Girl with Flying Weapons

by Aya Ling

  She slipped into the street, making sure to keep a considerable distance between Fang and herself. Plenty of people on the streets offered enough camouflage. A couple of men leered at her, but she avoided eye contact and put on a blank, formidable expression, walking with a confidence and firmness in her step. Were anyone to bother her, she could discreetly toss a small stone that would hit a pressure point. Any normal person unschooled in martial arts would double up in pain.

  Fang made his way to the back of a large building with red lanterns hanging in front. Hong knew the place; it was the largest brothel in town, Heavenly Pleasures. She had finished off a few particularly cruel and vicious people here.

  Hong watched as he walked briskly to the back entrance. A few prostitutes leered at him; one tried to take his arm, but Fang shook his head. When she complained, he removed her hand firmly and talked to another prostitute.

  Thanks to her exceptional hearing under the tutelage of Old Man Liu, Hong caught what he was saying: "Tell your mistress that the governor's son has arrived on business."

  It didn't make sense. What would Fang have to do with the owner of a brothel?

  There was a movement near her, and Hong quickly ducked behind a thick bush. A couple of male servants staggered past, singing ribald songs.

  If she wanted to find out what Fang was up to, she had to go in disguise. Her clothing was too clean and fine to be a brothel servant's, nor was it bright and revealing enough to be a prostitute's.

  Hong waited for her chance. However, there were too many people passing by the back door. Since she had visited the brothel before, Hong knew there was one side where fewer people went by.

  She slipped quietly around the corner, where there was an alley so narrow that only one or two people could squeeze by. She unwound the scarf she wore wrapped round her sleeves, extracted a pair of bamboo hooks from her pouch, and attached the hooks to the end of the scarf. Then she threw the scarf into the air; the hooks fitted neatly on the window sill.

  Taking a deep breath, she leaped into the air. One foot hit the wall for support; her next leap brought her right over the window.

  Immediately, she encountered a servant girl carrying a pot of wine. The girl let out a small shriek and dropped the wine.

  Like an arrow, Hong shot out and caught the pot deftly with her left hand. At the same time, her right arm came up and her elbow hit the girl's chin smartly, knocking her out.

  Hong uttered a silent apology, hoping that the girl hadn't suffered too much pain. She listened carefully for a few seconds, trying to determine which room was completely devoid of human activity, then dragged the unconscious girl into an empty room. To ensure that she would not wake up too soon, Hong hit a couple of pressure points on the girl's shoulder blades and her waist. It would take a few hours before she awoke.

  Hong hid the girl behind the door, along with the pot of wine. Her original plan was to change clothes with the girl, but a quick glance told her it was not feasible. First, the girl was much shorter than her; Hong did not want her skirt riding up her legs. Second, she would have to return to retrieve her own clothes; no way could she return to the governor's compound dressed like a prostitute.

  But she had to act fast, or she'd miss Fang's meeting with the brothel owner. Hong bit her lip and removed her upper robe, revealing her bare shoulders. She tugged her lower robe a bit lower so it showed cleavage, and made sure her sash was tied securely around her midriff. Then she took the servant girl's shawl—it was semi-transparent, as current fashion dictated—and pulled it over her shoulders.

  Even with the shawl, she felt uncomfortable and exposed, but it was no time to be self-conscious. She couldn't leave her upper robe behind, so Hong uncorked the pot of wine and let a good amount of wine spill over the robe. Tucking the soiled robe under her arm, she opened the door and slipped into the corridor.

  Since she had been to Heavenly Pleasures for a mission just three months earlier, Hong knew the layout of the building fairly well. She remembered that the owner, Madam Jin, occupied the top floor, where she held secret meetings with a few lovers and discussed important matters with prospective clients.

  Hong hurried to the stairs, keeping her head down. Fortunately, since it was still early morning, few guests loitered around. Indeed, the place was mostly quiet except for snores from late risers and quick footsteps from servants carrying breakfast and cleaning supplies.

  On the landing of the top floor, Hong paused for a second. Voices belonging to Fang and Madam Jin drifted from the room in the end of the corridor. Noiselessly, Hong crept towards the room, which was of course closed (and most likely locked), and looked around for a place to hide.

