Girl with Flying Weapons

by Aya Ling

  "Furthermore," Ping added, "we have evidence that it is Duel of Death that decided to poison Yao, so that they could reap benefits at the next competition."

  An uproar was raised. People were whispering and pointing at Manager Liang, whose expression changed for a second, but soon he was back to normal, smiling as though nothing had happened.

  "Evidence?" Magistrate Ho said. "Duel of Death has been around for years, young man. What evidence can you provide?"

  "The owner of Luo's Winehouse has told us that the co-manager of Duel of Death has talked to him." Ping raised a hand and pointed to Potbelly. "Mr. Luo said that he was advised to bet on the Southern champion instead of Invincible Yao. Were Yao truly to lose, Mr. Luo was to split his winnings half and half."

  "Ridiculous," Potbelly said, smiling. "I never said such a thing to Mr. Luo. Why would I bet against my own fighter?"

  "Call for Mr. Luo," Gwang said. "Then we can ascertain if Duel of Death is staging their own cheating or not."

  "But Yao is dead!" Manager Liang said loudly. "Are you implying that we had planned to kill our own champion? How absurd! Why would we choose to do something destructive when Yao has been bringing us so much business? I'd say half, nay, most of the audience at Duel of Death are there to see him fight!"

  His voice echoed off the walls. Many of the citizens outside began to nod and whisper that Manager Liang had a point.

  "Your Honour," Potbelly said. "When one of our men, Little Tiger, caught Mr. Fang leaning over Yao's body, he also discovered a wine jar on the table. The coroner testified that the wine contained a lethal dose that overpowered Yao. Even a helpless child can kill Yao with this poison." He pointed a fat finger at Fang. "Is this not enough to explain that Mr. Fang is fully capable of overpowering our prized fighter? It doesn't matter that Yao is more powerful—"

  "Your Honour!" Gwang raised his voice and took a step forward. "They are trying to evade the issue that they had intended to poison Yao! Please, if you can just let us call for Mr. Luo—"

  "Silence!" Magistrate Ho rapped the gavel on the table. "Mr. Gwang, were it not for the fact you are Governor Shue's son, I would have you slapped on the mouth for interrupting the session. You have heard Manager Liang speak, it's absurd they should want to kill their own fighter."

  "Due to the strange nature in which Yao died, we searched the house more thoroughly. On the floor, we found this." Manager Liang extracted a piece of crumpled paper from his breast pocket. He held it up in plain view.

  Hong's heart beat wildly. On the paper was the stamped imprint of—

  "This comes from the store of Liu Meng-Ting. There is still a bit of poisonous powder on it. The coroner has testified that the powder is the same that poisoned Yao."

  "Indeed?" Magistrate Ho leaned his elbows on the table. "So what you mean is that Mr. Liu worked in cahoots with Mr. Fang? That they plotted together to do away with Mr. Yao?"

  "I do not dare to presume that was the truth, Your Honour," Liang replied, though his expression was smug. "But it is known that the physician has remained on intimate terms with the governor's people. I've heard that one of the maids has frequented Mr. Liu's apothecary."

  Hong bit her lip. Obviously he was referring to her.

  "Where is Liu Meng-Ting?" Magistrate Ho said.

  Liang smirked. "If Your Honour permits, my men have the apothecary in their hands right now. Outside."

  "Then what are you waiting for? Bring them in!"

  Hong clenched her fists—unseen, for her hands were concealed under her long sleeves. It was obvious that Magistrate Ho was taking sides—he refused to summon Mr. Luo, but did not hesitate to call for Meng-Ting.

  A couple of fighters from Duel of Death strode in the tribunal. One had a large hand clamped on the shoulder of a young man.

  Meng-Ting. His cap was askew and his knees were shaking.

  "Kneel down!"

  Meng-Ting hesitated before slowly lowering himself on the floor.

  "So." Magistrate Ho regarded the physician with a disapproving eye. "You are Liu Meng-Ting? You keep a store full of drugs in the western district?"

  "I do."

  "Well, then. Mr. Liu, do you recognise this?" Magistrate Ho indicated the paper on Liang's hand.

  Meng-Ting's eyes widened. "It… it is from my store, Your Honour," he stammered.

  "What nerve you have! Your poison has been found in the house of Yao Chian, who died four days ago. Can you give an explanation for this?"

