Jeff Stone_Five Ancestors 05

by Eagle

  The snake began to writhe even more frantically. It twisted around again, its bright yellow head bearing down on Ying's left hand. Ying let go of the tail with his right hand, reached for the snake's neck, and … missed. The snake was too fast. It latched on to the back of Ying's left hand.

  Ying fought back a howl. He grabbed at the base of the snake's head with his right hand, but the instant before he made contact, the snake opened its jaws and released its grip. The snake dropped to the ground, slithering powerfully away.

  Ying wasn't about to let it escape. He took two long steps after it, then froze as the creature cruised beneath the curtain and over the tops of four pairs of shoes.

  Those shoes hadn't been there a few moments ago.

  The curtain parted and Ying saw the pet vendor, smiling from ear to ear. He was flanked by three men, all of whom were carrying qiangs pointed directly at Ying.

  None of them carried any dragon bone.

  “I told you that snake was trouble,” the pet vendor said with a laugh. “You should have listened to me, Ying. And you should have been bright enough to know that I would remember you, even with the mask.”

  Ying scowled. He watched the beauty snake slither beyond the four men and on to freedom. He knew he wouldn't get away so easily.

  “Put your hands over your head,” the pet vendor ordered.

  Ying raised his hands, stopping at the black scarf over his face. He adjusted it, stalling for time.

  “Leave that mask right where it is,” the pet vendor said. “Do not lower it or take it off. I don't want anyone to recognize the latest creature I've captured.”

  Several passersby saw the armed men and scattered. Ying hated to admit it, but he needed help. He had no chance against three qiangs. Perhaps Hok was still near enough that she—

  “KEEEEIIIII-AHHHH!” someone shouted, and the sound of splintering bamboo cut through the night air. Ying turned to see Hok smash the gigantic birdcage with her rock-hard elbows and heave a large section of cage at the pet vendor and his three armed accomplices.

  The men's arms flew up to protect their faces as hundreds of small, colorful birds rushed toward freedom in a powerful wave of beating wings and thrashing claws.

  Hok joined the flock, her elbows and crane-beak fists flying. In the blink of an eye, she disarmed one man and knocked a second unconscious. The third armed man took aim at Hok, and Ying sprang into action.

  Ying had his chain whip wrapped around his waist, but there was no time to unfurl it. He ran straight at the man, empty-handed, shrieking with every bit of energy he could muster.

  The man spun around, his eyes wide. He centered his qiang on Ying's chest and pulled the trigger.

  Click!

  Ying was close. He launched his right leg forward with a lightning-quick front-kick.

  Fizz! BANG!

  Ying's foot connected with the qiang, swinging the barrel upward. The qiang fired just over Ying's head.

  His right leg still in the air, Ying pivoted on his left foot and drove his right heel into the man's jaw with a vicious side-kick. The man crumpled.

  Ying heard a bloodcurdling shriek and turned to see the eagle straining at its tether, attempting to fly. The qiang blast must have frightened it. People throughout the marketplace were screaming and running away.

  “Jump back!” Hok shouted.

  Ying obeyed without knowing why and saw a flash of metal breeze past his chest. It was the pet vendor's dagger.

  The thrown dagger had missed him, but Ying stumbled and lost his balance on a piece of broken birdcage. He crashed into a stack of caged pets. Bamboo snapped, and mice and rats began to scurry free over and around him.

  Ying jumped to his feet, brushing the animals away. He heard a man shout and glanced over to see Hok wrestling with the remaining conscious man, who was three times her size. Hok hit him—once— twice—three times—with a crane-beak fist, and he was out.

  Ying looked over at the pet vendor and saw that he was reaching for one of the unconscious men's short qiangs. Ying untied the chain whip from his waist and lashed out at the qiang, knocking it away. The qiang stopped next to a monkey's cage, and the skittish creature scooped it up.

  The pet vendor froze. So did Ying and Hok. The monkey waved the qiang about nervously.

