by Aya Ling
It had been easier when the victims lived in the vicinity of the district, but Yangzhou City had taken three hours on horseback. She had tried to finish the job as quickly as possible, but even though disposing of Chu had been simple enough, she was exhausted after riding nonstop, sneaking in the city past curfew, and making her way to the governor's compound.
"Why don't you leave the Shues?" her sifu had asked. "You have worked for the governor for ten years. You have paid your dues long ago."
But she was reluctant to leave—yet. As much as she wanted to help her sifu eliminate crooks, she was used to living in the Shue household. She was grateful for the governor's lenient treatment, and she would like to stay for some time, until she could be certain that there would be no regrets when she left.
Footsteps echoed outside. Another knock on the door.
"Hong, it's me! I've brought something for your cold." It was Golden Lotus, one of the maidservants.
Hong immediately pulled the blankets up to her chin. "Come in," she said, in what she hoped was a croaky voice.
Golden Lotus entered, carrying a ceramic pot on a wooden tray. She was one of the prettiest maids in the household—a plump young girl barely sixteen, with skin that resembled roses and cream, large eyes that usually sparkled with spirit, and a pretty laugh that made people think of spring.
"Here, sister." She set the pot on the table. A savoury smell of onions and garlic wafted in the air. "Come and have some chicken broth."
"Thank you." Hong faked a cough. "It's very sweet of you to make it for me."
Golden Lotus grinned. "Young Master ordered us to cook for you. In fact, he even supervised us! He stood there the whole time when we did the boning and selected the herbs, and he even did most of the boiling and stirring. Honestly"—Golden Lotus suddenly became very severe—"you should consider yourself fortunate, Hong. I haven't heard of any young lords who are willing to cook for a woman, much less a maid."
Hong kept her face down. She had had some inkling that the young master fancied her, but she hadn't expected that he would go to the lengths of invading the kitchen.
"That is very kind of him. Please tell him I am very grateful for his consideration." She forgot to fake her voice this time, but Golden Lotus didn't notice.
"Here's a better idea: why don't you go to his rooms once you're better? He will be delighted to see you. I can lend you a second-hand robe that Miss Lynn gave me the other day. It's low-cut here"—she drew a finger across her bosom—"but don't worry, it's not too revealing. I'd say it's much better than the dreary blue robe you wear every day. Honestly, you should wear brighter colours—how about a nice crimson red? Since your name means red anyway."
Hong smiled, but shook her head. She did know how to dress up—the fancy, ornate dress she had worn the night before easily outshone any of Golden Lotus's—but she preferred to keep a low profile at the governor's house. Plus, after years of training with her sifu, who led a frugal life, Hong was used to living simply.
"I can't. I promised Master Liu that I would visit him."
"Old Man Liu?" Golden Lotus wrinkled her pretty little nose. "I know he's famous and all, but seriously, you've been taking lessons from him for ten years. Surely you don't need to go and see him so frequently. It isn't as if he lacks company, he doesn't even want to live with his grandsons."
"He is my mentor," Hong said sharply. "Do not speak condescendingly of him."
Golden Lotus was rather taken aback by her tone. Usually Hong was calm and soft-spoken. Rarely did she display any temper.
"Fine." Golden Lotus shrugged, heading for the door. "If you'd prefer the company of an old man when you could be seeing our dashing young master, it's your choice."
The door closed behind her with a bang.
Hong looked down at the bowl of broth. Steam was still rising from it. Slowly, she got off the bed and reached the table. Taking a wooden spoon, she ladled a bit of hot soup and tasted it.
The broth was slightly saltier than she liked, but then she preferred her food simple and bland. Nevertheless, Hong smiled as she finished the bowl.
THREE
The next day, Hong prepared to visit her sifu. Unlike the sophisticated process she went through when disguising herself as a courtesan, she slipped into a simple dark blue cotton robe and selected a snowy white girdle. Then she dabbed a small amount of face powder over her face, twisted her long black hair into a chignon on top of her head and secured it with a hairpin of carved ebony.
