madam Ying's cheeks as her heart hammered in her chest.

A loud clap snapped Lotus out of her self-congratulatory mood. She thought a few well-chosen words had turned bloodshed into wedlock, but the hard frost on Madam Ying's face and the violence with which she struck her hands together behind her back said otherwise.

"A half-grown wench like you has his ear?" Madam Ying scoffed, her voice shrill. "Why does he listen to you? Because you're pretty? I've done you no kindness, and I seek nothing from you in return. Step aside, now. If you drag your feet—"

"Oh dear, you want to do away with me!"

"Old Heretic Huang might intimidate a lot of people, but not me—I fear nothing and no one. Not the heavens; not the earth."

"If you kill me, who will give you the answer to those three questions?"

Madam Ying had lost sleep and appetite over the reckoning problems Lotus had left her with. She first came to her studies as a means to save Zhou Botong, but soon, it was sheer curiosity that was propelling her forward, even though she knew her ability to solve such puzzles was of little use, for Apothecary Huang's understanding would always be heavens beyond hers. At Lotus's prompting, the questions returned to her, word for word, and she was once more overcome by the urge to get to the bottom of them.

"I'll explain, if you let me live." Lotus reached for the oil lamp by the Buddha and placed it on the ground. Then she took out one of her throwing needles and scratched its point against the floor tiles.

Madam Ying watched in awe as Lotus arrived at the solution, step by step, to "The Sindhu written calculation of the seven brilliances and nine luminaries." She then moved on to the second, more complicated, puzzle: "The problem of distributing silver and issuing rice to soldiers whose numbers are conscripted in cubic multiples."

"Wondrous!" Madam Ying gushed as Lotus scratched out the equation. "The answer to the last question is twenty-three, but, however hard I tried, I could not come up with the formula that leads me to that number."

She repeated the question under her breath:

"Here are objects whose number is unknown: counted by threes two remains, counted by fives three remains, counted by sevens two again remains. How many are there?"

"Let me show you," Lotus said. "Reckon, here, means divide. Divide by three, then multiply what remains by seventy. Divide by five, then multiply what remains by twenty-one. Divide by seven, then multiply what remains by fifteen. Add these three numbers together; if it's not larger than one hundred and five, then it's correct. With larger numbers, you can then minus one hundred and five or a multiple of one hundred and five."

Madam Ying mumbled Lotus's explanation under her breath as she tried it out.

"You don't have to swallow that whole, there's a poem that explains it:

Three walk in the rare age of seventy,

Five plum trees with twenty-one sprigs,

Seven sons united at half-moon,

Take five and a hundred and you shall see."

Madam Ying fumed as she listened. This imp must have learned my past and composed this verse to mock me. The first line is insinuating that I have served two men, and the third line is a swipe at the fact that I only spent half a month with Zhou Botong … She was wary of anything that could be construed as a reference to her ignominious past.

"Enough of your prattling!" Madam Ying barked. Though she could see little through the gloom, she had gained a sense of the temple's layout and concluded that King Duan's chamber must be in a courtyard beyond this one. She had also realized the girl's aim was to slow her progress, and she had no desire to dally with Apothecary Huang's daughter, who, despite her tender years, was as full of tricks as her father.

Why am I wasting time on these stupid reckoning problems when I've got a much more important task to attend to? She marched forward, stepping around the Buddha and making for the doorway behind the altar.

Pitch black. Not a speck of light.

"Duan Zhixing, come and meet me. Why hide in the dark?" Madam Ying shouted. Deep in hostile territory, she would rather err on the side of caution.

It was Lotus, not Sole Light, who replied. "He had the lamps extinguished so you wouldn't be nervous."

"Huh!" Madam Ying narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "I am destined for hell. Why would I cringe from a little light?"

Lotus took out a tinderbox from her dress and bent down by Madam Ying's feet, cradling a flickering flame.

A clay teacup, half filled with oil and with a twine of cotton for a wick. Next to it, a bamboo stick jutted out of the earth, its end filed into a spike. Madam Ying had not anticipated anything like this.

While Lotus flitted around the courtyard kindling the makeshift lamps, Madam Ying was counting. One hundred and thirteen cups, each accompanied by a spike. The ground glowed like the starry night sky.

Madam Ying was mystified. What is this configuration? The Plum Blossom Stakes? But that kung fu is usually practiced with either seventy-two or one hundred and eight spikes. These aren't organized in any discernible order. Not the Nine Halls. Not the Eight Trigrams. Not the Five Petals of the Plum Blossom. Could she be wearing shoes with metal soles? That must be it. How else would she be able to walk among them without getting hurt? I can't outmaneuver her when she's so well prepared … I'll push my way through, pretending I haven't noticed them.

