by Eagle
As the days passed, their surroundings changed from forest to farmland to village and back to forest, in no particular order. The late-summer weather changed often, too. It would be raining heavily one moment, then sunny and hot the next, followed by a chilly day.
The only constant Ying noticed was an odd one. Early every morning, no matter where they were, if it wasn't raining, he saw old people exercising along the canal like the ones he'd seen at the park in Xuzhou. He assumed they were practicing something called Tai Chi Chuan, or Grand Ultimate Fist. He had never seen Tai Chi before, but he'd heard of it. He'd found the name amusing because it appeared to be nothing more than a series of slow-motion exercises that old people used to stay in shape. He knew that breathing techniques played an important part, and he could hear some of the practitioners hacking and wheezing as if they were taking their last breaths. On a couple of occasions, he half expected Hok to have to jump out and attend to the old-timers. There was nothing grand or ultimate or even fistlike about any of it.
Things went smoothly until they reached the city of Zhenjiang a week later. Zhenjiang was built on the banks of the mighty Yangtze River. The Yangtze was so famous, Ying had learned of it back at Cangzhen Temple. It was said that the Yangtze was even bigger than the Yellow River. Once Ying laid eyes on the extraordinarily wide Yangtze, he believed it. Unfortunately, before they would be allowed to cross it to continue down the Grand Canal, they had to pass through a check station.
Ying had heard about check stations, but this was his first time passing through one. They were set up by the Emperor's men or regional warlords to assist with manhunts. Ying had a feeling he knew who this check station had been set up to intercept.
Ying was working the skiff's oar, and he called out to Hok in a hushed tone, “You're going to have to take the oar. There is a check station ahead. I have to hide, and you have to figure out a way to not look like yourself. Pretend you have buckteeth or something.”
“But there isn't any place to hide someone your size on this skiff,” Hok said. “We don't have blankets or anything like that—”
“Blankets are no good,” ShaoShu interrupted. “Everybody hides beneath blankets. I'll show you how to hide. Lie down under the canopy, Ying. I'm going to make a junk pile around you.”
Ying hesitated.
“Don't you trust me?” ShaoShu asked. “You said you did.”
Ying hesitated another moment, then handed the oar over to Hok. He hurried beneath the canopy and cleared a space on the floor of the skiff, then lay down.
ShaoShu stepped next to him. “Give me your socks,” he said.
“My socks?” Ying asked.
ShaoShu nodded. “The ones you're wearing right now. Nothing keeps nosy people away from junk piles better than dirty socks. I'll let you borrow mine, too, if you want.”
“Wonderful,” Ying said, making a sour face. He removed his shoes and socks and handed both to ShaoShu.
ShaoShu took only the socks. “Keep your shoes hidden close to you or put them back on,” he said. “They are too big to be Hok's or mine. They will look suspicious on top of the pile.”
Ying smiled. ShaoShu was good.
ShaoShu went to work, grabbing food, rope, the skiff's push pole—anything that wasn't tied down.
In a matter of moments, Ying found himself expertly buried, invisible to the world.
Ying lay there for nearly an hour before he finally heard soldiers asking questions of travelers. They were about to pass through the check station. He felt the skiff bump against a dock, and the pile shifted slightly. Ying noticed a sliver of light near his right eye, and he tilted his head, aligning his eye with it. A small gap had formed in the pile, and Ying could see out of it. He saw that the skiff had been pulled alongside a makeshift dock, and there was a soldier standing on the dock, near the skiff's stern. The soldier did not look happy.
“What are your names?” the soldier asked.
From beneath the pile, Ying heard Hok say, “My name is Ming, and this is my little brother, Ching.”
“Ming and Ching?” the soldier said. “Hmmm. Where are you heading?”
“We are traveling south to the city of Wuxi,” Hok lied. “We would like to cross the famed Yangtze River here, if that is okay with you.”
“You two appear harmless enough,” the soldier said, appearing to relax. “I just need to search your skiff, and you can be on your way.”
“Search the skiff?” Hok said. “Whatever for?”