  The pet vendor turned his attention to the monkey. He reached out with one hand, saying sweetly “That's a good boy … give it to me … I will give you a treat if you behave … ” The pet vendor began to walk toward the monkey's cage.

  Ying backed away. He saw the pet vendor's dagger among the pile of broken cages and picked it up. He hurried over to the eagle and dropped to his knees, cutting the long tether. The bird spread its gigantic wings and was gone. Ying almost smiled.

  “No, no, no!” the pet vendor shouted, and Ying turned to see the man waving his arms frantically. “Don't touch that—”

  Click … fizz … BANG!

  The qiang erupted and the monkey screeched. A small cloud of dust rose at the pet vendor's feet where the lead ball had buried itself in the ground. Ying watched Hok step through the cloud and rise up on one leg, planting a crane kick in the center of the pet vendor's face. His nose exploded.

  The pet vendor howled and fell onto his back from the force of Hok's kick. Ying flew over to the pet vendor's side and raised the dagger high over his head.

  “Where is the dragon bone?” Ying hissed.

  “Just beyond the curtain!” the pet vendor whined through what was left of his nose. “Take it! All of it!”

  Ying eyed him suspiciously.

  “I'll get it,” Hok offered. “We need to hurry. Soldiers will be coming.”

  Ying stared hard at the pet vendor. “She is going to go in there. If there are any traps—”

  “No traps!” the pet vendor blubbered. “I promise.”

  Ying nodded to Hok, and she slipped behind the curtain. She returned a moment later with a large silk bag embroidered with golden dragons.

  “That's it!” the pet vendor said. “See, no tricks.”

  Ying spat and poised himself over the pet vendor, raising the dagger even higher.

  “Have mercy!” the pet vendor pleaded. “Don't kill me!”

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't,” Ying said.

  “One reason?” the pet vendor replied with a nervous grin. “All I need to give you is one word.”

  “I'm listening,” Ying said.

  The pet vendor cleared his throat. “Saulong,” he said hesitantly.

  Ying felt his blood run cold. He tightened his grip on the dagger. “How do you know that name?”

  A sly smile spread across the pet vendor's face. “I was there when your father announced it to the camp.”

  Ying blinked. “You knew my father? I don't believe you. What was his name?”

  “Cholong,” the pet vendor said. “Loud Dragon. He used a chain whip, just like the one in your hand. He also had eyes exactly like yours. Your fire burns deep, young man, just like his did. I suspected who you were when you first came here more than a year ago.”

  Ying lessened his grip on the dagger and stepped away from the pet vendor. He felt dizzy.

  The pet vendor sat up. “It's been a long time, Sau-long.”

  “Don't call me that,” Ying said.

  “Okay,” the pet vendor said. “Whatever you say, Ying.”

  “Don't call me that, either!” Ying roared. He began to shake. He felt sweat pouring across his carved forehead and down his carved cheeks. What was happening to him?

  Ying shook his head to clear it. He took a deep breath. So what if this man had known his father? So what if this stranger knew his original name? That was ages ago.

  Ying's eyes filled with rage. “My father is dead and my name has been changed. I don't care about the past. Of what use are you to me?”

  “If you don't care about the past,” the pet vendor said, “then what about the future?”

  “What do you mean?” Ying asked.
>
  The pet vendor smiled. “Let me go free and I'll tell you where you can find something far more valuable than dragon bone.”

  “And that would be?”

  The pet vendor's smile broadened. “Your mother.”

  Tonglong sat in the lap of luxury, his mother at his side. In front of them sat the Emperor with his enormous bodyguard, Xie. They were all lounging together inside the Xuzhou Fight Club, in the Emperor's personal seating area. They had arrived the previous day, exhausted from the long boat ride down the Grand Canal. It was time for some excitement.

  Tonglong looked down into the pit arena. He remembered this one well. It was nearly identical to the one at the Jinan Fight Club, a deep, brick-lined hole wide enough to give the combatants plenty of room to maneuver. Off to one side was a single large door that led to a network of underground tunnels.

