by Jeremy Han
He had followed her. She would lead him to the person he wanted to find. He observed her performance from the street corner to make sure no one else was watching her. He was not sure if she could recognise him, but until the time was appropriate, it was better she did not see him. As she moved around collecting the coins from the appreciative audience, he stayed away. Then when she started to walk, he followed. Soon, lights around the city were snuffed as the inhabitants went to sleep. It was the perfect time for him to trail her. He kept a discreet distance as he followed her, frequently making sure no one was following him. He needed to know where her home was; where her father would be. So he followed her into the warren of houses, following the twists and turns that she made, making sure that she did not detect him. He was skilful in this aspect.
She came to the end of the long corridor, and took a left turn toward another stretch of houses. There was a stream passing along the middle of it and if one looked carefully, there were fish in it. She walked along the stream, passed the house with a tall tree, all the while listening to the flowing water as it passed. She liked this place. In the day, she would wash her face with the cold water, catch some fish, and then her father would chide her and tell her that she was no longer a child.
He is always so serious. She thought. But she loved him. She was finally old enough to appreciate the hardships he went through bringing her up as a single father. Still, she did not really understand the circumstances that led to them becoming itinerant performers without a jia ‘a home’. When she was younger, she blamed her father for that. Now, she tried to be more understanding, to share his burden and win his praise. She crossed an intersection, and then entered into another long dark alley. There were bales of hay along the wall, and on the faded paint, someone had scribbled profanities a long time ago. She continued along, eager to get home to rest and more importantly, tell her father how much money she made that night. The performance had been exceptionally popular; many people came to watch the girl who could throw darts and daggers at all directions and hit all the targets. She subconsciously reached into her pocket and jingled the coins.
“My my, we have a rich girl all alone here.”
She looked up and saw a broad shadow emerged from the darkened doorway in front of her. Then another voice chuckled. Another silhouette rose from the bales of hay.
“No running away girl.” A voice came from behind her. She turned and saw by the moonlight, an ugly, sneering face. He had the swagger of a thug. They laughed as they approached her like hyenas cornering a helpless doe.
“A rich and pretty girl, my friends.” A second voice corrected the first, leading to another round of laughter.
“So what should we do first? Have some fun with her or rob her first?” The last thug asked in a high pitch, excited voice.
“Does it matter moron?” The first one, the leader said to the laughter of others.
Li Po was trapped. She thought of reaching for her darts, but her hands were shaking. They were unsteady because though she had trained from young, she had only hit melons and fruits. She had never thrown a dart or a dagger at a living being. By nature, she was gentle and had never wished she would use a dart on anyone. Would she be able to escape? Her mind calculated; if she hit the guys in front and ran, would the third catch her? Would she be able to lose them in the warren if she ran? What should she do? She only wanted to injure them enough to escape, what if she killed someone?
“Hey. Pick someone your own size guys.”
The thugs at the door turned to where the sound came from. Behind them, a small man approached. He was carrying a staff in a nonchalant way. His face was shielded from view by the straw hat that peasants wore.
“Oh…and who might it be little man? You?” The leader taunted.
The others joined his leader, “Get lost old man. You don’t look like you have money, and you are not a girl, so we have no interest in you. Go! We don’t want to hurt you. We are kinda busy now.” And the others laughed again.
The strange little man continued forward as though he did not hear the warnings from the trio. He even whistled.
“Seems like someone’s deaf. The only way to communicate with him is through the fist. Two of you deal with this nuisance while I make sure our little bird doesn’t fly away. Remember to get rid of the rubbish fast if you don’t want to miss the fun. I might just go for a second round!” the leader laughed then the rest followed,
“Don’t worry Boss. We ain’t gonna let you have all the fun alone.” The one who stood behind her said as he made his way forward. As he walked, he rowed his sleeve up menacingly.
The little man said, “Just two of you? Hey, come on, all three at once. That way you just might have a rare chance of success. Here, I’ll even the odds for you guys if you’ll come all at once. I don’t have all night, so I’ll appreciate it if we don’t waste time. Come on, all three now. I’ll even throw away my staff.” The weapon clattered as it fell to the floor. He slipped his hands into his pocket as though he was going for a stroll. The two thugs charged. Together they must have weighed at least thrice the small man’s weight. They threw out their fist with all the momentum that they could muster, aiming for the man’s head. The small man’s hands came up in a smooth and fluid way. It made contact with the two incoming fists and seemed to feel the speed and power of the blows before suddenly grabbing the two hands. He took a few steps backwards, flowing with the force then with a sudden move, his legs bent and his centre of gravity went down. Suddenly, he was as unmovable as a hundred-year oak, and with a powerful flick of his hands, he guided the momentum of the two charging men into the ground, causing them to lose their balance and fall hard with a heavy thud that echoed across the alley.
