The Orchid Farmer's Sacrifice

by Fred Yu

  The entire compartment was filled with wooden cases, all of them containing crossbow bolts. The spiral cylinder was attached to every bolt.

  Feng paused to gaze into her lovely face, and with a weary exhale he leaned over to whisper into her ear. “These men have been brainwashed,” he said. “We may need to do something drastic, or they won’t talk.”

  He walked back up to the deck, untied the first prisoner, and held a needle to his eye before leading him to the door and pushing him into the cabin. He sealed the door and turned around to stare at the prisoners on deck.

  Moments later the most hideous screams emerged from the storage compartments. The nine men on deck looked at each other in horror.

  Feng browsed each face, observing every expression and body movement—and then he saw it. A soldier with a chubby face was shaking. It was slight, but he gave himself away.

  Ming emerged with her hands stained with blood. She shook her head. “That one didn’t talk. I need another.”

  Feng grabbed the closest prisoner and tossed him to the cabin door, making sure the soldier with the chubby face was watching. Ming hauled the new victim into the lower compartments, and almost instantly the screams emerged. This time the cries were frantic, the high-pitched voice quavering with panic. The soldiers on deck turned to each other in fear.

  Feng grimaced. What was happening? Had he agreed to torture prisoners?

  It had to be done. Ming did promise not to cause permanent damage to anyone.

  The chubby soldier looked helpless. Ming came back on deck again, her robes stained with blood, and Feng knew he wouldn’t need to do this over and over again. He grabbed the chubby soldier, visibly shaking now, and pushed him through the door. Ming wiped the blood from her hands and followed.

  “Wait,” Feng said, pretending to change his mind. “You didn’t get any answers. Let me question this one.”

  Ming spun around and planted a sharp kick into the soldier’s buttocks, sending him sprawling down the stairs. “Use the flesh dissolver.”

  “Not if he talks.”

  Feng stepped into the main cabin and down to the lower level, where he found his prisoner curled into a ball. He pulled out the small porcelain jar, still corked, and weighed it in his hand.

  “F-Flesh dissolver?” the soldier asked.

  “Answer a few questions, and I won’t use it.”

  His chubby face trembled. “You scum! You sick, disgusting . . .”

  The soldier spat at him, and Feng stepped back to avoid it. His face darkened, his eyes narrowed into a glare, and he uncorked the bottle. The chubby soldier began to shake.

  “You have one chance to hear my offer before I dissolve one of your feet,” Feng said, his voice low and monotonous.

  The soldier’s trembling intensified. “No . . . Don’t.”

  “What’s your name, soldier?”

  “Jin. My surname is Jin.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Hunan.”

  Feng smiled. “You like spicy food?”

  “Yes . . .”

  “Do you have a woman at home?”

  “Yes. I have a wife.”

  “Anyone else on this boat from Hunan?”

  “No, sir. Just me.”

  “Listen to me, Jin,” Feng said. “I’ll give you one chance to change your name and disappear forever. Everyone will think I’ve killed you, and no one will go to Hunan to look for you. Do you understand?”

  “What . . . What do you want from me?”

  “Answer my questions, and I’ll let you out the back of the boat. You can swim away and disappear forever. I’ll tell everyone I killed you because you didn’t cooperate. Or hold your peace, and I’ll dissolve your limbs one at a time. But you’ll still be alive when I start dissolving your face.”

  “No . . . Please.”

  “Your wife is waiting for you at home. Go back to her plump and clean, or return missing all your limbs. She won’t look at you again. She’ll find another man.”

  “Just . . . kill me, dammit!”

  Feng shook his head. “I don’t want to. I want the killing to stop here. But if I don’t get my answers, I will torture you so the others can hear you scream. Then, I’ll bring the next man down here and offer him the same deal. Eventually, one of them will talk. Why give away your happiness? Why watch your wife go off with another man because your face has been dissolved? Someone up there will take my offer. It might as well be you.”

