Girl with Flying Weapons

by Aya Ling

  "Was there a weapon?" Ping suddenly asked.

  "Er…" Little Tiger scratched his head.

  "Then the death must be of some other cause," Ping said. "It seems impossible that my brother could kill a prized fighter without a weapon. Maybe it was a heart attack? What did the autopsy say?"

  "Poison!" screamed the old woman. "My son may be the best fighter in town, but what can he do against lowly tricks?"

  "Excuse me," Lynn said sharply. "There is no proof that my brother used poison. Besides, what could he gain from your son's death? Fang never knew him."

  "Because he believes Yao killed his friend's wife," Manager Liang said smoothly. "He was avenging his friend."

  Shue Song sat up straight. Lynn's jaw fell. Hong clenched her fists and let go. How did they know about Opal's death?

  "Are you… referring to Chow's wife?" Shue said slowly.

  "My son had never seen that wench since she left him. She was a money-grubber anyway, I didn't think she was a decent sort. You!" Mrs. Yao screeched, stabbing a finger at Fang's direction. "You! Bring back my son's life!"

  "Restrain her," Shue said in a low voice. "In case she falls down in a fit."

  Two of his men crossed the hall and tried to make Mrs. Yao sit down. She eventually did, but sent Fang a look of pure venom.

  Hong bit her lip. She hadn't known that Fang had attempted to confront Yao. But then, who was responsible for Yao's murder? Had the murderer also killed Opal, or were they different people?

  Fang walked over to Mrs. Yao, though keeping a reasonable distance away.

  "Mrs. Yao, I did not kill your son," Fang said steadily. "He was dead when I found him. I swear it."

  Mrs. Yao glared. "Liar! Then why did they find you alone with his body? You thought to get rid of him for your friend, huh? You didn't think you could defeat him so you used poison. I may be old and frail, but I am not afraid of you. I will not rest until my son receives the peace he deserves. Your Honour, I beseech you to take pity on my old age. My son is dead, and I want justice done!"

  Magistrate Ho yawned before slowly getting to his feet. "Pardon me, Governor Shue, but I'm afraid that so far all evidence points towards your son. I'll have to bring him in to the tribunal." At his command, two constables strode up and grabbed Fang's arms.

  Lynn gasped. "Are you taking him to jail?"

  "According to the law, the person accused must be taken in and kept behind bars until the next court hearing." Magistrate Ho said. "Unless you are willing to pay a fine of a thousand taels to guarantee he will show up at court? Otherwise, how am I to answer to the victim's family?" He nodded towards Mrs. Yao, who was still seething with rage.

  "I'll pay," Lynn offered. "I can pawn some of the jewellery I've got, and I can…"

  "Don't," Ping hissed, pulling on her sleeve. "It's not worth bribing this… this person. We'll do our best to gather evidence to exonerate Fang. Wait until the court hearing."

  Shue stared at the magistrate unflinchingly. Normally, a magistrate would not dare to arrest a governor's family, not even when the accused was found guilty, but Magistrate Ho rarely concerned himself with other authorities, since he enjoyed favour with the emperor.

  "So… I gather there is no fine to be collected?" Magistrate Ho drawled.

  Shue did not answer. Instead, he turned to Fang. "Son, stay strong. I believe that you are no murderer. We shall endeavour everything to prove your innocence."

  Fang nodded, trying to smile bravely. He had heard of stories of the horrible conditions in jail, but he was certain he could withstand it.

  "Take him away," Magistrate Ho ordered.

  "I can walk on my own, thank you," Fang said, shaking off the hands of the constables.

  Hong wished fervently she could pierce Ho's ears with her trusty poisoned needles. When Fang passed by, she gave him a firm, steadfast look to show that she believed in him. She would do everything she could to find out the real murderer.

  FIFTEEN

  The next day, Hong made her way to Mrs. Yao's house, carrying a basket of fruit and flowers. She had made sure to dress up in a plain grey robe, making herself look poor but respectable.

  She had to find out who did it. Despite warnings from her sifu, Hong knew that she cared for her young master, had done ever since he took her hand and gave her sweets when they were children.

