by Don Bosco
“Mrs Hong?” Constable Flint said. “Please, I need your cooperation.”
“Miss Priya had something very valuable with her,” Ma finally admitted.
CHAPTER 5
The hotel manager was a short and bald man named Edward James. Around my father’s age. He had a habit of pulling out his white handkerchief and wiping his face every two minutes.
Constable Flint asked if we could use his office for a quick discussion. Mr James wasn’t pleased, but he said yes.
“I demand full police protection,” Mr James told Constable Flint. “Get your men to patrol this area. At least until you catch that monster responsible for the explosion. My poor guests are extremely distressed. If they move to another hotel, it would be your fault!”
Inside his office, there was a long couch. Ma and I sat on it while Constable Flint pulled up a wooden chair.
He took out his notebook and a pencil stub from his breast pocket.
“Tell me everything you know,” he said. “We have to find Miss Priya fast.”
Ma nodded. She looked grim.
“Miss Priya is an expert on Asian languages,” Ma said to Constable Flint. “She has given many lectures in Singapore, and also around the world. Recently, a group of scholars in London invited her to be part of an important translation project.”
I guessed that Ma was talking about the assignment I was helping Miss Priya with. Until I got distracted by the circus.
“These people want to translate all the great books of Asia into English,” Ma continued. “They hope to gather the ancient secrets of the East and the West, and share this knowledge freely across the world. They have no official name. But they are sometimes referred to as the Assembly of True Equality.”
Constable Flint scratched his cheek. He looked stumped. He was great at chasing pickpockets and ambushing smugglers. But he didn’t have much interest in translating books, or even reading them.
“Madam Hong, let’s cut to the important bit,” he said, almost impatiently. “You mentioned that Miss Priya had something valuable here. What was it?”
Ma took a deep breath before continuing. “One of the books they want to translate is an ancient sword fighting manual from China, called The Sword of Lady Yue. It was written over two thousand years ago. The Assembly of True Equality asked Master Hong to recommend someone suitable to do the translation. He suggested Miss Priya.”
Constable Flint sat back. I could sense his brain working hard to figure out where all this was headed. I could also sense that he wasn’t making much progress.
“There are only four genuine copies of this book in existence today,” Ma said. “They are locked up in private libraries across China. Heavily guarded day and night. But with Master Hong’s help, the Assembly of True Equality was allowed to borrow a copy from the Hanlin Academy, where my husband’s cousin’s wife’s brother is the Library Master. The book was delivered to Miss Priya last week, so she could start working on it.”
Constable Flint opened his mouth to speak, but Ma quickly continued.
“When I searched the room just now, I discovered that not only has Miss Priya disappeared, but the book is gone too. It was probably what the man in black came for. We must find the book before the Hanlin Academy hears about this. They’ll feel insulted and betrayed. I know them very well. To save their honour, they’ll send an assassin after my husband.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. My father was innocent. He was just being helpful. Why should the Hanlin Academy blame him?
Constable Flint jumped to his feet. As if someone had dropped a bucket of hot coals on his lap.
“We will not tolerate such lawless behaviour in this colony,” he said. He looked even more vexed than before. “I assure you that we’ll protect Master Hong from any such nonsense. But, and I repeat, you mustn’t hide anything from me.”
Ma looked at him in a wary way. “What do you mean?”
“I understand how important the book is,” Constable Flint said, “but is there anyone who might also want Miss Priya out of the way? When they appointed her as the translator for this project, was anyone unhappy?”
That was a good question. I was surprised that Constable Flint could be so sharp.
Ma looked like she was wrestling with a very difficult decision.
“Old Master Foo was furious,” Ma revealed at last. “He said that there are plenty of great books from India, which Miss Priya could translate for the Assembly of True Equality. He insisted that a Chinese scholar should be given the honour of translating The Sword of Lady Yue. He wanted my husband to recommend his grandson, Robert Foo, instead.”
Constable Flint took notes. His pencil flew across the page, leaving lines and lines of jagged scribbles. He didn’t even look up. Now he had a suspect.
“And then?”
“Master Hong discussed it with a few others in our community,” Ma said. “Everyone agreed that Miss Priya was the right person for this job. But Old Master Foo said he would be disappointed if his grandson was not given the opportunity.”
CHAPTER 6
Ma and I went home after that.
Once we got back, I rushed to my room and pulled out the book that Miss Priya had asked me to summarise.
It was on the history of Chinese sword fighting. One third of it was dedicated to the story of Lady Yue.
I grabbed a peach from the kitchen, and went into my room to read about this amazing sword fighting legend.
Who was she? Why was she so special?
Here’s what I found out.
In the old days — three thousand years ago — there was a king in China named Yu the Great.
He was both an inventor as well as a student of magic.
At a young age, he could predict the weather, forecast events, anticipate the movement of stars from one night to another, and move the hearts of his people with special words and gestures.
