by Jeremy Han
As the fires died, the imperial entourage proceeded into the Hall of Abstinence amidst great fanfare. The Zheng Tong Emperor, eight years old, had dreaded this day. They would pray and fast for the rest for the day, and then at midnight they would enter the Hall of Prayer for Harvest. Lanterns thirty-six meters high would be lit throughout this time, so that everyone in the city who looked at the temple would know their emperor was interceding for them.
The child tightened his grip on Wang’s hand as they approached the door to the hall as though he were entering a hall of torture. He gave a childish groan that was embarrassingly loud and his mother frowned at him. To spite her further, he purposely farted, and it sounded like a clap of thunder amidst the silent participants. He giggled while his mother’s face turned red and the eunuchs around them pretended not to notice. Kong followed dutifully with a solemn expression on his face.
The imperial family entered the chamber and the doors closed behind them. Western Depot eunuchs stood guard against human and spiritual threats as the entourage dispersed. At midnight, a group of eunuch priests would escort the emperor and his mother into the Hall of Great Harvest.
Ji Gang and Zhao heard the sounds of ceremony fade. From their position they watched the shadows shift as time passed, and by late afternoon the sun was almost setting. All they could hear was the wind. Time passed more slowly when mourning for a friend, and Zhao battled guilt throughout the day, trying to bring it under control. He felt as though a beast was going on a rampage inside him. When finally it grew dark the tunnel became terribly cold, but both men endured it silently.
“It’s time,” Ji Gang whispered, and Zhao nodded. They were entering the tiger’s lair. All it took was a eunuch to peer into the pit and they were done for. Enemy would swarm over them like ants.
They climbed up the pit slowly, cautiously, ears on full alert for any sound of people approaching and when they reached the edge they peered carefully around. The vast temple grounds were empty in the twilight. All they could see were the lanterns swaying gently, casting shifting shadows.
This was the most dangerous part. They slowly pushed themselves up and out of the pit before running across the courtyard toward the Hall of Great Harvest. Just when they had almost reached the steps to the hall the great door opened and a eunuch stepped out in front of them. The servant had gone in to prepare the incense for the prayers.
“Here!” Zhao hissed as he pulled Ji Gang against the wall. The Hall of Great Harvest was circular, and once they reached the curve of the wall safely the eunuch would not be able to see them. The man came down the steps looking straight ahead, completely missing the two warriors less than a few meters from him even though they were close enough to hear him hum.
At midnight the emperor emerged from the Hall of Abstinence, a fur coat draped over his shoulders to ward off the frigid night air. He looked serious, but in reality he could not wait to get out of the chamber. His mother followed him, similarly cloaked with a bear skin coat.
She felt nervous. Away from public eyes in the chamber she was supposed to be meditating, but her mind was in a flux. Her instincts told her something bad was going to happen and subconsciously she touched the hilt of the dagger. She took a deep breath, the cold, crisp air filled her lungs and she shuddered.
Would Heaven tolerate a blade in its presence?
The eunuchs carried lanterns that cast a yellowish circle to glow around them. Two were in front and two followed behind. The small procession had an air of sobriety and humility unlike the fanfare of the morning. The son of heaven was approaching the Hall of Great Harvest with humbleness: not as an emperor, but as a supplicant. Before Heaven, the emperor was nothing, hence they proceeded quietly.
The winter moon shone brightly in the clear sky, casting a soft silver glow as the light reflected off the snow, and the empress noticed that security had tightened. In anticipation of the emperor’s entry Western Depot men had taken up position an hour ago in the freezing cold around the circular mount where the Hall of Great Harvest sat like a mountain reaching to the sky. Despite the cold they stood stone still, looking like statues. Even their eyes did not move as the imperial family passed them. The only thing that indicated they were alive were the puffs of vapour from their breathing.