The third man forgot about the girl and attacked. He threw a punch which missed. Then he launched a series of punches and kicks in a manner that revealed some knowledge of martial arts. The small man turned his body fluidly to avoid the blows, at the same time, he moved forward. The incoming blows seemed to move passed his body the way water would around a rock in a stream. This way the small man moved into the inner defensive circle of the attacker and grabbed his wrist as it was launched. He turned his body so that he expertly guided the momentum in a circle, and the man lost his balance. Sensing the loss of control, the small man continued to guide the spinning gangster and manipulated this unstoppable force into the immovable wall, smashing him like a wave against a cliff. The thug groaned at his broken nose and saw stars. The small man turned at the sound of foot scrapping against the ground. One of the other thugs had recovered, and had drawn a knife. Instead of being alarmed, the small man laughed out loud at the pathetic weapon. “Yaaahhh.” Furious at being taken lightly, the thug lunged. The small man side-stepped and placed a hand on the wrist holding the knife. He jammed his leg into the forward knee of the attacker, and simultaneously yanked hard up with his hand. The body of the attacker was pulled forward while his knee collapsed inward painfully. His face smashed into the floor.
“Get lost now all of you. I told you already, go pick someone your size.” The small man said as they fumbled away. Then he turned to the trembling girl; she cringed as she could not see his face. “Li Po, are you alright?” Her face brightened at the familiar voice. “Uncle Farmer! It’s you!” She reached forward and grabbed his hand; he pulled her up. “Yes it’s me. Are you going home?”
“Yes! Father is at home.”
“Take me with you. I have an urgent matter to discuss with him.”
Less than an hour later, the Farmer Fu Zhen sat in a small hut at the edge of the town, the abode tucked away inconspicuously. They sat around a small wooden table big enough only for two people. There was a small re-used tallow candle burning to provide some illumination in the dark room. Li Po went to the kitchen to sit while the two seniors spoke. She had to wait till they finished before she could sleep because the living area where her father entertained his guest was the place she would lay her mattress. The man, kno
wn as ‘the Acrobat’, poured wine into a small cup and toasted his old friend.
“Lai. ‘Come.’ To the reunion of old comrades.” They drank. “What do you wish to see me about?” The Acrobat asked the Farmer.
“We may have a chance to escape finally.” And then the Farmer recounted the whole episode with Chamberlain Wen. Then he told him how the other comrades responded, how they scolded the eunuch and left when he did not divulge the secret of leaving the empire. The Acrobat listened intently, nodding his head once in awhile to show his understanding. When the Farmer finished, he asked the Acrobat, “What do you think?”
“Commander Zhao asked you to seek me out and join the mission?”
“Yes. Would you?”
He sighed deeply. The Farmer took it as a bad sign. The Acrobat remained silent. Then he said, “Yes I would.”
“Aren’t you worried that Wen did not reveal the plan? Some of our brothers rejected the plan because Wen did not tell us. They felt it was unfair to risk so much without any certainty of success.”
“Fu Zhen, every day we are at risk. When we performed our last act of loyalty, we had accepted that one day we will die by the sword of Yong Le, but what about our next generation? I don’t want my children to pay for our deeds. Yes, for my daughter, I would do anything. I would do anything to give her a chance to lead a normal life, not one of a hunted criminal. You know Yong Le won’t spare her if we are caught. Never mind she was born after the act.” He waved a hand to indicate the unjustness of the situation.
The Acrobat was referring to Yong Le’s famous crime of executing his enemies down to the ninth generation. The greatest outrage was the execution of his teacher Fan Xiaoru, who rejected proclaiming Yong Le as emperor. Instead, he publicly condemned the usurper as immoral. The reigning emperor responded by executing his entire clan and all the students the grand scholar had taught before. In Confucian society, a teacher was regarded as a father, and classmates and peers like brothers. Yong Le had studied under Fan before, so his act was deemed as evil as killing one’s own father and brothers. There would be no mercy from the emperor or the Eastern Depot. Even the emperor’s own father and mother would die if they were involved.
The Farmer asked his friend, “Aren’t you afraid Wen would betray us?”
“I trust him and Zhao Qi. And you.” He tapped the Farmer’s arm. “If I cannot even trust the words of my comrades, who would I trust? It’s time Farmer, time for us to leave this damn place and live a proper life. We committed no wrong; we should not live like criminals. Our children should be proud of us, not afraid because of us. Let us go to this land where we would be free.”After a pause, the Acrobat continued,
“You and I are old now my friend. It is for my daughter that I think for. She deserves a future. She should not be made to pay for my actions.”
The Farmer beamed. He clapped his old friend on the arm. “Haoxiongdi!” ‘Good comrade’. “Zhao would be pleased. With you, our chances of success had grown. He lifted his finger to count, “Me, you, Zhao Qi. Three of us. Not many, but it’s better than just Zhao and me!”
The Acrobat lifted a cup, “To freedom. And to future.”
