The Emperor's Prey

by Jeremy Han

  Ji Gang assumed his fighting position. Twin fist forward, one atop the other; strips of linen wrapped around his fist to give him a tighter clenched fist. Zhao crouched like a tiger, legs bent low, hands forward and fingers bent like claws. Ji attacked with a full frontal attack to test his opponent’s strength. The rain of blows was met with an equally fast and furious palm counter-strikes. Thinking that Zhao was distracted by his non-stop punches, Ji’s leg executed a turning kick. Zhao blocked and counter attacked like a tiger ripping at its prey’s face. Ji drew back his head quicker than his eye could blink and barely avoided the crushing fingers. Simultaneously, his massive fist came up and struck Zhao fully in the chest. Zhao staggered backward and Ji pressed the attack with a head punch that could smash the face. Zhao side-stepped and kicked Ji in the ribs, hard enough to throw the man off balance and then Zhao leapt onto Ji’s back. Both his hands gripped tightly onto Ji’s shoulder blades and he pulled, trying to dislocate the joint. Ji screamed in pain as he felt his bones being crushed. The pain turned into anger and anger into strength. Ji slammed his elbow into Zhao’s solar plexus and Zhao had to disengage as the air in his lungs burst.

  Zhao fell. Ji tried to attack but realised that his hands were numb and shaking. ‘Damn the Tiger!’ He knew that Zhao had struck at his nerves and that affected his ability to use his hands effectively for some time. Zhao tried to stand but his ribs burned when he took a breath. Something inside was cracked. Slowly, they circled. The first engagement had taken less than 10 seconds and both were already hurt.

  This time Zhao attacked first. He did not risk a long range attack but he launched a series of lightning-fast claw strikes. Ji knew that to fight him headlong was futile, so he retreated quickly as though he was succumbing to the ferocity of a tiger’s strike. He drew Zhao in and then with a twist of his body, he executed a back, spinning kick. It was a feint; he executed a foot sweep which tripped Zhao as he tried to avoid the back kick. Ji leapt into the air, raising his massive fist to execute a hammer blow. Zhao rolled away and with a great yell, Ji’s fist slammed into the leather platform, the sound thundering across to the royals, causing them to gasp in awe of the man’s strength. The leather and wood absorbed the blow. If a pile of bricks were there, it would have shattered. Then Ji felt a clamp squeezing his head tightly, so tight that bolts of lightning seemed to streak across and burn his brain. Bright light burst before his eyes and he could not see. By instinct and experience, he grabbed Zhao’s hands and in the close quarter, locked it to break the vice-like hold on his skull before he grabbed Zhao and body-slammed him. Zhao landed with a loud thud, testament to the Ji’s great strength. But Ji could not press the attack as his head ached as though a volcano had erupted inside it. He tried to stamp on Zhao but he had moved away. Just as Zhao got to his feet, Ji attacked again. He punched Zhao hard in the ribs again followed by a blow to his face. Zhao spun away with the force, spitting blood. Ji pressed in thinking that now he had an opportunity. He kicked. But an explosion of pain blinded him as Zhao disregarded the agony from Ji’s fist and attacked first. Zhao gripped the still-moving leg with his hand and ripped at it like a tiger; the fingers crushing the sensitive acu-points on Ji’s leg. Zhao pressed the attack with a ‘claw’ to Ji chest, but Ji brought a palm down to deflect the blow before landing two solid punches to the Tiger’s face that knocked Zhao onto his back. Ji thought he had won as he was still standing but the pain in his leg immobilized him. The leg started to shake uncontrollably as the numbing pain streaked like poisonous snakes through his nervous system. Like an earthquake starting at its epicentre and moving outward, the burning sensation began at the points where his nemesis’ fingers had squeezed and struck throughout his legs down to the extremities. He was temporarily paralysed. He tried to stand, but failed. At the same time, Zhao stood and wanted to press the attack, but he blinked and saw two blurry images of Ji Gang. For awhile, he could not decide which was the real one? He blinked again and his world started to spin; he fell. His brain felt like mush after being pounded by his opponent. Damn the bald northerner Zhao thought. Curse the Tiger, Ji swore. Ji Gang wondered if his nerves were permanently damaged by the Tiger’s fearsome, crushing fingers. The gong sounded and there was no clear winner.