The royal family ascended the steps in silence towards the great looming three-tiered hall. Lanterns and braziers placed around it illuminated the ornate carvings and intricate designs and stepping carefully over the freshly fallen snow they arrived at the door to the great hall.
Two eunuchs were standing there patiently and they bowed in silence before they opened the door into the grand hall. The emperor and his mother stepped in, and the servants slowly closed the door behind them. Inside, it was as quiet as a tomb.
Zhao Qi and Ji Gang jerked involuntarily when they heard the door open. They were sure that the emperor and his mother had not seen them, but they still felt that they were violating the sanctity of the holy place. They could hear the soft brush of their coats against the cold, hard floor as they walked towards the altar. The altar sat on a mount made of marble, flanked by two red pillars painted with gold leaf that stretched majestically upward to the circular ceiling, reaching up to the beautifully painted beams. A short flight of stairs was carved into the marble mount, leading upwards to the wooden altar.
For all its grandeur the only thing that sat at the centre of the altar was a plaque. It was flanked by a series of lesser plaques that included the names of imperial ancestors and the names of deities of heaven. The centre piece simply said one phrase.
‘Heaven reigns supreme’
The emperor and his mother stopped at the row of bronze urns before the stairs to the altar. There they knelt and offered incense. There they entreated Heaven to forgive them for any offences they had committed, knowingly or unknowingly. Then they pleaded for their people, asking for a bountiful harvest and a peaceful year.
The two men felt like voyeurs.
The doors were so well-maintained that they did not creak when opened, but a gush of cold wind touched the empress dowager like a molester, causing her to turn in shock. A figure in a flowing white dress stood before her, and long black hair covered the intruder’s face so that the empress dowager could not tell if it was male or female.
Slowly the trespasser lifted its head. Dark eye rings that contrasted with the pale skin made the assassin look otherworldly and Yin took a step forward with no expression on his face. Yang stood behind him.
Yin and Yang, at the climax of their long drawn out complicated mission.
Yang’s job was to eliminate his partner but Yin did not yet know that, and he approached his prey confidently. He started to undo the knot on his leather bag as he took in the sight of the mother and son. For a moment he wondered why he had been sent to kill a child and a woman? Is the emperor not a man? Pain clamped his head and he tried to focus his eyes but they would not obey and the vision of the boy-emperor blurred.
The empress dowager screamed. Instinctively she grabbed her son and held him tightly before her senses took over. She pushed him behind her and struggled to get her knife out of her long coat. At the same time she yelled frantically for help.
“MEN, GUARDS!”
Yin shook his head with slow finality, the long black hair swaying, indicating no one would come.
How could this be? she screamed in her head. There was nowhere in the empire where security was tighter. Why did no one come? Why did no one hear? Damn it! she cursed as she came to the realisation that she, and she alone, must protect her child.
Someone had set them up to die but her husband, the late emperor, had warned her of this and she whipped out the knife with shaking hands, her long red finger nails cutting uncomfortably into her own flesh as she pointed the cold blade at the assassin. Anger replaced fear and she snarled. She would die defending the son of heaven, her very own flesh and blood.
Yang laughed maniacally at her amateurish efforts, and in the shadows
Ji Gang stole a quick glance at his former foe. Zhao nodded.
It is now!
86
“Majesty, do not fear!” a loud voice boomed across the prayer hall.
The tension broke like shattered glass as two figures emerged from the rear of the massive altar, one from the left and the other from the right. The empress dowager could not see them, but she recognised the voice. Hope floated up like a life buoy.
“Commander Ji Gang! Help us!”
She was hysterical and the emperor started to wail. Yin hesitated at the cry of the child and for some strange reason he felt uneasy. There was something familiar about the boy’s whimper. He had never felt like this before and the pause gave his enemy a chance to attack.
Ji Gang lunged forward, his long limbs covering the distance with little effort. At the same time his iron fan opened and slashed at Yin’s throat. Yin did not hesitate, and his body reacted like a snake’s. His lower body muscles went to work and moved in one fluid down-up motion as he avoided Ji Gang’s blade, rising up to counter-attack almost simultaneously.