“Oddly enough, we're looking for a girl whose description vaguely matches you. However, our target has, ah, different teeth and is traveling with a male who is older than she is, not younger. The male is a teenager and his face is carved to resemble a dragon. You haven't seen a young teenage man with a dragon's face, have you?”
“A dragon's face?” Hok replied. “Heavens, no. Dragons scare me.”
“Me too!” ShaoShu squeaked.
Beneath the pile, Ying stifled a laugh.
“This will only take a moment,” the soldier said, and Ying felt the skiff rock as the man climbed aboard. “I just need to poke through that pile under your canopy, and you can be on your way.”
Ying no longer felt like laughing. His blood ran cold.
“Excuse me,” ShaoShu said. “Can I help? When I grow up, I want to be a soldier, just like you.”
The soldier laughed. “You want to be a soldier, huh? Well, sure, you can help. Come on over here.”
Ying frowned. What was ShaoShu up to? He heard ShaoShu say, “Thanks!” and felt a thud as ShaoShu jumped on top of the pile.
“Whoa!” ShaoShu called out, and Ying felt the pile begin to shift. “Help me!” ShaoShu cried. “I'm falling and I can't swim—”
ShaoShu's words were cut short by a loud splash! The gap in the pile near Ying's eye had opened a bit more, and Ying saw ShaoShu flailing in the water a surprising distance from the skiff.
“Somebody, please, help him!” Hok cried, playing along. “I can't swim, either.”
Ying heard the soldier grunt, and the skiff rocked as the man dove into the canal. Ying saw the soldier swim over to ShaoShu, grab him by the collar, and haul him back toward the skiff. The soldier must have been a powerful swimmer because he managed to lift ShaoShu out of the water and drop him into the skiff. The soldier then swam over to the dock and climbed out of the canal. He stood, dripping wet, and scolded ShaoShu.
“You two have no business traveling by boat if you cannot swim!” the soldier said. “Now move along, I've got real work to do.”
Ying heard Hok take hold of the oar, and they pulled quickly away from the dock. He remained hidden until ShaoShu poked his tiny head into the pile nearly an hour later. They were most of the way across the wide Yangtze River by that time.
“Are you okay?” ShaoShu asked. “I hope I didn't hurt you when I jumped onto the pile. It was the only thing I could think of.”
“Hurt me?” Ying said. “I'm fine. That was some fast thinking, ShaoShu. I'm impressed. One question, though—do you really not know how to swim?”
“Of course I know how to swim,” ShaoShu replied. “I might be a little crazy sometimes, but I'm not stupid.”
Ying smiled. “Very well. Thank you, ShaoShu. I'm glad I trusted you.”
“Me too,” Hok added from the stern.
ShaoShu blushed. “Do you want me to dig you out now?”
Ying shook his head. “I think I'd better stay under here awhile longer, just to be safe. Would you mind covering me back up?”
ShaoShu nodded and went to work without saying another word.
South of the Yangtze River, the current in the Grand Canal was much stronger and continued to work in their favor. The canal also widened substantially. There were many more stone bridges and pagodas in this region, along with increasingly larger villages. As they continued south, day after day, the villages soon became cities and Ying began to feel claustrophobic. There were people and boats everywhere, and many more locks. He ended up wea
ring his black silk mask at all hours, hating every moment of it. He even hid beneath ShaoShu's junk pile on a few occasions, though they didn't encounter any more check stations, fortunately.
The canal eventually passed through the city of Wuxi, the fake destination Hok had given the soldier, and continued around the eastern edge of the gigantic Lake Tai. They passed through the city of Jiaxing, where there was another fight club, and Ying knew they were getting close. Finally, more than two weeks after leaving Xuzhou, they reached the bustling city of Hangzhou.
The Grand Canal was more crowded here than anywhere Ying had ever been in his life. Boats were being loaded and unloaded everywhere he looked. The sea was close by, and Hangzhou was the main hub where goods from all over China—and beyond—were exchanged. Ying saw more round eyes than he could count. The closer they got to the center of the city, the more round eyes he saw. They were everywhere.