  Using the info supplied by one of Old Man Liu's beggar spies, she found the house without much difficulty. Hong knocked on the door. "Mrs. Yao?" she called.

  No answer. Hong gave the door a push, and found that it opened easily.

  "Mrs. Yao? Hello?"

  Hong stepped inside. The interior was cleaner than she expected. A couple of bamboo chairs, a small round wooden table, and a broom stood in a corner. A few leaves lay strewn across the floor, however.

  Feeling rather apprehensive, Hong approached another door, which she presumed was the bedroom. She had heard slight movements coming from within.

  "Mrs. Yao? This is Hong Sien. I am a maidservant at the governor's, and I have come to say—"

  The door swung open. Old Mrs. Yao appeared, her face haggard and her nose red from crying. Without her anger, the wrinkles on her face became more pronounced. She looked older, more tired, more frail. It was hard to imagine that this depressed-looking old woman was the same one whose shrieks could pierce the roof last night.

  "Go away."

  "I'm sorry, and I commiserate with your loss, but I have to ask you a few questions." Hong held out her basket. "I gather you have no one to give you a hand around. Here, if you can just let me poke around, I can fix you some tea."

  "I said go away!" Mrs. Yao glared, though she eyed the basket hungrily. "I don't need your pity. Besides, you're just here to beg me to absolve the murder of your master, right? Well, let me give you some advice. He may be good-looking and well off, but you'll never hold on to him. Men of his station sweet-talk you into their beds and turn their backs as soon as they're tired of you. And what are you—a servant? You'll never be anything more than a toy."

  "This has nothing to do with what I came for," Hong said steadily. Briefly, she wondered if Yao's father was "good-looking and well off." Otherwise, why the sudden hatred? "I came to ask you why you are so certain of Master Fang's guilt. According to what I have heard, there are many more who could have done the deed. Master Fang's motive, while understandable, doesn't hold as much weight compared to others."

  Mrs. Yao looked away. "He was the one found with my son's body. Anyone at the fighter's ring can tell you that."

  "But would not it make more sense if he hadn't stayed?" Hong said. "If you were to poison someone, why would you want to stay and be caught? Master Fang is young and inexperienced, but I doubt he would do something that stupid."

  Mrs. Yao sniffed. "How would I know? He killed my son. I demand retribution."

  "Mrs. Yao." Hong looked at her intently. "I am very, very sorry for your loss. My parents passed away when I was nine. Were it not for the benevolence of Master Shue, I would have probably ended up in a brothel or begging in the streets. Yet it seems to me that you are more interested in incriminating Master Fang than finding the true murderer. Do not pretend that your son's enemies are limited to Master Fang only."

  Mrs. Yao swallowed. Hong held her gaze. Suddenly, the old woman broke down, weeping.

  "I know. I knew it from the start. I had begged my son countless times to stop working as a fighter, it's too risky. I pleaded with him to stop drinking so much, it's damaging his health. But he just laughs and tells me that the alcohol only strengthens his fighting ability. He never thinks of the long term, it breaks my heart…"

  Hong patted her shoulder, feeling rather sorry for the old woman. It made more sense now. She doubted that Mrs. Yao was really bent on accusing Fang, unless she had a perfectly good reason for doing so.

  "Did anyone put you up to this?" Hong asked quietly.

  Mrs. Yao looked away. She twisted her hands and muttered something under her breath.


  "Yes?" Hong pressed on.

  "It's the magistrate's son. I heard from his servants that Fang had a fight with him, and he's been wanting to get revenge since."

  "Ho Jiang-Min?"

  Mrs. Yao nodded sullenly. "He told me that he'll give me a tidy sum if I insisted on accusing Fang."

  "And you just accepted?" Hong said, disgusted.

  "What else was I to do? I'm seventy years old, I only had one son, all the relatives I know are sick or dead. And I did think Fang was most likely. He had the motive and he was present."

  Hong put a hand to her forehead. "How much did he give you?"

  "A hundred taels of silver. Once Fang is behind the bars, he'll pay me."

  Hong pulled out a small pouch from her inner robes. She used to carry some money around for emergencies; sometimes when on her missions, a bribe would be more preferable to shedding blood.