Time to begin her daily routine of tidying and preparing her master's office.
Governor Shue's office was situated in the main building. From the servants' quarters, one had to pass through the rear garden by one of the many winding paths, go past pavilions, ponds, and various shrubbery, reach the rear buildings, which were the living quarters of womenfolk, and finally arrive at the main hall. It was much easier for guests entering from the front gates—they just had to pass through the front courtyard.
It was quiet in the main compound. The Shue family was still having breakfast in the east side building; she could see several servants, Golden Lotus included, hurrying between the side building and the kitchen, carrying trays of rice and large jars of soy milk.
Only a few elderly servants were dusting the furniture in the grand parlour. Hong greeted them with a friendly "Good morning," and entered the governor's office.
She scrubbed the floor, polished the porcelain vases, refilled the lamps with hemp oil, dusted the bookshelf, and set out the brushes, ink, and paper on the mahogany desk.
Just when she finished grinding the inkstone, Shue Song entered the room. He was a tall, distinguished-looking man with a well-trimmed beard and pleasant features. Although he was nearing fifty, Shue looked young for his age; the strenuous military exercise that he still undertook daily made him look fitter than most of his peers, who had taken up a life of luxury and debauchery.
"Good morning, Master." Hong dipped into a curtsy.
"As punctual as usual, Hong, dear." Shue smiled at her. "I heard from Fang that you were unwell yesterday?"
"Yes. But I am much better now, Master."
Shue strode to the desk and sat down, leaning his elbow against the armrest.
"The weather being mercurial lately, do take care of yourself," he said, then lowered his voice. "It has been a year, no?"
Hong nodded. "Master, do not worry. I chose this path. I do not regret it."
Shue regarded her pensively. Although she was technically a servant, she had been of a well-to-do family, and she could have simply married into the Shue family—thus ensuring a normal, secure, prosperous life forever. She was no beauty, but he was certain that someone among the servants would be happy to take her as a bride—not to mention his third son, who seemed to be much taken with her since they were children. Yet since she had revealed to him that she was training to be a vigilante, he had had the feeling that it would not be long before she left the household.
A vigilante did not associate with government officials. A vigilante usually evaded or broke the law. Hong did not want her secret identity to inconvenience her master, even though he knew she was doing it for a good cause.
Sometimes he regretted that he had allowed her to continue training with Old Man Liu, that he had allowed his friend's only daughter to undertake such a perilous profession, but it was too late.
"Master? If you do not need my services later, I should like to request leave to visit my sifu today. I have been neglecting my music studies lately."
Shue understood. She was to give Old Man Liu a report of her mission the day before.
"By all means," he said, taking up his brush. "Please pass along my regards. You will be back for dinner?"
"Yes." Then, as though touched by remorse, Hong bowed again. "Thank you, Master. I will return as soon as I can."
Once she was finished with her morning duties, Hong hurried back to her room. By now, the family had finished breakfast, and the servants had clea
red things away. A lot more activity was going on. Several girls, all dressed in bright colours of crimson, yellow, and green, were playing football in the garden, right by a golden pavilion.
While football was popular in the military and often used as a means of leisurely training, it was enjoyed by womenfolk as well. Rules were simple—there was no limit on the number of people, nor restrictions on which parts of the body might touch the ball. All it required was that the ball must not fall on the ground. The person who failed to catch the ball was labelled the loser—and usually punished by drinking a concoction of lemon juice mixed with peppers.
A gasp rose from the girls. One of them had kicked too exuberantly—the leather ball sailed over the pavilion, hit the green-glazed tiles, and rolled off the roof, landing near Hong's feet.
Hong was tempted to send the ball flying back to them with a well-aimed kick, but she always tried to conceal her martial abilities as much as possible. It was easier if people took her to be a quiet type who just played the lute and transcribed notes for the governor.
