The Emperor's Prey

by Jeremy Han

  Other Books by Jeremy Han

  The Prisoners of Fate – Part two of The Emperor’s Prey

  1435

  Ming China

  Fifteen years after his escape from his uncle’s assassins, the emperor-monk Jian Wen finds the man who hunted him at his door. The imperial assassin Ji Gang appears with a strange request and a secret that is so compelling the monk has to accede.

  The eight year old Zheng Tong Emperor ascends the throne amidst strange happenings: A crown prince who died thirty three years ago reportedly returns for vengeance. Famous generals are murdered mysteriously by a woman with many hands. Is she human or spirit? And why is she targeting the empire’s greatest military commanders?

  Ex-imperial bodyguards Zhao Qi and his comrade Li Jing, the Acrobat are faced with a moral dilemma. When their foe Ji Gang reveals his suspicions regarding the appearance of the ‘crown prince from hell’, they know it is linked to a mission thirty-three years ago. But is Ji Gang telling the truth or is he manipulating them for his own ends?

  Meanwhile an invisible hand pulls all these seemingly unrelated events into a climax that defies imagination.

  A sequel to The Emperor’s Prey, The Prisoners of Fate is a story of how far one could go for loyalty, duty and love.

  1

  1435

  Thirty-three years later

  Reign of the Zheng Tong Emperor

  Eastern Ming

  The commanding general of the prosperous city of Hangzhou strode into his villa with his characteristically big, confident strides. Sentries and servants bowed to welcome their strutting master. The day had ended, and it was now time for leisure. His manservant took off his armour carefully, handling each piece of the ceremonial outfit carefully so that he would not incur the general’s wrath. He would polish it later so that the general would look impressive again for the parade tomorrow. Serving the warrior for years, he knew the man’s quirks and temper. For all his faults, the commander was a diligent officer who drilled his men hard. Despite the peace in the country, he did not slack in keeping his men on their toes. The last thing the servant wanted was to endure a thrashing for not taking care of the carefully crafted, star-shaped studded cuirass and the hand-lacquered helmet. He heard it was bestowed by the previous emperor. His boss expected every metal stud to shine like a star at night.

  “Master, your bath is ready.”

  The man grunted in reply. His mind was far away. The servant left the room quietly after carefully hanging up the armour on a specially designed T-frame. He heard a splash, and knew that his boss had started to bathe. He started to polish the armour, hoping to finish as much as he could before his master summoned.

  “Chen!”

  “Yes, Lord?”

  “Dress me.” He snapped at the old servant, “Hurry!”

  The general stood naked as water dripped off his scarred, muscled body. A bright whitish line of healed tissue stretched across his back, stark across his tanned skin; it was a wound delivered by a downward slashing Mongol sabre delivered from horseback many years ago. The servant dressed him in a fine sky blue silk tunic, and then combed his long hair; he noticed there were streaks of white amidst the black. He remembered it used to be all black, and it mirrored the years he had followed the man. The general had fought several wars before being promoted by the War Ministry to head the command at the prosperous city famed for its scenery, Longjing ‘dragon’s well’ tea and beautiful women. The city was built around a lake, known as Xihu ‘West Lake’; it was the imperial retreat for countless emperors, including the Ming ones. Islets dot the tranquil lake with picturesque pagodas and pavilions on them. The emperor had finally rewarded the general for his efforts after a major battle. The servant could still remember the joy the posting had brought to his master. However, the hardened officer had not rested on his laurels. He toured the military districts regularly, trained soldiers and punished the errant. He did not take the peace for granted.

  But tonight, he seemed happy. The master had an appointment, so he would not be having dinner at home, to the disappointment of his middle-aged wife. After Old Chen had dressed the general, combed his hair and dabbed fragrance of musk, he went out to prepare the carriage that would take his master to town. The servant did not know where the final destination was because his master was secretive about it. His master boarded the vehicle and the tapped the partition impatiently to signal the driver to go. The servant waited until the carriage had gone before he went back into the house, carefully shutting the gate for the night.

  The carriage arrived at a house of pleasure situated by the lake. Even from a distance, he could hear the sounds of merry-making. Faint laughter and music floated across the quiet lake and got louder as he approached. Tea houses, restaurants and high-end brothels lined the shore, their bright lanterns casting a rainbow on the still, black water. The general entered his favourite establishment through a discreet entrance, where the proprietor waited for her esteemed guest. Instead of a grand entrance flanked by a bevy of women, he passed under two ordinary looking red lanterns. He could hear the revelry going on in the dance hall – singing, dancing, drunken laughter and feminine voices. He was a man of status and did not want to be recognised. They followed a long corridor that was dimly lit. The floor was covered by dark wood planks and the long wall had niches carved into it; scented candles burned in the niches, casting the path in a soft, orange glow. The whole place was designed to facilitate seduction and lead wealthy, powerful men to sin against their wives.

  He followed the proprietor, a former courtesan herself, to the third floor via another private stairway to a private suite specially arranged for men like him. Some men whored openly, some liked to keep their reputations intact.