  "Here." She held out a silken brooch studded with pearls. "This is worth more than a hundred and fifty taels. Take this now. All I want you to do is to stop accusing Fang and help us find the real murderer."

  Mrs. Yao's eyes widened. "How could you—how did you—"

  "Take it," Hong said, laying the brooch on her palm. "I owe the governor's family a great deal. I do not want to see Master Fang labelled a murderer. I believe he did not commit this heinous crime."

  Mrs. Yao's hand closed over the brooch. "But so far the evidence is strongest against him."

  Hong pursed her lips. "That is why I came to ask you. I thought you might shed some light on the issue."

  Mrs. Yao thought for a while. "Maybe it was one of the fighters at the ring. There was this man called Whirlwind Ko, he was nicknamed Second Man because he could never beat my son."

  Whirlwind Ko? Hong remembered that night at Duel of Death, Ko was to replace Yao in his match with the Southern champion. Could Ko have secretly poisoned Yao, in hopes of claiming the number one spot?

  "Thank you very much, Mrs. Yao." Hong rose to leave. "If you know anything, just send a message to the governor's compound. And… again, I'm sorry for your loss."

  "You're doing a lot for that young man, aren't you? Did he send you?"

  "No, I came of my own accord."

  "Well, I'd advise you not to give your all to him. Don't think that he'll be thanking you and offering you a position. Men. They can take things for granted. Go and find an honest, hard-working man. Much more reliable. A young man like him will only break your heart."

  "I assure you I have no aspirations," Hong said gravely. "I know my position, and I have no wish to remain in the governor's family permanently. But still, I'm doing this willingly because I owe the governor a huge debt. Without him, I'd be nothing."

  Mrs. Yao pressed a corner of her robe, where she had slipped in the brooch. "I dare say, if they bestowed you with such gifts."

  "I'd have done the same even if they didn't give me anything," Hong retorted. A bowl of chicken soup from Fang touched her more deeply than all the brooches and bracelets in the world.

  Whirlwind Ko. Now she must try to find out if he was the murderer.

  Back at the governor's compound, Hong was immediately summoned to the kitchens. A few servants had come down with the flu and could not be trusted to be near the dishes, and the cook was in a foul mood.

  "Don't forget your place, girl," the cook grumbled. "The master may be lenient, but you're doing far less work than other servants. Come and watch over the fire. Don't let the flames die out, or I'll be sending you to clean the privies!"

  As a matter of fact, Hong's job did not include kitchen tasks, but since the kitchen was indeed lacking in assistance, she silently went to work. It was also true that she didn't work as much as the other servants, due to her frequent visits to Old Man Liu's place. And she did receive partial treatment from Governor Shue. No wonder that some servants disliked her.

  The smoke was unpleasant and she coughed several times, but she did manage to keep the fire burning consistently. Then she was ordered to sweep up food scraps, clean the tables, and carry fresh water from the stone well in the courtyard. Due to her training with Old Man Liu, the menial tasks were not physically draining, but she had to pretend to look weary, such as wiping her forehead from time to time and sitting instead of standing. All the while she worked, she thought about Fang and wondered how to clear his name.

  "That should be enough," interjected an elderly servant. "Let the girl off, we're almost done."

  The cook sniffed. "All right. But before you go, take this pot of tea to the masters, they've been drinking it by the bucketful."

  Hong bowed, keeping her eyes on the ground. "It shall be done."

  When she reached the main building, voices floated from within. Hong caught the word "Fang" repeatedly; she paused outside for a moment. Her hearing was acute enough that she could stand at a reasonable distance without seeming like she was eavesdropping.

  "So about this Yao…"

  "I asked one of the fighters at the ring," Ping was saying. "Bribed them with the best wine of Rose Daughter. They say that it could've been anyone. Yao was universally disliked. One of them said he was going to do him in one day, once he had the chance, and even laments that Fang got to him first."

  "The butcher who lives near the Yaos says the same thing," said Gwang, the eldest son. "Yao repeatedly has bought meat but never actually paid up, but since he was the best fighter around, the butcher didn't dare to raise dissent. He says that even without a weapon, Yao had the ability to beat one wielding a knife."