The next morning, while it was still dark, three people stood outside the hut that had been the home for the Acrobat and his daughter for the last few years. Besides the rows of garlic, corn and chillies that hung out to dry, there was nothing that indicated any life there. The Farmer looked on while father and daughter made preparations to leave. He stood silently, straw hat over his face and staff in his hand. Li Po adjusted her vest; the one specially made to conceal her darts and daggers while her father packed his weapons. There were several spears and guan daos.
The Farmer spoke, “Why are you carrying so many weapons? It is going to weigh us down.”
“These are replicas used in street performances. They will be our disguise. It is easier to hide a real weapon among the false.” He took out a guan dao with its staff shortened, and its rear end was sharpened. “This is the real one. The rest are blunt.”
The guan dao was a long weapon like a spear, except that its head was heavier and longer, resembling a sabre. It was sharp and had a single cutting edge. It was primarily a cavalry weapon for thrusting and slashing. In skilful hands, it could do untold damage. It was also the weapon of the legendary Guan Yu, the general from the Three Kingdoms period. Opera plays often feature the popular general wielding this weapon as a symbol of the righteous.
The Farmer smiled, “Yes…your famous guan dao.”
Li Po went into the house and collected another bag with some cold buns from last night and some roasted corn. It was enough for perhaps a day. The rest they will purchase as they went along. They had some money. The Acrobat nodded his head at his daughter as she approached him. He took her hand gently and spoke to her in a tender way, the way he sang lullabies to her when she was little and would cry each night missing her mother. It was hard being a single father to a child whose natural yearning was for the mother. “Are you alright my daughter?”
He looked into her eyes. Her tearful eyes reflected his sadness. He touched her cheek without thinking, the way he did since she was a baby. He knew how she was feeling; every father knew their children.
“Yes Father.”She said that despite her sorrow at leaving again. She hated the nomadic life. Each time they moved, she cried and asked him the same question,
Why can’t we stay?
As she got older, she stopped asking. Though her father never told her the real reason, she knew it must be important enough. He mentioned something about being followed before but never the complete story. But she trusted her father; he was the man who brought her up through thick and thin. She had no one else. He had never let her down and would never do so. This time, he swore he would succeed. And they would be free. He had yearned for this day, and it had come. He would make sure that everything: their pain, their longing, their risk, would not be in vain. Freedom from fear, deliverance from enemies and a future for his daughter, it would be worth the danger. He turned to his friend.
“Let us go now.”
And they left. None turned their head to look back. Behind them, the sun started to rise. It was a new day.
FOURTEEN
In his mind’s eye, he remembered the shivering boy. Cold and wet, he stood outside the room waiting for permission to be dismissed so that he could go wherever servants went to take shelter, but none were given. Water streaked down from his soaked hair and stung his eyes. His body shook, and he wrapped his arms around to warm himself but it was no use. Lightning streaked across the sky followed by a clap of thunder so loud that his ears ached. He thought that even the skies were scolding him. He lifted a shivering hand and wiped away the tears that were indistinguishable from the rain water. Even his shoes were soaked in the layer of water that covered the floor. Inadvertently, his thoughts went to his homeland and his parents. Part of him could not accept that his father and mother were dead, and he enslaved. He still believed that he could suddenly wake up and step off his bed into his familiar world. It was a place of wild freedom in the mountains where one could run and try to touch the sky. But here he was, freezing in the rain, without even the autonomy to decide something so basically human as to be dry. He shivered from the emotions wrecking him from inside.
The fourteen year old boy was a new recruit in the palace. Recently made into a eunuch after his family rebelled against the Ming, he was abducted, castrated and threw mercilessly into a new existence as a ‘half-man’. His body still ached from the cruel act. The humiliation, the pain, the strange surroundings and the loss of his family made it too hard to bear. And now, he was left outside in the cold, blinding rain. If he took a step into the shelter, he would be beaten. If he remained where he was, he was afraid he would catch a cold or fall ill with a fever. If he fell sick, it would be worse because he would still be expected to work. If he died, no one cared.
Originally from Yunnan, the boy was the son of a local ru
ler who supported the Yuan. When the Mongols fell, Ming forces swept across the country and crushed Yuan supporters one by one to consolidate its rule across the empire. His clan were Muslims and had always felt like outsiders in the empire. Isolated in the Yunnan province, they were almost autonomous until the Ming forces arrived and subjugated them. The adults were killed and the young were seized for a life of servitude. This would be his fate until the day he died. He thought that the day might not be too far away as he stood in the rain.
“Look! Uncle Wen, there’s someone in the rain. Why doesn’t he come in?”
The teenage boy turned at the voice. He saw a little boy about the age of four with a middle-aged man standing at the opposite building as they headed towards the pavilion with the red tiled roof. He remembered seeing them before at the pavilion, the older one coached while the younger one learned.
“Ask him to come now.” The little boy said.
“Highness, he is being punished. See, the head eunuch left him at the gate to contemplate his mistakes. It is best not to interfere.”