  “Here we are, Sir.” The madame opened the door, pushed a thick, red curtain aside and led him into a richly decorated room. A marble table sat in the middle. An exquisite, handmade silk lantern artfully placed on the table illuminated the room. A flask of wine and two cups made of the best porcelain were set. To the side, an elaborately carved rosewood bed with silk curtains and soft cushions waited.

  “Please wait. Your companion will come soon. Have a cup of wine.” She poured and gestured for him to drink. He lifted the cup to his lips and downed it in one manly gulp.

  “Excellent wine.” He smiled lustfully at her. She nodded gracefully at the comment. She was still beautiful despite being in her forties. She must have been a star when she was younger and in the game. He wanted to touch her, but restraint himself because he was a man of dignity. As he waited, he drank another cup. Immediately he could feel the effect of the alcohol. He laughed softly as he went into a high. He felt light, almost as though he was floating. He loved the wine they served because it would enhance his sexual experiences later beyond human imagination. Besides the taste of plum, he thought there was something else, something richer. He knew there was something added to it to make him feel ecstatic, but he did not mind. The madame smiled as her client leaned back into his chair. It was time for her to go. She got up, and bowed. Before she left the room, she blew out the candle and let the room fall into darkness except for a red lamp in the corner of the room. The general could hear the gentle, receding footsteps of the madame as she exited the chamber. He took a deep breath as his arousal stirred. As he waited, he downed two more cups of the exquisite wine. He leaned back into the chair, and his mind wallowed in anticipation of carnal pleasures.

  A soft knock. Once. Then the door opened. He breathed deeply as he turned. Straight, black hair framed her angular face. In the dark, he found her even more attractive. Her perfume reached out and drew him in like a spell. She was his type – slim, fair-skinned with long, flowing hair that covered the face partially, adding to the mystery. She entered the room and bowed at the general. She wore a pink satin dress with flowers painted on it. She walked with grace, and her etiquette reflected her training. She befitted his status, and he beamed.

  “What is your name?” He sl
urred slightly, breath heavy with alcohol.

  “My name is Yin. Master, can I pour you a cup of wine?” She offered him the cup even before he could refuse. He drank it in one gulp. His head started to spin a little. He was a good drinker, but tonight the wine seemed a little too strong. They made small talk as she plied him with more alcohol, for it was un-gentlemanly to proceed straight to sex. She was not a mere whore to be used for crass pleasure; she was a delicacy to be savoured slowly.

  I am a cultured man.

  Then as the wine took effect, he moved closer. His inhibitions were gone, helped by her hand that snaked across his thigh and slipped between his legs. It was an invitation. She stroked him skilfully and he moaned. His own hand now moved over toward her crotch, anticipating the soft flatness but….it was stopped by a grip so strong it hurt!

  He was a hardened warrior, but the sudden, clamping movement caught him by surprise and he yelped like a man whose hand was trapped in a vice. An unmistakable, cold, male laughter broke the steamy atmosphere in the room. Low and animal-like in its intensity, it froze his blood. Before he could react, palms hard as iron plates struck his chest in a lightning fast left-right movement. He slammed against the wall and fell. He got up fast, but lost his balance, toppling the marble table and smashing the delicate porcelain. The world spun. His vision started to blur, as he tried to keep his balance. His heart pounded and the sound thundered in his ears. The wine! She moved her hands; they seemed to dance like snakes, and it revealed her true nature.

  So many hands….!

  “YAO NṺ! ‘DEMONESS’!” He screamed! He tried to reach for his sword, his constant companion all these years, but could not find it – he did not bring it with him to the brothel.

  I must be going mad! She had more than one pair of hands. He had seen cave murals before of a female demon with many hands. Now, one had come for him. Before he could react, the demoness was in front of him. She clamped his throat with surprising strength and struck him many times with blurred hands. A manly roar emanated from the demoness’ throat as she smashed the dazed general’s head against the wall resulting in a loud crack. Blood splattered. The general tried to fight back, but all he saw was a red haze. He had fought numerous wars and survived them; even in his drunken state, he would not die helpless. He shouted and struck with his powerful fists, but she was no longer there. He lashed out again and she intercepted it easily. He was shocked at the amount of strength that could come out of such a petite frame. Then she twisted his wrist with unbelievable speed.

  Snaaaap.

  He howled. Her eyes opened wide in fury, another manly scream raged from the mouth that had seemed so inviting earlier, as another hand struck the general’s eyes with blinding speed. He screamed in high-pitched fear as the world suddenly went black. He was truly afraid now. His bladder gave. Fear seized him, and he tried to run blind.

  Craaaaaak!

  He felt a sharp, lightning streak of pain burst from his knee when her kick connected and he collapsed. He yelled in blind fear as he felt his head pulled backward to expose his throat. It was inevitable.

  It ended with a wet, slashing sound. He gurgled and choked on his own blood, not able to see the dishevelled creature that stood over his body, waiting for him to die. He twitched violently, as though the nervous system could not accept the brutal fact. Dark blood pumped out of his severed throat and sullied the immaculate room. The smell of iron overwhelmed the perfume and incense. Finally he stopped moving. Yin admired ‘her’ work. The victim’s eyes were gorged out cleanly, and were somewhere on the floor. His knee rested at an impossible angle. His wrist bone jutted out. The throat slashed from ear to ear. ‘She’ opened the window of the room on the third floor and leapt off the ledge into the darkness, rocking the night with manic laughter.

