Zhànshì: A Dark Retelling

by Anna Edwards

  The training yard, which is basically a concrete covered playground, is full of people all performing drills. I stop for a moment to take it all in. The loyalty within the Yi Shu is phenomenal. Even though these men know many of them will die, they’ve all shown up and are working hard.

  “About time you joined us, sir,” one of my team, a man named Chen, jokes with me. He’s been training with the Yi Shu almost as long as I have, but he’s not as motivated for progression as I am,

  “I got a little waylaid.”

  Chen sniffs the air, and I curse the fact I didn’t clean my teeth.

  “I’m sure you did. Your secret is safe with me. I know it’s the first time you’ve ever been late.”

  “Thank you.” I lower my head in a bow to him, “What’s been happening?”

  “We’ve separated the recruits into groups, and we’re now testing their fitness before we see what they’ve got in the way of weapon skills. I’ve been looking after your group and mine. We’ve got four people per group.”

  “Thank you. Where are my recruits?” I look around hopefully. Some of these recruits look good—they’re strong men who’ll give us an advantage against the Jīn Long. A particular group catches my eye, four big men, each performing star jumps and push-ups with ease.

  “They look good.” I nod toward them.

  Chen chuckles. “Yes, sir, they are. It’s why I chose them as my group.”

  “Bastard,” I curse in jest. I should have known not to be late today. “Go on then, what have you given me?”

  Chen gestures to where another group are climbing an assault course. My mouth drops open. If Chen has the elite of the bunch, I’ve got the dregs. Two of the men look half okay—they’re managing the course, but the other two, an overweight man and a boy who looks little more than eighteen, are both struggling behind them.

  “Seriously?”

  “Sorry, sir. I had to give them to someone,”

  “You’re supposed to protect your general,” I moan.

  “Our general is the best fighter in the group. He doesn’t need protecting.”

  The boy tumbles over a high bar, and I wince.

  “It looks like I’m not going to be fighting. I’m going to be spending my entire time protecting those two. They’ll get me killed,” I shout, and both the men look at me.

  The boy has a pissed off expression on his face while the overweight man starts to cough and then grabs his chest.

  “Oh crap,” I curse and race toward him. “Get a doctor!” I shout as he collapses down in my arms, his skin turning blue. “He’s having a heart attack.”

  The young boy looks on, his eyes wide with concern.

  “Is he okay?” the boy tentatively asks.

  “He’ll be fine. The doctors will look after him.” I know this man will play no further part in the draft, though. If he has a son, they’ll be called up in his place. If not, we’ll be one man down. This was inevitable with so many people of different ages and fitness. “Come, what is your name?” I question and pull the boy and the two other men in my team away from where the doctors are now giving CPR to the man.

  “Zhàn, sir, son of Lin Zhànshì.” The bow lowers his head in a greeting to me.

  “Welcome, Zhàn. We need to improve your fitness, but that’s possible with a bit more exercise. I’ll devise a plan, and you’ll start it immediately. Let’s see what skills you have with a sword. You.” I point to one of the other men in my group.”What’s your name?”

  “Kuo, sir.”

  “Kuo, I want you and Zhàn to spar with swords. Hits only, no blood.”

  Both the boy and Kuo bow to me and walk away to gather their weapons. I take a seat on a nearby bench, my head still hurting and my stomach now voicing its displeasure at not getting any food.

  I watch as Kuo and the other strong man from my group chuckle between themselves, confident of an easy victory against the young boy. I must admit I’m definitely worried about having him on the team. I suspect I’ll be spending most of my time ensuring he doesn’t die, because in the heat of a battle, he’ll be up against skilled, strong fighters…men like me, and I’m twice the size of him. I hate to admit it even to myself, but I know in a few weeks I’ll be informing his parents of his demise.

  “Go for it,” I shout as Kuo and Zhàn bow to each other before raising their swords.

  The weapon Zhàn uses catches my eye. Honor, truth, and justice. With an inscription like that on it, it must have been presented by Gaozu or his predecessor to one of the boy’s ancestors. Maybe there’s hope, if we can bulk him up a bit.

