Snake (Five Ancestors #3)(34)
Author: Jeff Stone

Two days after he’d captured the stronghold, Ying sat alone at the head of the huge table in the center of the bandits’ banquet hall, drafting a report he would submit to the Emperor. Things were going better than he had expected.

Ying had gone into the battle with roughly one hundred soldiers against an estimated one hundred bandits. The bandit body count was seventy. The soldiers, fifty. His men were getting better with the qiangs. Next time, he would have his men hunt their enemy down instead of letting them escape.

Ying was about to dip his brush into the bottle of black ink for the finishing touches on his report when someone knocked on the front door. He scowled and set the brush aside. “Enter.”

Tonglong walked through the door with one hand behind his back. “Greetings, Major Ying. I have something of great significance for you.”

Ying’s carved brow rose. “Three young heads with short black hair?”

“No, sir,” Tonglong said. “The boys are headed to Kaifeng.”

Ying scowled. “All three of them?”

“As far as I know, sir, yes. The small one was unconscious when I last saw him, but he was still alive. The young warrior monks intend to rendezvous with Mong in a month. Assuming Mong is still alive.”

“Mong’s body is not among the dead,” Ying said. “I checked myself.” He looked at Tonglong’s arm. “What is behind your back?”

Tonglong held out a sheet of fine parchment, rolled up. The paper was of even higher quality than the material Ying was using for his report. Ying noticed immediately that the document carried the Emperor’s seal.

“For you,” Tonglong said. He bowed.

Ying snatched it out of Tonglong’s hand. “Where did you get this?”

“I happened upon the Emperor in the forest and—”

“Again?” Ying interrupted. “You also ‘happened upon’ the Emperor when I sent you to deliver the Cangzhen Grandmaster’s head.”

“I know,” Tonglong replied, his narrow eyes fixed on Ying’s. “I could hardly believe it myself.”

Ying could not read Tonglong’s expression. “What is this?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Tonglong said, his eyes still glued to Ying’s. “However, if I were to guess, I would say the Emperor wishes to congratulate you on all your recent accomplishments. He already knows about Cangzhen, and I told him about everything that happened here. He seemed most interested in hearing about the events in your words.”

Ying fought back a grin and broke the seal on the rolled-up document with one of his long fingernails. It was indeed an invitation. The Emperor wanted to see him in twenty-one days. Something big was being planned. The Emperor rarely invited anyone to his summer palace—Ying had never been there before.

“It looks like I will be busy,” Ying said. “You will be, too. Make arrangements for Commander Woo to take a group to Kaifeng to search for the boys. You will stay here and devise a defense strategy for retaining the stronghold in case the bandits return. Train the remaining men in the strategies you feel would be most helpful.”

“I have no intention of letting anyone take this fortress,” Tonglong said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And I already know how I will lead the men.”

“It sounds like you have given this some thought,” Ying said as he picked up his brush.

“You have no idea, sir.”

“Then get out of my sight and show me what you are made of!” Ying snapped.

“I intend to,” Tonglong said with a bow. As he turned and headed for the door, a thin smirk played upon his lips. “I fully intend to.”

For three weeks, Seh and Fu put their new construction skills to good use. Seh helped shape and install replacement rafters for numerous roofs while Fu single-handedly cut, stripped, and delivered support timbers to nearly every work site.

When they weren’t working, Seh split his time between solitary meditation sessions and trying to cheer up Malao. Malao had regained consciousness after one day in Sanfu’s care and he was making a speedy recovery, but he was sad. Sanfu had confirmed that the Monkey King was Malao’s father, and Malao now knew that the Monkey King was missing thanks to someone called Bing—or “ice.” Malao barely spoke with anyone.

Today, however, things were beginning to turn around. Malao had gone into the forest early in the morning and found the white monkey. This had made a noticeable difference in Malao’s mood. By early afternoon, he was up on the roof of Ma’s mother’s house with Fu, giggling as he speculated about the size of the hole that would be left in the front yard if Fu happened to slip.

A few houses away Seh was working with Sanfu. Sanfu was on the ground positioning a new support post while Seh was dangling from a rafter, joining two replacement beams. They were discussing Kaifeng.