Ying thought about Charles. He would probably feel right at home here. Ying, on the other hand, didn't like it one bit. He turned to Hok. “See anybody you know?” he joked.
Hok shot him an irritated glance.
“Yeah, me neither,” Ying said. “They all look the same to me.”
Hok shook her head.
They continued on, passing through the congestion of central Hangzhou to the southern edge of the city. Here, the canal ended, emptying into the Qiantang River.
“Are we almost there?” ShaoShu asked.
“Yes,” Ying replied. He turned to Hok, who was working the oar. “According to the pet vendor, we need to follow the river west, toward the sea, for several hours until we see a small tributary branching south that is flanked by twin pagodas. We're supposed to follow that for another It or so until we come upon a tidy house set far from the water at the base of a steep, tree-covered hill.”
“Are you nervous?” Hok asked.
Ying didn't answer.
Hok glanced at ShaoShu, then back at Ying. “If you want to go alone, I understand. I have enough money to stay here in Hangzhou.”
Ying thought for a moment. “I'll let you know,” he said.
Hok turned the boat onto the river and felt the canal's current subside and the river's current begin to pull them west, toward the sea. Ying scanned the river-bank. Docked along the wide river were huge foreign sailing vessels and smaller seafaring Chinese junks. Workers of various races hurried in every direction, loading and unloading goods. Ying turned to say something to Hok but saw that her eyes were fixed on a gigantic storefront.
Ying read the enormous sign. It was an apothecary. He couldn't imagine how many different medicinal herbs were housed in a building that size. “I bet you could spend hours in that place,” he said.
Hok grinned. “Days, probably.”
Ying paused. “Why don't you, then? The more I think about it, the more I'd rather continue on alone. I'll come back in a few days.”
“Are you sure?” Hok asked.
Ying nodded.
“What are you two talking about?” ShaoShu asked.
“Ying needs to go someplace alone,” Hok said. “We will dock soon. I am going to stay here at an inn. What are you going to do?”
“Can I stay with you?” ShaoShu asked.
“Of course,” Hok replied. “You can stay with me as long as you'd like.”
“Thank you!” ShaoShu said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You and Ying are the nicest people in the world!”
Ying felt his cheeks begin to blush. He looked away.
“Am I really going to stay in an inn?” ShaoShu asked Hok
“Yes,” Hok replied. “One that serves meals and has hot baths.”
“Hurray!” ShaoShu said. “I've never had a hot bath before. Where are you going, Ying?”
Ying looked at ShaoShu. “To find my mother.”
“Really?” ShaoShu asked. “Are you excited?”
“No questions,” Ying replied, half joking. “Remember?”
“Sorry,” ShaoShu said, and again he pretended to lock his mouth closed.
Ying nodded, and Hok turned the skiff toward the apothecary. She found an unoccupied slip among the docks out front and pulled in. Ying grabbed hold of a dock pylon, and Hok and ShaoShu climbed out.
Hok slipped her herb bag over her shoulder and tightened the green turban on her head. “When and where should we meet again?” she asked.
“We can meet right here,” Ying replied. “This is a busy area. You should be able to find an inn nearby.”
Hok nodded. “How long will you be gone?”
“I'm not sure,” Ying replied. “I don't know how long it will take to get there, and I should probably spend some time with her. How about three days?”
“Three days sounds good,” Hok said. “Let's meet here at sunset.”
Ying nodded and glanced at ShaoShu. “I almost forgot something important,” Ying said. “Hok, open your medicine bag, please.”
Hok gave Ying a quizzical glance but did as he asked. Ying untied his bag of coins from his sash with one hand and dumped half the contents into Hok's medicine bag.
“You did well, ShaoShu,” Ying said. “You deserve this.”
ShaoShu grinned but didn't say a word, his mouth still locked closed.
“You can talk now,” Ying said.
“I'm rich!” ShaoShu squealed. “Thank you!”