Madam Ying strode forward, but it was difficult to avoid the stakes.

"What's all this? I haven't got time to play." A swipe of her foot knocked over five or six spikes.

"Hey! You can't do that!"

She took no notice of Lotus and continued kicking left and right.

"Fine, if you're going to be a brute, I'll extinguish the lamps. I hope you can remember where the spikes are."

This gave Madam Ying pause. What if they all come out now and attack me? she thought. They know the layout of the stakes, but I'll be skewered alive! I need to cross this courtyard now! She summoned her qi, urging herself on.

"You really know no shame." Lotus planted herself in Madam Ying's way, armed with the Dog Beater.

The bamboo cane, wielded sideways, whirled toward Madam Ying's face in an emerald blur. The older woman chopped a palm down, expecting to split the flimsy weapon in two. She had never considered the teenage girl a martial threat, yet, little did she know, she was facing a move from the Block permutation of Dog-Beating kung fu, which would morph into a ruthless counterattack the second it was challenged.

The tip of the cane rapped sharply on the back of Madam Ying's hand. Although no acupoint of note was hit, it was a painful blow, and her fingers were instantly numbed. But she would not let this momentary setback cloud her judgment. Assuming a defensive stance, she appraised her opponent.

How come this waif is so skilled? Her father must have taught her all he knows, she said to herself, as she recalled the trip to Peach Blossom Island and how she had been pushed to the brink of death without ever setting eyes on the Master himself. She did not know that Lotus was tapping in to a repertoire known only to the chiefs of the Beggar Clan, and that, if Apothecary Huang were on the receiving end, he too would be stumped by its intricacies.

In this short moment while Madam Ying stayed on the defensive and deliberated her next move, Lotus had been maintaining the Block variation with her hands, while flitting between lamps and spikes like a butterfly, kicking out more than half of the one hundred and thirteen lights with the tip of her shoe. It was a marvelous display, for she extinguished the flames without toppling the cups, spilling the oil or dislodging the bamboo stakes.

This fleet footwork was one of Apothecary Huang's cherished inventions, Swirling Leaf Kick. Lotus's demonstration was neat and tidy, but Madam Ying could tell that the girl had yet to harness the technique's full potential, for these movements were more predictable and straightforward than her work with the cane.

She's only just recovered from her injury. Her primal qi is still impaired, Madam Ying reminded herself. If I focus on her footing, I can take her out in a few dozen moves.

Only a handful of lamps in the northeastern corner of the courtyard were left flickering in the night breeze. The rest of the temple grounds had been plunged once more into darkness.

The cane flashed twice. Madam Ying shuffled back, scanning the yellowish gloom for a safe place to take shelter. Taking advantage of her opponent's retreat, Lotus vaulted high with aid of the Dog Beater and whirled a sleeve in the direction of the only source of light remaining. The fabric unfurled with the full force of Splitting Sky Palm. The last few lamps went out instantly.

How do I fight in the dark? Every step I take, I run the risk of my foot being impaled, Madam Ying said to herself. Then she groaned as she heard Lotus's voice ring out once more.

"Now, let's play! I hope you've memorized the position of the spikes. If you subdue me in thirty moves, I'll let you see King Duan."

"You've spent hours training here," the older woman retorted. "I've only caught a glimpse."

"In that case, light a lamp, rearrange the stakes, and then we'll fight." Lotus relished the thought of triumphing over Madam Ying on her terms.

So we're competing on powers of recall, now … I haven't come here to play games, Madam Ying told herself. I need to preserve my strength for taking vengeance. I know what to do …

"Very well. This old crone will play with the little fledgling." She took out her own tinder and flint, and lit an oil lamp on the ground.

"Why do you call yourself an old crone?" Lotus was making conversation to slow Madam Ying down. "You're more alluring than most girls of sixteen. I can see why King Duan was so smitten, back then, and why his heart is still yours, all these years later."

Madam Ying had repositioned a dozen or so bamboo spikes by now, but she faltered at Lotus's words. "Smitten? He barely noticed my existence in the palace."

"Didn't he teach you kung fu?"

"Ha, what a great honor!"

"I know why! He was practicing Cosmos neigong. He couldn't get too close to you."

Madam Ying snorted. "What do you know, little girl? Where do you think the Crown Prince came from?"