  The door swung open in dramatic fashion, and the crowd erupted with cheers. The fight club owner announced that they would begin the night with something special. One of the headliners, Golden Dragon, would fight first.

  Tonglong had never seen Golden Dragon fight. He was looking forward to this.

  Golden Dragon entered the pit arena, and the crowd roared. Bettors began to scramble to and from the bettors’ table. Golden Dragon's opponent soon shuffled into the arena, and the crowd jeered. He was an obese foreign round eye with a pale, bald head and hairy back. He was much older, and much larger, than Golden Dragon.

  The fight club owner left the pit arena through the tunnel doorway, and the door slammed shut. A huge gong rang out, and the fight began.

  Golden Dragon's opponent was twice his size, but it was immediately clear to Tonglong that the huge foreigner wasn't half the fighter Golden Dragon was. Golden Dragon zigged and zagged across the stone floor, mimicking the movements of a mythical dragon with inhuman fluidity. He floated and sank, adjusting his weight to allow for maximum velocity should he decide to strike. He was biding his time, sizing up his lumbering, cumbersome opponent.

  Tonglong knew that you could tell a lot about a person by watching him or her fight. Some fighters were constantly on the attack, while others were counter punchers. Some committed to a technique and followed through, while others primarily used feints.

  Some were very technical, while others were brawlers who lived for the lucky punch.

  It was said that Golden Dragon was a technical counterpuncher who committed. The hairy foreigner was rumored to be just the opposite. To the uninformed, this might sound like an interesting match. In real life, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

  The foreigner quickly grew tired of Golden Drag on's hypnotic movements and dropped his hands, running straight at Golden Dragon, attempting to tackle him. Golden Dragon backed up to the perimeter wall and sank low, then rose high into the air with a powerful leap that took him clear over the foreigner. Unable to stop his own forward momentum, the foreigner crashed into the solid brick wall with a loud THUD!

  The crowd roared with laughter.

  Tonglong was not amused. He'd noticed that Golden Dragon had had the perfect opportunity to kick his opponent in the head as he flew over, which would have inflicted significant damage. However, Golden Dragon had held back. Allowing a fight to continue a moment longer than necessary could mean the difference between life and death. Golden Dragon was intelligent enough to know this. He was up to something.

  The foreigner turned to face Golden Dragon.

  Again, Golden Dragon sank low.

  The foreigner rushed toward Golden Dragon, and Golden Dragon unleashed a powerful roundhouse kick. Tonglong could clearly see the momentum build from Golden Dragon's foot, up through his leg, into his hip, and around his waist—then back out the same way, like a dragon whipping its tail. The kick should have cracked the foreigner's skull in two. Instead, Golden Dragon's foot only grazed the burly man's forehead, stunning him.

  The crowd gasped.

  Tonglong's eyes narrowed. It took incredible skill and precision to graze someone's head like that.

  The foreigner wobbled, and the crowd began to chant, “Finish him! Finish him! Finish him!”

  Golden Dragon's jaw tightened visibly. Tonglong watched him cock back his right arm, form a dragon fist, and let it fly. The raised middle-finger knuckle of Golden Dragon's fist bounced off the side of the foreigner's head, and the big man crashed to the ground, out like a flame in a windstorm.

  The crowd roared its approval.

  Tonglong shook his head. These peasants had no idea what had just happened. Golden Dragon could have finished the foreigner any number of ways—for good—but instead he'd simply knocked the man out.

  Tonglong leaned toward his mother. “Did you see that?” he whispered.

  “Yesss,” AnGangseh replied. “The boy did not wish to harm his opponent. There is sssomething about that child I do not trust.”

  “Me neither,” Tonglong said. “We must keep an eye on him.”

  “Agreed,” AnGangseh said.

  The Emperor leaned his regal head back toward Tonglong. “Discussing anything interesting?”

  “Just commenting on the boy's extraordinary ssskill, Your Highness.”

  “Indeed,” the Emperor said with a sniff. “He has a bright future ahead of him.” The Emperor turned away.

