The Emperor's Prey

by Jeremy Han

  Then she threw the dagger at him. Holding the blade with a pinch grip; the thumb, fore and middle finger gripping the tip of the blade, her body moved with one movement as she shifted her weight from the back leg to the front as she released the projectile; the Acrobat taught her well. She calculated the distance and strength ratio mentally and subconsciously from the years of practice and the blade flew at the target. Ji was amazed at the precision: It was aimed squarely at his throat. His experienced eyes tracked the movement of the weapon and raised his hand to deflect it. At that moment, he gasped. He retreated.

  He thought he was losing it when, for that split second, the single throwing knife in front of him suddenly multiplied! One blade had become three! Was he hallucinating? What sorcery did the girl do or what hidden power did she have that Ji did not know of and had completely under-estimated? His instincts took over; the iron fan whirled open as he deflected the blades with a sweep. At the same time, he dived and rolled over so that those other mysterious blades he missed did not hit him. He got up and wanted to attack in fury. He would not allow a mere girl to make fun of him with whatever trickery she had up her sleeves. Then he paused when he saw someone staring down at him from the roof of a house.

  The Acrobat heard the exchange between Ji and Jian Wen just before he rounded the corner into the street where the standoff took place. He bounded up the wall and climbed onto the tiled roof of the house next to them so that he could spring a surprised attack. That was when he saw his daughter take out her blade and threw it at Ji. With a lightning flick of his wrist, he added his own blades to hers. The element of surprise was enough to throw the commander off. But now, the enemy was glaring up at him. And the legendary judge Bao Zhen stared back at the commander of the Eastern Depot.

  Ji Gang took a while before he realised it was the Acrobat in another of his fancy masks. There was no sorcery here, just another one of those father-daughter tricks honed over the years of conning gullible people who wasted their time watching these street performers. Without a word, the masked man somersaulted off the roof, his guan dao flashed once in the moonlight and then it came slashing at Ji’s neck. The Acrobat, true to his name, entered the fight in a spectacular way. At the same time, he shouted to his daughter,

  “Run!”

  She took Jian Wen’s hand and ran.

  Ji Gang ducked easily as the heavy weapon went over his head. He could hear it slice the air and feel its draft. Then he attacked. He lunged forward. His long limbs covered the distance faster than Li Jing estimated and he jumped back, raising his weapon so that the shaft blocked the blow. Then he counter-attacked by swinging the back end of the shaft at Ji’s face, but the commander blocked with a raised hand that was as solid as an oak branch. Ji attacked low with a foot sweep and the Acrobat leapt to avoid the blow. It was a trap. Ji’s body followed the momentum of his sweep to come back up again to launch a roundhouse kick. It smashed into Li and threw him to the floor. With a mighty roar, Ji Gang stamped but the Acrobat had rolled away. With a back flip, he was on his feet again – just in time to intercept Ji Gang’s next salvo.

  Ji Gang was a practitioner of the Long Fist. This style was developed by the first emperor of the Song Dynasty and was considered a northern style. It emphasised long reaching movements of the arms and legs, anchored by deep stunts and characterised by acrobatic kicks. Since it could be used for both offence and defence, the practitioner’s personality would favour a particular slant. Ji was aggressive so he attacked viciously and without hesitation. He executed a powerful ‘whirlwind kick’, followed by downward smashing hammer-fists even as the Acrobat dodged the blows with monkey-like, erratic movements that confused the attacker. He danced away out of range and attacked.

  The Monkey Fist against the Long Fist.

  Coming straight at Ji, Li Jing thrust the blade forward at his target. Ji retreated out of the reach of the long weapon then realised that the ‘monkey’ in front of him had suddenly dropped to the ground. He rolled to the side unexpectedly and slashed at Ji’s legs. Ji jumped to avoid the blow and at the same time, aimed an elbow at the Acrobat who was getting up. The Acrobat spun on his back and kicked at the same time; one foot jammed the incoming elbow and the other smashed into Ji’s face. It connected with a solid crunch. Then he flipped himself up again and charged at his stumbling foe. With his daughter’s life at stake, Li Jing gave no quarter. He raised his guan dao and charged.