Lotus cocked her head, considering the question. "Hmmm … It was before Cosmos neigong."

Madam Ying curled her lips and said no more, busying herself with the rearranging of the stakes, though the exchange continued to swirl around in her mind.

Lotus paid close attention, committing every new position to memory, since one false step, even by a couple of inches, would mean a bloody hole in her foot.

"King Duan didn't save your son because he loved you," Lotus said, out of the blue. "That's the reason why."

"What do you know? He loved me, did he?" Pure vitriol dripped from her words.

"He was jealous of the Hoary Urchin. Why would he feel that way if he didn't love you? He would have saved your child, but he saw the handkerchief with the lovebirds wrapped over the baby's belly. Pity the hair that grows gray before its time! You wanted to grow old with the Urchin and that broke King Duan's heart. He wanted death to end his pain!"

Madam Ying had never imagined that a king could harbor such feelings for a consort. For a moment, she stopped what she was doing, lost to the past.

"You should turn back," Lotus said, breaking the silence.

"Are you going to make me?"

"Your wish is my command. If you can get past me, I won't stand in your way. But if you can't…?"

"I'll never come back. And you won't have to live with me for a year."

"Agreed! I must say, though I rather enjoy your company, I wasn't looking forward to staying so long in that stinky mucky place."

All the while, Madam Ying had not stopped repositioning the spikes. About three score of them had now been moved.

"I'm done." She extinguished her lamp and slashed her claws at Lotus through the blackness.

Sensing the danger, Lotus swiveled at an angle, placing her foot down precisely between two spikes that Madam Ying had just re-deployed, then speared the Dog Beater at the woman's shoulder.

Madam Ying took no notice of her counterattack. She marched forward—clack, clack, clack—crunching the spikes underfoot.

Argh! Lotus realized she had been outsmarted. The woman had snapped the sticks when she replaced them. How did I not foresee that?

7

A glimmer of light shone from a room at the far side of the rear courtyard. Madam Ying pushed open the doors.

An elderly monk sat on a prayer mat. He was wrapped in a thick kasaya that reached up to his cheeks, and a silvery beard flowed down his chest. His head was bowed, his eyes lowered. He was meditating. The four disciples, together with a handful of aged monks and young novices, stood to attention at his side.

The logger went up to the seated monk when Madam Ying entered and touched his palms together in a Buddhist greeting, "Shifu, Consort Liu is here."

The monk gave a slight nod, but said nothing.

A single oil lamp burned in the chamber, but its wavering flame was too weak to highlight the details of the monk's face. Madam Ying was aware that King Duan had cut himself off from the secular world, but she could not have predicted that a mere decade of seclusion would turn a strapping, regal man in his prime into this wizened, withered old thing. Lotus's words came back to her mind.

Perhaps he did feel something for me, she whispered to herself, and her grip on the dagger slackened.

Spread on the floor in front of King Duan was her son's undervest, refashioned from the love token she had bestowed on Zhou Botong. The handkerchief with the lovebirds. Her jade bracelet had been placed upon it. Her first gift when she entered the palace. Her time as a consort in the Dali court flashed before her eyes. Arriving at the palace. Learning kung fu from the king. Meeting the love of her life. Her heart being trampled by that very man. Though he left her, she bore him a son—his birth, his death … his pleading eyes as his insides were ripped apart by pain. He was just a toddler, but that look conveyed a thouand, ten thousand words, each of them reproaching his mother for doing nothing to ease his suffering.

Her heart hardened.

She raised the dagger. Strength coursed to her wrist.

She thrust. At his heart. Until the whole blade was buried in his chest.

The moment the knifepoint pierced his flesh felt a little strange to Madam Ying. Given King Duan's martial sophistication, she knew one thrust might not be enough to finish him off. She tightened her grip on the hilt, ready to pull the dagger out and plunge it into his heart again.

She tugged. Once. Twice. The blade would not budge. Was it caught in his ribs?

Madam Ying had rehearsed this one stab to the heart tens of thousands of times. She wielded the deadly weapon in one hand, while the other wove an unremitting defensive pattern to protect her flanks and her back.

A king would inevitably be surrounded by dozens of guards.

She pulled again. The dagger simply would not shift.

The four disciples were lunging at her, howling, outraged.

She had done what she had set out to do. This was no place to tarry. She let go of the blade and leaped out of the room.

She stole one last look from the doorway.

King Duan was clutching his chest with one hand. He was in agony.

Revenge was hers at last, but she felt nothing. No elation, no relief.