  The heavy wooden rafters on the ceiling looked sturdy enough. Hong used her inner force to leap onto the rafters and settle her weight on a thick beam. Unless someone on the corridor made a point to look up, she would not be discovered.

  "… very punctual, my dear young man," Madam Jin was purring.

  She heard the rustling of thick, crisp paper. "Here," Fang said tonelessly. "The remaining amount. Five sheets, a hundred taels each."

  "Such a good friend you are." Madam Jin let out a high-pitched laugh. Hong felt like stuffing her ears, but reminded herself she was here to eavesdrop. Why was Fang handing over so much money to the brothel owner? Even the Queen of Flowers, the most famous and expensive courtesan, at Heavenly Pleasures should not cost more than three hundred taels, unless Fang was bidding for her first night. And why had Madam Jin complimented him for being a good friend? Who was she referring to?

  A rustle of silk and the tinkling of jade pieces hitting together came from the stairs.

  The most beautiful woman Hong had ever seen appeared. She barely wore any makeup, but she still was incredibly attractive. Skin as white as the most delicate porcelain, eyes like pools of black lagoons, lips as luscious as the litchi fruit ripe and fresh from its peel. Ebony hair, long and luxuriant and shiny, cascaded down her robes in rich waves.

  And not only were her features stunning, she moved with a grace like running water. She walked—no, glided—over the polished wooden floor with smooth, fluid steps. Her fancy robes—layers and layers of high-quality silk—billowed behind her as though she were flying. Hong instinctively knew that this perfect creature must also be an accomplished dancer.

  The woman stopped outside Madam Jin's door. Hong snapped her attention back to Fang and Jin and chided herself. In the temporary moment of being awestruck by the newcomer, she had lost whatever conversation went between Fang and Jin.

  "… have no idea what you are talking about, but I've never heard the girl mention him. You'd best be asking the people at Duel of Death."

  "All right. In that case, I bid you good day, madam."

  "Wait!" The older woman raised her voice. "Are you simply going to leave?"

  Silence. Hong wished that she could see Fang's expression.

  "But this is Heavenly Pleasures, my dear young man. Surely you didn't come with the sole purpose of paying off your friend's debt! Are you training to be a monk?"

  Hong gripped the rafters tightly, so hard that she didn't notice a splinter cutting into her skin. Which of Fang's friends was in debt?

  "No." Fang's voice remained curt. Hong reflected on how seldom she'd heard him use that tone with her. He reserved it only for people he detested, yet didn't wish to be rude to.

  Fang opened the door. His hand paused on the frame when he beheld the lovely courtesan standing outside. She seemed also surprised that he had suddenly emerged, but immediately sank into a graceful curtsy, her silken skirts rustling on the floor, and glanced up at him through long fringed eyelashes.

  Hong closed her eyes briefly. She shouldn't have done that, really, she should focus her entire attention on them, but just for that moment, she didn't want to look at Fang and see him fall head over heels for another.

  "Moon Fairy!" Madam Jin's shrill voice echoed through the corridor. "Just in time, I've been thinking of you! This
is Master Shue Fang, one of the governor's sons!"

  Fang winced. He gave Moon Fairy a short bow and prepared to leave.

  "Wait!" Madam Jin suddenly caught his sleeve and pulled him back. "Didn't you say you're seeking a man called Yao? Well, one of our frequent guests is currently working at Duel of Death. Moon Fairy, why don't you show him where Mr. Liang is resting?"

  Moon Fairy smiled—a smile that could make men empty their money bags. "It'd be my pleasure, Master Fang."

  Fang turned a deep shade of red. "I don't think…"

  "Not everyone can meet Invincible Yao, young man," Madam Jin said. "Mr. Liang, as the manager of Duel of Death, can help you. It's unlikely he will refuse your request while his head is still thick from fine wine and carnal pleasure."

  Moon Fairy moved closer and touched his arm. "It will not take long, Master Fang. Mr. Liang occupies a room just a floor below."

  Fang swallowed. "Lead the way."

  Moon Fairy curtsied deeply. She swept away as though walking on clouds; Fang stood still for a second before following her. Madam Jin looked after them, a satisfied smirk pasted on her large, pear-shaped face.