His descendants later came to rule the Kingdom of Yue. They used Yu the Great’s secret techniques to create great weapons which seemed almost magical.
One example was the Sword of King Guojian. According to old legends, it was so sharp and strong that it could penetrate the thickest armour and split the hardest rock with one blow.
Battle after battle, the sword grew in power and radiance, until the enemies of Yue trembled at the mere mention of this sword.
But King Guojian knew that this weapon was just a tool. In the hands of a fool or a coward, it would be reduced to a worthless strip of metal.
He searched his kingdom to find a teacher who could train his soldiers in the true art of sword fighting, which didn’t rely on weapons, but on the inner power that each person possesses.
Many people came forward to offer their services. Famous generals, monks, hermits from the Cloudy Mountains, even bandit lords.
King Guojian met them all, but he wasn’t impressed.
One day, he heard that there was an exceptional sword fighter living in the Southern Forest, someone that the villagers revered as a hero of the people.
King Guojian ordered his soldiers to escort this sword fighter to his court.
To his surprise, the sword fighter was a woman.
As she didn’t have a proper name, some jealous ministers were quick to mock her.
They called her the Nameless Lady of the Southern Forest.
CHAPTER 7
The rest of that day, no updates came from Constable Flint.
Ah Mah spent the afternoon telling even more neighbours that Miss Priya had been abducted by a ghost. I caught her rehearsing the story in the kitchen, and practising different expressions of terror, so that she could be more convincing.
As for me, I couldn’t help feeling anxious.
I went out to leave messages for Aisha and Pui, another friend of mine. I told them to meet me after dinner, under the tallest tree along the canal behind my house.
There was still some light in the sky when we got together.
Pui was munching on a thic
k chunk of fried tapioca when he arrived. He chewed loudly, and there were oily stains all around his mouth.
He’s a good person, and he genuinely enjoys helping others. It’s just that he’s easily distracted by six things: breakfast, lunch, tea, dinner, supper and snacks.
Aisha found a few small rocks for us to sit on. And then I told them everything I knew.
Firstly, I talked about the explosion. Although it didn’t damage the lock on the door, it indicated that the villain was willing to go to extreme lengths to steal The Sword of Lady Yue. I suspected that he, or she, might have been spying on Miss Priya for some time.
Then I mentioned John Chung, the hotel guest who saw the masked man. Aisha asked if we could find out anything else about him. What if he was lying? Could he have been responsible for the explosion?
I agreed that it was worth looking into.
Next, I told them about Old Master Foo, and his disappoinment when his grandson didn’t get the translation job.
Pui licked his lips and cleared his throat. “Old Master Foo is friends with my grandfather,” he said. “They used to go boar hunting together. My brothers would sometimes go along too. They said he acts like a tyrant, always giving orders and expecting to be obeyed. But he doesn’t tolerate dishonourable behaviour.”
According to Pui, Old Master Foo was out boar hunting one day when he noticed some of the older servants bullying the younger ones by taking their equipment and pushing them into ditches, just to be mean and bully the younger servants because they were older.
Old Master Foo didn’t say anything. He went out of his way to share his equipment with the younger servants, and when they fell into the ditches he would rush over to help them get out.
Eventually the older servants got his message, and from that day on they were never unkind to the younger ones again.
“Well, that might be true,” I said, “but we can’t rule him out yet. He has a strong motive for getting Miss Priya out of the way.”
Aisha nodded. “We’re still missing some parts of the puzzle, though,” she said. “Nobody saw Miss Priya leave the hotel that morning. And her room was locked. Yet when the manager entered, she wasn’t in there. If the villain didn’t manage to get in and steal the book, then it’s probably still with Miss Priya.”
“But where can she be?” Pui asked as he licked his fingers. He seemed a bit irritated. Perhaps because he had finished his fried tapioca and now he had nothing else to eat.
“Constable Flint and his men are already searching for her,” I told them. “My parents are helping to inform all the village headmen across the island. It’s like looking for a needle in a stack of hay. But it’s all that we can do right now.”
We sat around for a while, feeling glum.
I wanted to tell them about that odd sound I kept hearing that day. The clanging that came from the wooden chests. Although it didn’t seem relevant at all.
Then I remembered, quite suddenly, another sound that puzzled me that day. The tapping and scraping in Miss Priya’s room.
CHAPTER 8
Aisha has a friend named Jayathri, who lives in a big house on a hill south of River Valley Road.
Notice that I introduced Jayathri as Aisha’s friend, not mine.
Jayathri doesn’t like me. She thinks I’m naughty and irresponsible for being expelled from boarding school. It’s pretty obvious that she hates it when Aisha spends time with me.
Anyway, I told Aisha and Pui that we had to see Jayathri as soon as possible.
Which meant, right away.
I remembered how Aisha once told me that Jayathri had an uncle who worked on ships. He owned a special set of flags which were used to send signals from one ship to another. He also taught Jayathri a way to communicate by making clicking sounds with your tongue, or tapping on the table with your fingernail.
