Xue Lanfa jerked her sword free of the gangly elder, allowing his body to slump to the bloodied grass. Beyond it, the wounded master of the Demon Ghost cult halted his staggering retreat and smiled grimly. “Your swordsmanship truly is without peer, Lady Xue. I would not regret dying at your hand.”

She lunged, sword pointed straight ahead. “But our battle is not decided yet!” her enemy said, as he blew poisonous gas at her with a double-handed palm strike. She spun her sword in a conical motion, dispersing the fumes, and powered forward. The Demon Ghost master caught her blade between his hands, its tip inches from his face as the momentum of her charge bore him back. She twisted the double-edged weapon and yanked it away, slicing his palms to the bone. Then she thrust, transfixing his heart.

Lanfa glanced over the quiet, corpse-strewn hillside and sank wearily to her rear. She had finally taken revenge for her master and peers, but felt more uncertainty than satisfaction. She had not even enjoyed the responsibilities of being a senior disciple in her school, yet would be its new head once she got back. How had her humble desire to learn self-defense led her to this? Though her few wounds were not serious, she took her time wrapping them. She almost wished they were worse, so she could have an excuse for more time to rest and think.

Using her teeth to tighten a rag around a last cut on her arm, Lanfa sheathed her sword and stood. What use were prodigious fighting skills, if all they could do was avenge wrongs already done? She would have rather had the persuasive ability to convince her comrades of their danger before it was too late.

“Master, master!” she heard a high voice cry as she started away. “Wait for me, master!”

She looked to see, crawling towards her, a young boy with a painted face and ritual scarring on his bare chest. Though no more than nine or ten, he had all the trappings of a vicious Demon Ghost member. She remembered when she had, reluctant to kill him, knocked him unconscious early during the battle. “Who are you calling master?” she asked, frowning warily.

“You, of course. My master said whoever killed him would get everything he had, and since you did, you have me.”

“Are you serious?” His serious expression told her he was. “I free you, then.” She hardly needed another young disciple to take care of, never mind one from his background.

“Free me? I’m not a slave. My master taught me martial arts and rules of life.” Not very good ones in the latter case, she was sure. “Now that he’s dead, you get to take his place.”

She blinked. “Do you actually want me to? Aren’t you angry at all that I killed your master?”

“Maybe I should be, but I’m really not. He always hurt me.”

Lanfa put hands on her hips and nodded. “All right. My first command as your master is . . . you’re dismissed.”

“What?!” he asked in a voice shrill with panic. “You can’t do that! Where am I supposed to go?”

“What about your parents? Can’t you go home to them?”

“My master told me they were dead.”

Knowing what she did about the Demon Ghost cult, he might well have killed them himself. “What about other family? Do you know if you have any living?”

“I don’t know.” He dropped his gaze, as if to hide the moisture in his eyes. “All I have right now is you.”

Lanfa fell silent, looking skyward. She could lose him easily, but would feel bad about abandoning even a cultist child. “What if I helped you find your family?” She was not ready to go home yet, anyway. “Would you agree to leave me then?”

He pouted. “I don’t want to find my family. I want to learn martial arts!”

“I don’t . . . have any room to take on new students.” She was not even sure she was qualified to keep the ones she would have. “But your family could get you a teacher, right?”

“Not as good as you. Don’t they say you’re the best swordsman in the world?”

“I don’t know, there are a lot of swordsmen in the world. The best swordswoman, perhaps. In any case, I’m not accepting students. So do you want my help or not?”

“All right, I guess, if I can’t change your mind.”

She let him fume a bit, then asked, “What’s your name? Seems you already know mine.”

“I think my parents called me Fengshan, but I haven’t heard that in years. Most of the brothers called me Little Scab.”

“Fengshan it is, then.” Cautiously, she shook his extended hand. “Can you walk?” Still unsure of his motives, she did not want to carry him and risk tempting him to sneak attack her with that little dagger in his belt.


Fengshan recalled his village’s name as Spring Valley, and once they got to town Lanfa began researching its whereabouts. People were generally quick to answer her questions, thanks to her reputation. “It is Lady Xue the Cold-Hearted!” she overheard a waitress whisper to a colleague at the first tavern they visited. “The one who massacred thirty-nine seniors of the Gray Mountain clan.”

“Why did you do it?” Fengshan asked. “You don’t seem like you’d kill for no reason, but that’s what they say.”

Lanfa exhaled. “I found out they were plotting to murder my master, but couldn’t get any hard evidence. So of course I had to act anyway, and now people think it was unprovoked . . .”

