"Is fighting for something you believe in so bad?" Bo asked him.
"Don't get me wrong. I did too. But fighting for what you believe is not the same as fighting for what someone you love believes. I think Liu lost track of that halfway through. But, let's focus on the fight," Quan-Qan said, his eyes returning to the arena where the fight was taking place.
Van got up. His face was locked, his jaw straight, the bones of his cheeks sticking out and his eyes bulged. He clenched his hands like he was squeezing something, his muscles multiplying, his abdominals increasingly creased. He slammed his foot on the ground and the surrounding sand bounced off.
"I seem to have underestimated you. It won't happen again," he said, laughing. He spat a white, yellow goo to the side. "Finally, a good challenge," he added, an ironic smirk in the corner of his thin lips.
Van, having a hard-fighting style, brutalizing his opponents with raw, constant attacks, could not contain himself. He ran towards Liu-Ken, jumping midway, stretching his leg, and kicking Liu-Ken's already raised arms. The strength of Van's foot was so great that Liu was forced to take a few steps back and shake his wrists to make sure they were not broken.
The champion did not even give him time to breathe. He threw himself at Liu, a predator hunting for prey, punching him incessantly, seeking an opening. He knew it would take just one sharp punch to knock Liu to the ground. Then, all he needed to do was to keep him down and make him a straw doll, boxing bag, until he didn't get up anymore.
Liu-Ken also knew it. Using a traditional method of thinking and predicting his opponent's movements second before they happened, he moved lightly, also looking for a breach in his opponent's violent attack. Van's hands moved so fast that Liu only had time to deflect, but never to counterattack. He couldn't even use his arms or hands to stop the head-on attacks. He had focused on deviating and, when he was distressed, he used the back of his hand to divert the course of the punches. A slight nudge on the wrists was enough for the attacks to miss the target.
Still, even though he could withstand the whining of blows, kicks in between, his body began to falter. His legs slowed down, and his hands lost their precision. One of the punches scraped his face and Liu then realized that Van had cornered him near the metal bars.
"It looks like it's the end," Van said. He raised his arms, bragging in advance, bathing in the tireless screams of the excited crowd.
And even at that decisive moment, Liu did not lower his guard. Instead, he dragged his right leg back, turning part of his body to the side and positioning both hands close to his chest. If he wanted to get out of there alive, conscious at least, he could not miss the next move. He blamed himself for not having trained enough over the years. He became lenient, wasted the little piece of paradise where he had lived, spent the afternoons learning to play the flute and reading manuscripts and so many other books on war and philosophy, instead of having focused on training to be able to now protect the offspring of the man he once loved.
"Let's see if you have the strength for it," Liu-Ken said, taunting him. He needed Van to be too focused on anger to realize what was happening. After all, it was in the details that the water school stood out. Just as a thread of water escapes through the gap between two rocks, so the Mizu cultivators learned to shake off the most dangerous moments through delicate and eloquent gimmicks.
Van tightened his fist again. His anger flowed through his veins. Sweat brightened his forehead and chest. The public never grew tired of supporting him. Sweat and alcohol filled the environment. The fight had gone on long enough for some people to think about changing their bet. Van had never seemed so tired; his gasping breathing being heard by the men next to the metal bars. Even he would have to admit that he had never reached that point of exhaustion. The quick punches he had fired consumed much of his strength and Liu-Ken was still standing. He had to finish the fight now before his energy ran out.
"It's now that everything is decided," Quan-Qan said, pulling another cigar out of his pocket. "It's a good thing I had this one stored here. I think I'm going to need to calm down after this.”
"Liu-Ken's gonna win, right?" Aurora asked, looking up at him with puppy eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, boy," Quan-Qan answered him and puffed his cigar. The smoke raised a cloud above him, separated shortly after by his blow, "Liu is too calm. He knows he will win. He is waiting for Van to go ahead and slack off. Damn it. I knew I should not have put an ex-cultivator in the ring. Even though he has not trained much in years, my fighters are not competition for a Level 2 yet," he said.
"How do you know he hasn't trained in years?" Bo asked him, swapping his eyes between Quan and Liu.
