The Sword Dancer (13 page)

‘Yes.’ She pulled her sleeve back and rearranged it carefully to cover up the sword. A sense of unease stirred inside her. ‘I know how to use it.’

‘Mother was a dancer and our father played beautiful music. Now look at us. Funny, isn’t it?’

Despite his words, there was no amusement in his tone.

‘You killed the steward,’ she said, her stomach turning.

‘With my very own hands,’ he replied with cold pride.

‘But he was innocent.’

‘Innocent?’ His mouth twisted. ‘Cai Yun was the one who came to the troupe leader bearing gifts to show off his master’s wealth. He demanded a private performance.’

Gifts.
She pulled the jade from her sash and showed it to Liu Yuan. ‘Mother gave this to me before they took her.’

Liu Yuan stared at the jade, but would not touch it. ‘That scoundrel brought that to our mother. “My master is a great admirer,” he said. Like a damned procurer for a brothel. I don’t know why she kept it.’

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. To wealthy pleasure-seekers, dancers and entertainers were little more than prostitutes.

Only now did Li Feng make sense of these fragments of her memory. Mother had tried to sell the jade. She had tried to go to shopkeepers and even begged on the street for someone to buy it from her. She was desperate for the money, but no one would take the jade. It was too fine, too expensive.

Why had her mother given the jade to her, then? Was it to provide for her the only way she could? Li Feng had held on to the pendant for so long. She had traced the lines of the carving and held the stone close to her until it became warm against her skin.

Jade changed over time, as it took in the essence of its wearer. For the first time, she noticed there was a thin vein of red along the bird’s wing as if it had been wounded. Even this reminder of her mother was now tainted.

‘They owe us blood, Li Feng.’ The words rang eerily, surrounded by darkness and the lonely flicker of the candle. ‘They owe us blood. They owe us blood.’

With each repetition, Liu Yuan’s voice grew stronger. The darkness of the cave became heavy around her until it seemed once again she was in that tiny hole in the rock, suffocating with dread.

They’d both been children, helpless and unable to do anything, but Liu Yuan had the burden of being the eldest son. The responsibility for taking care of their parents fell to him, in body once they grew old and frail, and in spirit once they had passed on to join their ancestors. But Father and Mother would never grow old.

For him, blood was the only way. How else could he ever atone for a line that was broken? For lives that were wrongfully cut short?

Part of her rebelled. She wasn’t the same as her brother. Liu Yuan was a man of violence. He killed his enemies. He cut their throats and left them lying in the street. She remembered the fear and the loss of being abandoned, but she also knew that life was both pain and happiness, that the world was light and dark and opposing forces. These were the teachings of Wen
shifu.
This was the Tao.

But what enlightenment the teachings provided her at this moment of darkness was no more than the flicker of a candle.

‘Revenge would mean your death as well,’ she said, trying to remain calm.

‘But we’re already dead, aren’t we, Little Sister?’

His eyes were black and empty. The search for her past had consumed her, but now she had been reunited with her brother, the only family she had. Finding him should have brought them both happiness. Instead she was rendered as cold and dark inside as he was.

Chapter Twelve

H
an was up with the sun the next morning, ready to search for Li Feng for the rest of the day if needed. He shouldn’t have been so worried. He found her a few streets away, walking down the street and absently browsing the morning market stalls.

The grey robes of the Taoist priestess were gone, traded for a cotton robe dyed in the warm colours of a spring peach. The skirt was shortened, falling just past her knees. Her hair was pinned carelessly and she was turned away from him, but he still recognised her. The sight of her locked into him as it always did.

He could sense her through distance, through crowds. He didn’t need to see her face or hear her voice. He was aware of her beyond sight and sound. Han would have liked to boast that it had something to do with superior thief-catching instincts, but it was nothing like that. He was always finding her because every part of him was always searching for her.

She turned and saw him. They met in the middle of the street while the crowd flowed by on either side of them.

‘Li Feng,’ he greeted.

‘Hao Han.’

‘I was looking for you.’

‘I was looking for you too…for once.’ Her faint smile was for her own benefit, not his.

He should have been relieved that she hadn’t once again disappeared, but the tightness in his chest remained. One day he would no longer be able to find her. She would be lost to him for ever and the thought of it left him gutted.

‘What…’ He paused, looking at the dark circles under her eyes. Her ivory complexion was as pale as milk. ‘What happened?’

She didn’t answer, but her expression appeared haunted. Searching amongst the food stalls, Han selected one with benches where they could sit and settled in opposite her, folding his legs beside the low table. Li Feng watched listlessly as a steaming bowl of chicken and ginger soup was set before her.

Usually Li Feng was a joy to watch. There was a perpetual fire in her eyes and she was like a hummingbird, never holding still. This morning, her usual spirited manner was locked away. Something had changed.

‘I went to the prefect’s residence last night,’ she confessed. She spooned some of the soup into her mouth, her colour returning a little as she ate.