  Ji Gang rolled away just in time to avoid the blade. The blade clashed against the ground in a series of loud clangs. The blow was so furious that it generated sparks. Li Jing followed up with a series of attacks that kept Ji rolling on the ground as the commander tried to avoid being hacked into two. He rolled backward so that his legs went over his head then he was on his feet again. He ducked to the side just as Li thrust his weapon forward and used his iron fan to block the lunging weapon by hitting the shaft. Then he counter-attacked by thrusting the fan straight into Li’s face as Li’s body was carried forward by the momentum of his attack; Ji opened the deadly fan at the moment it came into contact with Li’s face; the fan blades destroyed his wooden mask. If not for the mask, Li’s face would have been shredded by the sharp metal-bladed fan. As Li reeled backward, Ji’s leg straightened into a side kick, catching the Acrobat straight in the chest. The Acrobat flew backward and landed with a loud thump, his head hitting the cold, hard ground. He tried to get up, but he could not. Through blurry eyes, he could see Ji Gang walk toward him. He forced himself up unsteadily. Yes, come to me, he thought.

  So that Li Po could get away.

  SEVENTY SEVEN

  Zheng He knew exactly what was going on. His flag ship was moored away from the dock due to its size, but he could hear the commotion on the docks. The governor’s men were in a frenzy no doubt stoked by the Dong Chang agents. They doubled and then tripled the security to prevent people from gaining access to the main loading areas. His own men who guarded the ships were equally excited as they ensured that no one, not even the governor’s men could enter the harbour or board their ships. It was operational procedures; no unauthorised personnel on board before the ships sailed. The admiral had seen the flares and knew that the Eastern Depot had found their prey and were calling more of their kind into the fray like piranhas to a wounded fish. He really could not control events from here. All he could do was trust the skill of whoever was protecting the emperor. He would only know a few days later the outcome of tonight’s chase when they were at sea. Activity on other ships also indicated that they were aware of something happening on shore. He said a silent prayer for the unseen party making its way to his fleet.

  Zhao heard a series of loud clangs; it was the sound of a heavy weapon striking the stone and knew that Li Jing was on the offensive, which was good – the Acrobat was still alive. He homed in the sound of the fighting, running as fast as his injuries allowed him. The memory of The Farmer drove him; he would not allow another of his men to die tonight. His tired legs took him down the long street in what seemed an eternity. He could hear men shouting and urgent footsteps coming his way. It must be reinforcements. He pushed on. Hopefully, he could defeat Ji and escape.

  Ji Gang’s iron fan slashed at the Acrobat who barely dodged the blow; the blade cut a long gash along the wall, destroying the plastering and raising a cloud of dust. It made a screeching sound that hurt their ears but did no real harm. Li Jing fell to one side in a mock fall before rebounding. He swung the guan dao at Ji Gang and the commander ducked. Li followed with a kick which forced Ji backward. The commander pivoted away and the Acrobat followed with a vicious slash. His head was starting to clear and could see properly now. He noticed a man running in an odd way toward them from the other end of the street. The man was carrying a sabre and he appeared hurt.

  Zhao Qi! His commander was here. It filled him with hope.

  Ji Gang’s counter-attack brought him back to the present. After ducking from Li’s slash, Ji executed a cart-wheel kick aimed at Li Jing’s head, b
ut the Acrobat was able to raise his weapon and blocked the kick with the shaft just in time. Ji exhaled with a shout,

  “HAI!”

  Energy from the core of his being flowed through his twisting torso and out through his leg. With a loud, audible snap, Li’s weapon broke into two. Without hesitation, the Acrobat threw his broken weapon and engaged Ji with his hands. He had no problem with that because the Monkey Fist was a deadly art. He knew that every second counted and brought Zhao nearer. He launched his attack. His hands shot out in a left-right attack that seemed unsteady at first but exploded in deadly punches aimed at Ji’s body. Ji Gang did not expect the sudden and vicious attack; he thought Li would retreat to recover from the loss of his weapon. Li’s fists sank into the commander and he heard the man grunt in pain. But Ji did not falter or lose his sense of the situation, his hand swept upward with the iron fan and it opened at the point of contact; just when Li was withdrawing his punches. The blade cut deep into the Acrobat’s arm and he screamed in pain. Both men withdrew. Li risked a glance and saw Zhao coming closer.