  Jin clenched his fists, tears streaming down his cheeks and his lips quivering. But no words emerged.

  Feng took a step closer. “I want to stop the Mongols as much as you do. But we need to take the battle into their lands, not ours. The Judge made a mistake. We should not be defending our cities when the Silencer has already breached our walls. We need to attack him in his own camp, in Mongolia. So, I need to buy superior weapons and move my armies into the right positions. Do you understand?”

  Jin swallowed hard and nodded. Feng crouched down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You have my word. I live to defend this country.”

  “R-Really?”

  “I need to know where these weapons came from. I need to be able to buy the same stuff so I can attack the Silencer when he is unprepared.”

  “They . . . They came from the Valley of the Headless.”

  Feng could not contain himself and forced a smile. This was turning out better than he had expected. “I know the Orchid Farmer.”

  “You know him?”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t tell me where these Zhuge Nu bolts are being sent. How many more ships are coming this way?”

  Jin gasped. “I don’t know. I heard there would be at least another one tomorrow morning and maybe one more tomorrow night. I’m not sure.”

  “Where did these weapons board the ship? How far upstream?”

  “Only a day on the river,” Jin said, his shaky voice steadier. “The pier is at the mouth of a small river flowing into this one. There is a big rock behind the dock that resembles a rooster. You can’t miss it. But you know everything. Why ask me?”

  “I don’t know where he’s sending these. You can tell me so I can surprise him when I visit him next week.”

  “The ship stops four days from here to the north,” Jin blurted.

  Feng’s face darkened. “North? To defend against the Silencer?”

  Jin shook his head. “I heard yesterday that the Silencer is in China and that he assassinated the prime minister.”

  “What?”

  “He . . . he came with a delegation and pretended to visit the capital to discuss terms of peace. But he actually wanted to assassinate the emperor. He failed and killed the prime minister instead.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Feng asked.

  “That’s what I heard. The Silencer is impossible to kill, and his army may be approaching fast! He killed the prime minister—he must be ready for war. That’s why we need to transport these weapons to our borders as soon as possible. The Silencer is impossible to kill.”

  “No one is impossible to kill,” Feng said in a harsh voice. “Is that what you were told? The Silencer is attacking, so you need to deliver these supplies quickly?”

  “That’s correct,” Jin mumbled. “But the rumors are good ones. The Great Prodigy attacked the Venom Sect based on rumors, and he almost captured the Red Crest.”

  “What rumors?” someone asked from behind. It was Ming’s voice. Feng didn’t know how long she had been standing behind him.

  Jin glanced behind Feng and stumbled away. “No,” he whimpered, already shaking again. “The master said I could go if I answered his questions.”

  Feng held up his hand, aware of Ming’s threatening gaze, and turned back to Jin. “What rumors?” he asked.

  “The . . . the rumors. That the Venom Sect had captured the Red Crest.”

  “Zeng Xi did not mobilize an army in one morning,” Ming said, her voice cold and empty. “Where did these rumors co
me from?”

  The rumors! Suddenly Feng remembered, and the shock scorched through his body.

  “Go,” Feng said to Jin. He slashed apart the ropes tying Jin’s hands. “Leave now. No one will ever find you again.”

  Jin shook off the ropes and scrambled to his feet. He ran for the back of the boat and stumbled on the steps to the upper deck, but he managed to disappear without looking back. Feng heard a distant splash and knew the fat soldier was swimming for shore.

  “The traitor Zhu couldn’t have notified Zeng Xi the morning of the invasion,” Ming said, her voice low. “Zeng Xi knew ahead of time.”

  “He did,” Feng said, his voice trembling. “The morning my sister was abducted, I learned they were after the Red Crest. I didn’t know what it was, but I desperately needed to know who was behind it. I asked my Uncle Shu to release the rumors.”

  “Why?”

  “Whoever attacked the Venom Sect would be the ones after the Red Crest. The enemy would reveal himself . . .”

  “Why the Venom Sect?”

