Meandering River, Ardent Flame

by Vivian Chak

  Chapter 16: Meandering River, Ardent Flame

  The break of day was met with a strange sight. Though Family Li had prepared their white garments, and was searching for a priest to oversee the funeral, the prefect's son was nowhere to be found. Following the noise of clamorous steel, however, the servants soon found Li's son engaged in clashing swords with a vermilion young woman. It was the prefect's killer! Several of them ran to find the mistress, while the rest remained to watch, wide-eyed.

  The pair was fighting viciously, red one cutting in a quick blur, circling closely into their master's guard, where he could not use the full length of his weapon effectively. Xiaowen's blade turned and sought an opening, but the murderess spun in its direction every time, heedless of the death in his hands, pressing dangerously close with her sword. Fortunately, it seemed as if she had not yet figured out how to stab him, at such close quarters, but it was only a matter of time. The servants trembled.

  Lady Li came running, already pale in a white mourning gown, and she grew paler still at the sight of her son.

  “Xiaowen!” The mother's call was plaintive. But the son did not turn. He was caught by the need to avenge his father. The red robes spun and flew like flames, while the blade pressed ever more quickly. Xiaowen was caught between wall and sword, streaked with sweat, as metal might bead, in the presence of fire. He slashed out desperately.

  A quick blur of blue-grey robes appeared from nowhere. It was difficult to tell who it was― oh, this must be the flame's sister! Bianjing would be discussing this for weeks to come. Not surprisingly, the pair did not cease. The master's sword whirled for the red's throat, but the young woman's blade was already inches from his own...

  ...until the blue-robed woman batted it away barehanded, as a crane might wield its wings. That was a surprise. The master's sword continued in its trajectory, but the woman threw her sister down. He had glanced the younger's arm, however. They could tell by the darkened ground. Young Li now stood over them both, blade in hand. The elder stood to face him, empty-handed. This one was dangerous though, they knew. The head guardsman of the docks had regaled the youngest among them with tales of a crazy Shaolin nun, who had battered four of them into unconsciousness. One of them had died.

  But the master didn't seem to move. Indeed, he might as well have been made of metal. The servants stared, and the mistress shrieked something unintelligible. It might have been an order for her son to kill, or maybe for one of them to get the constables. The cook ran for the guard. The remainder watched. On the manor wall, a murder of crows stared with beady eyes.