"Because if he had continued to practice, this fight would already be over," Quan replied, before giving another puff in his cigar.
Aurora and Bo looked at each other, smiling and hugging even before the battle was over. Quan-Qan continued to smoke and Aurora could swear that, for a brief second, an honest smile appeared in the corner of the man's lips, air filling his right cheek.
Van hurried to get close to Liu-Ken. The stirrings of his hand at its peak, the salient bones ready to leave a mark on Liu-Ken's face. He halted his left foot, pinned it to the ground, and leaned forward, a gust of wind clinging to his arm, his fist firing off at a dizzying speed.
Liu-Ken did not move his foot. He could not hesitate or even be distracted for a brief second. The wind imposed by the pressure of Van's strength glued some hair to his forehead, throwing others back. Liu-Ken waited for the right second, the precision rewarding him, by placing his hands together into a concave shape, as he so often sunk them in the creek to wet his face and diverted Van's arm atop his head. He lowered his hands again, always glued to each other, and hit the center of Van's chest, jerking him back and freeing up enough space to jump as high as possible, kicking him with his right foot and striking him in the cheek. Van's body collapsed on the floor, unconscious, his nose shedding blood.
Most of the audience silenced themselves. The screams were now led by half a dozen fortunate people who had risked betting on Liu-Ken despite the odds. It was not necessary to count to 10 to know that Van, the champion, had been defeated. Liu-Ken sat on the floor, his face between his legs and arms on top of them, trying to calm his breathing and trembling knees.
The toga man rang the gong once more. The crowd looked at Quan-Qan, who was still getting up. He threw what was left of the cigar to the ground and stepped on it until the flame was nothing more than ash particles mixed with the sand.
"Well, it seems to me we had a big surprise today! Unexpected, unexpected," Quan-Qan said. "The fights will continue. You already know, the bet winners stand in an orderly line near my door. The band will be playing while the other fighters are getting ready. The party continues," he added, raising his hands eccentrically, almost theatrically.
One of the rich men behind him knocked his tray, the food now on the ground. He complained that the fight had been manipulated, that a man with that slender body could never face a monster like Van. Buzz and rumors grew among the public. Quan-Qan addressed the man in question. The man swallowed dry and apologized. Quan laughed and grabbed the man's collar, lifting him until they were face to face.
"For someone who comes here almost daily, you should already know that match-fixing is strictly forbidden," he said.
"I want this fight to be repeated!" the man shouted, his eyebrows coming together until it looked like he only had one. Saliva spattered Quan-Qan's face.
"Do you want the fight to be repeated?" Quan-Qan asked. He laughed loudly, everyone staring at him. Many were not surprised, they even seemed to know what the outcome of the situation would be like, "Men like you must realize that your presence here is a favor I do you and not the other way around," he added. He snapped his fingers, expelling a red-white flame which quickly spread through the man's suit and devoured it all. Quan-Qan dropped the man. He cried, snot at the door of his nostrils, his arms trembling. He gathered courage a
nd put his fingers on the scorched suit. Almost like shattered glass, the suit crumbled into thousands of pieces. He was now naked before dozens of people who laughed at him. He hid his genitals with his arms as best he could, his swollen belly getting in the way.
"Sorry, sorry," the man began, the rib bones highlighted in his skin as white as the dew that dripped after rough rainy nights.
"I think you've learned your lesson," Quan-Qan said. "I'll say it again and I hope I won't be interrupted this time. The day goes on. Drink, eat, the next battles will not take long," he said, taking the man's half-full glass and lifting it for a toast.
The crowd responded, also raising theirs, all drinking at the same time. In one corner, three hard bearded men started the ruffles in hollow drums, accompanied by a flutist. The music remained low but persistent throughout the room, having an anesthetic effect on the audience who were now discussing the previous combat, wondering if the rumors that the cultivator had been present in the 18-year-old revolution were genuine.
"Now what?" the new boy asked Aurora. "What do we do?"
"I have no idea. It's usually Liu-Ken who tells me what to do," Aurora said and smiled, "but don't worry. I told you he would win. He must know what to do," he said.
