Eagle (15 page)

Tonglong knew that you could tell a lot about a person by watching him or her fight. Some fighters were constantly on the attack, while others were counter punchers. Some committed to a technique and followed through, while others primarily used feints.

Some were very technical, while others were brawlers who lived for the lucky punch.

It was said that Golden Dragon was a technical counterpuncher who committed. The hairy foreigner was rumored to be just the opposite. To the uninformed, this might sound like an interesting match. In real life, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

The foreigner quickly grew tired of Golden Drag on's hypnotic movements and dropped his hands, running straight at Golden Dragon, attempting to tackle him. Golden Dragon backed up to the perimeter wall and sank low, then rose high into the air with a powerful leap that took him clear over the foreigner. Unable to stop his own forward momentum, the foreigner crashed into the solid brick wall with a loud
THUD!

The crowd roared with laughter.

Tonglong was not amused. He'd noticed that Golden Dragon had had the perfect opportunity to kick his opponent in the head as he flew over, which would have inflicted significant damage. However, Golden Dragon had held back. Allowing a fight to continue a moment longer than necessary could mean the difference between life and death. Golden Dragon was intelligent enough to know this. He was up to something.

The foreigner turned to face Golden Dragon.

Again, Golden Dragon sank low.

The foreigner rushed toward Golden Dragon, and Golden Dragon unleashed a powerful roundhouse
kick. Tonglong could clearly see the momentum build from Golden Dragon's foot, up through his leg, into his hip, and around his waist—then back out the same way, like a dragon whipping its tail. The kick should have cracked the foreigner's skull in two. Instead, Golden Dragon's foot only grazed the burly man's forehead, stunning him.

The crowd gasped.

Tonglong's eyes narrowed. It took incredible skill and precision to graze someone's head like that.

The foreigner wobbled, and the crowd began to chant, “Finish him! Finish him! Finish him!”

Golden Dragon's jaw tightened visibly. Tonglong watched him cock back his right arm, form a dragon fist, and let it fly. The raised middle-finger knuckle of Golden Dragon's fist bounced off the side of the foreigner's head, and the big man crashed to the ground, out like a flame in a windstorm.

The crowd roared its approval.

Tonglong shook his head. These peasants had no idea what had just happened. Golden Dragon could have finished the foreigner any number of ways—for good—but instead he'd simply knocked the man out.

Tonglong leaned toward his mother. “Did you see that?” he whispered.

“Yesss,” AnGangseh replied. “The boy did not wish to harm his opponent. There is sssomething about that child I do not trust.”

“Me neither,” Tonglong said. “We must keep an eye on him.”

“Agreed,” AnGangseh said.

The Emperor leaned his regal head back toward Tonglong. “Discussing anything interesting?”

“Just commenting on the boy's extraordinary ssskill, Your Highness.”

“Indeed,” the Emperor said with a sniff. “He has a bright future ahead of him.” The Emperor turned away.

There were a few more fights scheduled for the night, but Tonglong was beginning to feel restless. Not long ago, he had received reports that Ying and Hok had been sighted walking along the canal front right here in Xuzhou. They were moving quickly and had managed to slip away through the crowd before Tong-long's men could react. However, Tonglong was confident Ying and Hok would be found. It was just a matter of time.

As though it were a sign from the heavens, AnGangseh tapped Tonglong gently on the knee and pointed discreetly toward the fight club's main door.

Tonglong looked over to see a very excited soldier in the doorway. The man signaled for Tonglong to join him. Tonglong could tell from the soldier's expression what news he possessed.

Ying had been sighted again.

Tonglong excused himself and headed for the entrance.

Y
ing pushed his way through Xuzhou's narrow back-streets, light-headed and dizzy. He felt as if he needed to throw up. Hok hurried behind him, carrying the bag of powdered dragon bone they'd taken from the pet vendor, along with Ying's bag of coins, plus her own. They'd been running for more than an hour, but the pet vendor's words still rang clearly in Ying's head. He'd spoken with the man for less than a quarter of an hour, but he knew that that short conversation had changed his life forever.

“Slow down, Ying,” Hok said. “The danger is behind us. You should rest and try to clear your head. Trust me, I know what you are going through.”

Ying stopped and turned to Hok. He was breathing
heavily, his bruised ribs and injured shoulder screaming at him every time he inhaled. “You don't know a thing about what I'm going through.”

“Ying, please—”

Ying snatched his bag of coins from Hok and walked away, adjusting the scarf across his face. He saw an ancient woman ahead, hunched over a small basket that had steam pouring out of the top and hot coals beneath it. Dinner buns. Good. Some food might make his dizziness go away. He approached the old woman and bought everything she had—three buns filled with chicken and three with sweet red-bean paste. After paying, Ying shoved the bean-paste buns at his vegetarian former sister. “Stay close to me and keep your mouth shut,” he said.

Ying continued on and soon found a small, out-of-the-way alley off a dark section of street. Even the brilliant moon's rays couldn't reach into its depths. Ying sat down and took a huge bite of dinner bun. It was rather flavorless, but at least it was warm and filling. He had hoped to finish it in peace and quiet, but it seemed Hok had other plans.

“We need to talk,” Hok said.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Ying replied.

“You've just been through a lot,” Hok said. “Let me help you.”

Ying didn't respond.

“The pet vendor said that your mother lives at the end of the Grand Canal,” Hok said. “Let's go there.”

“What makes you think I want to see her?”

“I would want to see
my
mother.”

“I thought you came on this trip to help Seh.”

“I did, but I don't think Seh will be any worse off if I wait a few extra weeks, or even longer, to begin giving him powdered dragon bone as a treatment. Let me help you first.”