  Swords of Freedom

  (A Wing Chun Story)

  1900 AD

  The might of the combined armies of the Eight Nation Alliance converge upon Beijing during the Boxer Rebellion. As they approach the Forbidden City in fury, a murder is committed.

  1907 AD

  The Guangxu Emperor discovers who murdered the love of his life. If he could avenge his lover, he will do anything, including betraying his clan.

  The Chinese revolution falters. Sun Yat-sen, leader of the rebellion realizes the painful truth – unless he does something drastic, the dream of freedom for millions of Chinese will be crushed under the cruel heel of the Qing Dynasty. He must do the unthinkable.

  1908 AD

  A team of assassins gathers for an impossible mission. The imperial court unleashes its hounds to hunt for its enemies. A daring mission is conceived and executed. The fate of an empire will be decided.

  And the Empress Dowager Cixi must die.

  Prologue

  15 August 1900 AD

  The Forbidden City, Beijing

  During the Boxer’s Rebellion

  The cacophony of cannon fire rolled over the vast palace compound like thunder, causing the frightened girl to shudder and close her eyes for a moment. Her captors froze for a moment like her before regaining their sense of purpose. They tightened their grip over her soft arm and dragged her forward to her fate. She winced in pain, but her soft cry was drowned out by the man-made thunder above. The men held her so high that her feet could almost not touch the ground.

  They struggled with their unwilling charge through the frenzied crowd. Going against the flow, they were almost knocked over by frantic servants and soldiers as they tried to force their way to an obscure well at the far end of the palatial complex that held nine-thousand, nine-hundred, and ninety-nine rooms. Another explosion rocked the ground, followed by a chain of smaller explosions that sounded like the fire crackers they were so fond of releasing during the Lunar New Year to ward off bad luck. But this series of ear-splitting pops were not as benign, for they signaled the closeness of the enemy’s infantry. Men were shouting ceaselessly, even as a troop of soldiers dashed past the beautifully dressed girl held tightly by the two eunuchs, and followed by a huge man with a heavy saber strapped across his back.

  Her nervous eyes followed the passage of the darting soldiers before turning back to those who were responsible for her predicament. The fact that she was being dragged in the opposite direction of safety increased her fear of her impending fate. She begged once more to the eunuch on her left, her voice raised high with fear.

  “Eunuch Wang, please! Please don’t do this! Are we not good friends? I have never ill-treated you, have I?”

  She could see the eunuch’s open distress. “Zhenfei, forgive me,” he said. “I know you have been kind to me. Oh…may Heaven forgive me for this heinous deed!” Tears rolled off his cheeks. Hysterically, she turned to the other eunuch on her right.

  “Eunuch Jin, remember the time your mother was sick, and I got medicine from the imperial clinic for her? Spare my life on account of that, I beg you!”

  Eunuch Jin, already crying loudly, shook his head vigorously after looking into his mistress’s wide opened eyes. Even in the dark he could see the whites of her eyes blazing at him, but he shook his head again, wailing with grief. The man who was following them merely smiled at the exchange between the two eunuchs and the doomed concubine. She was the favorite of the Guangxu Emperor, who was now fleeing the imperial palace from the onslaught of the eight-power army comprising of the western powers and Japan - all who wanted a piece of China.

  How ironic, he mused. These two eunuchs are Concubine Zhen’s closest companions, and now they are leading her to die.

  They took a turn away from the main thoroughfare and entered a small alley that would cut across rows of residential buildings known as the Palace of Peaceful Old Age, located at the northeastern edge of the Forbidden City. As they entered the lane, an elderly lady dressed in the dark blue tunic of a peasant emerged, accompanied by an entourage of bodyguards and handmaidens. Zhenfei’s eyes took in the familiar gait and immediately knew who she was. The peasant garb could not smother the
power that radiated from the most powerful woman in China, the woman who had condemned her to die that night – the empress dowager Cixi. No amount of disguise could hide a lifetime of exercising power over other people. It was etched in the way that she walked, and the way her head was set at an angle that portrayed superiority.

  “Majesty!” Zhenfei cried out. “Please, spare my life! Let me go with the emperor!”

  The lao fo ye ‘The Venerable Buddha’, as she liked to call herself due to her devotion to Buddhism, stopped and slowly turned to her. Seeing that the empress dowager had wanted to speak, the two cowering eunuchs and the man sent to ensure they do their job stopped. They spun around so that their victim now faced the woman who had sentenced her to die.

  “You still have the cheek to ask to go with the emperor? All of this,” she waved her hand at the surrounding mayhem, “is your fault!” she screamed at the young girl.

  “How can it be my fault?” she asked in shock. “How can a mere girl like me cause such grief to the empire?”

  “Because of the ideas you planted in his Majesty’s head!” Cixi spat. “Your ideas of reform, of aping the west, led us to this war. You” she pointed, “must have angered our ancestors when you thought that you could influence the emperor to follow your sacrilegious ideas!”