Sitting across from him was his cousin Han Zhan. The two of them were a huge contrast to each other. Han Xin exuded ethereal grace and Han Zhan bore the rugged lines of a warrior. His eyes were sharp and his hands calloused from wielding a sword.
"More?" Han Zhan asked as he poured out the fragrant brew, steam curling upward like incense. The porcelain cups clinked, and Han Zhan's gaze lingered on the delicate patterns.
"Thanks," he replied his voice low.
"We need more osmanthus cakes," said Han Zhan having realised that he had eaten most of them. Ridden with guilt he didn't wait for a waiter. Instead, he placed his sheathed sword on the table and got up.
Han Xin watched him go, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. The porcelain plate lay empty with only a few crumbs left after his cousin unwittingly devoured the cakes.
As Han Zhan disappeared downstairs he raised the rim of his teacup to his lips. The brew was warm, fragrant and soothing to the soul. But then, a murmur suddenly reached his ears. It was a delicate skirmish of voices coming from the nearby street.
Two girls, no older than seven stood in the street below. Each of the girls held a doll in their hand. One doll wore a red robe, its painted features serene and the other, a faded blue, its stitched mouth downturned.
"It's not fair!" said the one with the doll dressed in red. She stomped her foot her cheeks puffed up. "Yours is prettier, Mei. I want it."
Mei, her sister, held her doll protectively. "But this one is mine, Lian. You chose first."
"But I want it," said Lian her ponytail bouncing as she tried to grab her sister's doll.
"Behave yourself otherwise I will tell master that you used a curse word," threatened Mei but Lian wasn't at all terrified.
Han Xin listened, amused. Their squabble was a microcosm of human existence. It was like an eternal tug-of-war between desire and possession.
"Pretty," Lian insisted, her cheeks flushed. "I want it." Han Xin was fully invested in this drama. He took a sip of his tea his head lowered slightly but his ears were sharp.
Mei's eyes softened. "Lian, master said beauty isn't everything. Our dolls have stories. This one"—she gestured to the blue-robed doll—"has seen storms and sunsets. And mine knows secrets whispered by the moon." She was spouting nonsense and Lian could see through the BS thus she didn't let it go.
"But mine is plain!" her voice trembled. "I want the moon's secrets too."
Before Mei could reply, a young man in his late teens or early twenties walked over interrupting their fight. He was a stern figure in ink-black robes. His voice cut through the air like a blade.
"If you keep fighting over dolls I will confiscate them and both of you won't have dolls to play with," he said, his tone unyielding.
"Master, that's unfair. She is the one complaining," said Mei while pointing at her sister. Lian didn't want to be thrown under the bus. She fired back despite being in the wrong. The two little girls quarrelled like aunties at the fish market.
"Master, you see how she is so mean. She even used a bad word," snitched Mei and Lian yelled back,
"You taught me the word and you said it's another way to say please."
The young man's face cracked. His lips twitched before he spat out, "I shouldn't have killed your father. I should have turned him into a ghost puppet and had him raise you." The girls immediately fell silent. The dolls hung forgotten, their painted eyes ridden with guilt.
Han Xin almost spat out his tea. He coughed lightly as he reached for his handkerchief. What did the young man mean by killing their father? Just then Han Zhan returned with osmanthus cakes piled high on the plate. He blinked at Han Xin whose eyes were teary. "Are you okay?"
Han Xin looked outside but the three people were gone. The streets were bustling with people but the three were nowhere to be found.
Han Xin's pulse raced as he leapt from the restaurant window. Even if one wanted to call it a misunderstanding how could one explain it? He sprinted through narrow alleys looking for the three figures but it was as though they had vanished, leaving no trace. It was as though they had dissolved like mist.
Han Zhan finally caught up, his sword at his side. "Xin-ge, who are you looking for?"
"The girls," Han Xin said his voice filled with concern. "Did you see them? They were holding dolls."
Han Zhan frowned. "Dolls? What, were they possessed dolls or—?"
"No," Han Xin interrupted. "The young man who was with them killed their father. They must be in danger." Han Zhan finally understood. With what they stood for they couldn't just let this go. Together, they retraced their steps and ended up back at the restaurant but there was no one.
"Perhaps," Han Zhan said, "it's a misunderstanding."
"Maybe?" Han Xin said while looking up at the window he had been sitting at earlier. "But we can't take chances. Let's go check at the docks." They soon reached the riverbank but there was no sign of them.
"They couldn't have gone that far?" said Han Zhan but Han Xin didn't respond. He was looking at the passers-by searching for that familiar stern face.
"Tomorrow," Han Zhan continued to say, "we leave for Bai Ting town."
Han Xin nodded. "We can report to the authorities in case they see them," he said as they walked back.
***
Xiang Yu had no idea that his off-handed remark was over heard and that he was now a person wanted for questioning in Chang'an City. Yes, he had killed their father but their father murdered their mother and almost killed Lian. If a wounded Mei hadn't run out for help and coincidentally bumped into him during his night hunt both girls would be dead. He killed the man and because Lian was on the verge of death he asked her if she wanted to live.
The little girl who didn't want to leave her sister used her last strength to nod her head. Xiang Yu used his demon blood to save her and she became a demon cultivator and so did Mei. From then on they followed him as his little disciples.