  There were a few more fights scheduled for the night, but Tonglong was beginning to feel restless. Not long ago, he had received reports that Ying and Hok had been sighted walking along the canal front right here in Xuzhou. They were moving quickly and had managed to slip away through the crowd before Tong-long's men could react. However, Tonglong was confident Ying and Hok would be found. It was just a matter of time.

  As though it were a sign from the heavens, AnGangseh tapped Tonglong gently on the knee and pointed discreetly toward the fight club's main door.

  Tonglong looked over to see a very excited soldier in the doorway. The man signaled for Tonglong to join him. Tonglong could tell from the soldier's expression what news he possessed.

  Ying had been sighted again.

  Tonglong excused himself and headed for the entrance.

  Ying pushed his way through Xuzhou's narrow back-streets, light-headed and dizzy. He felt as if he needed to throw up. Hok hurried behind him, carrying the bag of powdered dragon bone they'd taken from the pet vendor, along with Ying's bag of coins, plus her own. They'd been running for more than an hour, but the pet vendor's words still rang clearly in Ying's head. He'd spoken with the man for less than a quarter of an hour, but he knew that that short conversation had changed his life forever.

  “Slow down, Ying,” Hok said. “The danger is behind us. You should rest and try to clear your head. Trust me, I know what you are going through.”

  Ying stopped and turned to Hok. He was breathing heavily, his bruised ribs and injured shoulder screaming at him every time he inhaled. “You don't know a thing about what I'm going through.”

  “Ying, please—”

  Ying snatched his bag of coins from Hok and walked away, adjusting the scarf across his face. He saw an ancient woman ahead, hunched over a small basket that had steam pouring out of the top and hot coals beneath it. Dinner buns. Good. Some food might make his dizziness go away. He approached the old woman and bought everything she had—three buns filled with chicken and three with sweet red-bean paste. After paying, Ying shoved the bean-paste buns at his vegetarian former sister. “Stay close to me and keep your mouth shut,” he said.

  Ying continued on and soon found a small, out-of-the-way alley off a dark section of street. Even the brilliant moon's rays couldn't reach into its depths. Ying sat down and took a huge bite of dinner bun. It was rather flavorless, but at least it was warm and filling. He had hoped to finish it in peace and quiet, but it seemed Hok had other plans.

  “We need to talk,” Hok said.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” Ying replied.

  “You've just been through a lot,” Hok said. “Let me help you.”

  Ying didn't re
spond.

  “The pet vendor said that your mother lives at the end of the Grand Canal,” Hok said. “Let's go there.”

  “What makes you think I want to see her?”

  “I would want to see my mother.”

  “I thought you came on this trip to help Seh.”

  “I did, but I don't think Seh will be any worse off if I wait a few extra weeks, or even longer, to begin giving him powdered dragon bone as a treatment. Let me help you first.”

  Ying noticed that his hands were still shaking. He curled back his upper lip, angry that Hok was pushing him and upset that she was seeing him like this. “Why do you keep wanting to help me? Don't say that's just what people do. I don't buy it.”

  “People should help one another,” Hok said, “and you obviously could use some help. It's that simple. You can accept my words or disregard them. Believe what you want to believe. That's what you're going to do, anyway.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “You've never listened to anyone, no matter how good the advice.”

  “That's because most people are stupid.”

  Hok stared, unblinking, at him. “You are very clever, Ying. No one will deny that. However, just because you are smarter than most people does not mean that most people are stupid.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “No.”

  Ying took another bite of his dinner bun. “I hate you,” he mumbled.

  “I realize that. After all, you tried to kill me and the others,” Hok said matter-of-factly. “Oddly enough, I never understood why it is you hate us so much.”

  “Because you were spoiled rotten,” Ying said.

  “You wanted to kill us because you were jealous of us?”

  “That's not what I said.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Grandmaster treated all of you differently than me,” Ying said. “He treated you differently, even though you were no more special than I was. In fact, I'm better at kung fu than any of you. I worked harder than any of you. I went on a mission for Grandmaster, and I never received any recognition for it. I even lost my best friend on that mission. It was so … unfair.”