Meandering River, Ardent Flame

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Meandering River, Ardent Flame Page 29

by Vivian Chak


  ***

  Flame was not going to trust others anymore. Or to be more specific, she was not going to depend on others to get what she wanted done for her. Last night's conversation had been proof of that—hadn't her sister practically admitted that she had been taking a passive position in the whole conflict, and only trying to influence its outcome?

  Flame shook her head. She was letting her anger think for her. She tried two slashes with the old Tang blade, as if to pass it through Li's head. Immediately, she felt better. This was probably why her sister exercised all the time. Not long after the noodles incident, Flame had finally realized that her sister's mediation consisted of standing in ma bo for hours. At least she thought it was hours—her sister would sometimes read the Diamond Sutra while standing like that, and Flame knew that Jiang could meditate on its meanings for a long time.

  She tried for an angled block, sword tip sweeping downwards, from the head, in a large circle. The move felt unbalanced, and her momentum forced her into a hasty stab. She inadvertently relaxed as the thrust was close to completion, and as a result, her arm shook when the blade vibrated.

  Gritting her teeth, Flame tried for another block, which she promptly turned into a second stab. This time, she stiffened at the end, so that the blade was thrust steadily into Li's imaginary heart. Xiang's blade had moved straight and confidently throughout their confrontation with the bandits. Flame would have to ask him how he did it.

  “A pretty blade you've acquired there.” Flame looked up to see Wong watching from the porch. “Though it might have rusted all inside, given its age.”

  “It's still sharp. Probably cut a lot of people in its past use,” Flame said, recalling what the sword vendor had said about it being malevolent. It was unfortunate that Wong couldn't teach her. Xiang was away again. He had business, he explained, but he promised to be back with a rectifying solution for their current stalemate with Li.

  “All blades do that. They even do that to their owners. I had a teacher who accidentally sliced off her toe with a dao.”

  “What were you learning from her then?”

  “Not to slice my toes off,” said Wong, grinning. “But truly, it's the people who make mistakes, learn from them, and then admit it freely, who make the best teachers.”

  Flame wondered if Wong knew of her conversation with Jiang. It sounded as if he was trying to tell her something about her sister, though it wasn't useful if he was going to approach it vaguely.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Only that you shouldn't dismiss your sister simply for her past faults.” The monk seemed to know what she was thinking. She should have learned to do that years ago with her sister.

  “She didn't tell me her faults for seven years. Even if I were a nun, it would take me at least more than a single morning to get over it.”

  “What you want to do is learn from it.”

  “I did. I learned that I'm only going to get things out of my sister if I ask her explicitly.” She thought of how her sister had admitted a desire to influence; control outcomes. “I also learned that influence is a weak form of power.”

  “Very perceptive. But you should make amends with your sister.”

  “Why should I do that?” Wong smiled slyly in response to this question.

  “Because Li would be ecstatic to know that he could use you two against each other.”

  “I already said I can't trust my sister,” Flame retorted, though somewhat weakly. Wong knew exactly how to get her attention, she realized, and what was more, his words resonated with her thoughts accurately.

  “Would you at least trust her not to kill you?”

  “Of course. My sister wouldn't kill anyone, for fear of providing bad influence.” Flame was slightly annoyed. That was a pointless question.

  “Alright. Keep that trust then. It'll be useful.” Flame couldn't argue with that.

  “And work on your blocks. I might not be a swordsman, but I can certainly spear one that can't parry,” growled Wong, in a parting shot.

  Flame was left alone with her ancient sword and thoughts. Did Wong watch everyone when they trained? Maybe that was why he knew how to appeal to them. Flame shook her head to clear it. Perhaps it was the fact that she had slept very little last night, or because of Jiang's words, but she was beginning to do a lot of reflection on the motivations of others. And it was distracting. She really should be figuring out how to kill Li instead.

  The sword whistled through the air, parrying Li's imaginary blade, and then propelled itself to sink into an imaginary throat. Yes, her thoughts were slightly blood-soaked this morning, but Flame couldn't help it.

  After giving in partially to her sister last night, Flame had awoken in the morning with the awful clarity that if her sister could keep secrets for so long, Li could definitely keep them to the grave. He certainly wasn't going to provide her with the means to clear their family name, when he was breaking a promise that her sister still believed. No one else could hate her family as Li did.

  The only way was for Flame to kill him.

  She continued to press forwards, blade spinning circularly to continuously block both upper and lower body. That hadn't worked very well with Xiang; most likely he would have killed her eventually if he hadn't acknowledged her instead. So she worked on it now. Besides, it might be useful against Li, when she finally confronted him.

  It would be hypocritical of her not to, Flame mused, after reassuring her mother that she would remember the family. Part of the reason for her fitful sleep had been that she had dreamed of Li chasing her again, even after pulling her from the burning house, and her mother urging her in her head to remember Family Lian.

  Well, actually her mother, in her dream, had only said the word lian. Flame stopped the spinning. Could it be a reference, to stay close, to her sister? No, that was over-interpretation, something Jiang was prone to do. She twirled the old blade idly. But it was possible. The blade stopped. Flame felt a cold prickle grow on her neck. It wouldn't do to upset her parents' ghosts. If they had continually haunted her dreams for seven years, just because Li wasn't dead yet, what would they do to her, if she made an enemy of her sister too?

  Evidently this lack of sleep wasn't good for her. Flame resolved to sleep early tonight. But first she had to solve things with her sister.

 

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