  Feng stalled, speechless for a moment. “You were only a criminal organization to me at the time. Ming, I didn’t know—”

  “And you Chinese are not criminals?” Ming asked, inching away from him, her clenched fists trembling as if experiencing such shock that she couldn’t find a means to release her anger. “You Chinese, who abuse the countries around you. That’s why you’re afraid of the Silencer. A barbarian you cannot defeat. Finally, there’s some balance in the world.”

  “Ming . . .”

  “And how many in our Sect died on the back of Mount Oleander? How many spilled their blood defending our home and our people? All because of a rumor!”

  Feng reached for her hand. She jerked away from him.

  “Get away from me, Commander Mu!”

  She spun around and bolted up the stairs. Feng rushed after her. “Ming, wait! I really didn’t mean to—”

  Ming reached back and planted her palm into his chest. Feng choked and crumbled, falling down the stairs and landing hard on the wooden floor. Ming fired a missile at him, a heavy object he could not avoid. He endured the impact on his forehead. The world swooned around him. He thought he would faint.

  “Keep it!” she shouted. Feng held his head, unable to open his eyes. A warm trickle of blood streamed down his face.

  There were screams upstairs, the high-pitched cries of dying men. “No, Ming,” Feng murmured. She was killing the prisoners. It was already too late, but he had to at least try. He climbed to his feet.

  Then he noticed it. On the floor next to him was the missile Ming had thrown onto his forehead. It was the bronze plate embossed with the image of a powerful tiger, the one his father had given him when he was a child.

  Feng picked up his prized possession. He wasn’t sure whether to be happy or not. She had kept his gift to her after all—that is, until that moment.

  Feng forced himself to move, the warm blood trickling down his forehead. He made his way to the upper deck.

  The remaining prisoners were dead. Ming had killed them all.

  Feng leaned against the cabin wall and collapsed into a seated position. Ming was gone. He was all alone on a damaged ship.

  He didn’t know what to do next. Where could he go? The whole world was after the Red Crest. He couldn’t go home, or he would bring calamity to his mother. The old general wanted him to disappear, and he didn’t want to see the old man anyway.

  Even Ming left him. Large teardrops flowed down his cheeks as the magnitude of his situation, which he had suppressed all along, rushed through his body like a single clap of thunder. Nothing he did made sense anymore. How had his life fallen apart in a matter of days?

  Feng held his head in his hands. He was tired, so weary of it all. There was no point in fighting with every ounce of strength, stretching his mind and imagination every step of the way, only to hurt those he loved or to watch them die.

  The modified bolts downstairs in their massive crates were ready for war. Many more of these weapons were being manufactured, and they were coming from the Valley of the Headless.

  He was not a vanguard commander—his father made sure of that. The backup commander always attacked the supply lines.

  Feng steadied. It was up to him to disrupt the enemy supplies. He would go to the Valley of the Headless and kill the Orchid Farmer.

  Would Ming forgive him and come back?

  The thought of Ming brought another lump to his throat. Going to the Valley of the Headless was suicidal. The Orchid Farmer was not an easy target. Even Rustam was wary of him. If Ming followed him to the Valley of the Headless, she would place her own life in danger. Leaving him was for the best. He would never see her again.

  Feng climbed to his feet, searching for something to burn the ship with. Everyone was dead, and there was nothing left to do but destroy the weapons. The ship was armored with steel on the outside but easy enough to burn from the inside. He knew what to do.

  Much later, well before dawn, Feng stood on the shore to watch the ship burn. He had torched the entire vessel and then climbed onto the fallen tree. It didn’t take long for the wooden structure to catch fire and burn from the inside out. Feng waited until the entire ship sank to the bottom of the river. The modified bolts would sit on the river floor forever.

  Chapter 11

  For the rest of the night, Feng walked along the river, heading upstream in the direction the ship had come from. Jin told him there would be at least one other ship moving downriver in the daytime and perhaps one more the following night. He needed to hurry, or he might never find the loading dock.