He struck with his hands flat like the head of a snake, aiming at Ji Gang’s eyes. His hands flew left-right at great speed toward their target but Ji Gang turned his head a split second before the attack landed and avoided Yin’s attempt to blind him. Ji Gang counter-attacked by throwing two heavy fists in rapid motion and instead of blocking the massive blows, Yin retreated. He had to re-evaluate how to fight this titan and as Ji Gang took a long look at his opponent, he realised that he was finally facing the ‘woman’ with many hands, and though he was the enemy, Yin’s skill impressed him deeply.
Zhao went for Yang. He had a difficult task. He had to subdue him without killing the assassin, and though he was almost a head shorter than the castrated man the commander was not deterred. He had a specific reason for targeting Yang.
Yang took a step back to get enough space to raise his blade and as sabres clashed the sound echoed across the chamber. The hulking assassin pushed with all his might and Zhao relaxed his arm to dissolve the force. Yang aimed a round-house kick to Zhao’s head but the man widened his stance and dropped low before launching an attack of his own into Yang’s exposed right rib cage. Yang roared in pain as Zhao’s qi entered him through his fist, but he did not lose his presence of mind. He raised his elbow and rammed it hard into Zhao’s face, but the commander turned in time to prevent his nose from being broken and the blow caught him on the jaw. The assassin thought the commander would need a respite after the hit, but to his surprise, the older man leapt like a tiger at him, sabre pointing straight at his chest.
Yin circled the imperial agent like a serpent, his movements disturbingly smooth. Then he struck. He feinted left and then lunged, striking like a cobra spitting venom – fast and vicious. The blow was aimed at the commander’s groin and Ji Gang raised his knee just in time. The assassin missed his vital spot, which would have ended the fight, but hit instead Ji Gang’s leg. Ji Gang felt the jolt of pain and counter-attacked with a snapping kick. Yin darted like a snake snapping backward and the kick missed.
They circled each other, the commander of the Eastern Depot’s leg still ached where Yin had struck but he refused to show any weakness. Ji Gang calculated mentally that he could not let the fight drag. The longer the fight was, the more dangerous it was for the two royals. He had to remind himself that he was also surrounded by Kong’s men, and that they could come to assist the assassins anytime.
He attacked viciously. He knew the lean killer favoured quick, snap attacks before withdrawing before the enemy could react, so he decided not to yield the initiative anymore. His iron fan cut through the air faster than the eye could see and took Yin by surprise. He thought the commander would concentrate on defending the imperial family and the blade cut his arm as he tried to block.
He cried out in pain as blood welled from the wound, immediately staining his white dress crimson and Ji Gang followed up with a fist like a battering ram. It hit home, and the force of the blow lifted the slight figure like a paper doll. Yin fought back, bringing his palm down on Ji Gang’s bald head, striking at the commander’s face again. Ji Gang’s head whipped to the side and he roared in pain, but the minute he turned to face Yin the assassin had gone. Like a cornered serpent he had retreated and he took something out of the leather bag on his shoulder. Something coiled around his hand like a rope and then it gave a loud hssssssttt!
The fanchantou reared its head and opened its hood, black tongue sticking out in the direction of its foe and its cold, black eyes glared angrily at the commander.
Zhao attacked the larger man relentlessly. He needed to subdue the assassin but Yang blocked the sabre aimed at him with all his strength. The blades clashed, and he successfully pushed the commander’s blade away but he had left his flank exposed, and that was Zhao’s actual target.
He dropped the blade and lunged with both hands shaped like tiger claws. With the left he struck hard into Yang’s right armpit. He squeezed at the nerves and streaks of fire shot through Yang’s arm, down to the fingers that gripped the blade and Yang screamed in pain as his fingers lost control.
