by Jeremy Han
Ji Gang replied just as softly, “Western Depot men. They are drawn from the eunuch battalions to form a secret police to fight enemies that are beyond the Dong Chang.” There was a trace of bitterness as he continued. “They are not only skilled warriors, but are also versed in sorcery – to fight enemies like the woman with many hands.” He scoffed.
“Sorcery?” Zhao could not believe his ears.
“And eunuchs now have their own army?” Li queried. “What the hell!”
“Damn right they do,” Ji Gang replied. “They are the result of rulers who did not trust their own loyal warriors and who wallow in superstitious fear. They are even more ruthless than the Eastern Depot in stamping out opposition. Anyone can be accused of witchcraft and executed, though usually their only crime is to offend the Grand Eunuch,” he explained as his voice tensed.
Zhao wondered at the irony of Ji Gang getting angry at the Xi Chang’s cruelty. “The world’s turned upside down,” he muttered.
“What’s the plan?” Li whispered.
“We go on. We do not have time to change the plan now,” Zhao confirmed.
“I never thought eunuchs are this huge,” Li said. “Are they as good as us?”
Ji Gang grinned mirthlessly. “Just because they don’t have balls does not mean they can’t fight. But what makes them deadly is their utter loyalty to Kong.”
Eunuchs were men that, with a flick of a knife, had lost their past and gave up their futures. They had nothing to look forward to, and no families to return to. The court, or their commander, was everything to them.
“And they outnumber us,” Zhao observed.
83
The four men guarding the entrance were aware of the approaching cart. The leader calmly observed them, mildly surprised. He knew no one was allowed here, but he did not dismiss the matter out of hand immediately. As a eunuch he knew how screwed-up imperial bureaucracy was, but something told him that this was even more irregular than it should have been. It was something in the approaching men - the problem lay with them.
The leader’s designation was Tiger, and the man next to him Dragon. The two men facing him were Snake and Rat. They were code-named after the zodiac animals in the Chinese mythical calendar. They did not know each other’s real names and their identities had been erased. They existed for Kong Wei’s purposes alone.
Tiger’s gaze fell on the men. In the gloom he could not make out their features beneath the straw hats they wore. It was not unusual, servants did that all the time. The men were about fifty meters away from him. His hand tightened on the icy grip of his sabre and he gripped it harder as his mind worked to process the irregularities his instinct had detected. He frowned.
Fifty meters….The wheels of the cart grinding against the rough, stony ground sounded loud in the deathly still grey morning.
Ji Gang slipped on an opera mask to hide his identity. It was the black-faced judge from the Sung dynasty, a popular figure immortalised in opera for his righteousness. Ji Gang was well-known whereas Zhao and Li were forgotten warriors of the previous generation. The last time Ji Gang fought the Acrobat fifteen years ago the man had worn a mask. Today though he was wearing his enemy’s mask, fighting alongside them. Enemies change like the seasons.
“The two to the back are mine,” he whispered. “Get ready.”
Thirty meters.
Tiger knew something was wrong, but as the cart closed the distance he still could not figure it out.
“Be ready,” he commanded his men. “Something is wrong.” He scanned the cart but nothing in it looked out of place. It was filled with brooms, rakes, and other equipment. There were some huge sacks which could possibly hide something, or they could be used for collecting the burnt remains of the sacrifice, which would take place soon.
What is wrong?
His hand was still on the weapon, hesitating whether to raise it to call a halt or not when he suddenly saw it as clear as day.
Their gait! Cleaners don’t balance their weight so evenly, only martial artists do. And even then, only the highly skilled!
Suddenly he saw the image of a tiger prowling, all four limbs moving evenly and with purpose. These ‘cleaners’ were like that. No servant had that kind of bounce in their walk. These men were ready for a fight, and it showed in their bearing. Instead of lifting his hand to command the approaching men to halt for inspection, he drew his blade.
“MEN! TO ARMS!”
“NOW!” Ji Gang yelled.