So she just picked up the ball and threw it back, deliberately making it a lousy throw. It sailed beyond the pavilion and would have landed in a clump of azaleas, had not a girl darted forward and caught the ball deftly with one hand.
It was Shue's only daughter, Lynn. She was a pretty, vivacious girl just past seventeen. Though she was still young, she excelled in football, often participating in games with her brothers. Hong had served her occasionally, bringing her snacks and sewing her clothes. Despite that Lynn was sometimes rather vain and self-centred, being the only girl in the family, Hong liked the young mistress's straightforward manner and knew she had a good heart.
"What're you standing there for?" Lynn called. "Come join us!"
"Sorry, but not today. I must be seeing Master Liu."
"Aww, come on, Hong! Just a game!"
Hong smiled, but shook her head. "I'm already late. Please enjoy yourselves."
It was a cool, breezy day in the city. Making sure that the bag containing her lute was securely strapped on her back, Hong proceeded to walk from the governor's compound to the east gate of the city. She could have borrowed a donkey from the stables, but she preferred walking as one way to exercise. Besides, the roads could get extremely crowded.
The city had changed much since she had first come here as a slave. Since there had been no war here, the city was now a prosperous urban centre. Elms and pagodas lined the streets, shops of all sizes populated the market, the monastery and temples were beautifully maintained, most of the people appeared to be neatly dressed and did not lack for food.
Of course, the shady areas still existed—the brothels and gambling rings thrived with patrons. She still saw beggars and disabled people crouching by the road sometimes, knocking their foreheads on the mud. But it was a much better world than the one she remembered in her childhood, and she was working hard to ensure that it stayed that way.
"Have some pity, miss?" A beggar raised his head, showing a mouthful of yellowed broken teeth. "Some alms to spare?"
"Not at the present, I'm afraid," Hong whispered, bending close to him. Were the maids at the Shue household to see her now, they would be appalled at the sight of Hong, meticulously dressed and arrayed, conversing at such close proximity with a filthy beggar. "But I will let you know when the time comes."
She straightened up and walked slowly away. Her exchange with the beggar seemed harmless enough, but in fact, her sifu maintained a network of beggar spies—usually disabled people—throughout the city and beyond. Because he himself was disabled, her sifu chose to seek those who were blind, deaf, or missing a limb, and told them that in return for information on crooks and criminals, he would supply them a fair number of coppers. The beggars were useful especially for finding out information, as normally people wouldn't pay attention to them.
She felt someone tug on her sleeve. It was Ah-Ming, a child of ten. His mother had died early and now it was only his father and his grandmother living together. Ah-Ming also worked as an assistant at her friend Meng-Ting's drugstore, where he could learn a new trade and also earn a bit to help out his family.
"This is for you," Ah-Ming said shyly. He held out a bunch of daisies. "From my grandmother's garden."
"Why, thank you," Hong smiled, pinning the flowers on her sash. "So you're not working at Meng-Ting's today?"
Ah-Ming shook his head. "He told me to take the day off."
"Hello, Miss Hong!" a hearty voice said. It was Ah-Ming's father, a stout, middle-aged man. "Come and have a bowl of noodle soup, it's on me!"
"Thank you, but I have to be going."
"Pshaw, it won't take long! You're all skin and bones! How are you going to find a husband, hey?" At the time, being plump was considered attractive—it showed that the girl was well-fed and healthy.
"Please, Miss Hong," Ah-Ming said.
Unable to refuse their hospitality, Hong sat down at the little shop. Little did she know that this would be the last meal she ate there.
FOUR
Old Man Liu lived in a secluded compound right outside the city. He was a blind old man around seventy years old, and was known to be an eccentric person of a volatile temper. Few found favour in his eyes. Yet he was still highly respected due to his proficiency in music; it was rumoured that he had trained in the emperor's palace when he was young, but the war had ravaged the capital and taken his eyesight. He had two grandsons, but unlike most elderly people, he chose not to live with his family. Instead, he preferred to spend his days with his mahogany lute and bamboo flute.
