The Sword Dancer

by Jeanne Lin

  ‘What did they do that was so wrong?’ she asked, dreading the answer.

  ‘Nothing.’ Liu Yuan laughed and the sound was awful in the night. ‘Nothing, Little Sister.’

  The story came out in a flood. Mother was a dancer. Father was a musician. They travelled together with a troupe of performers who were like family. The band would move from city to city throughout the province, making enough to survive at each stop. It was a carefree existence.

  ‘Then we came to Minzhou,’ Liu Yuan explained. ‘There was a special performance for the Full Moon festival. It was a great success and everyone was so happy. Father brought us moon cakes.’

  ‘How old were we?’ she asked.

  ‘I was eight at the time. You couldn’t have been more than four.’

  She had been half his age. He would remember the events clearer than she did, though still through the eyes of a child. Liu Yuan was the key to everything she’d been searching for.

  ‘There was to be another performance the next night. A private one.’ At that, his jaw tightened. ‘The prefect had taken a liking to our mother and it was impossible to deny such an important official such a simple request.’

  She tensed as if preparing for a physical blow. ‘What happened then?’

  ‘Father and Mother went to the prefect’s mansion with several other members of the troupe. No one is certain what happened, but after the performance there was a dispute. I was later told…’ He paused, gathering his breath. ‘Much later, I was told by the troupe master that Guan He propositioned Mother after the performance. He tried to drag her into a chamber where they would be alone.’

  ‘She fought him.’

  ‘Of course she did!’ Liu Yuan said vehemently. ‘Our father saw them and struck the prefect. A blow to the head. There was blood everywhere, they said. He nearly killed that bastard.’

  Li Feng dug her nails into her palms. She didn’t need to ask what happened then. The court would think little of the prefect attempting to violate her mother, but the crime of striking an official, committed by someone of such low birth, had to be punished.

  ‘I wasn’t allowed to watch when they executed Father.’ For the first time his voice broke. ‘The ykilled him like a dog in the street.’

  He took another draught and hid his eyes from her. She drank as well. The burn of the liquor down her throat covered up a pain that was sharper and deeper.

  The rest of her brother’s story was full of a seething anger. Liu Yuan stayed with the troupe. The first time he tried to leave, he was caught stealing, but was young enough that the authorities had sentenced a beating with the light rod before returning him to the troupe leader. He grew older, stronger and angrier before he left again. When he was caught this time, the beating was with a heavy rod and they’d inked a tattoo on to his hand so honest men would know not to trust him.

  ‘I learned how to use the knife out of necessity,’ he told her. ‘And turned to banditry because there was nothing left to lose. They had already marked me as such.’

  He held up the back of his right hand to her. A black character had been etched near his thumb.

  ‘Thief,’ he read aloud. ‘Such a mark ensures that I can never walk among honest society. I knew this life would kill me or teach me to kill. One or the other, I didn’t care.’

  ‘Liu Yuan,’ she murmured softly.

  Her heart ached for him. She wished she could offer some comfort. Her life had been easy in comparison. Shifu hadn’t treated her with the warmth and affection of a parent, but he’d been caring and patient and tried to teach her in his own way. He had taught her how to channel her restlessness into the study of the sword.

  ‘I was sentenced to labour once, building ships on the coast. But wherever they sent me, I always knew I had to return to this place. I had left something unfinished in Minzhou.’

  ‘I feel the same way, Brother,’ she said in a near whisper.

  His sentiment echoed the emptiness that Li Feng had felt in her own soul.

  ‘I never knew what happened to you or Mother,’ he said after a long pause. ‘There was no way to find you.’

  ‘They caught her as well.’ She couldn’t say more. Her throat had closed up.

  The finality of what had happened shook them both. Li Feng finally had her answers. Her father was dead, executed for crimes committed. Mother was gone as well.

  ‘They said Father fought when they arrested him,’ her brother continued. ‘He cursed the magistrate and the prefect at the trial. He was unrepentant. His spirit is still here, Little Sister.’

  The thought of Father’s spirit wandering the city as a hungry ghost chilled her. She’d been neglectful as a daughter. ‘We’ll set up an altar and light incense to send him our prayers.’

  Her words didn’t seem to reach her brother.

  ‘You carry a sword.’ Her sleeve had fallen away and Liu Yuan stared at the hilt of the weapon. ‘Do you know how to use it?’

  ‘Yes.’ She pulled her sleeve back and rearranged it carefully to cover up the sword. A sense of unease stirred inside her. ‘I know how to use it.’

  ‘Mother was a dancer and our father played beautiful music. Now look at us. Funny, isn’t it?’

  Despite his words, there was no amusement in his tone.

  ‘You killed the steward,’ she said, her stomach turning.

  ‘With my very own hands,’ he replied with cold pride.

  ‘But he was innocent.’

  ‘Innocent?’ His mouth twisted. ‘Cai Yun was the one who came to the troupe leader bearing gifts to show off his master’s wealth. He demanded a private performance.’

  Gifts. She pulled the jade from her sash and showed it to Liu Yuan. ‘Mother gave this to me before they took her.’