Ji Gang rammed the cart forward and moving with the momentum he leapt over the cart and somersaulted over the two Xi Chang men in front. Sabres flashed from the two leading men in blue but the commander had gone past them and into the attack path of the two agents code-named Snake and Rat. Just as the two men drew their weapons Ji Gang executed a mid-air scissors kick, his left leg thrusting hard into Rat’s face while his right struck Snake’s. He landed and rolled, drawing his two opponents away from the front just as Zhao and Li Jing reached their targets.
Zhao dashed forward, his left hand bunched like claws as he lunged at the man known as Dragon, while his right hand gripping the sabre tucked under the stack of brooms as he drew it in a flash. Dragon took two steps back to dodge the claw as the hand flashed before his face, then quicker than the eye could see his weapon was out as well. The alleyway reverberated with the sound of clashing steel as Zhao responded just as quickly.
At the same time the Acrobat dodged a blow from Tiger. The enemy commander’s sabre flashed like a streak of lightning the moment he saw the small man in front of him move, but Li dodged and rolled. He had no time to draw his own weapon under the pile of brooms. Tiger attacked, but Li’s foot shot out from a ground attack, catching his enemy as the man lost his balance. Li did a somersault toward the cart in an attempt to pull the guandao out, but Tiger attacked again. He knew the smaller man had hidden his weapon there, and he tried to keep his enemy away.
Li did not retreat this time though. Whoever held a weapon required a wider swing arc, so the Acrobat jumped in close to Tiger. He jammed the man’s sword hand and then he rammed his elbow hard into his enemy’s face, but the commander of the Western Depot men was highly skilled and experienced. He rammed his knee into the Acrobat so that the elbow could not connect. The Acrobat realised his gamble had failed but he was too close to extricate himself. He dropped both hands just in time to block a savage knee to his gut. The impact was great and his hands hurt, but with a mighty shove he pushed his larger opponent away so that he could escape.
He dropped to the ground and rolled, loping on all fours like a monkey as he circled his foe. Tiger stood between him and the cart. He grinned as he knew he had cut Li off from his primary weapon, and as long as he could keep the Acrobat away from it, he had a good chance of winning.
I’m not out of tricks yet, the Acrobat thought.
Ji Gang moved like lightning as Rat slashed. His left hand shot out, palm open as it struck Rat’s upper arm, preventing him from swinging the blade. At the same time the commander’s right fist shot upward from the hip, ramming hard into his enemy’s rib. The force of the blow was so great he actually lifted the man up.
Ji Gang sensed it before he saw the attack, and Snake’s blade almost took his head off as he ducked. He counter-attacked, his iron fan coming out of his sleeve and opening simultaneously. Snake blocked it with his own sabre and retreated so that his partner Rat could lunge. Ji Gang could not retreat or block it in time and the blade cut into his straw coat, turning at the same time so that the blade did not skewer him, but it did not stop his enemy from ripping the coat to shreds.
Too close! Another inch and it would be my flesh!
Ji Gang retreated to re-evaluate the battle, wishing that he had An or Meng with him. They could coordinate a better offence together.
Tiger shouted as he attacked, swinging his sabre with lightning speed and the unarmed Li Jing could only retreat. He skipped and danced like a monkey to confuse his foe, but his enemy was not
fooled and the eunuch pressed the attack, aiming the blade straight at Li.
The Acrobat was at a severe disadvantage. It was said that for an unarmed man to defeat a man with a weapon he had to be at least two levels more skilful, but the eunuch agent was an accomplished warrior at least as lethal as the Acrobat, and he was armed. The Acrobat had to depend on his wits to survive; he had to do the unconventional.
He dodged two blows, letting the man come closer before he struck. He went for the face, leaping onto the man’s back and wrapping his hands over his face. His fingers tried to pry Tiger’s eyes open. Li was partially successful as his nimble fingers found an opening, and as he pressed Tiger screamed in pain. Tiger felt as though someone had stuck a sliver of white hot metal into his brain. He screeched but his iron discipline set in and he regained his focus despite the agony of being blinded. He threw the blade into the air and caught it, so that he could reverse the weapon. The older man could not escape, and he plunged the blade backward, straight into the Acrobat’s gut.