  There was nothing more Hong wanted than to slip down from her hiding place and see what business Fang had with Mr. Liang. She knew well that Liang was no good man, from reports of his decadent life as manager of the largest fight arena in the city, though he hadn't done anything that warranted a death sentence. Still, nothing good could come from Fang meeting him. And why was Fang seeking Invincible Yao? From what she had heard, Yao was the star fighter of Duel of Death. Surely Fang was not seeking him for a duel?

  While she was thus preoccupied with questions, her right foot slipped from the beam.

  Madam Jin, who was still standing in the corridor, looked up.

  Hong quickly flattened herself on the beam, praying that the thickness of the wooden construction was sufficient to shield her from view. Her heart beat wildly.

  It seemed an eternity until Madam Jin turned back. She moved to stand in front of the railings and looked down. From her location, she could see Moon Fairy leading Fang to Mr. Liang's room.

  Hong grit her teeth as she watched the older woman's fat fingers tap on the ebony railings. A big ruby ring glowed on her thumb.

  "Hmph." Madam Jin made a low snort which sounded like disapproval. "Refusing an invitation to stay, eh? Idiot."

  Hong craned her neck as much as she deemed safe. Dimly, she thought she could see the pale pink robe of Moon Fairy, who was on the floor below, but not the granite colour of Fang's robe. Either he was in another room or had departed. Judging from Madam Jin's snort, she guessed it should be the latter.

  Relieved, Hong allowed herself to smile.

  The rest of the eavesdropping went poorly, however. Madam Jin waited until Moon Fairy returned and scolded her for failing to engage the governor's son for a morning repast.

  "Have you forgotten what I've taught you?" she hissed. "Did you try leaning down and letting your cleavage show? Did you let your hair brush over his sleeve? Or even pretending to faint—even a man made of iron couldn't just let you fall!"

  Moon Fairy bowed low; her beautiful face was contrite.

  "Mother, I am sorry. But he had no intention of dallying…"

  "Fool!" Madam Jin raised her hand as though to strike her face, but stopped. It would be unwise to mar the girl's beauty. Instead, she caught Moon Fairy's shoulders and gave her a shake. "If you had truly made an effort to seduce him, no man could resist you! If only he had stayed, we could have told General Su that we have the governor's son competing for your hand, and he would have raised his price on you!"

  "Sorry, Mother. Next time I will do better."

  "Highly unlikely there'll be a next time," Madam Jin huffed. "I know he isn't the kind to seek pleasure on his own. Go back to your room and repent on your half-hearted behaviour. Remember, if you want to fetch a high price when you are finally married off, you need to attract as much competition as possible. Let your suitors know that you are hard to get." She pointed a fat finger at Moon Fairy, the rubies on her hand glittering. "Don't disappoint me, girl. I worked hard to bring you up to be the Queen of Flowers."

  She waddled off, her leather shoes creaking on the wooden floor. Moon Fairy sank on the floor and buried her face in her hands.

  Hong felt a strong rush of sympathy. Just a while ago, she had resented the courtesan's impact on Fang, but now she actually wished that Fang had showed a bit more attention.

  Fang. He probably had already left the place. Hong waited until Moon Fairy left, then slipped down the rafters. Her mind brimming with questions, she made her way back to the governor's compound.

  She longed to ask Fang what on earth he was doing, but she couldn't ask without giving away herself. What would he say if he learnt she had been to Heavenly Pleasures? What would he think if he knew her first kill had been disposing of a sadistic patron at the brothel?

  Since she had been gone for some time, Hong decided to make some purchases at the market to account for her absence. Not only could you purchase fresh produce and meat, but also imported goods from the Persians, Uighurs, Turks, Japanese and Koreans. You could have your fortune told, your portrait painted, and for those who were illiterate, there were even calligraphers who would write letters by dictation. Besides rows and rows of stalls, hawkers and peddlers plodded on, balancing bamboo yokes over their shoulders.

  When she passed the market, Hong was surprised to see Shu-Mo, Fang's personal servant, dictating something at a calligrapher's stall. The calligrapher's ink brush moved deftly over a scroll of snowy white paper; even at a distance, Hong could tell from his movements that the man was skilled.

  Perhaps she could wheedle something out of the lad; Fang treated Shu-Mo more like a friend than servant.