“But didn’t your master die soon after that anyway?” His tone was not critical, but genuinely curious. “Do you think it was worth it?”

“I don’t regret it. What else could I have done, sat around knowing what I did and done nothing?”

Investigation revealed that Spring Valley was located near the desert to the west, which made sense considering Fengshan’s darkish skin. When she tried to head out, though, she found him rather uncooperative. “I don’t want to go!” he said, clinging to her leg and refusing to budge. “It’s too hot over there, and I doubt anybody wants me back after all this time. Why can’t I just stay with you?”

Lanfa looked away. “I wouldn’t be a good caretaker for you.” She had too much waiting for her to do already. “You’d be better off with family.”

“But what if nobody takes me? Will I end up in an orphanage?”

Even if he did, they would probably both be better off. “I’m sure we can find someone more qualified to raise you than me.”

“I’m scared,” he whined, hugging her leg tighter. “Promise me you won’t leave me in an orphanage.”

“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “If we can’t find your family, I’ll still make sure you end up with a good couple willing to be your parents.”

They set off for Spring Valley, and hours later came to an old wood bridge over a dried up stream. Lanfa heard heavy breathing close by, but pretended she did not. They had made it halfway across when the expected ambushers climbed up from the sides of the bridge, surrounding them. “We have been waiting for you, Xue Lanfa,” rasped a tattoo-faced speaker, who she recognized as elder Yan Shendook of Demon Ghost. Among his cohorts stood several cult veterans, but none of those left would present a great challenge. His eyes fixed on Fengshan. “And what are you doing with her, little brother?”

“She’s my master,” he said too proudly, “and should be yours, too.” Was he that obsessed with fighting ability? “She did kill Master, and he said whoever did that would win all he had.”

“Silly child. He didn’t mean that literally. Demon Ghost lives on!”

“You should accept her. She could teach you the skills that beat Master.”

Lanfa would certainly not have welcomed a bunch of adult cultists to join her Moonlight Sword school, even had they wanted to. As things stood, she was almost relieved to hear Shendook say, “Enough nonsense. Get her!”

No cultist moved. “Should we really do this?” a stocky warrior asked. “It might be suicide. She killed Master.”

Fengshan grinned widely. “Surrender and call my master Master, and maybe she’ll spare you.”

Lanfa might spare those who surrendered, but had no desire for anyone to call her Master. “Get on my back,” she told Fengshan, now trusting him more knowing his admiration for her, “and hold tight.” He did so, and with a yell of “Run or die!” she charged.

The mob before her wavered, their front line bending back as she charged its center. “Kill her,” Yan Shendook said then, “and prove your right to lead us.” At that, two of Demon Ghost’s boldest fighters leapt over their comrades’ heads to meet her. She dodged several swings of sword and axe, then slashed one foe down the length of his torso. Before he could even fall, she sidestepped the other man’s chopping blow and gutted him.

Cries of “Brother Tong!” and “Brother Yip!” went up among the cultists, and several made to flee. “Are you all cowards?” Shendook demanded from behind a tenuous wall of followers. “Fine, we’ll change plans then. Now, swordsman!”

Lanfa jumped back as a tall figure erupted through the bridge at her feet, flying straight up before reversing into a dive. She parried rapid jabs from a flexible sword, which flicked from side to side as its masked wielder hovered above her. A powerful opponent, who she might not easily handle with a child on her back. As he bore no obvious cult markings, she figured him to be outside help.

Shendook’s shout made things worse, as he urged his companions to “Get her now, while she’s distracted!” She knocked her airborne assailant up and away with a hard parry, then made a mighty spinning slash which sent energy ripping outward through the nearest men. Bodies thumped down around her. The masked swordsman dove at her again, shaking the bridge as he landed before her. She blocked his lunging slice, then kicked backwards into a cultist’s midriff. Elbowing the swordsman aside, she ducked a slash from behind and reversed her blade to impale another attacker.

More foes moved in. Lanfa dashed forward, cutting down man after man. Hearing footsteps close behind, she turned and threw a low energy wave which tore the legs out from underneath a trio of pursuers. The masked swordsman returned to the attack, pressing her with repeated thrusts. Cultists took advantage of her full hands, their weapons striking at her from all sides.

She weaved desperately among the blades, but could not avoid taking several hits. Wet warmth tickling her skin, she screamed and lashed out wildly. “Yes, kill them, kill them!” Fengshan whooped as blood sprayed over her face. The swordsman stabbed into her upper chest, forcing a gasp from her lips. She punched him with her hilt, throwing him from the bridge. As he splashed into the water, she caught five weapons on her sword and jerked them all aside. Her next swipe dropped an equal number of men.