  At first, the fight is nothing special. Kuo keeps pushing, and Zhàn backs off. Eventually, Kuo appears to grow bored with this and loses his form as he presses forward into Zhàn. The young boy then demonstrates amazing skills—flattening his body underneath the thrusting blade of Kuo’s sword, he then jumps up and spins in front of the bigger man before scoring a hit to Kuo’s body.

  I lean forward on my chair. This is interesting. Resting my chin on my hand, I watch as Zhàn scores point after point with incredible sword skills. I’ve never seen anything like it before in someone so young, and because he’s so small, he’s light as a feather, flying through the air with ease. Kuo finally concedes defeat at a score of ten to nil.

  I push up and stroll over to the boy, ordering the other two men to run the assault course a couple of times more, even though Kuo is already exhausted.

  “Where did you learn to fight like that?” I take the sword out of Zhàn’s hand and examine the inscription on it.

  “From my father, sir. The sword was presented to my grandfather. They were both loyal Yi Shu soldiers. I hope to follow in their footsteps and help to preserve our way of life.”

  “Hmm.” I hand the sword back and stroke my chin as I examine the boy more closely.

  I can’t help thinking there’s something strange about him. He’s from a prestigious line of fighters, but he has no muscle or weight. Is he a genetic anomaly? He’s small but demonstrates the skills of an expert fighter. I need to do more research on his family, but for now, he needs to improve his strength.

  “I’ve got a task for you.” I point over to where several boxes of food need moving into the canteen area. They won’t be light, but transporting them will teach him perseverance and improve his strength. “I want you to take all of them into the kitchen. When you’re done, you are to return here and run the assault course three times before you are allowed to take an hour break. This afternoon, we’ll work on your fitness, but I can already tell you’re going to be an asset to my team. Well done.”

  “Thank you, sir.” The boy bows to me, his eyes wide with shock at the praise I’ve given him. “I won’t let you down.”

  As I watch the youngster race off with enthusiasm and joy at what he’s doing, I can’t help being reminded of myself as a child. I was playing a part of someone I wasn’t until Gaozu took me in. He made me a man, and Zhàn may have just become my project to do the same for him.

  I stand in front of a sea of kneeling men bowed down to me—their leader, their god. I’m dressed all in black, a black t-shirt and jeans. In the glare of the sunshine and the dust of a dry winter’s day in Los Angeles, it’s evident who the man with the power is here.

  The men’s families line the sides of the road to wish them well for the future as I guide them on the path to victory over the inferior Yi Shu. A faction that cares more for ancient tradition in a country where we need to adapt to survive. We need to fill our pockets with as much money as possible, so we can increase the superiority of the Jīn Long in comparison to the Americans already here and prospering. We’ll sell whatever supplies we can, legal or not, to take over California and make it a new China—one where I rule, and all will bow to me. I will be their king.

  “Welcome.” I hold my head high, my expression smug on my face as I address those assembled.

  I don’t tell the men they can stand up. No, I’ll keep them on their knees for as l
ong as possible. It’s the only way to instill respect into them. “I’m Wang, the leader of the Jīn Long. I will be the one to bring untold wealth and valuable, new land to our people. We’ll take control of California and rule over it as we choose for the benefit of our people, and the men kneeling here before me will be the ones to achieve it.”

  The elite guards surrounding me, who are standing because I allow them to, cheer. It brings forth only subdued shouts of joy from the crowd, which infuriates me. They should be elated I’m taking them into a new and better world where we’ll be the rulers for once. I step down from the platform I’m standing on, my heavy boots clomping on the ground as I walk toward the rows upon rows of men. My nostrils flare as I listen to my guards trying to rouse them in a chorus of cheers again. It doesn’t work, though. Eventually, I stop in front of one kneeling man—his head is still bowed, but I can tell no sounds are coming from his mouth. He’s silent and not celebrating my prowess like he should be.