The Acrobat clutched at his abdomen as blood gushed onto the white snow, howling in pain. Tiger covered his blinded eye with his hand, cursing profusely as Li realised there was something soft and wet in his palm. He threw his enemy’s eye angrily, trying to get up to fight despite the consuming agony and blood loss.
Tiger turned and faced him and he charged, sabre raised high at the gravely wounded, unarmed man trying to hold his guts in. Li’s hands moved instinctively from thousands of hours of practice. Images flashed across his mind as he performed the familiar action. He withdrew a throwing knife and threw it the way he taught his daughter, so that they could eke out a living as acrobats during those terrible years. His hand snapped like a whip, and the dagger flew towards Tiger’s throat with great accuracy.
With his vision affected and pain wracking his reflexes the eunuch had not expected his prey to retaliate with such deadly and sneaky force, and his single eye widened in shock as the blade punched into his throat. He could not even scream as he choked on his own blood. He dropped the sabre and clutched his ruined throat as he went down, eyes bulging in shock.
At the same time, the Acrobat’s knees gave.
84
“LI JING!” Zhao shouted, and even Ji Gang shot a quick glance in time to see their team mate fall.
Zhao’s adrenaline spiked. He launched an expertly timed attack just a split second before his foe commenced his. It was timed to break the momentum of the attack when he was neither in full attack nor in defence. Dragon’s sabre clanged against the commander’s and Zhao yelled, expelling energy. He assumed a low posture that was atypical of Chinese martial arts but was common in the south where he had taken refuge, his legs planted low and wide as he moved only his hips so that his body was extremely stable. Twisting his torso he brought his blade from hip up, catching the charging man’s hand from below the wrist. The cold steel went clean through and Dragon’s hand dropped to the ground, but Zhao did not stop there. He wanted to be at the side of his dying comrade, and this man was in his way.
The mutilated eunuch retreated, screaming, holding the bloody stump in agony, completely oblivious to Zhao as he lunged. His left hand struck hard at the eunuch’s throat with a palm hardened by thousands of hours striking tree trunks and rocks. The blow crushed the man’s Adam’s apple and he fell, gurgling loudly as he died.
Ji Gang renewed his attack with vigour. Despite Zhao’s victory there were still two Western Depot agents. In battle anything could happen, and he could not take any chances. He did not expect any help from Zhao, who was now pre-occupied with tending to the mortally wounded Acrobat.
With a great shout, the commander of the Eastern Depot attacked. He charged, raising his leg almost vertically before he brought it slamming down onto Snake’s face as the eunuch attacked. He had not expected Ji Gang to use his long limbs so effectively, and the heel smashed the eunuch’s nose, blood splattering across his face and onto his tunic. His vision was obscured by the blood that flooded over his eyes and before Rat could arrive to his aid, Ji Gang’s fists rammed simultaneously into the ribs of the eunuch he just kicked, cracking the bones in multiple places.
Rat appeared, slashing as Ji Gang ducked. He attacked savagely as he realised he could be the only man left against these masked attackers, and his sabre clashed against Ji Gang’s iron fan as they exchanged blows. Ji Gang was aware that Snake, despite the pain, was coming from behind to trap him and he allowed Rat to force him back, giving the impression that the man’s longer weapon was effective.
Just when Rat lunged Ji Gang pivoted out of the way so that Rat’s blade overshot and gutted Snake as he tried to attack Ji Gang with a downward slash from behind. In one smooth movement the commander moved behind Rat, who tried desperately to withdraw his weapon from his dying comrade, but he was too slow. His face froze in fear as Ji Gang danced agilely behind him, and his iron fan opened like a deadly flower with a loud whrrrrp as it ripped the eunuch warrior’s throat with one precise, smooth movement. Rat’s arterial spray painted Snake’s face in bright scarlet as he slumped forward entangling the comrade he had stabbed, both of them dying in a gory embrace.
The sounds of fighting ended, and over than their own laboured breathing they could hear the faint, ghostly chanting of priests. Ji Gang scanned the alley. No one had come at the noise. All security forces were tied down at their stations. They needed to hurry.
“Zhao, we need to move,” he said as he laid a hand on his former enemy’s shoulder. The man sat by his dying comrade. “Get Li into the tunnel first.”