‘What were you hoping to find?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, her tone sharpening. ‘I didn’t go inside.’

Li Feng spooned soup into her mouth. For a while, he just watched her.

‘Not hungry?’ she murmured, seeing how he hadn’t touched his food.

He’d been stalling, trying to work out the best way to tell her what he’d learned. ‘I never asked you what you planned to do after you found what happened to your family,’ he said, still stalling.

She regarded him for a long time before answering, ‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought of it.’

The search had consumed her. It was the reason behind everything she’d done, right or wrong. Han knew how a single goal could consume a person. He had investigated and searched for Two Dragon Lo for months, convinced that the bandit was growing more dangerous with each passing day and needed to be stopped. By the end of it, he couldn’t remember when he’d become so intent on hunting Lo down. He was also left without any purpose once the bandit was dead.

‘You’ve discovered something about my mother,’ she realised, looking deep into his eyes. ‘Something about me.’

‘There was a case in the city fifteen years ago involving a musician.’

Her expression was unreadable. ‘Go on.’

This was about Li Feng’s family and her past. He had no right to keep it from her.

‘Prefect Guan was hosting a banquet at his residence and hired several performers,’ he began. ‘The musician and his wife were caught in the house, attempting to steal. Guan He discovered them and the husband attacked him. The prefect was struck repeatedly, but that wasn’t the worst of it. A servant came to the prefect’s defence and was left dead in the courtyard, bleeding from a wound to the head.’

Li Feng’s mouth pulled tight, but she said nothing, waiting for his report to continue. He had always known she was strong, but there was something unnatural in her silence. They were surrounded by the clatter of dishes and the conversations of the other customers. Han wished he had waited until they were alone to tell her everything.

‘After the musician was arrested, he wouldn’t confess to the theft, but he did take responsibility for the servant’s death, claiming it was an accident.’

‘Admitting his guilt,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry, Li Feng.’

Her face remained blank of emotion, though her hands were folded in front of her. He could see the struggle within her as she clasped them tight.

‘Do you believe all of that?’ she asked quietly.

‘It doesn’t matter what I believe. This is what was recorded.’

He was trying hard to be impassive, even continuing to speak of the man and his wife as if they weren’t Li Feng’s father and mother. But it was impossible to remain detached. His own father had always insisted on objectivity, but Han wasn’t like his father.

‘You don’t need to soften the blow. Tell me everything.’ Her demeanour remained too calm for all that she had heard.

There was no easy way to say it. ‘The musician was executed for the death of the servant and for striking a government official.’

‘What of his wife?’ Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke. For the first time during the conversation, a sliver of emotion pierced her armour.

‘She fled the city and was later captured. The casebook records that she was sentenced to death and allowed to commit suicide.’

A small tremor moved along her jaw, but she bit down against it. Despite the public setting, Han reached for her, but Li Feng rose to stand. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin proudly.

‘Whatever that report may say, my father and mother were not thieves,’ she insisted. ‘They weren’t sentenced because they tried to rob the prefect. They were executed because they dared to disobey.’

With that, she pushed out into the street, weaving with a dancer’s grace and strength through the crowd. Pedestrians were left staring at this girl who dared to move with such audacity.

Han chased after her, but Li Feng broke away from the street to climb on to the bridge that spanned the main canal. She gripped the wooden rail with one hand and in the next breath she was up and over, disappearing over the side. Cursing, Han ran to the bridge to see that she’d landed safely down below. He climbed on to the rail and dropped on to the embankment beside her.

Unimpressed by his dramatic manoeuvre, she turned away and headed towards the bridge. He caught her by the arm to swing her around, then immediately regretted his forcefulness when her eyes flashed fire at him.

‘I know this must be difficult for you. This is a great tragedy.’ He struggled to find the right words, but his tongue was thick in his mouth, his words stiff and stilted.

‘We are finished, you and I.’ In contrast, Li Feng’s words lashed out with all the emotion she’d tried so hard to keep hidden.

‘We’re not finished. Far from it.’

He followed her as she strode beneath the arch of the bridge. They were enclosed in a cool, mossy darkness away from the noise of the city.

‘I know what you want,’ he began.

‘You don’t know anything.’ She kept on walking and refused to face him.

‘You want what anyone would want. To set things right.’

Li Feng did turn on him then. ‘None of this means anything to you,’ she accused, her voice trembling. ‘My mother and father broke the law and they were punished. Justice was served.’

‘That isn’t what I think—’

‘You would never understand,’ she went on vehemently. ‘The meaning of family. Of loyalty.’

‘You don’t know what you’re speaking of, Li Feng.’

His voice barely rose, but his face flushed hot with anger. She had gone too far. He knew about the importance of family. He’d sacrificed everything for his.

‘Your family is alive, yet you’ve turned away from them. You’ve chosen to be alone.’

He froze beneath her onslaught, but this wasn’t about his family or his loss. It was about hers.

‘Li Feng, don’t run away. Just—just stay for once.’ He was angry at her, angry for her. He didn’t know any more.