  Meng-Ting paused, staring at Manager Liang. "I… received an order from Duel of Death to supply a drug that will dull one's senses. I prepared the drug. That is the only way I can conceive that my wrapper has been found there."

  "A drug that will dull the senses?" Magistrate Ho sneered. "Would this drug be powerful enough to kill a fighter whose strength has been unequalled? Would it not be more reasonable to say that Mr. Fang has ordered the poison from you, so he can get rid of Mr. Yao easily?"

  "But Your Honour… anyone could have bought a drug from me. My wrappers are easy to procure."

  Ho thudded the gavel on the table. "Are you questioning my authority, young man?"

  "Mr. Liu," Manager Liang said smoothly. "The coroner said that the poison used was called Three-Steps-to-Hell. It is a rare poison, one that is so strong that after taking it, a person will be dead after he takes three steps. Are you saying that this poison is easy to procure as well? Look." He showed the white powder on the paper. "Care to tell us if this is the poison from your store?"

  Meng-Ting trembled. But under the stern gaze from the magistrate, he moved forward and sniffed. His face fell.

  "Impossible," he whispered.

  "Ha! So you admit that the poison came from you! Enough—this hearing has dragged far too long. Three days later, I shall open the session again. If no further evidence is offered by that time, then the verdict for both criminals shall be issued." Ho rapped his gavel. "Mr. Liu Meng-Ting has been found guilty of providing the means of death. Arrest him!"

  "Wait," Hong blurted. Without thinking, she came forward.

  "Who are you?" Magistrate Ho stared at her, his expression hostile.

  "I'm a servant at Governor Shue's," Hong replied, her heart beating wildly. "I am friends with Liu Meng-Ting, and I know him. I beseech you, Your Honour, not to send him to jail."

  "Your Honour." Manager Liang spoke up. "I believe that this is the maid whom I referred to earlier. The one who might have passed the drugs to Fang."

  "Hmph!" Magistrate Ho leaned back and glared at her. "Do you want me to find you guilty as well? Guards, take both of them away!"

  "But…"

  "If you interfere with court procedure, I'll have you taken away as well!"

  Hong clenched her fists and willed herself to be still. It was very hard not to reach for a glass needle and send it straight at the magistrate's stupid forehead. But she couldn't. She had to stay behind and do her best to find out the real murderer. If she was locked away behind bars, she couldn't do anything.

  NINETEEN

  Hong felt bad after the additional arrest of Meng-Ting. She had thought things would work out, that Manager Liang, Potbelly, and Whirlwind Ko would be found guilty, that Fang would be released. Now she had to seek a way to free them both. If there was a way. Under corrupt officials like Magistrate Ho, a fair hearing was only available to those willing to empty their pockets for those in power.

  That night, after the hearing, she went straight to her room and locked the door. Golden Lotus and the others were too distressed about Young Master Fang to care about her, and besides, Hong's expression had clearly conveyed that she wished to be left alone.

  Tossing and turning on the bed, Hong contemplated what she ought to do. What she really would like to do was to pay the magistrate a visit when he was in bed, press a dagger against his throat, and make him free Fang and Meng-Ting. But, tempting as the thought was, it wouldn't solve the problem completely. She still needed to bring the real murderers, the conspiring vil
lains at Duel of Death, to justice.

  Which wouldn't happen. Not if Manager Liang had been passing off silver taels to Magistrate Ho—she was almost certain of it. Liang's riches might rival Merchant Guo's, if only one knew all of his assets, and he certainly was not above bribing. In fact, she had done some bribing herself—small amounts of course—when necessary.

  If the officials were corrupt, then it was her job to bring justice. Old Man Liu had made it clear to her that she was trained for this purpose, in an era when the common folk suffered and those in power were rotten. Even though Duel of Death was no picnic—that night of spying had taught her much—she would arm herself with as many weapons and gadgets as possible, and do away with the people who ought to lay down their lives for poisoning another.

  Her decision made, Hong finally fell asleep.

  The next day, Hong rose earlier than usual. Since Governor Shue was still on his way to the capital, she had less to do. After cleaning the furniture in her master's room, she told the elderly servant that she had to visit her sifu. Since Meng-Ting had been arrested, it was natural that she wanted to inform and comfort Old Man Liu, so the servant didn't complain.