  Shue Song furrowed his brow. "If this Yao has been such a criminal, why hasn't he been brought to justice before? Who shielded him?"

  "The managers at the fighter's ring, naturally," Ping said. "Yao was bringing them too much business; they didn't want to lose their prized fighter. Most of his victims were poor and insignificant, so they were easily bought off with a couple silvers."

  Shue Song crossed his arms. "This ought not happen. I should have a word with the magistrate some time."

  His sons didn't say anything, but only looked at each other. Magistrate Ho, though not the kind of ruthless sort who brought commoners grief, was inept and indecisive. If a matter could be solved by the least effort, such as bribes or coercion, he would not take the trouble to do the right thing.

  "Well, at least Yao is not a victim to be pitied," Gwang said finally. "What might be the worst for Fang?"

  "That crazy old lady demanded his head, but I doubt even the magistrate will concede," Ping said. "Plus, if necessary, we can bribe him too."

  "I don't want my son labelled a murderer, especially when the fact remains that he is innocent." Shue Song stood up. "Continue your enquiries. Too bad that I have to leave for the capital tomorrow. An imperial messenger informed me that the emperor has summoned me and the Hwa-Lu District Governor to court."

  "Has the emperor given a reason why he wants you and the other governor there?" Gwang asked. "The Tibetans have been driven back to their regions in the west. Is there the possibility that they will attack again?"

  "I do not think so," Shue Song said. "As a matter of fact… I believe this is more a case of domestic conflict. There has been news of the Wei-Bo District governor acquiring more bodyguards than necessary for his compound. He might be trying to assemble his own army."

  "Governor Tien?" Ping said. "Why, he already has a reputation for being an outstanding fighter himself. Wasn't there a rumour that he could bend an iron poker with his bare hands?"

  "If it's true, then I question the sanity of the person who tries to attack him," Gwang said, grinning.

  "That is why the emperor is worried. Who knows if Tien plans to become another An Lushan and raise a rebellion? I suspect His Excellency is trying to make me and the Hwa-Lu governor band together and show our support for the imperial court."

  "Not a bad idea, but from what I've heard, the Hwa-Lu governor is useless," Ping said. "I doubt his support will count much against Tien."

  "Better use
this opportunity to impress upon him the seriousness of Tien as a threat, then," Gwang said. "Father, don't worry about us at home. We'll get Fang out of prison before you're back."

  Hong lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She had planned to do her own enquiries the next day, but she couldn't sleep. What Mrs. Yao had told her kept playing through her head. The magistrate's son had bribed the old woman and told her to accuse Fang… for what reason?

  She sat up. Magistrate Ho had informed them that they would be holding court in three days. She had to search for more information on her own. Old Man Liu's network of beggar spies were useful, but when dealing with people at Duel of Death, she had to act. Time was running out.

  Flinging the blanket off the bed, Hong rose and went to her mirror. From the position of the moon in the sky, she judged it to be near midnight. Using what little moonlight was available, she quickly dressed in her black robes for travelling at night. She packed a supply of drugged needles in a pouch, stuck several iron hairpins in her bound hair, and inserted a dagger in her boot.

  She listened carefully, ascertained that no human was near, and slipped out of her room.

  It was pitch-dark outside and horribly quiet. In her first mission, Hong had wasted a good deal of time overcoming her fear. Old Man Liu had drilled her mercilessly in her ability to hear, ordering her to bear in mind: replace her sight with hearing. When she concentrated on sound, the darkness would not seem so ominous.

  Like a sleek Persian cat, Hong headed towards Duel of Death.

  SIXTEEN

  Although it was midnight, the buildings at Duel of Death still had lamps burning. Like the brothels and gambling rings, many of the activities continued on well into the night. Sounds of drunken men singing and jesting floated from the area where the duels took place. Hong did not even bother with the front entrance; she darted swiftly to the back and looked for a suitable spot to jump over the wall.

  She pressed her ear on the wall and listened for where less human activity was going on. Taking out her hooked sash, Hong threw it into the air. A tug on the sash, and the next second, she leaped on the wall and rested for a brief second, scanning the buildings below. She slipped noiselessly down the wall and retrieved her sash, tucking it securely inside her robes.