‘I know who you are, Zheng Hao Han,’ she challenged. ‘You believe in upholding the law, yet you’ve taken a liking to me. So you’ve told yourself I must be innocent, because how could Thief-catcher Han ever befriend a common criminal?’

He could feel her slipping away as she pulled out of the shadows and back into the sunlight.

‘But I’m not innocent,’ she declared. ‘Don’t follow me any more. We go our separate ways from here, Han. This is the way it has to be and you know it.’

* * *

Han trailed Li Feng at a distance, always keeping her in sight. Usually Li Feng moved with efficiency and grace, but today even the way she carried herself was unbalanced and off-centre. She wandered the streets for a while, as if lost, before leaving the city through the main gate.

When she strayed from the road, his instincts told him to turn back. Family was a deep and private matter and she was mourning for something that had been taken away from her fifteen years ago. But he couldn’t leave her to feel such pain alone. At some point she would slow down and they could talk.

He meant every word when he told her they had become friends. What had his life been before Li Feng? He had no illusions. The life of a thief-catcher wasn’t a glorious one: chasing down one criminal after another and collecting coins for it. Killing treacherous men until one of them killed him. He sent the money home for his brother’s studies along with letters to his father and mother, yet he’d avoided returning himself.

Li Feng had seen that part of him that he had refused to admit. She made it sound as if he’d denied his family. As if he were ashamed of them, when the truth was very much the opposite. Han stayed away to protect his family. His father always insisted on order and discipline within the household. Arguments over Han’s dangerous profession would upset the peace and cause strife amongst them. It was best for everyone.

He had become a thief-catcher because something needed to be done. The family could no longer support themselves, certainly not while their eldest son focused on studying the classics while earning nothing. So Han had made a decision and gone out on his own.

Han waited for Li Feng to cast a glance over her shoulder, but she never did. She was moving deep into the woods now and it was quickly becoming apparent that she wasn’t escaping to some secluded place to grieve. His thief-catcher instinct awakened, all senses becoming alert.

He let the tangle of brush and vine swallow him as he continued to track her. Emotion drove him now, not strategy or reason. Li Feng was pushing blindly through the trees. Branches scraped and snapped over her and she swiped at them viciously, as if fighting an invisible foe.

She was going to meet someone.

His stomach turned at the thought, but Han fell back so he could continue to follow her undetected.

At the river, he waited until Li Feng skipped over the stones to disappear behind the trees before making his own crossing. It wasn’t too difficult to recapture her trail given how haplessly she tore through the wilderness.

Li Feng had done questionable things, he knew that. But he had also come to know her. Li Feng was right that he believed in justice, but so did she. Her code of honour was different from the one he’d been taught. In Li Feng’s world, material possessions held no value, but loyalty was priceless. She believed in protecting the weak. She was also so starved of contact that anyone who helped her was quickly taken in to her circle of trust. Even if he was a thief-catcher.

As he reached the shadow of the hills, he heard Li Feng calling out to someone. His suspicions were correct. Han quickened his step, then crouched low when he caught sight of her silhouette through the brush.

A man came out from what looked like a cavern in the hillside that was partially hidden by bramble and rock. Li Feng ran to him. Han’s blood boiled as she clasped the stranger’s hands.

‘Liu Yuan, let’s go together. Somewhere far from here.’

Han could hear the desperation in her plea. From the way she addressed him, the stranger could be a close friend. Or a lover. Bitterness rose in his throat.

The man was half a head taller than Li Feng and slight of build, though from what Han could see he was wiry with strength. For a bandit, he looked the part. His clothes were patched and fashioned from hide and leather. His skin was swarthy from the sun.

The bandit took hold of Li Feng by the shoulders. ‘Little Sister, you’re not alone.’ He aimed his gaze in Han’s direction. ‘I’m not alone either.’

Li Feng swung around, her eyes searching him out through the branches.

‘Run,’ she commanded.

More men dropped from the trees. Others seemed to sprout from the earth. Their clothing was discoloured, blending in with the surroundings.

Han veered to the left and shoved through the brush like a wild animal. The way back to the river was blocked and the bandits were in close pursuit. There were more of them than the magistrate had reported and they didn’t seem willing to spare yet another thief-catcher.

If he was a true hero, Han might have stood his ground and drawn his
dao
. He could go down fighting and Li Feng might weep for him. Not likely, he realised bitterly. Considering how intimate she and that bandit had appeared.

The incline rose as he trudged on. His heart pounded like a war drum signaling an impending battle. His lungs were burning. His muscles strained against the rise of the ground. It was time to stand and fight while he still had the strength.

He drew his
dao
and turned to charge at the closest pursuer before more could gather. His opponent held a knife in his right hand, which Han sliced across the knuckles. The knife fell to the ground. So did the man once Han kneed him in the groin.

Han left him rolling. The next two were upon him while two more approached immediately behind them. They wound through the trees to circle him.