by Vivian Chak
Chapter 7: The Teacher
“I was born the only son of a famous Han general. He was falsely accused of treason, and I use his name no longer,” began Wong. They had moved to the edges of Bianjing, where beggars with their bowls sat near the city gates. In the space of several hours, Wong had acquired an expensive-looking beizi, small palanquin, coats of plates, and bronze helmets besides. To anyone who looked, they were two bodyguards escorting a rather embarrassed Flame to some clandestine meeting.
“Following the tradition of my family, I studied, among other things, the arts of war and enlisted when I was grown. I had high hopes of distinguishing myself and redeeming my father's name.”
This resonated oddly with Flame, though she couldn't place why, as she sat cramped in the palanquin, a strange woman's coat on her back. Her sword hung from Jiang's hip, despite the misgivings of both sisters. But Wong insisted the picture of two guards be complete. He himself wore two butterfly swords. Flame wondered how he had gotten all these things. Wong's voice grated against the palanquin.
“I hope you're both listening. You wanted to know what this is all about, right?”
“Certainly.” That was her elder sister. Flame wondered what the use of all this was.
“Right. So everything was fine. Until two years ago when I was captured by the enemy following a border skirmish gone badly. Men always need someone to take the blame, just as they needed my father. That's why I'm here.” The palanquin seemed to go over bumpy ground.
“What, here after being captured?” Flame was curious in spite of herself.
“That's what I said,” Wong growled. “I'm Jurchen, see, or half at any rate. The fool who did it was perceptive enough to see the Jurchen in me, but blind enough to ignore whose side I was on. A Jurchen disguised as a Han, is what he said of me.”
What was the point of all this? Flame grew impatient. She didn't really care who belonged to which ethnic group. In fact, if the Jurchen successfully took Bianjing, Li might fall with it, and then she'd be able to get out of the city. But then she wouldn't know for sure if Li was dead. And her parents' ghosts would nag her for it, as they had been doing for seven years. No, she'd have to do it herself.
“They broke all my fingers, trying to wring a confession,” Wong chuckled ruefully. “But I got away. Found myself at White Horse Monastery, Luoyang.” Flame was from Luoyang, or at least somewhere close by. Maybe this was useful.
“Met An there. She saved my fingers. We married soon after.”
“Sorry?” That was Jiang, sounding agitated—an uncommon occurrence. Flame felt the palanquin stop abruptly. “Do you mean Sister An?”
“Same one. It was marriage for my fingers.” He snorted. “That, and the fact that I was a rather conspicuous half-Jurchen, or so she said. Kind of an oblique way of threatening to give away my identity.”
“But...An laoshi took vows-”
“-not then. She soon had me running all over the Empire, doing her dirty work. That is, digging up dirt on her younger brother, whose birth disinherited her of the family land. Her brother, your Magistrate Li.” Flame was jolted in her seat.
“Li,” she brought out softly. He seemed to dog everyone.
“It's not safe to mention him that loudly,” Wong said, rather obviously. “Anyway, he made her become a nun soon after. Not that it did him much good. There wasn't much to inherit, see, since the Li family had been forced to give up their land for the 'good of the Empire' some years ago during the famine. An was bitter, nonetheless, for having been kicked out of the family.”
“Following that, I presume Magistrate Li desired to deprive someone else, and appropriated the lands of Family Lian? And An decided to use us somehow to get back what she saw as rightfully hers?”
“An always worried that you were too intelligent,” commented Wong. “Assumption's correct. Now you know why she was so loath to give both of you up to nunhood.”
“I still don't see why. We can't inherit anyway,” Flame put in. The tangled results of bureaucratic greed, which Wong was explaining, confused her. All that really mattered was that Li was at the centre of their troubles, and that they would end if she could get rid of him.
“Ah, but Jiang can. That marriage contract is still intact. Li kept it as security against his scheming sister.”
“That's meddlesome of Li, but what do you have to do with it?,” Flame cut in, somewhat impatient. “And how does he know that we're here?”
“You remember the letter, the one that was cited as part of the reason for Jiang's ordination? Well, An wrote that, because she realized that Li had discovered your whereabouts. Never you mind how he knew.”
“All the same, An laoshi was very adamant against us leaving.” Flame thought she could hear a note of uncertainty in Jiang's reluctance to believe in Li's clearly dogged hunt of them.
“She was just against you being ordained before your name was cleared, Li disgraced, and the Lian family lands donated, to the monastery in gratitude.” The monk sounded almost flippant.
“So you're here to ensure that this all comes to pass. That's why An sent you with us, isn't it?” Jiang voiced Flame's thoughts in the first utterance. She'd also dropped Sister An's honorific, Flame noted.
“I assure you, no.” Wong jerked the palanquin forwards.
“Why do you want to help us, then?” Jiang continued to voice their thoughts. She sounded reluctant to allow him. Flame, however, thought she would gladly let him, if the monk was willing to help them against Li.
“I've killed plenty, for country, family, and An's attempts at vengeance against the brother who did her wrong. Righteous causes and ideas of honour. Are they still righteous or honourable, if one kills for them?” The question was posed rhetorically. “I've had my fill of destructive notions, and I'm certainly not going to drag you two in. The battles are over for this old tiger, and he'll die free.”
Free of An's struggles against Li, who had removed her from the family? Flame was perplexed. That was all very well for him, since it wasn't personal for the monk. As if he had heard her thoughts, Wong added:
“You've seen jiaozi, paper money? It's a promise of worth, not actual metal of value. But people exchange it for things of value. Same with notions―you can't feel their value, but they purchase the actions of the people to which they've been given.” He paused momentarily, and Flame wished that he would hurry up.
“Don't be ensnared. Their worth is illusionary.”
Flame had to completely disagree. Maybe feelings and notions were abstract like everything else, to a Buddhist like Wong, but to her, the notion of evil was very real. It manifested itself in Li's actions by the sword many years ago, with the callous group of girls who'd taunted her with Li at the monastery, and the constables who had persecuted her on Li's behalf. In Flame's mind, evil was not a concept, but a man―Magistrate Li. It was easier to focus hatred on a single man, and Flame did it naturally, without thinking about why.
“You still haven't told us how you're going to help,” Flame reminded. Wong was proving to be very long-winded.
“Heh.” The monk chuckled. “You know, An wanted me force one of you into fulfilling the marriage contract if she didn't manage to have Li eliminated.”
“But you won't.” Flame couldn't place the tone in her sister's voice.
“That's right. And I'm not killing Li either. Despite what either of you may think. I actually am a monk.”
It looked like Flame would be dealing with Li herself. Evidently neither Jiang nor Wong could help her. She leaned against the seat back, suddenly exasperated with the lack of action.
“One more thing.”
Perhaps her sister would do something after all. Flame turned, wanting to discern her sister's intention from expression, but in the dark, Jiang was invisible.
“Where is the marriage contract?”
“What are you planning?”
“To remove it, and Magistrate Li's hold over us.”
“Well, I don't k
now where it is. Not even Li's son knows.”
“Why would his son know?,” cut in Flame. She was tired of guessing Wong's intent, and of her sister's seemingly more complex plans to extract them both from Li's clutches without actually confronting him.
“His father entrusted him with their records. Thought it was good preparation for any future positions that he'd hold.”
“Where is he now?” Flame asked. She found herself wondering if Li's son would try to avenge his father, if she managed to kill the judge. She never thought much of the future, but this idea seemed important.
“Forget it,” growled Wong, “both of you should stop living in the past. Such notions are lethal.”
Flame felt that he knew. But clearly he wasn't saying. They travelled silently the rest of the way. It was pitch black by the time they reached their destination― the Canal.