  Zhu Di came over and congratulated his nephew on having such a fine bodyguard. The senior added that with such a man guarding the young prince, the young prince will have no fear of danger. Zhu Yunwen replied and said that his uncle’s success among the princes was guaranteed with such an able warrior under his command. How right both of them were! Eighteen years later, the prophetic words remained true. Ji hunted, and Zhao protected.

  Ji drifted slowly to sleep as his distant memories of the past dissolved with fatigue and in his semi-conscious mode, thought he heard the distant cry of the tiger somewhere in the mountains outside the camp. The roar was full-throated and strong; it came from an alpha male. Ji smiled to himself. He would be hunting tiger again.

  TWENTY EIGHT

  Fang Xiaoju spoke. There was a tremor to his voice. “I came back to the capital. I could not stay away knowing my wife and children are in mortal danger. But there was nothing I could do.”

  The cackling of the twigs in the fire filled the silence as the old man gathered his thoughts, letting the painful memories fill his eyes as he saw the cruel inevitable from a distance. The others waited anxiously for him to continue, all curious to know what exactly happened during the infamous execution of the ‘Ten Gates’. The Ten Gates referred to the ten ‘generations’ of people related to Fang, with the ‘tenth’ being his students.

  “I disguised myself as a beggar and crept towards the execution ground. There were so many people surrounding the sandy square patch. The white sand was splotched with blood. Families were already executed. In front of the execution square were the judge’s table and the emperor presided over it himself. At the side of the table was a cage, and my brother was locked inside, forced to watch everyone he knew being dragged and decapitated before his eyes; they were executed for his sake.” He swallowed hard, trying to continue. The rest listened intently.

  “I forced my way to the front, but not too close, otherwise I would be recognised. Then I saw my wife and children led in. They wore the white clothes of the condemned. My wife holding on to my youngest infant son; the baby cried. The older children were scared and held hands. None of them knew why they had to die. My daughter started to cry softly and my son, so brave, unlike his father, he held his sister’s hand, and comforted her. He put up such a brave front. Then the executioner came. The emperor shouted at my brother, “Do you wish to see your sister-in-law and family die for your stubbornness? Stop your foolishness old man! Declare me emperor and they can go.” Fang swallowed hard before he continued the gruesome tale,

  “Before my brother could reply, my wife shouted at the emperor. She said, ‘Go to hell, Baojun ‘tyrant’! You will not have a good ending and your sons will end up worse than those you kill without justice.’ And then she turned to my caged brother and cried out, ‘Don’t give in. Do not proclaim this monster emperor. He is just a common bandit who steals what does not belong to him!’

  Zhao’s eyes widened at the display of bravery. Fang continued, “Zhu Di thundered, “I am the emperor! It is my nephew who is unworthy of the throne. He is weak and if left to him, the country will go to the dogs. Do you think a weakling like him can stop the Mongols from ravaging our country again? Damn you all, blind fools! Only I am worthy of the throne; to continue the greatness of my father the Emperor Hung Wu.” He picked the ling and hurled it at the executor’s feet. It was time. There was no turning back. The burly man surged forward. He wore a black turban and black pants. He had no shirt on so that any blood splattered onto his body could be easily cleaned. He stepped forward and executed the children first. Their heads rolled like balls and their blood; my blood, burst onto the sand; the dust quickly absorbing the liquid that once gave life. Then my wife and infant were dispatched. The executioner’
s sabre was slick with blood and the smell of copper filled the air. It’s as though my own blood was seeping through into the sand. I lost all sense of my surroundings. I could not hear anything except the sickening crunch of the blade against the flesh of my flesh and the bone of my bones. Those were my children and my wife; all gone before my eyes, slaughtered by a power-crazed tyrant.”