Zhao nodded, and though devastated he had the presence of mind to remember the mission. Together, they carried their mortally wounded comrade in, and as Zhao tended to his friend Ji Gang dragged the four eunuch corpses in so that there would be no evidence of a fight. They would be locking the door to the pit from the inside, and once in the temple they would either succeed or die.
“Pull yourself together man, we’ll survive this! You tough son of a bitch. Even three arrows did not kill you the last time!” Zhao said through gritted teeth as he tried to staunch the bleeding. His hands glistened with sticky, blackish blood, and his voice was laced with sorrow. He pulled the mask off the Acrobat. His friend’s face was as white as a sheet of paper and his pupils were dilated as his mouth opened and closed, breathing hard.
“The last time I was saved by Zheng He’s Muslim surgeons. Now, it’s just you and me in this shit hole.” His chest heaved as he spoke. It required great effort. He shook his head to indicate that there was no hope.
“Hush, my friend. Don’t speak.” Zhao said as tears flowed from his eyes. Li was his only surviving comrade.
“Don’t waste your time, Commander. Go! Don’t forget the mission!” he rasped weakly. His hand was surprisingly strong as he gripped Zhao’s and Zhao felt as though his hand were pressed by an ice block.
“I’ll come back for you. Don’t die on me, brother!”
The Acrobat’s pale and icy face was peaceful. “At long last, I will see my wife again.”
“No…no…you’ll live. I promised Li Po I would bring you back,” Zhao said as guilt weighed on his shoulders like a mountain. Zhao had wanted to come for this mission alone, but the Acrobat did not let him. In return, the commander had promised Li’s only daughter he would bring her father home.
The Acrobat smiled wistfully at the mention of his daughter. “Tell Li Po I love her,” he said, and after a pause he whispered, “Now, go!”
Zhao wiped a tear away as he nodded. Both of them were veterans and they knew what a fatal wound looked like. Zhao eased his friend onto the hard, cold floor as gently as he could with shaking hands. He knew by the time he returned, if he could, the Acrobat, his friend and loyal comrade, the last of his team, would be dead. He would lose a brother and Li Po a father.
Ji Gang stood respectfully at a distance. Although time was urgent he respected the bond among warriors. Li had died valiantly, and he deserved to have his last moments
honoured by comrades. Slowly, Zhao stood with sabre in hand.
“For you, I will succeed. So that you don’t die in vain,” he promised his friend.
“Come,” Ji Gang ran into the darkness of the long tunnel.
Zhao took one last glance at his friend, and followed.
85
The boy emperor raised the incense over his head and bowed. He repeated the actions three times, offering his respects to Heaven as priests chanted and imperial musicians raised a symphony in the weak morning sun. The sounds of cymbals hid the loud cries of a bull as it was dragged to the sacrificial pit. There it would be slaughtered and burnt before its remains cast into the Pit of Blood and Hair.
Soon, the sorrowful sounds from the animal were close enough to be heard by all and the boy looked in horror, momentarily distracted from his spiritual duty. He had never seen an animal butchered and when he tried to turn his head his mother forcefully prevented it.
He was the emperor. He could not be squeamish, but he took Eunuch Wang’s hand and squeezed tightly. He was still a child after all.
Two burly eunuchs dragged the struggling beast to its fate and before long the animal was positioned for the sacrifice. It moaned balefully, its nostrils flaring and like the creature tears formed at the corner of the boy’s eyes. A priest recited something nobody understood, and then an attendant came forward with a ceremonial knife. He lifted the blade with great ceremony, then with one sure stroke he cut the throat of the animal. The stricken mammal cried once before it fell and servants immediately came forward to move the dying animal to the altar.
Amidst louder chanting the carcass was burnt, the aroma of burning meat rising to heaven. This ceremony, besides offering the animal to heaven, also represented the memory of the emperor’s ancestors who ate raw meat and clothed themselves with the skin of animals. It reminded the emperor how far they had come with Heaven’s blessings and as the smoke rose, servants filled twelve iron ovens around the temple with pine wood and burnt them. The sweet smell of burning pine intermingled with the aroma of roasting flesh to drive away evil spirits and earn the approval of heaven.