We got to Jayathri’s house within twenty minutes. As I expected, she wasn’t pleased to see me.
“Do you know how late it is?” she grumbled. “Any decent person would be at home getting ready for bed.”
But Aisha told her about Miss Priya, and she agreed to hear me out.
“I heard a strange sound in Miss Priya’s room this morning,” I said. “I didn’t think much of it at first. But then I suspected that it could be a coded message.”
“What did it sound like?” Jayathri asked. “Do you remember?”
I kept still and cleared my thoughts until I could hear the sound again inside my head. Then I tapped slowly on the table and recreated the pattern as accurately as I could, over and over again. It’s a good thing I have a great memory.
As Jayathri listened, her eyes opened wide. She grabbed my shoulder so hard that it made me squirm.
“Is this another one of your silly pranks?” she shouted in my ear. “Are you trying to trick me into saying a bad word or something?”
“No!” I protested. “I really need your help to solve this!”
Pui just stood back and looked sheepish. I guess he was scared of Jayathri too.
“Is this the same code that your uncle once taught you?” Aisha asked Jayathri. “Can you tell us what it means?”
Jayathri released me. She shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe not. It doesn’t make any sense at all.”
I rubbed my shoulder and tried to sound as respectful as I could. “Please, Jayathri, I’m sorry if I offended you in any way. Could you just tell us what the code means? We really need your help with this”
Jayathri gave me a funny look and mumbled something.
It sounded like, “nam ho chi tao.”
Before we left, Jayathri wrote down the entire code for me. She explained that this was known as the Morse code, and that people around the world use it to send messages over long distances.
It was all dots and dashes.
You could send a message by using electric circuits to create buzzing sounds. A dot would be one quick buzz, while a dash would be three quick buzzes.
Or you could use flashes of light from a lamp. A dot would be one quick flash, and a dash would be a long flash.
You get the idea.
The person receiving the message just needed to record the dots and dashes, and later convert these into letters.
In my case, I wondered if each tap could be a dot, and each scrape could be a dash.
Jayathri wrote this down for me:
A • –
B – • • •
C – • – •
D – • •
E •
F • • –
G – – •
H • • • •
I • •
J • – – –
K – • –
L • – • •
M – –
N – •
O – – –
P • – – •
Q – – • –
R • – •
S • • •
T –
U • • –
V • • • –
W • – –
X – • • –
Y – • – –
Z – – • •
Nam ho chi tao!
I tried saying it in different ways, but still the phrase made no sense.
I went into my father’s study and asked if he knew what it meant.
He thought for a bit and then replied, “It’s definitely not English. In this region, the people speak over fifty different languages and dialects. Sorry, I would like to help, but it’s hard to tell.”
At that point, we heard a bell jangle out on the street. Pa went to his cabinet and pulled out a long grey coat.
“My friends are here,” he said as he put it on. “I’ll be back late tonight. Some thugs have gathered outside the Adelphi Hotel, and it seems like they might cause trouble. My friends and I offered to help Constable Flint watch the place.”
It sounded dangerous.
“Do you think this is related to Miss Priya’s kidnapping?�
�� I asked.
Pa looked grim. “Yes, but I don’t know how or why. And I hope we get the book back, before the Hanlin Academy finds out about this.”
CHAPTER 9
I knew my father could take care of himself, but still I was concerned.
That night, I couldn’t fall asleep. Not after hearing Pa say those words. So I took out Miss Priya’s book on Chinese sword fighting and continued reading.
King Guojian believed that once he learnt the Nameless Lady’s secrets, he would be able to create an invincible army.
Their first conversation was recorded by the court officials.
King Guojian: “People say you’re the greatest sword fighter in my kingdom. Explain your method.”
Nameless Lady of the Southern Forest: “In the Southern Forest, my father taught me to watch the sun cross the sky, and from this, I learnt to circle patiently around my opponent. I watched the tiger leap from the shadows, and from this, I learnt to surprise my opponent and strike swiftly. Finally, I watched my own reflection in the river, and from this, I learnt the power of shadows and illusions.”
At this moment, without warning, the woman snatched the sword of the soldier standing behind her. He did not have time to react.
King Guojian: “Such insolence! Have you forgotten where you are? Guards! Seize her!”
His soldiers drew their swords and rushed forward.
The woman wasn’t afraid. The sword in her hand fluttered left and right, blocking their attacks neatly and returning their blows.
Even more soldiers were summoned from the outer courtyard. In all, there must have been at least four hundred of them working together to overpower the woman who was fighting by herself.
Still she kept fighting.
Many soldiers were injured, but none were killed. Finally, they gave up.
The woman bowed to King Guojian and offered him her sword.
Nameless Lady of the Southern Forest: “My king, I call this the Art of the Honest Sword. If you think that I am worthy, please allow me to teach this to your soldiers.”