  Liu Yuan stared at the jade, but would not touch it. ‘That scoundrel brought that to our mother. “My master is a great admirer,” he said. Like a damned procurer for a brothel. I don’t know why she kept it.’

  A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. To wealthy pleasure-seekers, dancers and entertainers were little more than prostitutes.

  Only now did Li Feng make sense of these fragments of her memory. Mother had tried to sell the jade. She had tried to go to shopkeepers and even begged on the street for someone to buy it from her. She was desperate for the money, but no one would take the jade. It was too fine, too expensive.

  Why had her mother given the jade to her, then? Was it to provide for her the only way she could? Li Feng had held on to the pendant for so long. She had traced the lines of the carving and held the stone close to her until it became warm against her skin.

  Jade changed over time, as it took in the essence of its wearer. For the first time, she noticed there was a thin vein of red along the bird’s wing as if it had been wounded. Even this reminder of her mother was now tainted.

  ‘They owe us blood, Li Feng.’ The words rang eerily, surrounded by darkness and the lonely flicker of the candle. ‘They owe us blood. They owe us blood.’

  With each repetition, Liu Yuan’s voice grew stronger. The darkness of the cave became heavy around her until it seemed once again she was in that tiny hole in the rock, suffocating with dread.

  They’d both been children, helpless and unable to do anything, but Liu Yuan had the burden of being the eldest son. The responsibility for taking care of their parents fell to him, in body once they grew old and frail, and in spirit once they had passed on to join their ancestors. But Father and Mother would never grow old.

  For him, blood was the only way. How else could he ever atone for a line that was broken? For lives that were wrongfully cut short?

  Part of her rebelled. She wasn’t the same as her brother. Liu Yuan was a man of violence. He killed his enemies. He cut their throats and left them lying in the street. She remembered the fear and the loss of being abandoned, but she also knew that life was both pain and happiness, that the world was light and dark and opposing forces. These were the teachings of Wen shifu. This was the Tao
.

  But what enlightenment the teachings provided her at this moment of darkness was no more than the flicker of a candle.

  ‘Revenge would mean your death as well,’ she said, trying to remain calm.

  ‘But we’re already dead, aren’t we, Little Sister?’

  His eyes were black and empty. The search for her past had consumed her, but now she had been reunited with her brother, the only family she had. Finding him should have brought them both happiness. Instead she was rendered as cold and dark inside as he was.

  Chapter Twelve

  Han was up with the sun the next morning, ready to search for Li Feng for the rest of the day if needed. He shouldn’t have been so worried. He found her a few streets away, walking down the street and absently browsing the morning market stalls.

  The grey robes of the Taoist priestess were gone, traded for a cotton robe dyed in the warm colours of a spring peach. The skirt was shortened, falling just past her knees. Her hair was pinned carelessly and she was turned away from him, but he still recognised her. The sight of her locked into him as it always did.

  He could sense her through distance, through crowds. He didn’t need to see her face or hear her voice. He was aware of her beyond sight and sound. Han would have liked to boast that it had something to do with superior thief-catching instincts, but it was nothing like that. He was always finding her because every part of him was always searching for her.

  She turned and saw him. They met in the middle of the street while the crowd flowed by on either side of them.

  ‘Li Feng,’ he greeted.

  ‘Hao Han.’

  ‘I was looking for you.’

  ‘I was looking for you too…for once.’ Her faint smile was for her own benefit, not his.

  He should have been relieved that she hadn’t once again disappeared, but the tightness in his chest remained. One day he would no longer be able to find her. She would be lost to him for ever and the thought of it left him gutted.

  ‘What…’ He paused, looking at the dark circles under her eyes. Her ivory complexion was as pale as milk. ‘What happened?’

  She didn’t answer, but her expression appeared haunted. Searching amongst the food stalls, Han selected one with benches where they could sit and settled in opposite her, folding his legs beside the low table. Li Feng watched listlessly as a steaming bowl of chicken and ginger soup was set before her.

  Usually Li Feng was a joy to watch. There was a perpetual fire in her eyes and she was like a hummingbird, never holding still. This morning, her usual spirited manner was locked away. Something had changed.

  ‘I went to the prefect’s residence last night,’ she confessed. She spooned some of the soup into her mouth, her colour returning a little as she ate.

  ‘What were you hoping to find?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, her tone sharpening. ‘I didn’t go inside.’

  Li Feng spooned soup into her mouth. For a while, he just watched her.

  ‘Not hungry?’ she murmured, seeing how he hadn’t touched his food.

  He’d been stalling, trying to work out the best way to tell her what he’d learned. ‘I never asked you what you planned to do after you found what happened to your family,’ he said, still stalling.

  She regarded him for a long time before answering, ‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought of it.’

  The search had consumed her. It was the reason behind everything she’d done, right or wrong. Han knew how a single goal could consume a person. He had investigated and searched for Two Dragon Lo for months, convinced that the bandit was growing more dangerous with each passing day and needed to be stopped. By the end of it, he couldn’t remember when he’d become so intent on hunting Lo down. He was also left without any purpose once the bandit was dead.

  ‘You’ve discovered something about my mother,’ she realised, looking deep into his eyes. ‘Something about me.’