  “Up,” I order him, and he jumps to his feet and salutes me. “Why don’t you cheer for me?”

  He gulps, and I watch his Adam’s apple bobbing in fear. He’s terrified, and I’m surprised he’s not pissing himself.

  “I’m sorry, gracious leader. I’m nervous because I’ve never fought before. I work in the factories…”

  I wave my hand in front of him to silence him. I don’t want to hear his life story and his excuses for being afraid. He could be fresh from his mother’s breast, and I wouldn’t care. All I want to know is why he isn’t more enthusiastic about my vision of a better world.

  “There is no reason to be nervous. We’re all powerful here. Gods among scum. The Yi Shu want to maintain their traditions and live in peace among the other occupants of these lands. But they are all inferior to the Jīn Long, and we need to be rid of them. There is no more noble a death than to die for a just cause. You should not be nervous. You should rejoice at the chance to bow before me now, and when the battle is won, you can worship me as the new King of California.”

  “I do, I do. I promise, sir.” The man lowers his head again and drops back down to his knees without my permission. He then reaches out and kisses my dust covered boots. “You are great, and I rejoice at your power. I’ll not be nervous again. I worry about my family—there’s only my mother and sister. I’m sorry, sir. I know you’ll protect them. You’re magnificent.”

  My ego should be inflated at his praise, but when I look around at the other men nearby, their heads are cocked slightly, watching what is happening. Their eyes are wide open, conveying their own fears. I can’t have an army that’s afraid. We’ll be defeated before I ever get a chance to rule. They fear death more than they fear me. I’m a phenomenon greater than death, and I must demonstrate that to them.

  “Get up,” I sternly order the man again. He gets to his feet, no longer worshiping me. “You mention your family. This sister and mother you speak of, are they here today?”

  “Yes, sir.” He searches through the faces in the crowd and points out an older woman and a plain-looking girl of little more than eighteen.

  “Follow me.”

  Turning on my heels, I stride confidently toward the woman and girl while the man runs along behind me. I motion for a couple of my guards to follow.

  “All of you, on your feet,” I command the other men as I walk.

  When I approach the woman and the girl, they bow down to me.

  “Gracious leader,” the woman addresses me.

  “Stand,” I order, and they both stand bolt upright.

  “Your mother and sister?” I ask the man.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And your father?”

  “He died in your service, during a battle with the Yi Shu. The blond demon, he killed my father like so many before and after him.”

  I can hear the anger laced in the man’s words. I doubt the blond demon, the man I know as Jaxon, willingly killed his father. It would have been as punishment for some cowardly or despicable act that his father died. Jaxon doesn’t kill if he doesn’t have to. It’s a weakness I hope to exploit when I kill him myself.

  I rub my bearded chin with my hand. A plait sits there as a sign of my power—it’s the longest in the faction.

  “Since your father died, you’ve had to work in the factory to provide an income for your family. But now you must step up to take your father’s place in the army, leaving your mother and sister without money.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That is a dilemma. I can see why you worry.”

  “Thank you, sir.” The man bows to me again. His mother and sister do the same.

  “It can easily be resolved, though.”

  Two of the guards with me grab the man and hold him still. Everyone around us is silent as I reach out and pull the man’s sister to me before throwing her down onto her knees on the ground.

  “No,” the man screams but instantly silences when a knife is held to his throat.

  “Please, no, gracious leader.” The mother must realize what I intend to do. She throws herself to her knees and pushes herself in front of her daughter. “I’ll take her place. I’ll earn the money while my son fights.”

  I slap the older woman hard across the face, and she falls to the ground.

  “I don’t want an old hag and none of my men will either. I’m leading us all to glory, yet I’m thwarted by obstinacy and cowardice at every turn. I will not have it,” I spit at the mother. “You want to earn money, you’ll do it on the streets of our Chinatown with the rest of the whores who’ve lost everything when their families refused to see my vision.” I pull the daughter to the forefront again. She’s whimpering as she lies prostrate on the ground, tears filling her eyes.

