by Fred Yu
Outside the porch the pouring rain showed no signs of easing. A rapid clap of thunder struck in the distance, followed by low rumbling and flashes of lightning. Not a living soul was in sight on the main street of the town.
“I’ll teach you a palm set called the Infinity Palm,” Han said, folding his sleeves back. “It’s very complicated, but you have the intelligence to learn it quickly.”
“Infinity Palm?”
“Yes, I’m famous for it.”
Ah Go turned his seat around to watch. He poured himself some more liquor and motioned for the waiter to bring another platter of roast pork.
“The Infinity Palm follows a complex pathway that eventually loops back into its original starting point,” Han said. “There’s no end point where the hand withdraws to its original position. That’s why it’s infinite.” Han lifted his hands and moved in interconnecting circles, his wrists, elbows, shoulders, and waist all flowing in conflicting directions. Feng stared, fighting to commit the pattern to memory. He was barely able to mimic the movements. Han glided with his feet, advancing and retreating at strange angles, his body and arms in constant motion. Feng watched his footwork and visualized the directions to which his enemy would retreat. It seemed the palm strikes would force the opponent into one direction, but Han’s footwork anticipated the only path of retreat the opponent could take, guaranteeing he would arrive one step ahead.
Ah Go finished the second ceramic jug and held it upside down over his bowl to ensure he drank the last remaining drop. The innkeeper came with a second platter of roast pork, and Ah Go picked up the Butterfly to slice the meat.
“Would you like a knife, sir?” the innkeeper asked, staring at the massive saber.
“This is a knife,” Ah Go muttered. He picked up another jug and poured himself a drink.
Han lowered his hands. “I’m very fortunate today. I’ve never met anyone who could learn as fast as you. It’s strange you’re not already a great master and world-famous.”
Feng steadied his energy. His face was flushed, and his arms were strained, but he felt strong and eager. “Did I do it well?”
“Absolutely. You’ve learned the first set at an incredible pace. Rest now, and later we’ll use this first set against each other so you can gain some experience in real life application.”
“Sure. Thank you. How many sets are there?”
“Only thirty-six.”
* * *
The rain subsided. People reappeared on the main road, hoping to find a shop with open doors, and various shop owners who had lost business that day did open up again. A few lanterns lined each side of the street, and candlelight from residential rooms glowed from many windows. The innkeeper brought two large lanterns onto the porch and illuminated the space. There were no other customers that night.
Ah Go asked for a third platter of roast pork after he finished the last jug of liquor. The innkeeper stood to the side, hesitating. Feng placed a gold coin in his hand, and his face lit up. “Yes, sir. Absolutely. More meat and more liquor. This . . . this will be enough for you to eat here for the rest of the month.”
Ah Go tilted his head back to laugh. “The tall one hasn’t started drinking yet. You may not have any liquor left by tomorrow morning.”
“Your eighth set needs more work,” Han said, “but you’re already tired. Your body needs to become stronger, or you’ll never be able to use the Infinity Palm at full speed.”
“How do I become stronger?” Feng asked, wiping the sweat from his brows. He slumped back into a chair to catch his breath.
“I’ll teach you a set of breathing exercises that will help focus your energy,” Han replied. “Otherwise, there’s no real shortcut. You’re simply going to have to train hard every day.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work.”
“But we can’t stay here too much longer,” Han said. “We don’t know how far Ko Sun traveled when he encountered the first rumor. You shouldn’t run into him until we’re ready.”
“Ko Sun wouldn’t charge through the villages on a speeding horse. He’s too careful for that. But I agree, we should still get to Zhun Yang village as soon as possible.”
“Can we still get to the next village by tonight?” Ah Go asked.
“Maybe by second watch,” Feng replied. “And Zhun Yang by tomorrow night. That’s where we’ll wait for Han.”
“Take my horse,” Han said. “You can move faster and conserve your energy. I plan to stay here. If Ko Sun is following the rumors you’ve released, he’ll pass by this town and this street.”