  Ji Gang saw it too. He turned and looked at Zhao Qi and saw that the man was badly injured. He charged at Zhao, his iron fan opened. Zhao lunged and Ji Gang slashed. Their weapons met with a loud crash. Zhao’s hand was weakened and the vibrations from the blow almost threw the blade out of his grip but he held on. His fighting instincts were still sharp and he spun around; Ji Gang would not stop there. The commander of the Eastern Depot executed a spinning kick which forced Zhao to retreat. Then the fan came again and Zhao parried with the sabre, sending sparks into the air. At that moment, Li attacked. He rolled over and kicked Ji Gang’s leg, causing him to lose his balance. Zhao took this chance and attacked. He slashed downward with the sabre and it struck Ji’s iron fan. He dropped the fan because of the great force and while he tried to regain his balance, Zhao’s other hand struck out in a leopard fist. He struck Ji Gang’s chest hard; the commander stepped backward. Driven by guilt, Zhao’s attack was relentless. His sabre flew forward as he lunged, hoping to gut the commander of the Eastern Depot and end this before reinforcements arrived. He almost succeeded as the blade came so close that it cut through his enemy’s shirt and pinned it against the wall. Ji used his longer legs to good effect against a foe that was coming too close. His foot slammed into Zhao’s face. As Zhao fell backward, Ji reached forward and grabbed his hand and followed up with an elbow strike, snapping Zhao’s head back with the forceful blow.

  Li shouted, “Zhao Qi!”

  Immediately Li Jing was onto Ji’s back. He pounced onto Ji, his legs wrapped around Ji’s waist so that his hands were free. He struck Ji’s head with a move that mimicked a monkey preening another’s head, except that this was done with deadly intent. Ji Gang screamed in pain as Li’s fingers dug into his bare scalp. Zhao tried to attack but at that moment, Ji grabbed Li by the armpits and bent his waist forward, plucking the smaller man and hurling him off. Li smashed into Zhao and the two tumbled onto the ground. Ji gripped his head in pain and fell to the ground.

  Ahhhhhhhgghh!

  At that moment, shouts came down the alley. A full platoon of soldiers was running toward them. Li helped Zhao up with great difficulty and saw that the commander was severely wounded.

  “Go. Join your daughter. I will hold them.” Zhao gasped. In his mind, he thought, I don’t want to lose another good man after Fu. He pushed the Acrobat, “Go. Li Po needs you.”

  The Acrobat knew that Zhao was not making sense. In his shape, he could not hold back the platoon for more than ten seconds. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the throwing darts and flung them as the guards came closer. The two leading soldiers were punched backward, but it did not deter the rest of the Ming soldiers from rushing toward them.

  Ji shouted, “Get them!”

  The Acrobat knew it was over. The odds were simply too great when he saw archers coming, just behind the infantrymen. He reached into his pocket for his last trick. His fingers found the metal sphere and he threw it hard at the ground just in front of the lead charging man.

  It exploded with a deafening bang. But it was not the explosion that mattered, but the poison gas that spewed from it. It engulfed the soldiers and Ji, stopping them dead in their tracks. Men gasped their throats and vomited while others covered their eyes as it stung. The gas constricted their windpipes and they could hardly breathe. Even the mighty Ji Gang dropped to his knees and choked. He vomited violently as the chemicals irritated his respiratory tract. He gagged again as he tried to breath. He got up by sheer force of will but after a few steps he threw up again. His eyes stung; he could hardly open them. Then with all his will, he gave the order,

  “Archers, FIRE!”

  Li grabbed Zhao and heaved him onto his back. He tried to flee while his foes were stricken by his poison gas. Amidst the coughing, he heard the command given to the archers. And then he heard the sound of bow strings being stretched and arrows being released. The whistling sound of death came toward him. He braced himself. Even he, the great Acrobat, knew he could not outrun an arrow. An image of his daughter filled his mind.

  Good bye Li Po! Father loves you always!

  The first arrow punched into him.

