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