  He thought about Ming along the way. She would never know he was going after the Orchid Farmer. Perhaps she would catch up from behind, and he would see her again before he died. Or maybe she left to find Iron Spider and regather the Venom Sect.

  His heart felt sore when he thought of how she left him. Now he would never be there to welcome her back into his arms.

  Feng walked quickly for the rest of the day. He traced the riverbank with his steps, occasionally climbing to a higher vantage point to look for a rock that resembled a rooster.

  The sun was beginning to set when he finally saw it on a distant cliff. The strange rock formation protruded from the surface of the mountain, so large it could not have been a man-made carving. Feng stopped to take in the wonders of the landscape for only a moment and then returned to his task ahead.

  He moved with renewed vigor, searching the river below for signs of a dock.

  It didn’t take long. Not far below his vantage point, immediately beneath the strange rock formation, a transport vessel was parked in full view against a small, crude platform, built with thin wooden planks strapped to flimsy posts. Perhaps they dismantled the entire dock between shipments.

  Feng crept closer and listened for the sounds of people. There were none. He crouched down to the ground and crawled to the edge of the river, watching the boat, scanning every detail.

  Once he reached the boat, he stopped for several minutes. Soon, birds began chirping. A squirrel climbed onto the deck of the ship and pranced around. No one was onboard.

  Feng lowered himself onto his side and repositioned his body for a longer wait. He was close to the river bank but hidden behind tall vegetation. He watched the boat–for how long he could not remember. He was drained from traveling through the day, and his eyelids felt heavier and heavier.

  When he awakened to the sound of approaching footsteps, the moon was already high in the heavens. A group of men, none of them carrying torches, were pushing large wheelbarrows toward the ship. There were heavy wooden cases on the wheelbarrows, the same kind Feng found in the first vessel.

  The men were boarding the ship. Once on deck, they carried each wooden case into the lower level.

  Feng turned facedown to his side and withdrew into a crawl. He moved around them and did not stand up until he was past their field of vision. He then climbed to a higher elevati
on, careful not to step on leaves or branches in the dead of night. Some of the men had already emptied their wheelbarrows and proceeded to walk away from the ship. Feng stayed close. Those leaving the ship would lead him to the Valley of the Headless.

  For a long time Feng followed, watching the road the men traveled through. His nap brought new vigor to his limbs. His head was clear, and his thoughts were focused. He would use poison against the Orchid Farmer. The low-class, shameful weapon of the Venom Sect had now become his only instrument for killing.

  Dawn broke sooner than Feng anticipated. He was standing at the edge of the forest, staring at a magnificent mountain range. The road on which the transport workers were traveling led to a narrow pass between two imposing cliffs. Armed guards, at least twenty of them, stood blocking the road. They were not wearing armor, although they carried long pikes, and each had a double-edged sword hanging by his belt.

  The transport workers pushed their empty wheelbarrows past the guards, who acknowledged them with a slight nod. Feng waited, watching every wheelbarrow enter the Valley of the Headless, and then he slipped back into the forest. It was too early in the day and too close to the arrival of the delivery workers to enter the valley. It would be suspicious.

  He found himself a comfortable spot under a tree, sat back, and tried to fall asleep. His eyelids were heavy, but the excitement of killing the monstrous weapons maker and dying in the process prevented him from dozing off.

  Feng knew he wouldn’t escape alive. The road leading into the Valley of the Headless was guarded, and no one knew how many more soldiers were inside. Every blacksmith working under him, from the skilled craftsmen to the water fetchers, were all adept users of the weapons they made. Once inside the Valley of the Headless, there would be no way out.

  Feng would welcome death. But not yet. First, he needed a strong plan to assassinate the Orchid Farmer. If what Ming said was true, the Judge falsified the imperial edict that sent his father into Mongolia. He was not so powerful after all. The Judge could not stand a chance against the Tiger Generals without his advanced weapons.