  She hurried to the stables. Today she did not want to walk; a donkey would get her to her sifu sooner. When she passed by Fang's steed, she felt a pang of agony. The steed, a handsome breed bought from the Uighurs in northwestern China, had its head down and its eyelids half closed, as though it were lonely.

  "Don't brood," Hong told the horse. "I will save your master and bring him home."

  "Miss Hong?" The Turk who cared for the horses stood over her. "I've been hearing that Young Master Fang is still in prison. Has a verdict been issued?"

  "No. But he is still in jail." Hong swung on top of the donkey. "I am going to ask for help. If I am not back for lunch, do not be worried. I will be at my sifu's."

  "I get your message. Good luck, Miss Hong."

  The exterior doors of Old Man Liu's compound had been left open. Hong didn't even have to knock. She went straight in—and halted.

  Next to her sifu was a young man. He was rather nice-looking, with large limpid eyes and delicate features that gave him an almost feminine appearance. While his hands were covered with blisters and bruises from work, his face spoke otherwise. At sight of her, he gave her a small smile, though a shade of sadness hung over him.

  "Meng-Chou?" Hong said. She hadn't seen him for weeks. Meng-Chou, the younger brother of Meng-Ting, worked as a carpenter in a remote corner of the city. Besides his normal work of fashioning tables and chairs, he also designed many weapons for Hong. Old Man Liu would suggest or even draw the design, and Hong would convey those to Meng-Chou, on the pretence that Liu wanted some handicraft from his other grandson.

  "Naturally he'd be here," Old Man Liu snapped. "What is this I'm hearing of—Meng-Ting also in jail?"

  "It was Manager Liang and his cronies." Hong clenched her fists. "They accused Meng-Ting of supplying the poison that killed Yao. By some despicable means, they stole Three-Steps-to-Hell from his store, and used it to cover up their plan of poisoning their own fighter."

  "They did?" Meng-Chou said.

  "I heard it with my own ears." Hong told them of the night she had spied on Manager Liang. "Meng-Chou, can you fashion me some new weapons? I want to find an appropriate time to sneak into Duel of Death and deal justice to those who committed the crime."

  "There is no need," Old Man Liu said sharply.

  "But sifu, the magistrate won't listen…"

  "You want to deal justice to the one who poisoned Yao? Fine. Do you even know who it is?"

  "Whirlwind Ko. Potbelly. Or even Manager Liang."

  "You're wrong."

  The abrupt, harsh tone of her sifu startled her.

  "Hong," Meng-Chou said gently. "Have you considered that it would be strange for the manager to kill his prized fighter? Especially when Yao was bringing in so much money?"

  Hong paused. "It could be Ko. Mrs. Yao told me he was nicknamed Second Man, meaning he always came second to Yao. Perhaps Ko always wanted to get rid of the person who has bested him?"

  "Pure speculation. Have you even met this Ko?" Old Man Liu said, shaking his head. "All right, suppose it is him. You storm into Duel of Death and kill this Ko. Would that cause the magistrate to pardon Fang?"

  Hong was silent. Her sifu was right. How could she be so dense, so irrational? Obviously, her concern for Fang had clouded her mind.

  "As a matter of fact," Old Man Liu said. "We have already found out who supplied the poison. It was not someone in Duel of Death."

  "Impossible. I heard it myself."

  "Manager Liang merely wanted to drug Yao; he only wanted to weaken his fighter. Now, the poison used is uncommonly lethal. Meng-Ting said that Three-Steps-To Hell was only used when ending the suffering of a chronically ill patient, or someone who is injured far too seriously."

  Old Man Liu folded his hands and leaned forward.

  "Hong, it's the child Meng-Ting employed. Ah-Ming swapped the drug for the poison. Ah-Ming was the one who poisoned Yao."

  Hong felt as though the world had turned over.

  "A… Ah-Ming?" she whispered. The poor child wouldn't harm a fly! But then… considering that Yao had killed his father and no attempt was made to arrest him, there was the motive. And since Ah-Ming was also helping out at Meng-Ting's…

  "I don't believe it," she said, but her voice sounded empty.