  “On your knees, girl,” I order through gritted teeth, my words full of retribution.

  She doesn’t move but cries more. Her reticence inflames my anger, and I draw the sword at my waist. Before anyone can stop me, I thrust it into her mother’s chest. The woman gags, blood pouring from her mouth as her son and daughter both scream for her. I pull the sword out, and she collapses backward, dead on the ground. The crowd takes a step back.

  “On your knees, girl,” I order again, pointing my sword at the chest of man who started all this with his reluctance to praise me.

  The girl scrambles to her knees and waits for what will come next. I place my sword away but motion for another guard to come and stand watch over her brother. Stepping forward, I remove my dick from my jeans.

  “You’ll suck it until I cum down your throat and christen you as a whore for the Jīn Long. Your brother tells me you need to earn money? Well you will as one of the women I keep for the officers. When they tire of you, I’ll let the other men who support my vision have whatever fun they want with you on your back.”

  I position my already hard dick against her lips, and she opens her mouth, knowing if she fights me, I’ll kill her brother.

  “Bite me, and he’ll die.” I make sure she understands the terms of what is about to happen.

  Wrapping my hands in her long black hair, I thrust into her mouth and take pleasure for myself. She gags as I push far into the back of her throat. She can’t move, pinned to the spot taking everything I have to give to her. My orgasm blasts from my balls in a powerful explosion of my dominance, and she’s forced to swallow it all.

  When I’m finished, I pull out of her and tuck myself back in my pants. My point to those who follow me has been made perfectly. The reluctance of my men to cheer me had left me in a bad mood, but I’m relaxed now and ready to give the final blow to their spirits and make them eternally slaves to my vision of life.

  “You and you.” I point to two of my favorite generals. “She has two other holes. You may take her virginity in front of everyone here before settling her into her new life in the whore’s quarters. Both men step forward eagerly, undoing their pants ready to give a demonstration. I turn and head back toward my platform with a big malevolent smile on my face for a j
ob well done.

  “Gracious leader.” One of my guards stops me. “What about him, the brother?”

  Damn, his sister gave me such a good blow job I’d forgotten about him. I turn back to the guard and make the signal to end the man’s life, swiping my hand like a pretend blade across my throat. My guard follows my orders while the man’s sister screams in agony as she’s taken roughly and publicly by two of my generals.

  I climb back up onto the platform and resume my speech.

  “Where were we?” I question to nobody in particular. “Oh yes, I will be King of California. I’ll rule and be all powerful. Who’s with me?”

  This time, the noise from the sea of men in front of me and their families is deafening.

  I watch as Zhàn performs the assault course perfectly. He’s really improved his fitness within a week, and I’m impressed with him. He’s the one member of my team who’s been training constantly from first light until dark. He may be small, but I’d prefer to stand with him at my side in a fight than with Kuo and his friend. They have too much self-importance, and it will be their downfall. Our way of life is about humility, and Zhàn has it in bundles. I find myself clapping as he gets to the end of the course and performs a back flip off a tall bar before landing perfectly on his feet with his sword drawn and ready to fight any possible intruders.

  “Congratulations.” I slap him on the back, and he jumps forward with a cough, reminding me of how fragile he still is in comparison to my bulky six-foot plus muscular frame. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, sir.” He coughs again.

  “You’re doing really well. I’m beyond surprised at your progression. You’re more than ready to go into the battlefield now. You’ll make your family proud.”

  “I hope so, sir.”

  I watch as Zhàn places his sword back into its scabbard. There’s still something unsettling about him I can’t shake—something isn’t right, but it’s not anything I can place, and all my research into his father and grandfather has been positive. They were both model fighters for the Yi Shu, highly decorated and well respected. They were much bigger men than Zhàn, but then you can’t control genetics. He must take after his mother’s side of the family. They must be smaller framed. It’s a shame. If he had my physique, he’d be unstoppable. Then again, it could be his lighter frame that makes him such a skilled fighter.