Gold Tiger King - Ch. 7

On the Road to Nowhere

Rate E10+ Ten and Up

In May of 618, Long Yen-shu turned twenty-one. As he clopped eastward from the imperial capital on his noble steed, he sang to himself the song Empress Dou used to sing to Shimin on his birthday.

“Huān yíng huí dào nǐ chū shēng de nà tiān.” Yen-shu closed his eyes as he hummed. “Zuì hòu jì zhù zhè yī tiān, yīn wèi tā shì yī zhǒng zhù fú.”

The cub rode for the Shaolin temple, the place where the fighter he admired the most back at Duan Men Jie was announced to hail from. Yen-shu remembered the way the fighter’s stances and attacks mimicked animals: a tiger’s claw, a crane’s beak, a snake’s fangs. The temple was about 438 kilometers from the capital, and Yen-shu would only ride for a little more than thirty so as to not wear out his horse, Shandian. At this pace, it’d take him just under two weeks to arrive and begin his new life as a martial artist. However, he didn’t realize until he was closer to the Yangtze River than he was to Shaolin...that he was lost.

Yen-shu had been heading south for a few days before he got out of the mountains and felt he’d made a mistake. He saw a village in the distance when he emerged west of Huaian. Suddenly, he heard a ruffling in trees surrounding the road. He looked to his left. Then right. Behind.

“What have we here?” said a voice coming from just ahead. A man stood in front of him where there wasn’t one before.

“Excuse me, I--” Yen-shu froze as he saw more men coming out of the forest to surround him.

Camouflaged by the dark greens and browns of their attire, the group of men started brandishing their daggers and chuckling menacingly. Yen-shu’s face regrouped, brows furrowed as he looked back at the man who spoke.

“Brave of a wealthy man like yourself to come riding through these mountains,” said the man, unsheathing his sword. “Don’cha know this is Chen Cavern Crew territory?”

Yen-shu gently dismounted Shandian. He patted the horse, shushing her as she became restless.

“Bandits,” he said. “Just my luck.”

“Not just any bandits, pretty boy,” barked the leader. “You’re looking at Chen Pian himself!”

“Oh? The Chen Pian?”

“Ha-ha! Yeah, so you have heard of...wait.”

Yen-shu smirked.

“You little brat,” growled Chen. “You really think you can make fun of me on my own turf?”

“I think you should get out of my way.” Yen-shu began stretching. “If it’s money you want, I don’t need it where I’m going. You can have it.”

“Pei! You don’t seem to understand, kid. You're not leaving here with even the clothes on your back!”

Yen-shu sighed. “Alright.” He pulled his sword from the cart and unsheathed it.

Chen flashed a venomous smile. He rushed. Yen-shu braced himself to parry the attack. Chen raised his rusty dao. He let out an unintelligible call. At the sound, the surrounding bandits charged toward the cart. More came leaping out of the trees!

“Huh?” Yen-shu gasped.

Chen brought down his blade. Stunned, Yen-shu failed to parry. Their blades clashed. Yen-shu side stepped, moving in to bash Chen with the pommel. But one of the other assailants came from behind. Tossed dirt in Yen-shu’s eyes. Chen fired off a heavy kick to Yen-shu’s stomach. He bent over, groaning and clutching his abdomen. Chen sliced Yen-shu across the temple down to his eye. The cub cried out in pain. Chen cackled maniacally. Threw another kick to Yen-shu’s head. His body plopped flat on the ground. The bandits left nothing in the cart but the blue leaves of Qingliu.

Finally, the villains hovered over Yen-shu. As Chen swaggered over to Shandian, his cronies stripped the young man of his ornate robes. The bandits retreated into the forest and back up the mountain path. Chen cut Shandian free of the cart and mounted her.

Chen looked down at the naked and bleeding Yen-shu. “What a sight.”

Shandian neighed and reared violently. Chen was flung off and rolled down the side of the road into the brush. Yen-shu’s horse galloped away, down the mountain toward Huaian. In the last moments of his consciousness, the cub reached for his imperial dao. Then, he passed out.

#

Strength returned first in his fingers. He couldn’t move his head at all, but he eventually was able to push himself to a kneeling position. It was nighttime. The bloody puddle he’d slept in painted half of his face red. Thankfully, Chen’s cut wasn’t very deep. But Yen-shu was dizzy. He could barely lift his eyelids to look forward. And what he saw was something out of a legend.

Approaching him on Shandian was a woman like the moon itself. Her command over the horse was as if she’d raised it as a foal. The glowing woman dismounted Shandian, the curves of her body winding like a painting of the ocean. She knelt and put a hand on Yen-shu’s bloody cheek. Her skin was as soft as the robes he’d been robbed of, and what he could see of her eyes were stars of jade.

It was then Yen-shu remembered an old tale Shimin would request his mother tell often. Ma Niang, a spirit maiden of horses, loved only one other than the steed itself: the rider. If this was but a dream, he’d heard Shimin tell him of similar ones he had. His greatest love would descend from Heaven on a horse made of light. Yen-shu saw flashes of a fantasy. Shimin’s wedding. The prince’s disappointment when the one he was betrothed to all those years ago arrived on her two legs alone. His mind continued to drift like so.

However, there was no questioning once the glowing woman leaned in to kiss Yen-shu’s wound. In that moment, his eyes shot open. While the aching hadn’t left him, the woman surely did. He looked around, then realized with a volley of rapid blinks that his dizziness had subsided. Yen-shu grunted and gritted his teeth as he rose to his feet. He stood straight, taking slow breaths and staring out over the black horizon. Ma Niang.

Shandian clopped forward and pushed her head up against Yen-shu’s. He patted the side of her head. “Who do you suppose that was, Shandian?”

Yen-shu hopped up onto his horse, and before he started down the mountain, he heard a sound. Like the breeze was trying to sing but had lost its voice. It was coming from the cart. Out swam a small school of blue leaves. The wind carried it slowly out in front of him, looping in a circle and continuing down the mountain. Yen-shu felt his breath follow the leaves as he exhaled, but his attention turned to the village in the distance.

He looked down at himself; his bruises, his nakedness. He looked back at the village and lifted his eyebrows.

Yen-shu took a deep breath. “Well…”

And down the mountain he rode. By the time he made it to the village, his vertigo had returned. A few folks were out and gasped at the sight of him. He didn’t make it ten feet into town before sliding off the saddle and splatting onto the road with a decisive thud.

“Out of the way!” he heard as the world went dark. “Be careful, don’t touch him! He is the one! The one has finally come!”

TO BE CONTINUED