  "Hello," Hong said.

  Shu-Mo jumped three feet in the air. "Miss Hong! Wha… what are you doing here?"

  "I was going to ask you the same thing." Hong nodded towards the calligrapher. "Are you up to something secret that not even your master knows?"

  The lad turned bright red. "It's nothing."

  Hong quirked an eyebrow. She knew that Shu-Mo was literate—and also stingy. If he was willing to spend coppers to pay for an expert to write for him, it couldn't be something easily dismissed. A love letter, most likely.

  "By the way, have you seen Young Master Fang?" Hong decided not to tease him further. After all, her purpose was to enquire after Fang's reason for visiting Heavenly Pleasures.

  Shu-Mo immediately shook his head. "N… no. I haven't seen him. At all." But his eyes were darting back and forth. Judging from his friendship with Fang, it was more possible that the young master had told him not to tell anyone that he was going to the brothel.

  Hong pondered on how to question him further without making things too difficult for him, but just then, someone tugged on her sleeve.

  It was Ah-Ming.

  "Mr. Liu wants to see me?" Hong asked.

  Ah-Ming nodded.

  Well… it looked like she would have to find some other opportunity to learn about Fang's doings.

  She bade Shu-Mo goodbye, the latter clearly relieved.

  ELEVEN

  On the way to the apothecary, Hong noticed that Ah-Ming was quieter than usual. He was not a talkative child, but he usually would greet her with a bashful smile. Today, he kept his face down and did not look at her. It looked as though a dark cloud was hovering over him.

  "Are you feeling well today?" Hong tried to touch his forehead, but the boy pushed her hand away and shook his head.

  Today certainly was full of strange things. First Fang visited a brothel but not for pleasure, and now Ah-Ming was not talking to her.

  At the drug store, Meng-Ting was weighing a bunch of lotus roots on bronze scales.

  "There you are." Meng-Ting wrapped the lotus roots in a piece of oiled paper. "Ah-Ming, would you like to help me put away these herbs?"

  Ah-Ming nodded and shuffled
to the back of the house. His back was hunched over, adding to his dejected look.

  "Has anything happened to him?" she asked in a low voice. "He seems so… low-spirited."

  Meng-Ting sighed. A brief look of pain crossed his face. "You'll hear from Grandfather later."

  Hong wasn't quite sure why Old Man Liu had something to do with Ah-Ming's mood, but she did not question further. "You sent Ah-Ming to find me."

  A customer happened to drop by at the moment. "Doctor Liu! My back has been aching all day long! Have you a lotion that can cure sore backs?"

  "Right away, Mrs. Yang." Meng-Ting rummaged in the drawers and withdrew a package. "Rub this on your back three times a day. If it doesn't work, come back and I'll give you another for free."

  "Thank you. Mind if I sit in front of your shop for a moment? Been carrying buckets of water the whole morning."

  "Of course, of course." Meng-Ting brought out a low stool and set it on the ground. "You deserve a rest after all the hard work you've been doing."

  Mrs. Yang plopped on the stool with a grin. Drawing a large floppy fan woven from reeds, she began to fan herself noisily, letting out a sigh every ten seconds.

  Meng-Ting and Hong exchanged a look. Mrs. Yang was known to be one of the biggest gossips in the city.

  "Grandfather wants to hear how you've been practising that new song," Meng-Ting said lightly, in the same tone as if he were chatting about the weather. "He says that you need to work harder on your flute playing."

  Hong pretended to sigh. "Sifu is so demanding. I believe I didn't perform badly at Master Shue's banquet, but still he isn't satisfied."

  "You know Grandfather's always like that. Probably it's more likely he wants your company than to criticise your ability." Meng-Ting gave a good-natured shrug. "And give him some of this tea, a friend of mine brought it from the South. Very refreshing, and the scent isn't too strong. Best on the second steeping, but since it's expensive, you can drink the first cup and give my grandfather the second."

  "Will do." Hong tucked the bag of tea in her girdle. "Do you mind if I also request some of that rouge you gave me last time? I believe my supply is running short. The maids keep complimenting your products; Golden Lotus made off with an entire jar." She was lying deliberately. Meng-Ting knew nothing about making cosmetics.