The remaining enemies stopped, hesitating as Lanfa leveled her sword at them. Fengshan was growing heavy on her back as she continued to bleed, but she blinked to clear clouding eyes and smirked. “So . . . which of you wants to die next?”

Her words had the intended effect on those cultists who turned and fled, but a handful committed themselves to a last offense. She leapt into the air as they approached, smashing faces one by one with a series of bone-crushing kicks, and landed before most of their corpses did. Looking around, she saw that she and Fengshan were now alone with the dead. Shendook, not surprisingly, was not among them.

“You can get off now,” she gasped as she collapsed to one knee. She pressed a hand to her gushing wound and winced, blood dripping over her lower lip. The masked swordsman had made what should have been an easy battle costly to her body, and she hoped he was dead. “Sorry you had to see that.”

Fengshan slid off her back and knelt to check a cultist for loot. “No problem,” he said without a hint of distress. “You were awesome!” At a loss as to how to fix his corrupt mind, she gave a helpless sigh and turned her attention to herself.

He later offered to share what he had found; at least he showed her that much respect. She took the more suspicious weapons and vials, if only to keep poison out of his young hands.

They had not spent long on the road before they saw Yan Shendook again, standing on the other side of a wide ravine. “Xue Lanfa,” he said with a taunting smile. “I must thank you for the extraordinary performance you gave today.”

“Oh? How crazy have you gone, to be so happy when I’ve ruined your plan?”

Shendook threw his head back and laughed. “Ruined? On the contrary. You’ve helped me a great deal by thinning out my competition for the chieftainship of Demon Ghost.”

She glared at him. “You wanted your people to get killed? A devious plan, but what makes you think you’ll escape with your life after showing your face to me?”

“Oh, I’ll do better than to merely escape. By finishing you off, I will secure my claim to my position.” He raised two handfuls of poisoned darts. “Now, swordsman!”

They were both surprised when, even after a wait of several seconds, nothing happened.

“Where are you?” Shendook snapped. “How can you just desert me like this?”

Though puzzled as to what was going on, Lanfa intended to take full advantage of her good fortune. “Not so cocky now, are we? Come on, rally your courage and throw those puny darts!”

He did, and they bounced like pebbles off the wall of her spun blade. Then she drew her sword back, and his eyes widened in disbelief. “What are you doing?” he asked as he began to backpedal. “You can’t possibly project your chi that far . . .”

She thrust, and the line of energy that launched defied his words. It plowed through him before he could run, and blood poured from his gaping mouth as he toppled to the ground.

“Amazing!” Fengshan beamed. “Even Master couldn’t do that. But where did his masked friend go?”

“I don’t know. He must have been around, for Shendook to sound so confident.”

“Maybe he was scared off by your prowess.”

Without answering, she replaced her sword and walked on. It would have been the best case if he was right, but the slight shuffling she heard in the brush nearby told her otherwise.


Lanfa traveled three hours aware of the presence trailing her before she could stand it no longer. She turned to throw a sword blast which felled a stand of small trees, revealing the masked swordsman concealed behind them. “It is you,” she said with a flustered scowl. “Why didn’t you act before, and why are you still following me?”

“Of course I didn’t act before. You think I want to help that old fool kill you?”

“I thought that was why he hired you.”

He nodded. “Yes—but not the reason I’m here. Besides, he paid me half in advance.”

“Then why are you here? What do you want with me?”

“I really admire you,” he said in a wistful tone. “It’s my dream to duel one like you.”

Fengshan butted in. “Didn’t you already fight my master? As I remember, you lost.”

“That wasn’t a real battle. I was just testing you, making sure you were as good as I’d heard. Because I didn’t want to risk wasting my life against less than the worthiest opponent.”

Lanfa had no idea what he was talking about. Hadn’t he already risked his life against her? And how might an opponent still be considered “unworthy” if they managed to kill him? Maybe he desired a specific kind of fight. “What exactly are you seeking?”

“A one-on-one duel to the death, with no cheap tricks and no running away. Only under those conditions do I believe we can get the true measure of master swordsmen such as ourselves.”

She shrugged. “If you want to fight me, you’re free to attack. I’m not much for tricks, and I doubt I’ll be running away.”

“No, not now. You’re wounded, and I don’t want anything from you but your best. I’ve searched too long for an opponent who might be my match, to squander my one opportunity with you like this.” His eyes bored into hers. “All I want now, is your promise to meet me under my preferred conditions when you are fully recovered.”