“I’ve told the innkeeper,” Feng said, “that he can earn a copper coin if he tells Ko Sun I’ve stopped by to ask for directions.”
Ah Go was already on his feet, his saber strapped across his back. His brown leather shirt had dried, and he flexed his muscles and stretched out his back. “I don’t understand why you’re doing all this to kill Ko Sun. We should wait for him here and kill him when he passes by. I’ll buy a bow and a quiver of arrows in the morning, and we can shoot him down, even if a hundred men are protecting him.”
“We can’t kill him right away,” Feng said. “We need to question him first.”
“Question him?” Han asked.
“He’s a colonel,” Feng said. “He’s high enough in the army to know things. Who is this Judge? Why is he so powerful? What does he really want? Why did he raise a secret army? Why would the Great Prodigy Zeng Xi submit to him when he is next in line to become a Tiger General?” Feng clenched his fists in frustration and despair. “I don’t know anything. I don’t even know if the Judge wants to kill my father.”
There was silence for a moment as Ah Go and Han pondered the predicament with their own deeply held secrets. Perhaps they need to stop the Judge for other reasons, Feng wondered.
“We’ll help you capture him alive,” Han said finally. “But you may not get the answers you’re looking for.”
Feng stepped back to stand between them and dropped to his knees. Han rushed forward to lift him to his feet.
“No need to kneel,” Han said. “We’re here to help you.”
“Why?” Feng asked. “You are both great warriors. Why help someone like me?”
“I have my secrets I haven’t told you,” Han said, “and I have my reasons for being here. I’m sure Ah Go does too. Let’s join hands and accomplish something together without worrying about why. We’re facing a common enemy. Let’s trust each other for that reason alone.”
* * *
By nightfall of the next day, Feng and Ah Go reached the village of Zhun Yang. The following morning Feng gathered the villagers and offered them more gold than they could make in a year, and in return they would help him prepare the battle against Ko Sun. Feng promised none of them would be placed in any danger, and he assured the people he and his companions would leave the village as soon as they captured the villain.
At first the village head was reluctant to cooperate. He did not want armed men lured into his village, and he did not want any killing to take place there. Feng doubled the money on the table and swore to them they would not kill Ko Sun there, and the villagers agreed. It was a fortune the likes of which they had never seen before.
For the rest of the day, Feng and Ah Go supervised the preparations. Without knowing how many people or the weapons Ko Sun would be arriving with, only generic plans could be made. Ko Sun could not embark on a manhunt with heavy equipment; he could only bring light armor and single-handed weapons.
That night Feng borrowed a Wei Chi set and sat down to play by himself.
“What’s this?” Ah Go asked. He sat down with a large jug of liquor.
“Wei Chi. Do you know how to play?”
“I’ve never seen it before.”
Feng looked up in surprise. “Really?”
“So, you’re playing the black pieces or the white pieces?”
“Right now, both. I’m using it to think through some battle formations.”
Ah G
o poured a bowl of liquor and handed it to Feng. He then filled his own bowl and leaned over the gameboard. “Battle formations? How do you play?”
“The white pieces will try to surround the black pieces while the black pieces try to surround the white. Pieces that are completely enclosed are taken.”
“Like real life,” Ah Go said.
“Exactly like real life,” Feng said. “If your lines are thin, you’re more mobile, but the opponent can break through. When your lines are heavy, you’re slow to form, and you’ll give up important positions. But the ground you do occupy is much stronger. It’s about finding a balance between agility and stability, attacking and defending. It’s about preparing your borders while catching your opponent off guard.”
“This sounds like a great game. Can you teach me how to play?”
“You really haven’t seen it before?”
Ah Go shook his head.
“Let’s play together,” Feng said. “I’ll show you.”
Feng reviewed the simple rules of the game, and as the night progressed, he began covering basic strategies. “You have to think like your opponent,” Feng said. “You need to predict where he wants to go and place your pieces around him ahead of time so you can enclose him before he gets there. Knowing your opponent’s character is very important. If he’s impulsive, you can entice him into many small traps and take over his positions one small cluster at a time. If he’s arrogant, you can sacrifice some of your pieces in order to surround his main positions. If he’s proud, you can assume he will never retreat. If he’s timid, you can quickly take over critical positions while he overbuilds his defenses.”