  His voice dropped as the weight of the past pressed upon him like lead. His eyes watered and he lifted a hand to wipe away the tears. “You know, at the sight of my family facing the monster, I wanted to run forward to hold them, to die with them. I could have begged or done anything. I would even denounce my brother to save them. But my wife’s courage held me back. My children, my wife, my everything all gone. I cannot defeat Yong Le, but I can resist him. So I left the capital and let word out to those who resist the emperor know that I am alive. And eventually, we helped Jian Wen to escape and thwarted his uncle’s attempts to find him. It took all our resources and networks to hide the emperor.”

  Yula spoke. “The emperor is crueller than us Mongols whom he labelled as beasts. He murders children and women. He should be resisted. The Great Khan would never do something like that. He would never slaughter his own people.”

  “You are Mongol?” Xiaoju asked.

  “Yes.”

  Xiaoju squinted and looked at her. In the weak light, it was hard to see but slowly he could pick out the features that confirmed what she said; she had a Mongol’s high forehead and cheekbones, eyes smaller than the Han and a broader shoulder. He nodded his head. “Mongol and Han, there is no difference. What is important is we fight for a righteous cause.”

  “How does that help you in your revenge?” Zhao asked.

  “Revenge? Do you think this is about revenge?” Xiaoju looked at Zhao Qi, Long Wu and Yula. The pain and sorrow were gone from his eyes, his voice was clear and stable again. His eyes burned with conviction. “We will do anything we can to thwart the emperor’s plans. We will be the thorn in his flesh and make sure he will not get his way. If he wants Jian Wen dead, then we will keep him alive.” He spoke to them calmly, even dignified, like the high-ranking official he once was.

  “Do you know why?” Xiaoju asked, and then continued, “It is bigger than vengeance. Think a little larger than petty human emotions Commander. Look at yourself, look at your men, and look at me. Have we done anything wrong? Have we committed any crime? Why are we in the state we are in now? Is it because we are getting our just desserts?” He gestured expansively with his hands, ending with a bony finger pointing at the three of them.

  “We are in this state because we did what was right. You followed your orders to protect a lawfully appointed monarch. I performed my duties to the court and refused to acknowledge a tyrant. And we are punished for it. Is the law of heaven still valid in this land or has the word of a criminal, a usurper become supreme? When righteous and law-abiding men fulfil their duty and are punished, do you not agree with me that it is wrong? The first emperor was like that, but most officials accepted it because it was the founding of an empire. All empires are founded on blood. We are not ignorant of that but we looked forward to the day when our country would be governed by law, by the teachings of the wise men, by the rules that govern the relationships between the ruler and the ruled as set out by Confucius --when leaders act like fathers and mothers to their people; not like a man-eating tiger. For isn’t a tyrant more frightening than a man-eating tiger?” He quoted Confucius, the philosopher’s whose teachings established the basis of law and protocol in the empire.

  He continued, emotions flooding his voice like rushing water, “Jian Wen represented all that we Shi wanted; a humane monarch who respected the law and loved his people. He epitomised the teaching of the sages and wanted to curb the excesses of his grandfather and uncles. He wished for the country to live in harmony with heaven and man by keeping the mandate of heaven. All these would lead to the long term good of the people and that was what we needed: a humane emperor. Not one who was greedy and proud, but one who cared for everyone. The empire does not need any more suffering after the wars and rule of cruelty under Hung Wu.”

  The teachings of Confucius were the dominant thought that governed the thinking of a country, particularly the scholar class of officials who were well-versed in his teachings on how to govern. Confucius believed that rulers should lead by virtue. Laws, while necessary, would not foster lasting behaviour but example from leaders or seniors would set the tone. The king, being the paramount position in the land should rule with benevolence and virtue, thus setting the example for the rest of the subjects to follow. This would lead to harmony and peace as everyone treated the other the way they wanted to be treated. However, this was often not the case but it was an ideal that Confucius taught the people to strive for.