  SEVENTY EIGHT

  Li Jing was running on a beach with Li Po and his long dead wife; they were laughing the way a family did when they were free and loving. A breeze came over his face and he could feel it lift his hair. He smiled. This was what he had always hoped for – freedom from persecution for his family. He looked at his wife with guilt, but she smiled assuringly at him. She did not blame him for her misery. He ran to Li Po and held her hand. She raised hers to touch his forehead. It was cool. Words. He could not make out what Li Po was saying. It felt strange; he was sure he could hear her voice. He could even hear the seagulls at the beach. He smelled salt in the air; he was sure he was at the seaside or near it. That was where they were running and having fun isn’t it? Where was he? Then he opened his eyes and the blur image of his daughter’s face appeared before him. The hand holding his, the hand that touched his forehead, they were all real. Li Po smiled and tears rolled down her cheek. He had survived the volley of arrows. She saw him fall with Zhao under the rain of arrows. Jian Wen ran back with some sailors and hauled the two unconscious, wounded men back. The former emperor insisted on saving his men, despite the pleas of the sailors who wanted him to hide, lest the Eastern Depot raid their boats. They rescued the men and sailed. Zheng He ordered his doctors to ensure they both survive…if not…. His throat was dry and could not speak, but to look at Li Po once again was therapeutic enough. He smiled as a tear from Li Po fell onto his face. Then he closed his eyes and slept again. He was free. His daughter was out of the Eastern Depot’s shadow. He had gambled and succeeded. He felt so tired; the weariness seemed to go deep into his bones. He fell into a deep sleep, finally relaxing as he told himself the freedom was real. His daughter and he were finally safe. But where is Zhao? Where is Fu? Li thought of his commander and his best friend, and then he drifted off again into unconsciousness.

  Zhao Qi blinked as he stepped onto the deck of Zheng He’s flagship. He put a hand to the door post to support himself; he felt weak and dizzy. He looked pale. He had lost much blood from the spear wound. The sun was so strong out in the ocean he had to shield his eyes. The heat was stifling; it felt like the middle of summer although he knew it was still spring, which meant that he must be heading south, far away from his last known location. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear wind chimes singing, and the fluttering of the wind getting caught in the sail. Perspiration formed on his forehead from the short time he was standing there. It was humid too. He looked around him with a little unease as he realised that land was nowhere to be seen. He could hear various commands given and the corresponding answers. The orders were given in the clip, precise way of the navy. He could hear ropes straining and wood being tested by the demands of the sea. Fear gave way to excitement as he realised that he was sailing on a boa
t. A sea journey was a mythical epic to most people since the Sea Prohibition was enforced by the preceding Hongwu Emperor and no one, except the navy, ever left the shores of the empire. He felt like a child again. Going to an exotic place where no one wanted to kill him filled him with pleasure. But the sound that brought great joy in his heart was the random call of the seagulls. He could not explain it, but the lively squalls reminded him of freedom. He felt light.

  Freedom. Finally. After more than eighteen years.

  He was finally free. Li Jing came beside him, with Li Po supporting him, and said, “Commander, it is time.” Zhao nodded. Then he led Zhao to Zheng He’s private chambers. He looked at Li Jing and said with amazement,

  “You’re alive. I thought the arrows…”

  “Yes the arrows got me. But I live. I thought you died too.” He opened his shirt to reveal wounds.

  “It was his majesty. He came back for us with some men. They carried us to the boat and got away. The rest of the credit goes to the admiral’s excellent Muslim physicians, who brought knowledge from their homeland to ours.”

  Zhao Qi had slept for several days and had lost track of time and the situation. He vaguely remembered what happened after he was wounded by Ji Gang. The naval physicians tended to him. They did not care who he was, or why he was there. Out in the sea, the grand admiral was ‘emperor’ so they obeyed his orders without question. He commanded them to treat his wounds, and failure was not an option. Fortunately, Zheng He had several good Muslim doctors who had studied medicine from the Arabs. Battle wounds were not new to them. By the time they returned to home base, it would be a couple of years, and all would be forgotten amidst the many adventures that would be coming their way. Zheng He’s fleet fought battles. When they did, there would be many wounded men to tend to. These mysterious men would be forgotten; one of the many wounded that sailed on the grand admiral’s fleet.