By the time the moon had risen high into the sky, Feng and Ah Go had played for many hours. Suddenly Ah Go grabbed the Butterfly and jumped to his feet.
“It’s me,” a calm voice said outside the house. Han’s voice.
Ah Go laughed. “I didn’t hear your footsteps until you almost reached the door. I should’ve known it was you.”
Feng also stood up. “You’re here. So, Ko Sun already passed our last meeting point?”
“Exactly as you planned. It’ll be another two days before they find us here.” Han stepped through the doors toward the square table in the center of the room. He placed the Dart on the table, reached for Ah Go’s bowl of liquor, and drank it in one gulp.
“They’re two days behind you?” Ah Go asked. “How?”
“They brought a different weapon,” Han said. “They have hostages. Forty women and children.”
“Only women and children?’ Ah Go asked, a frown on his face. “That means the men are already dead.”
“How does Ko Sun know we won’t attack him if he has hostages?” Han asked. “He still doesn’t know who we are, even if he has guessed Feng is baiting him.”
“Feng was hidden in the Orchid Farmer’s room,” Ah Go said. “You hadn’t yet arrived, but somehow he was able to get out. He did it to stop Ko Sun from killing the Orchid Farmer’s last remaining son. Feng was ready to die for it.”
“I see. So, Ko Sun knows Feng cares about the women and children,” Han said, mulling over this information. “So those are the ones he captured.”
“We’ll change our approach and target the civilians first,” Feng said. “It’ll send him a clear message that we don’t care, and his weapon will be neutralized.”
Han lowered the bowl of liquor in his hand. “Did I hear you correctly, Feng?”
“I have a powerful poison. It doesn’t kill when its diluted, but it will still cause a lot of pain. After the pain passes, it’s harmless. We’ll strike the hostages first, then some of the soldiers in front. When Ko Sun sees we’re indiscriminate, he’ll cast the hostages aside to make himself mobile.”
“You’re sure of how the poison works?”
It was clearly outlined in the manual Ming had given him, but Feng could not be certain. “I’ll have an antidote ready,” he said. “Once we capture Ko Sun, we’ll treat the civilians.”
“I’ll test the poison on myself before we use it on women and children,” Han said. He turned to Ah Go. “We must avoid any unnecessary loss of life. Let’s not kill anyone if we don’t have to.”
Ah Go nodded with a smile. “We need more arrows. I’ll shoot the civilians for you.”
* * *
At the first crow of the rooster, Feng climbed out of bed, poured water over his head, and stepped into the open air. Han was already outside, facing the gray of early dawn.
“I heard you like to practice before sunrise,” Han said. “Let’s see your progress.”
Feng slipped in at a strange angle and attacked Han with the Infinity Palm.
“Good!” Han slipped away with equal speed, moving no faster than Feng was able, and stepped in to entangle his opponent’s arms. Feng changed his pattern, alternating long and quick with short and slow.
“Good!” Han said again. He also changed patterns, and as he increased his speed, he pushed Feng into a corner.
They sparred for a long time. Feng’s steps became quicker, more certain, his ability to change direction increasing with every move. It was late morning by the time he collapsed in exhaustion.
“You’re already stronger,” Han said, “and you’ve memorized some very difficult moves to the point that they’ve become part of your reflexes. This kind of progress is unheard of. Drink some water, and we’ll work on the next set.”
Feng climbed to his feet, grabbed a ladle from a nearby water bucket, and drank until he could drink no more. He picked up the bucket, poured the rest of the water over his head, wiped his eyes clear, and turned to Han. “Next set.”
By early afternoon the villagers had returned from their fields. Feng called them together to describe small changes in the upcoming battle. The ambush would now unfold in two stages, one a short distance away where they would attempt to free the hostages and the second where they would attempt to capture Ko Sun. The villagers would perform the same tasks as planned with the exception of a few young men, who were reassigned to help the hostages.