  “So you resist Yong Le because he stole what was good for the country.” Zhao said.

  “Yes. To resist a thief is righteous.” Xiaoju spoke firmly.

  Yula nodded her head. This became more than just a race for survival but to right a terrible wrong. Her people had suffered under Yong Le’s campaign but no matter what, the Mongols were enemies. But to hear an emperor slaughter his subjects because of pride was too much. Xiaoju caught the gesture and addressed her,

  “And what about you Madame, why are you here with this merry little band of criminals?”

  He smiled at her and the low light of the flame reflected off his teeth, or what was left of the uneven row, looking like broken and unattended tomb stones. But there was only kindness in his tone and eyes. Before she spoke, her body language shouted what was in her heart. She grabbed Long’s arm and leaned closer to him.

  “I will follow him to find a home; a place where we could go to sleep without a sword under the pillow.”

  “Ah...a home and love. How did you arrive at this state where you follow a Han?”

  “After the fall of the Khans, the tribes reverted to their old ways – inter-tribal warfare. Raiding and killing each other, selling their life stock and women; that was the state we degenerated to. Yong Le attacked relentlessly from the south and without a strong leader to unite us, we were destroyed both internally and externally. Women like me either submit like cattle or fight. I chose to fight and run away.”

  “You’ve killed before?” Fang asked, fascinated with her tale,

  “Of course.” She admitted as plainly as stating whether she could perform a mundane chore like sewing or cooking. “In the plains, either a woman has men folk to guard her or she wields a sword. If not, you’ll be raped and sold. I don’t want that. I am not a goat or a sheep.”

  Xiaoju nodded but did not ask anymore. But Yula continued, “What you said impressed me. I did not know the Han race was capable of such greatness. All we have seen were violence and discrimination. I thought that the Han cities were filled with intelligent beasts; they could perform great feats of brilliance but had no soul or thought toward their fellow man.”

  Xiaoju chuckled. “So you see Zhao and Long, an outsider indicts us. Her race, who we consider barbarian, sees us as little more than cultured tigers. What a failure we are. How we as a society and civilization have failed.” The old man could not stop. He then pointed at Long Wu and spoke to the group,

  “Look, a man who did nothing wrong could not marry and live in peace in his own homeland. He cannot exercise one of heaven’s greatest gift: to have a family, because eighteen years ago he did the right thing.”

  Then he pointed at Zhao, “And you Commander, what have you given up for the last eighteen years? I am sure you have your own story to tell. And Yula, the Mongol lady calls us uncivilised not because we are unintelligent but because we behave worst than them. We have a great legacy left for us to build a nation for the world to emulate but selfish and proud emperors keep getting in the way. Zhao Qi, Zhao Qi, don’t you think we have a responsibility far larger than petty revenge?”

  Zhao had no answer to that and brought them all back to the present
by asking a pertinent question. “So where is Jian Wen now? Where have your network hidden him?”

  “We had hidden him somewhere the Eastern Depot would never find him.”

  Zhao waited but Xiaoju smiled at him, “Patience Commander. The emperor had been hidden for eighteen years. It would not matter to wait a few more days. Once the rest of your men are here, I will tell you where he is so that you can continue the mission.”

  Zhao continued, “So you believe that Jian Wen would reclaim the throne and oust his uncle?”

  “No. That would not be possible. Revolutions only succeed when the people support it. Right now, the people have peace and food in the belly. For a tyrant, you have to admit that the Yong Le emperor had given the people stability.”

  “So what do you wish for Jian Wen to do?”

  “As long as we ensure that he did not die, and Yong Le does not get what he wants; that is good enough. Jian Wen is a symbol of what the empire could have become. He cannot die, just like the idea for a fair and just society should not fade.” Pausing to sigh audibly, “Moreover, he is a good man. He does not deserve this fate.”