The sabre clanged loudly on the ground but Zhao did not release his grip. Holding his victim in place he drove a thunder fist into the man’s solar plexus. Yang screamed in pain as he tried to struggle and get away, but Zhao’s hold was tight. He changed strategy and swung a massive fist aimed at Zhao’s face, but the pain had slowed him and Zhao ducked under the arm and came from behind. Clamping his fingers hard on Yang’s beefy shoulders he pulled downward and backward while he kicked hard at Yang’s knee from the back.
Crack!
Yang screamed in agony as his weight pressed against the broken joint. Zhao threw Yang to the ground and then applied a strangle hold. The bigger man struggled against the hold but he felt himself getting weaker. His right arm was numb from the earlier attack on the nerves so he could only use his left, and with his leg broken he could not gain much leverage. He twisted and tried to swing his elbow at the man behind him but found he could not. It was growing harder and harder for him to stay awake and the room seemed to get darker and darker until it finally went black.
Zhao dropped the unconscious man like a sack of potatoes and went to join Ji Gang.
Yin was trapped. To his left Ji Gang stood and now Zhao hovered to the right. He had seen his partner go down, and he knew that alone he had no chance against them. He stole a glance at the mother and child cowering by the altar and something stirred in him. He gave another quick look and felt something prick in his memory.
A boy, about the age of eight or nine, crying defenceless against adults who want to harm him…. Where have I seen him before?
Something started to melt like ice inside of him. He had killed many people over the years, and each time he murdered he saw his step-father’s lustful, evil face, but looking at a vulnerable child and his mother shook something deep and primal in him.
He realised that he did not want to harm the child, the boy and his mother did not look like his stepfather at all. The fear etched in the child’s face resonated in him, jogging his memory loose like a stone off a cliff. An image formed in his head slowly, like a ghost from the past.
A naked boy crying in a corner of an old, dilapidated house, begging a man not to sodomise him, not to beat him, not to abandon him. The child raised a feeble hand in supplication against his oppressor, who stood like a malevolent god before him with full power over the child’s fate. He knew why he could not move against the boy. The more he looked at the child, the more he saw himself – a crying, feeble child, vulnerable and at the mercy of someone else.
Time stood still as Yin struggled with his feelings and he started to shiver as emotions unravelled him. Ji Gang and Zhao noticed it too, and wondered what was happening. They glanced at each other but stayed where they were. Something was happening….
Yin felt a volcano erupt in his inner being. A mixture of fear, self-pity, self-loathing,
and weariness overwhelmed him. Images of him killing flashed before his eyes. From the first man he had murdered, his stepfather, to the last. They all flashed before his eyes, and it shocked him, as though he did not realise he had committed all those foul deeds.
What am I? A monster…a freak….what have I turned into?
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at the boy again. He glanced at the empress dowager clutching the child, protecting him with her life and he laughed sorrowfully.
I had no mother or father to protect me… only an evil step-father who abused me. I soiled my soul to purge his evil, but until now I have failed. Evil still lives within me… I will never be rid of it as long as I live.
Overwhelming grief filled Yin. He had not felt his own emotions since the day he had hardened his heart as his stepfather pounded him from the rear. He yearned to be free.
He looked around, seeing the enemies that ringed him. He had come to kill the son of heaven, and he knew that there would be no reprieve for him. There was no salvation for a filthy being like him and he knew what he must do. He would not allow himself to fall into the hands of the enemy. It was not death he feared, but he could not face the feeling of being subjected to another’s mercy again when there was none to be given.
Ji Gang broke his reverie with a shout. “Surrender to the Dong Chang! You have nowhere to go!”
Surrender? Only to be tortured until I die or until I break?
Yin had no illusions. He was an assassin, and killers only had one end.
He knew the cobra intimately, and he stroked the animal’s head as he whispered softly to the snake. It was the only one he really trusted all these years, and now he must entrust to his reptilian friend the greatest task of all.