Ying smiled. As much as he hated to admit it, he was going to miss Little Mouse. “Take care of Hok while I'm gone, okay?” he said.
ShaoShu suddenly grew serious. “I will guard her with my life,” he said. Ying didn't doubt it.
Hok offered Ying a polite bow. “Safe travels, and good luck.”
Ying nodded back. He let go of the pylon and the current began to pull him gently away. ShaoShu waved an enthusiastic goodbye, and Ying actually returned the wave. Then he turned away, grabbed the oar, and began to row downstream.
The river was pleasantly smooth, and Ying felt himself relaxing as he left the crowded city behind. Five hours later, he spotted the pagodas.
Ying turned the skiff south, as the pet vendor had directed, and headed up a rather wide creek. He lifted the oar out of the water so that it wouldn't drag along the bottom, and picked up the push pole. He had to work against the creek's current, but it wasn't difficult. The current was light and his shoulder felt strong.
As Ying poled the boat forward, the landscape quickly changed from flat farmland along the Qiantang River to steep, ragged hillsides farther inland. The slopes were thick with evergreens, but some had hundreds of wide steps carved into them, where farmers grew crops of tea leaves all the way up to the hilltops. Ying had never seen anything like it. It seemed the locals were determined to squeeze a living out of this scenic but rugged landscape.
Ying took a deep breath of the fresh, warm air. It smelled of pine, cypress, and green tea. He felt oddly at home. He'd heard a saying once about this region: “Above is Heaven, below is Hangzhou.” He had to agree.
A little more than one It up the creek, Ying reached his destination. It was exactly as the pet vendor had told him it would be.
The house looked very old, but solid as a mountain. It was single-story and fashioned from brown bricks. It had a traditional green-tiled roof, and each of the roof's corners swept sharply upward to dispel evil spirits. Standing guard at the end of each corner was an ornate stone dragon. Each dragon was different, and Ying couldn't seem to pull his eyes from them. They faced north, south, east, and west. Each also represented a different season. Whoever had carved them had put a lot of effort and energy into them. Ying could almost feel them pulsating with life.
Ying couldn't help but think about the dragon scrolls and the treasure. The scroll map did lead to this area, and a house like this one seemed to be an appropriate place to hide a dragon's hoard. He would have to keep his eyes open for potential clues.
Ying looked farther down the creek and saw a garden thick with early-autumn vegetables. In the center of it knelt a small woman wearing a lar
ge straw hat. In one hand, she held several clumps of weeds. In the other was a long blade used for digging them up. She turned and stared at Ying.
A deep chill ran down Ying's spine. The woman's face was shadowed by the wide-brimmed hat, but it didn't matter. He knew who she was.
Nervous tension twisted Ying's stomach muscles into knots. His limbs grew numb, and he felt the pole slipping out of his hands. He gripped it tighter and continued pushing the skiff up the creek.
Ying watched as his mother slowly stood and advanced toward him. She dropped the clumps of weeds at the garden's edge but kept the blade in her hand.
The black silk mask fluttered across Ying's face, and he began to fumble with it, cursing himself. Why was he acting like a nervous child? He needed to keep his head clear. After all, his mother was holding a weapon. Ying shook his head violently, flinging the mask from his face, and pushed the skiff ashore.
Ying's mother stopped several paces from the skiff and removed her hat. Physically, she looked the same as he remembered. Her eyes were large, her nose was small, and her lips were full. Her long black hair was pulled back in a braid and several wisps hung free around her cheeks.
Ying stared at his mother as though she were a stranger. He bowed. “Greetings. I am Ying.”
His mother scanned the dragon creases carved into his face. He knew that she was looking right through them, into his soul. “So I see,” she replied. “You have changed, my son.”
“Yes, I have.”
Ying's mother nodded. “Welcome, then, Ying. You may call me WanSow.”
Ying blinked and thought, Cloud Hand? That wasn't her name. She'd changed it.
WanSow seemed to read his mind. “Like the seasons, many things change. You and me included. I am rather surprised you recognized me. You were very young when we last saw one another.”