"I didn't ask this before... but where are we going?" the boy asked, looking at Aurora, as he pulled the clothes away from the body, peeling them off.
"To the water school. I think it's in the mountains. You've never left this place, have you?"
"No..." the boy said, embarrassed by the answer.
"I'm glad you're with us then. We are going to live many adventures and get even stronger. We'll be unstoppable!" Aurora told him, her fists closed, already envisioning a world in which their names would be recognized and respected across the four corners of the continent. A future where the Kaji school would be nothing more than a name whistled through the rubble.
The other boy did not answer her. He smiled shyly, showing only part of his teeth, his eyes squeezed, and his cheeks rounded.
Quan-Qan exchanged a few words with the two men who had thrown Liu-Ken into the arena. Then, a girl with long blonde hair, a beautiful and honest smile, sneaked into the opposite corner to the entrance to the VIP area, stopping at the front row.
"Do you kids want any of these cakes?" she asked them, still smiling.
"Yes!" Bo answered without even giving Aurora time to open her mouth, "Oh, sorry. I've never eaten anything like it," he added, again embarrassed, half-open-mouthed, faint spittle flowing down his chin.
"They look really good..." Aurora said, also fascinated by the chocolate-covered strawberries that surrounded the chocolate and orange cakes.
"You can pick as many as you like," the girl said. "Don't worry about Mr. Quan. I know he looks mean after everything you have seen but were it not for him and many of us would still be on the streets, or worse. He worries and shows it in his own way. He would never touch two children.”
"I'm not a child," the new boy said. "I'm seventeen years old, almost eighteen!" he said to her, all spirited up, on the edge of his seat.
"I'm sorry," she said and laughed softly, "so, aren't you going to take advantage?"
They looked at each other for a few seconds before each of them picked up two cakes. Soft texture, fingers sinking into creamy cakes, liquid running down the sides. They took a bite on each of the cakes. If the new boy groaned pleasantly, Aurora slipped through the chair, squealing still with the remains of the orange cake in her throat. She laughed and two dimples emerged on her cheeks. She threw all her hair back and chewed one of the strawberries.
"I see you're having fun Lin-Sin," Quan-Qan said, alone, the two security guards walking into the arena. Unlike Van, Liu-Ken had already gotten up. His body was full of bruises and blood drops were trickling from his scarred wrists.
"Oops, I'm sorry, sir. I was just trying to satisfy our customers," she replied.
"Impertinent as ever," he replied, stretching the left corner of his lips, revealing a hitherto unnoticeable sign, "get them a bag and put some of the cakes in there. The strawberries are amazing, aren’t they? I imported them from a distant city. My guards are now picking up Liu. Let no one say that Quan-Qan's word is not sword bound in stone. I will get you what you asked for. Wait a minute," he said, moving away, talking to himself.
"He often talks to himself. Don't be surprised," Lin-Sin told them. She also picked one of the strawberries, chewing it slowly. "I know I shouldn't talk with my mouth full, but I have to go before he gets really upset. I'll leave the tray here. Feel free to remove as many as you like," she added, smiling one last time before leaving.
Aurora and Bo put all their good manners aside, throwing themselves at the strawberries as if there were no tomorrow. The sweet strawberry flavor blended with the chocolate bitterness and melted on the tongue. They were still tasting when Liu-Ken appeared, carried by the two security guards, a meager smile in his mouth, keeping his hands hidden in his pockets.
"It's been a long time since I've seen these," he said, the voice brittle.
"Want one?" the boy asked him, reaching out his hand, holding one of the strawberries by the chocolate-free end.
"Thank you. Yes, what did I teach you, Aurora?" Liu-Ken asked, his eyes half-open, his face still soaked in sweat.
"That a cultivator should sleep well and eat even better," Aurora said, repeating word for word something Liu-Ken had once said to her, but now with a slightly playful tone.
"It was always difficult to eat well here and sleep too. When it rains, it drips inside my house and it becomes impossible to sleep. There were days when I worked the whole day, including half the night. I could only sleep for a few hours," the boy said, "but now I'm going to try my best."