He never uttered a word of reproach—about my faithlessness, about the son I bore my lover. Madam Ying was considering the past in a way she never had before. He freed me from my obligation and offered his blessings for my marriage to his rival. He didn't try to stand in the way of my happiness—it was that whoreson Zhou Botong who spurned me. He even let me stay on in the palace. He could have punished me. He could have sentenced me to death. But he didn't. Instead, he gave me a richer allowance from the palace treasury. He ordered men to plant trees to shield my hermitage in the black swamp. He has been sending food and supplies so I won't go without. All these years, he hasn't stopped looking after me. He has made sure I want for nothing. He has treated me very well—better than I deserve …

For more than a decade, the only memory she had kept of King Duan was his flint-hearted refusal to save her son's life, the only feeling she had had for him was rancor, and yet, this one stroke of the knife had revealed all the kindness he had shown her.

Sighing, she tore her eyes from the dying king and dragged her mind from her memories to focus on her escape.

She came face to face with another monk standing in the courtyard just outside the room. Hands held together in a Buddhist greeting. Looking at her with affection.

She knew that high nose bridge and strong jawline well. The lamplight from the room might have been weak, but there was no mistaking that she was looking at her king.

Could he be a ghost?

No, he is real and he is King Duan.

Her skin prickled and she let out a scream.

Did I kill the wrong man?

Madam Ying turned to look at the monk she had just stabbed. He was climbing to his feet and shrugging off his vestments. He gave his beard a tug and it fluttered to the floor.

Guo Jing!

LOTUS'S GAMBLE was inspired by an age-old stratagem known as Cicada Sheds Skin, for, when that insect moults, the empty shell hanging on the branches still retains the outline of its shape, as though it had never left the tree. In her version, the hollow slough was Guo Jing, disguising himself as Reverend Sole Light so he could take Madam Ying's blade on the monk's behalf.

To put the plan in motion, Guo Jing ambushed the Martial Great, locking his pressure points. He also neutralized the monk's brother-in-faith from Sindhu, in case he turned out to be well trained in combat, though in reality the man knew no kung fu at all.

Lotus's role was to delay the vengeful woman long enough for the four disciples to dress Guo Jing as their shifu, which involved helping him wash off the mud from the lotus pond, shaving his head, attaching their master's beard to the young man's face and wrapping him in a monk's habit.

The four men carried out Lotus's instructions to the letter, but they were laden with guilt. Not only were they openly defying their shifu's command to let Madam Ying take her revenge, they were also forced to manhandle him and remove his beard to provide Guo Jing with a credible disguise. The worst part of all was having to let the young man risk his life as the body double—all because of their own martial shortcomings. To falter even slightly when struck with Madam Ying's dagger would mean certain death.

Guo Jing had devoted much thought to what he would do when the moment came. He took advantage of the swathes of fabric enveloping him to conceal his arms within the garment's folds. He caught the flat surface of the blade between his fingers, but even his powerful inner strength could not hold back Madam Ying's determined thrust. The point of the dagger sank half an inch into his chest, narrowly missing his ribs. He could have worn the Hedgehog Chainmail, but they could not risk Madam Ying realizing that she had driven the dagger into metal instead of flesh. Every last detail had to be carried out to perfection if they were to deceive her, for she would return if she thought her revenge had failed.

Sole Light's appearance now upended Lotus's meticulous plan.

It turned out that Guo Jing, wary of causing the monk harm, had only locked the least important of his pressure points. In spite of the day's exertions and the aftereffects of the poison, Sole Light still had some command of his inner kung fu. While everyone was busy with Madam Ying, he was willing his energy around his body in an effort to free himself, returning to his chamber just as the woman was making her escape.

"GIVE THE dagger back to her."

Reluctantly, Guo Jing handed the weapon over.

Ashen-faced, Madam Ying received it, unsure what this gesture meant.

What punishment will he mete out? she asked herself, staring at the blade in her hand. When she looked up, she was surprised to see him unwrapping his kasaya.

"Let her leave in peace," he ordered his disciples as he pulled open his undershirt. Then he turned to Madam Ying, his countenance serene. "Here, plunge your knife where you will. I have waited a long, long time for this."

His gentle tone struck her like a thunderbolt. She could even detect tenderness in his eyes. Once more, she was reminded of the magnanimity he had shown her, and the thought of it was washing away the bile she had wallowed in for so many years.

"I have wronged you." The dagger slipped from her fingers, clattering to the ground.

She ran into the night, her face buried in her hands.