Ying noticed that his hands were still shaking. He curled back his upper lip, angry that Hok was pushing him and upset that she was seeing him like this. “Why do you keep wanting to help me? Don't say that's just what people do. I don't buy it.”

“People should help one another,” Hok said, “and you obviously could use some help. It's that simple. You can accept my words or disregard them. Believe what you want to believe. That's what you're going to do, anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You've never listened to anyone, no matter how good the advice.”

“That's because most people are stupid.”

Hok stared, unblinking, at him. “You are very clever, Ying. No one will deny that. However, just because you are smarter than most people does not mean that most people are stupid.”

“Leave me alone.”

“No.”

Ying took another bite of his dinner bun. “I hate you,” he mumbled.

“I realize that. After all, you tried to kill me and the
others,” Hok said matter-of-factly. “Oddly enough, I never understood why it is you hate us so much.”

“Because you were spoiled rotten,” Ying said.

“You wanted to kill us because you were jealous of us?”

“That's not what I said.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Grandmaster treated all of you differently than me,” Ying said. “He treated
you
differently, even though you were no more special than I was. In fact, I'm better at kung fu than any of you. I worked harder than any of you. I went on a mission for Grandmaster, and I never received any recognition for it. I even lost my best friend on that mission. It was so … unfair.”

“Sounds like jealousy to me.”

Ying spat and glared at Hok, but she wouldn't let it go.

“I had no control over how Grandmaster treated you,” Hok said. “Neither did any of the others. For you to take it out on us, that's unfair.”

“You could have stood up for me,” Ying said.

“How do you know that I didn't?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Ying said. “I never heard you utter a single word in my defense.”

“That doesn't mean that I remained silent. I stood up for you many times.”

“Give me one example.”

“Remember the time I spent an entire week scrubbing the floor of every building within the Cangzhen
compound? I distinctly remember you mocking me for days.”

Ying thought back. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“Do you remember what you did the day before I started scrubbing?”

“No, I … wait a moment, yes,” Ying said. “Grandmaster made a big fuss about me hiding down in the escape tunnels. It was the first time Fu had woken me. I attacked Fu.”

“That's right,” Hok said. “I told Grandmaster that Fu should never have done that. Everyone knows how you react when you're woken without warning, including Fu. I told Grandmaster that punishing you was unfair. You weren't bothering anyone by going into the tunnel. Fu was bothering
you.”

Ying stared at Hok, dumbfounded. “You said that to Grandmaster? How did he respond?”

“He got really angry at me, of course. He told me I was the one who should mind her own business. Scrubbing the floors was my punishment.”

“How come you never told me this?”

“What difference would it have made?”

“A lot. I would have known that you were on my side.”

“So, if a person is not openly fighting for you, then he or she is against you?” Hok asked.

“I … I don't know,” Ying said.

“I think you do know,” Hok said. “You need to rethink how you think everybody else thinks. For someone so smart, you sure can be stupid. Most people are
neither for you nor against you. They have too many other things to worry about in their own lives. They don't have time to spend wondering about your situation. Don't flatter yourself so much.”

Ying didn't know what to say. He was beginning to feel dizzy again. He lifted his hand to take another bite out of his dinner bun when a small boy suddenly darted out of the alley's darkest corner. The child managed to grab Hok's and Ying's bags of coins before Ying even thought to act.

As the boy scurried away, Ying dove at him, catching the boy by one scrawny ankle. The boy squealed and squirmed as Ying clamped down hard with an eagle-claw grip, compressing skin, muscle, and tendon. The boy yelped, tears welling up in his dirty eyes. He dropped the bags of coins.

Hok stood. “Let him go, Ying.”

“I don't think so,” Ying replied. “Nobody takes what's mine. I'm going to teach him a lesson.”

“You've hurt him plenty,” Hok said. “He's just a little boy and he's probably starving to death. Look how skinny he is. Take the coins back and give him a bun.”

“No,” Ying said. “I'm not in the mood for charity. He took my coins with his right hand, so I am going to break that hand for him.” Ying reached out for the boy's tiny hand.

“I'm warning you, Ying. Don't harm him.”

Ying could see the seriousness in Hok's eyes. After seeing the damage she did back at the pet market, Ying
wasn't sure he wanted to tangle with her tonight. He pulled his free hand away from the boy and slightly loosened his eagle-claw grip on the boy's ankle. The kid stopped crying, and Hok sat back down.

Hok sighed. “Please just let him go, Ying. I'm tired of arguing with you. He can even take my coins if he truly thinks he needs them more than I do.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Ying said. “You'd let him take your money?”

Hok nodded. “It looks like he's in a worse situation than you or me. I bet he has no family. No home. No food.” She looked at the boy. “Is that true?”

The boy nodded, sniffling.

“See,” Hok said.

“So what?” Ying replied. “I was an orphan, too.”

Hok gave him a disgusted look. “Give me a break, Ying. You always had food on your table, a roof over your head, and clothes on your back.”

Ying ground his teeth but said nothing.

Hok looked at the boy. “What is your name?”

“ShaoShu,” he replied.

“Little Mouse?”
Hok asked.

The boy nodded.

Ying snorted. “It's fitting.”

Hok ignored his comment. “Did your parents give you that name?”

“I don't remember who gave me that name,” ShaoShu replied in a small voice. “That is the only thing anyone has ever called me. Well, that and some curse words.”

Ying smirked. “Imagine that.”

Hok glared at Ying. “Give him a break. I bet ShaoShu would feel terrible stealing from us if he knew our situation.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Ying said. “He is a little thief. He doesn't care about you or me. He only cares about himself.”

“That's funny,” Hok said. “Sounds like somebody else I know.”