"I assume that's why much of your chi is still sealed. Don't worry. A good night's sleep and a decent diet and we can start teaching you how to use it," Liu-Ken said. He coughed up his sputum and red patches covered his chest. "I'm very weak. Maybe it's I who needs a good night's sleep," he said, laughing to disguise the pain that plagued his whole body. His meridians were blocked, his arteries sore, and his chest ailing.
"You shouldn't laugh." Quan-Qan appeared behind him. "Take this. It will heal you," the man said, offering him a small bottle containing a yellow-brown liquid.
"I didn't know you cared about me," Liu-Ken told him, without taking the bottle.
"Don't be silly. All my fighters receive the proper medical care to be a hundred percent for the next battle. You may not be one of them, but you fought, and just between you and me, you made good money," Quan-Qan whispered.
"Did you bet on me?" Liu-Ken asked him.
"Do you really think so? I bet on both. I'll admit that I put in more money on you. I had a good feeling, you know?" Quan-Qan said, the sarcastic smile reappearing.
"You gave them a good show and you still made money. I'm not surprised. You've always been good at making the most of situations," he said.
"Thank you. Now drink the damn bottle and let's get out of here. The city is being flooded by Kaji soldiers. It will not be long before they get here. All I can do is delay them for a few minutes, but no more than that. The last thing I need is to have them on my back."
"I understand and we thank you for your help," Liu-Ken said, grabbing the bottle and drinking it up. The bitter liquid went down his throat and, in a few seconds, all the wounds glowed, a starry color wiping away their stain. The scars dried and the stains disappeared until there was only one almost unnoticeable imprint left, an eternal memory of what had happened there. The meridians were restored to normality, the liquid converted into pure chi, covering the open and empty spaces, thickening his muscles, until Liu-Ken breathed normally, without hindrance, his nose finally unobstructed, "We can go."
"Sin, hurry. We don't have much time to stay here," Quan-Qan said, warning Lin-Sin, who was slowly approaching, with the cakes inside a brown bag that she carried with two fingers on one side and one on the other, making sure it
wouldn't fall. "Give them the bag and say goodbye to them. I don't think you'll see them again. Probably not even I will. It's our farewell."
"It's not our first, Qan. What's to guarantee that this is really the last one?"
"We were lucky to have escaped the first one. Over the past 18 years, the Kaji school has grown stronger. There are spies and murderers everywhere, maybe even in other schools, maybe even here. Their leader became more and more suspicious, afraid that he would also die in a revolution like his father. If it comes to that, he will not hesitate to kill thousands of people to capture her," Quan-Qan said. "I wish you good luck but don't come back here."
"Fair enough. Sorry for the inconvenience," Liu-Ken said and hesitated before continuing, "Sorry about what happened in the past. I should have been there, I should have fought with you," Liu-Ken said.
"It's too late for that. You now have a chance to fix the mistake, don't you? Don't miss this time."
"I won't," Liu-Ken said and looked at Aurora. "I owe you an apology too. I should have told you the truth right away," Liu-Ken said.
"You should, but now there's not much to do. Let's continue. It's no time to lower your arms. We've come too far for that," Aurora replied, keeping her face still.
Sin-Lin handed the bag to Bo and kissed him on the cheek before saying goodbye. He blushed and thanked her for the cakes, and so did Aurora. They, then, followed Quan-Qan through a tunnel created by and among the crowd, who strayed away when they saw who was trying to traverse the whole place from one end to the other.
A worn wooden door protected by two other security guards stood between them and the exit. Quan-Qan nodded and the two greasy men moved aside, also lifting the spears they had by their bodies and hauling them close to the ground.
On the other side, they had a four-wheeled cart pulled by two black horses, the dark and magisterial hair fluttering. The rear part covered with a brown cloth provided them with the security they needed to get past the possible different Kaji school posts parked along the way. They were now in the city's penultimate street, hidden between that building and a stone one facing them. The sun did not reach them and the eternal shade, followed by a docile breeze, made the snails on their necks fuzzy.
Awakening: (The Necromancer's Legacy Book 1) Page 19