  "Ah-Ming came to us when Meng-Ting didn't return to the store," Meng-Chou said quietly. "When he learnt that Meng-Ting was arrested, the poor child broke down and told us everything. He happened to overhear the people from Duel of Death talking when they came to buy drugs. He saw his chance. When Meng-Ting called him to wrap up the order, he slipped in Three-Steps-to-Hell instead. Meng-Ting never missed it; he rarely used that poison unless necessary."

  "So what do you say, huh?" Old Man Liu said. "Going to turn in Ah-Ming to the magistrate?"

  Hong wrung her hands. What Ah-Ming had done was not something she would encourage, but nevertheless understandable. Children were always expected to avenge their parents—it was in the teachings of Confucius.

  If only she had reached Yao first!

  "I… can't," she finally said. "Is there a way to save Master Fang and Meng-Ting without sacrificing the child?"

  "I thought you'd say that," Old Man Liu said. "Now, I wouldn't recommend going off to kill those bastards at Duel of Death. Heaven knows how many nefarious deeds they've done, but as long as they don't do something that'll warrant a death sentence, we'll leave them alone. What I would suggest is that you try to save Meng-Ting. Go to the prison and figure out how to get him out. He can leave the city and find business elsewhere. An apothecary isn't a noble profession, but people are always in need of one."

  Meng-Chou started. "Grandfather, are you certain? Are you meaning to send Meng-Ting on the run?"

  "What about Master Fang?" Hong said.

  "If you have a better plan, then tell me. Magistrate Ho doesn't care who did it, as long as he finds someone," Old Man Liu said. "As for the Fang kid, they won't really execute him. He is the son of the governor, and even though Ho isn't afraid of Shue Song, he wouldn't want to be on his bad side either. I dare say he'll keep Fang in jail as long as the kid admits his guilt. Then Ho will say that since Fang has shown remorse, he will subject him to a hundred lashings only. The kid will be set free, eventually."

  A hundred lashings! As much as she believed in Fang's body strength, a hundred lashings would still easily render him bloody and unconscious.

  "So what do you say, Hong?" Old Man Liu looked at her expectantly.

  Hong straightened her shoulders.

  "I'll do it."

  TWENTY

  A desolate atmosphere still hung over the house when Hong returned. Only two days remained until the second hearing.

  Hong went to the kitchen. Golden Lotus happened to be packing up a food basket for Fang.

  "I will go wi
th you." Hong washed two pairs of chopsticks and laid them in the basket. "Do you mind if I pack some food for Mr. Liu as well? Sifu wanted me to bring lunch for him."

  "Hong." Golden Lotus fixed her with a piercing gaze. "Is it because of Mr. Liu Meng-Ting that you are refusing Master Fang?"

  "It has nothing to do with him," Hong said calmly. "I am going to see him just because sifu asked me to. I'll say this—Mr. Liu and I are only friends. By the way, have the other young masters decided how to save Master Fang?"

  "We tried eavesdropping last night, Silver Peony and I. Master Gwang was in favour of bribing the magistrate so Master Fang wouldn't suffer. Master Ping preferred to continue finding a way to prove Master Fang's innocence. But when they discovered us listening, they shooed us away so I don't know what they eventually decided to do." Golden Lotus sighed. "So far, all evidence still points to Master Fang! Oh, why did he choose to go to see that damned fighter that day?"

  An hour later, they arrived at the magistrate's tribunal.

  "We'd like to see Master Shue Fang and Mr. Liu," Hong told the jailer. "We are from the governor's house." As was the unspoken custom, she slipped a piece of silver in his hand. "You must have a load of work guarding, so here's a little compensation. Buy a cool drink or something."

  "Ah…" The jailer pocketed the money willingly. His gaze roved over her face, then settled on Golden Lotus, whose beauty and youth was like a beacon of light in the gloomy, smelly prison. "What's your name, girlie?"

  Golden Lotus shrank back. Normally she was blithe and bold, but the jailer was a rather nasty-looking personage with all of his teeth missing except for one large tooth.

  "She is one of Governor Shue's servants," Hong quickly said, hoping that the mention of the governor would daunt the jailer. "She has been held very favourably in his regard."

  The jailer licked his lips. Finally he decided that it wasn't worth his time to take advantage of Golden Lotus. "A favourite, eh? Not surprised." He took a bunch of keys from a drawer. "Follow me."