There seemed nothing unfair in the fight he sought, but Lanfa thought it rather wasteful for either of them to die just for the sake of comparing skills. “I’d be open to having a duel, but does it have to be to the death? I’m not very motivated to kill you, considering there’s no grudge between us.”

“You can spare me if you wish. But expect to die if you lose.”

That was hardly right. “And if I win, will that be the end of all this?”

“Yes—unless someday, I have improved enough to warrant a rematch.”

Perhaps she would be justified in killing him to remove this nuisance. Or, at least, disabling him enough to keep him from dueling anymore. He had probably caused his share of unnecessary deaths. “I think you’re insane, you know that? How many opponents have you found willing to agree to this?”

“Plenty, though I doubt they expected to lose. So, do you agree or not?”

While not greatly opposed to fighting him, Lanfa did not necessarily intend to abide strict rules barring the use of dirty tricks or running away. A practical girl like her would hardly be constrained by such products of manly pride, but do whatever it took to meet her needs. “Yes. Find me when my wounds are healed, and we’ll have this duel.”

“Good,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. Had he sensed something off in her voice? “I knew you’d come around.” He leapt smoothly away, disappearing into the trees.

“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?” Fengshan asked enthusiastically. “I hope I’m there to see!”

She wished otherwise, and that he would be safe in a good home by then. Then again, seeing one more death probably wouldn’t much harm him.


“So what was your last name?” Lanfa asked Fengshan as they arrived at the drought-parched outskirts of Spring Valley. The feminine dress she had changed into felt cumbersome on her athletic frame, but she hoped it would make her less recognizable as herself.

“I don’t remember.”

“How can you remember your first name and that of your town, but not your surname?”

“I forgot,” he said without looking at her. “I guess I didn’t hear it used much. Do we have to keep going? I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay, and learn martial arts.”

Lanfa gave him a harsh look. “You mean after coming this far, you want us to turn back? Wouldn’t all the trouble I’ve encountered been for nothing, then?”

“You would’ve had to face those enemies sooner or later. Can’t we please stop? I’ll do anything you want, just take me as your student!”

“Are you sure you don’t remember your last name?”

“No.” He fell silent, leaving her to wonder if he was wasting her time on purpose.


It was after they reached town, and Lanfa took a break from investigating to use a tavern restroom, that the tall man approached Fengshan. “You’re the masked swordsman, aren’t you? Are you looking for my master?”

He smiled appreciatively. “You are perceptive, but the answer to your second question is no. I’m looking for you.”

Fengshan perked up with surprise. “Me? Why?”

“I’m afraid your master’s heart might not be with this duel.” He knelt and put a hand on Fengshan’s shoulder. “So I want you to help me.”

“How?”

“By making her want to kill me.”

He took a step back. “That’s really what you want? Alright, doesn’t seem too hard. But what do I get in return?”

“Well, what do you want?”

“I want to learn powerful martial arts!”

The man chuckled and held up a small vial. “There I can help you. Now, here’s what you need to do . . .”


At the noise of a commotion outside, Lanfa rushed out of the restroom. Pushing her way through a small crowd, she came into view of Fengshan lying on the ground with blood oozing from his mouth. When she checked, she found that he no longer breathed. “Who did this?” she demanded of the onlookers. “What kind of monster would just go and murder a little boy?”

“There was a masked man,” a waitress said. “He came through the front door, struck the boy with a palm, and ran right back out. It happened so fast, nobody could even try to stop him.”

“Masked man? Was he tall, with unruly hair?”

“Yes, that was him. Is there some vendetta between you two?”

Now there was. Lanfa knew the slaying of Fengshan to only be a way to goad her into hating him, yet it could do nothing but work. Heartless devil! All at once it had become her mission to make sure he never harmed another innocent again, even if that was what he actually wanted.

She left town in a hurry, and never knew when Fengshan’s body was stolen from the graveyard.


They set the duel for a month later, Lanfa barely controlling her rage to keep from prematurely attacking when she saw him. Knowing his obsession, she trusted him not to run during his scheduled execution. The appointed date came, and they met at sunset in the yard of an abandoned mountain temple. Through the cold winds she heard someone’s excitedly rapid breathing, but judged the spectator unlikely to pose a threat. “At last,” the now unmasked swordsman said with a flourish of his sword, “our contest begins.” He was handsome and noble of face, but her awareness of his cruelty negated what charms he might have had. “Do you have any last requests in case you lose?”