  ‘There was a case in the city fifteen years ago involving a musician.’

  Her expression was unreadable. ‘Go on.’

  This was about Li Feng’s family and her past. He had no right to keep it from her.

  ‘Prefect Guan was hosting a banquet at his residence and hired several performers,’ he began. ‘The musician and his wife were caught in the house, attempting to steal. Guan He discovered them and the husband attacked him. The prefect was struck repeatedly, but that wasn’t the worst of it. A servant came to the prefect’s defence and was left dead in the courtyard, bleeding from a wound to the head.’

  Li Feng’s mouth pulled tight, but she said nothing, waiting for his report to continue. He had always known she was strong, but there was something unnatural in her silence. They were surrounded by the clatter of dishes and the conversations of the other customers. Han wished he had waited until they were alone to tell her everything.

  ‘After the musician was arrested, he wouldn’t confess to the theft, but he did take responsibility for the servant’s death, claiming it was an accident.’

  ‘Admitting his guilt,’ she said.

  ‘I’m sorry, Li Feng.’

  Her face remained blank of emotion, though her hands were folded in front of her. He could see the struggle within her as she clasped them tight.

  ‘Do you believe all of that?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what I believe. This is what was recorded.’

  He was trying hard to be impassive, even continuing to speak of the man and his wife as if they weren’t Li Feng’s father and mother. But it was impossible to remain detached. His own father had always insisted on objectivity, but Han wasn’t like his father.

  ‘You don’t need to soften the blow. Tell me everything.’ Her demeanour remained too calm for all that she had heard.

  There was no easy way to say it. ‘The musician was executed for the death of the servant and for striking a government official.’

  ‘What of his wife?’ Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke. For the first time during the conversation, a sliver of emotion pierced her armour.

  ‘She fled the city and was later captured. The casebook records that she was sentenced to death and allowed to commit suicide.’

  A small tremor moved along her jaw, but she bit down against it. Despite the public setting, Han reached for her, but Li Feng rose to stand. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin proudly.

  ‘Whatever that report may say, my father and mother were not thieves,’ she insisted. ‘They weren’t sentenced because they tried to rob the prefect. They were executed because they dared to disobey.’

  With that, she pushed out into the street, weaving with a dancer’s grace and strength through the crowd. Pedestrians were left staring at this girl who dared to move with such audacity.

  Han chased after her, but Li Feng broke away from the street to climb on to the bridge that spanned the main canal. She gripped the wooden rail with one hand and in the next breath she was up and over, disappearing over the side. Cursing, Han ran to the bridge to see that she’d landed safely down below. He climbed on to the rail and dropped on to the embankment beside her.

  Unimpressed by his dramatic manoeuvre, she turned away and headed towards the bridge. He caught her by the arm to swing her around, then immediately regretted his forcefulness when her eyes flashed fire at him.

  ‘I know this must be difficult for you. This is a great tragedy.’ He struggled to find the right words, but his tongue was thick in his mouth, his words stiff and stilted.

  ‘We are finished, you and I.’ In contrast, Li Feng’s words lashed out with all the emotion she’d tried so hard to keep hidden.

  ‘We’re not finished. Far from it.’

  He followed her as she strode beneath the arch of the bridge. They were enclosed in a cool, mossy darkness away from the noise of the city.

  ‘I know what you want,’ he began.

  ‘You don’t know anything.’ She kept on walking and refused to face him.

  ‘You wa
nt what anyone would want. To set things right.’

  Li Feng did turn on him then. ‘None of this means anything to you,’ she accused, her voice trembling. ‘My mother and father broke the law and they were punished. Justice was served.’

  ‘That isn’t what I think—’

  ‘You would never understand,’ she went on vehemently. ‘The meaning of family. Of loyalty.’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re speaking of, Li Feng.’

  His voice barely rose, but his face flushed hot with anger. She had gone too far. He knew about the importance of family. He’d sacrificed everything for his.

  ‘Your family is alive, yet you’ve turned away from them. You’ve chosen to be alone.’

  He froze beneath her onslaught, but this wasn’t about his family or his loss. It was about hers.

  ‘Li Feng, don’t run away. Just—just stay for once.’ He was angry at her, angry for her. He didn’t know any more.

  ‘I know who you are, Zheng Hao Han,’ she challenged. ‘You believe in upholding the law, yet you’ve taken a liking to me. So you’ve told yourself I must be innocent, because how could Thief-catcher Han ever befriend a common criminal?’

  He could feel her slipping away as she pulled out of the shadows and back into the sunlight.

  ‘But I’m not innocent,’ she declared. ‘Don’t follow me any more. We go our separate ways from here, Han. This is the way it has to be and you know it.’

  * * *

  Han trailed Li Feng at a distance, always keeping her in sight. Usually Li Feng moved with efficiency and grace, but today even the way she carried herself was unbalanced and off-centre. She wandered the streets for a while, as if lost, before leaving the city through the main gate.

  When she strayed from the road, his instincts told him to turn back. Family was a deep and private matter and she was mourning for something that had been taken away from her fifteen years ago. But he couldn’t leave her to feel such pain alone. At some point she would slow down and they could talk.