Hong was one of the few people who had managed to form a friendship with Liu. Nine years ago, she had happened to meet him near a temple and he had offered to teach her the lute. Since then, Hong had travelled to his compound every ten days, taking music lessons from him. As a result, her music ability surpassed all servants in Shue's household and her performance had been in great demand any time there was a feast or ceremony. But it wasn't just music lessons that Liu had taught her. It was the martial arts that had changed her life completely.
When she left the city through the east gate, it was another hour on foot before she arrived at Old Man Liu's residence, a medium-sized compound that was at least two hundred years old. It stood at the foot of a hill that was covered by bamboos. Due to the remoteness of Liu's residence, few people would pass by this area, apart from occasional visits from Hong and Liu's grandsons. Some said that Liu preferred it this way—it was rare that an old blind man of seventy would choose to live alone when clearly he had offspring to care for him, but then he was always an eccentric old man.
The wooden door swung open before Hong had raised her hand to knock. A young man in his early twenties looked out. He was neatly dressed in a grey cotton robe and wore a white gauze cap. He smelled of ginseng and rhubarb.
"You're a bit late today," he said. "Come in quickly, Grandpa has been waiting."
"I had a snack at Ah-Ming's father's shop." Hong stepped through the doorway. "Sifu's hearing is as good as ever, Meng-Ting."
"Tell me about it." Meng-Ting shook his head. "You can never sneak up on him. I swear he can hear how many acupuncture needles I drop on the ground by accident."
They entered a small courtyard, which was quite bare except for a bamboo couch and an accompanying armrest set in a corner. A hunchbacked elderly man with grey whiskers sat cross-legged on the couch, a wooden bowl filled with dried melon seeds set upon the armrest.
Once Hong stepped into the courtyard, the elderly man grabbed a handful of seeds and threw them at Hong. The girl immediately spread out her arms; in a few swift, fluid motions, she caught the seeds in her hands. Not a single one hit her face or body, or worse, the ground.
"Typical welcome," Meng-Ting muttered.
Hong came to the old man's side and laid the seeds on the armrest.
"Sifu, I have come."
"Hmm." Old Man Liu popped a melon seed in his mouth. "Not one seed on the ground. I sho
uld have used a larger amount."
"Did everything go well with the salt merchant, Hong?" Meng-Ting asked.
Hong gave an account of her mission. She had sneaked into the house of a former prostitute who rented out clothes, grabbed a set of fine robes and matching accessories, and left a big piece of gold on the table. Then she had slipped in the brothel next door, found an empty room and got dressed. Arrayed like a normal courtesan, she had pretended that she was a newcomer and asked a servant which boat was engaged for Merchant Chu that night. The rest was simple. Her lute performance had easily attracted an audience.
"But you don't know how to swim!" Meng-Ting said.
"Many people in the city can't swim either," Hong said. "Besides, the boats for nightly entertainment were huge and had entire rooms built on them."
Old Man Liu grunted. "There's not much danger for Hong when she's dealing with an old lecherous merchant. I'm more concerned about the time she needed to accomplish the mission. What if her next mission takes her to the capital?"
"She'll have to leave, sooner or later," Meng-Ting said. "Aren't you planning to take leave of the governor soon?"
Hong felt a pang in her heart, but she kept her expression neutral.
"Yes. I am looking for an opportunity."
"At any rate, we'd better continue working on your martial skills." Liu slowly got up from the bamboo couch. "Let's go to the training room. Meng-Ting, I want another pot of tea. Be sure not to over-steep the tea leaves."
"I never over-steep," Meng-Ting protested. He was a physician, for God's sake. He was an expert in brewing herbal remedies that required meticulous attention; there was no way he could mess up boiling a simple cup of tea.
Liu hobbled towards the building, and Hong followed him. She did not assist him, as Liu was already too familiar with the surroundings and moved around as though his eyesight was perfectly normal.