“If I die? I want you . . . to kill yourself!” She charged, her sword red as her anger in the fading sun.

They clashed, her initial flurry of furious blows forcing him back. He leaned back low, slashing at her belly as she glided over him. Lanfa twisted aside, the blade grazing her robe, and thrust down at his neck. He rolled out of the way of repeated stabs, then spun up like a whirlwind. She blocked his twirling sword and send him flying away with a kick to the midsection. Landing precariously on the short wall around the edge of the yard, he caught his balance and smiled.

“Excellent, Lady Xue! I would be honored to die against you.” With that he pounced from the wall, swooping at her like a steel-clawed hawk.

Lanfa retreated before his humming sword, the metal vibrating with his channeled power. Its tip scratched her shoulder twice, before she backflipped into a kick which launched him straight up. She jumped after him, beating at his wavering guard. He smashed her down with a palm to the chest, then dove sword-first seeking her heart. The flat of her blade bent under his point and rebounded to bounce him back. She kipped up into a head butt, knocking him away as he landed, and followed up with a sword blast. He recovered and threw one of his own, and the energies cancelled each other out.

The duel continued, the two flying around like dancing gods. They fought through the night, sun giving way to moon and back again, but in the morning the swordsman’s stamina began to fail. Lanfa drove him back across the yard, cutting him repeatedly past his slowing defense. He stabbed at her gut, but she twisted aside and elbowed him against the wall.

“No!” she heard a familiar voice yell as she raised her sword, and her eyes found the sight of Fengshan running out from behind a temple pillar. “Don’t kill him!” He was alive?! What was going on, and why was he with him?

In her moment of distraction, she failed to notice her opponent’s next thrust. His sword slid between her ribs, and her breath caught in her throat. “Oh no,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean-”

Lanfa brought her arm down, snapping the sword near the hilt, and landed a jumping kick to his head which knocked him over the wall. Then she turned to Fengshan and fell, clutching the blade through her ribs. “Why?” she gasped wetly. “Why did you fool me?”

“I’m sorry!” he said, his face aghast and voice shaking. “I d-didn’t mean to harm you. I just wanted him to teach me martial arts.” And he sprinted away in tears.

“Wait!” she cried, reaching towards him with a trembling hand. “Come back . . .” Then her strength gave out, and her arm fell.


Three months had passed since the news of Xue Lanfa’s death spread through the martial world. Fengshan looked up the hill towards the Moonlight Sword school and swallowed. He had made a terrible mistake, and would atone for it even if it cost him his life. He was about to start up the steps when a hand around his arm stopped him. “Master?!” he breathed, perplexed as he regarded the figure behind him. “I thought you were dead.”

“Me, go down that easily?” Lanfa shook her head. “See, I told you not to run.”

“But the whole world thinks you died. What about the swordsman? He’s alive, and claims that he killed you.”

“Yes, well, he helped me fake my death.” She grinned. “Turns out he didn’t want to kill me or anyone at all, but just had a death wish due to a past failure. I talked him out of it.”

Fengshan threw himself into her arms. “I’m glad you’re fine. But why’d you take so long to find me again?”

“You can be pretty elusive, and I did get run through the chest. Now, let’s get out of here before my former disciples decide to flog you for getting me killed.” Taking his arm, she dragged him away from her old school.

“Why did you fake your death? You had your share of influence before.”

Though she knew many would deem her irresponsible, she had always been a creature bound only by her own will. “I wasn’t free to choose my own path, with the obligations I had as Xue Lanfa. Now, as Pearl Light, I am.”

“That’s your new name? It doesn’t sound very intimidating.” Fengshan’s eyes brightened with hope. “So now that you don’t have any other students, will you teach me?”

“You still want to learn from me?” He nodded vigorously. The willful stubbornness he showed did remind her of herself. Plus, they had gone too far from Spring Valley and she did not want to travel the hundreds of miles back. “All right,” she said with a smile, “I’ll give you a chance. But only as long as you treat my advice about life, with the same respect you do for my martial prowess.”

 

# # #

Unwelcome Admirations by Billy Wong
originally published June 23, 2008

 

 


Billy Wong is an avid fan of heroic fantasy, with a special love for hardcore warriors of the fairer sex. His fiction has appeared in Literal Translations, Blazing Adventures Magazine, Afterburn SF, Niteblade Fantasy and Horror Magazine, Wanderings, Sorcerous Signals, The Written Word, Tower of Light Fantasy Magazine, and Golden Visions Magazine.  

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Unwelcome Admirations

 

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