The rest of the day was spent adjusting the preparations. By sunset Feng was confident that everything was in place.
They purchased a small pig from one of the villagers and roasted it. That night they sat around a fire, the dripping oil from the half-eaten pig still crackling in the flames. Large jugs of liquor were lined up behind Ah Go. Feng ate and drank very little. The liquor was almost as bad as the peasant’s drink he had in the first town, even though Ah Go seemed to enjoy every drop of it.
“So, why did your father go to Mongolia?” Ah Go asked, a large pig’s leg in one hand and a bowl of hard liquor in the other.
The question was sudden and direct, and Feng was unprepared. He was not certain why his father had left the City of Stones that day. Had he been ordered to go after the Silencer? That would not explain why he left without proper preparations. Mobilizing an army against an enemy like that took days—if not weeks—of planning. Maybe he left to avoid confronting the Judge.
“He received an imperial edict the night before,” Feng said. “He also learned his daughter was abducted. But he chose to leave instead.”
“Do you know what was in the edict?” Han asked.
Feng shook his head. “I can only guess. General Lo—he’s another Tiger General—received an imperial edict ordering him to go to Mongolia and attack the Silencer. My father must have gotten the same.”
“He didn’t attack the Silencer.” Ah Go bit into the pork and added, “if he moved his army the day after the edict, he was not prepared for war.”
“But to move away the army when my sister was in danger? To leave without even trying to rescue her? Is that even human?”
“What happened to your sister?” Han asked.
Feng realized he never told Han, only Ah Go when they walked together in the rain. He didn’t want to relive the memory of his sister’s throat being slashed, of the disbelief on her face that her life was ending, her eyes pleading t
o him while blood poured from her airway. But he had to tell Han. When he thought there was no one left in the world he could trust, these two incredible warriors appeared in his life and showed over and over again that they were worthy of his trust. He knew that. Somehow, in his gut he knew there was nothing they wanted from him, and so he could trust them.
“My sister was murdered in front of me,” Feng began, “and I did nothing about it. She was so close to where I was standing. I could’ve saved her. I stood there frozen like an idiot while they slit her throat. They didn’t have to do it. They got what they came for. There was no reason to kill her. If my father hadn’t run away, if he’d have sent his entire army of fifty thousand after her, she wouldn’t have died. But he didn’t send anyone. He left her to die.”
Han sighed. “Don’t blame him until you know what really happened, Feng. People often have good reasons for doing what they do. Sometimes people who aren’t honorable still have a reason, even if it is rooted in fear. What man wouldn’t save himself if he could?”
“Not my father,” Feng said, his lips trembling. “He’s a Tiger General. He would not allow his daughter to die so he could save himself. He would not be afraid of the Judge. Now I hate him. I hate him.”
Feng grabbed the bowl next to him, which Ah Go had filled much earlier, and swallowed the contents with one gulp. The sting of the cheap liquor burned its way to his stomach, and the effects of the alcohol struck him at once. The lump in his throat cleared. Ah Go reached to fill his bowl again, and Feng couldn’t wait.
“I was raised by my martial arts master,” Han said. “He was one of the greatest in the world. His wife was also a martial arts master—an incredible one. She was the personal guard for the princess of Dali when she was young. She was the only mother I knew, even though I was never allowed to call her Mother. I learned from both of them. No one else in the world studied both of their martial arts.”
Han lowered his eyes, lifted his bowl, and allowed the alcohol to trickle into his mouth. He looked at Feng, then Ah Go, and continued. “She drank a ginseng soup every night. When I was a child, I brought her the soup before bedtime every single night. I was also very fond of her daughter. I thought I would marry her. One day, for no reason and without warning, her daughter accused me of watching her while she bathed. I was caught off guard, and I didn’t know how to respond. The woman I wanted to call Mother beat me savagely that day. She did it in front of everyone, and she told me she would kill me if I ever did something so disgraceful again.”
