After five days on the trail, Long was growing confident in his basic riding skills, and he could not have been more pleased, especially after they passed through a particularly dense stand of bamboo and he saw a collection of tents in a clearing ahead.

It was the bandit camp.

ShaoShu sat atop his secondhand pony, staring through rays of fading afternoon light at the fast-moving caravan of riders ahead of him. All he had seen for the past several weeks were horses’ butts, and he was sick of it. He hoped the group pitching tents ahead meant a long-term change of scenery.

As part of Tonglong’s official caravan, ShaoShu and ninety-nine of Tonglong’s elite soldiers were racing ahead of the main troops to the former bandit stronghold so that Tonglong could make plans with Commander Woo, the man Tonglong had left in charge. They were in such a hurry, Tonglong forbade them to set up formal camps at night. They slept beneath the stars, or in the homes of villagers they came across.

ShaoShu felt terrible about the treatment of those poor villagers. The soldiers would throw people out of their own homes and eat everything in sight, then steal whatever they chose when they left the following morning. If the villagers complained, the soldiers would burn their homes to the ground.

ShaoShu wanted it to be over soon, but he knew that it would not. Tonglong was only getting started. His network of recruiters had grown amazingly quickly because of the bounties he offered, and men and boys were being dragged into his army at a frightening pace. The recruiters’ reach grew longer and faster than even Tonglong’s elite caravan could travel.

As ShaoShu continued down the trail, his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of soldiers pitching tents in a large clearing. One side of the clearing was a thick line of trees. The other side was a tall stone wall that had been damaged in a few places, and beyond the wall was a series of ruined buildings. The buildings had been made of stone and were covered with burn marks. The tile roofs had gaping holes where flames had licked their way through, and all of the doors and windows had been burned away. He wondered why this location had been selected.

“Cangzhen Temple?” a nearby soldier said. “Really? No wonder Warlord Tonglong chose this spot to set up our first real camp. It represents one of his first victories, and I understand that Cangzhen is quite close to the stronghold. Maybe we will finally get a break from this insane pace.”

Cangzhen Temple! ShaoShu thought. So this was where Hok and the others had lived! He gave his pony a slap on its rump and steered it toward a crumbled section of the wall. He wanted to take a look around before someone put him to work.

ShaoShu made it through the gap without attracting any attention and jumped off his pony. What a horrible attack this must have been. Besides the burn marks, there were huge dark stains along the sides of many of the buildings that could only have been blood. He could not imagine two thousand soldiers armed with cannons and muskets attacking one hundred monks who had little more than sticks and swords.

Soldiers began to call out for ShaoShu, but he was eager to see more. He tied his pony to a piece of rubble and headed deeper into the destruction.

When he had heard about his friends growing up at Cangzhen Temple, ShaoShu had imagined one building. However, it was actually a collection of many buildings, with the high wall surrounding everything. He kept close to the wall, scurrying in its shadow, and soon reached one of the compound’s back corners. Here he found a small building with something shiny on the roof. Of course, he could not resist finding out what it was. He looked around and saw a thin clay drainpipe running straight up one corner of the building. It stopped at an ornate stone dragon overhanging the roofline.

ShaoShu shinnied up the pipe, climbed over the dragon, and stopped dead in his tracks. There was another dragon on the roof, hidden behind the stone one—only this second dragon was real! It bared its pointed teeth at him, stuck out its forked tongue, and growled, “Get out!”

ShaoShu let out a small shriek and leaped back, tripping over the stone dragon. He was beginning to tumble off the roof when the real dragon stabbed its sharp claws into his collar and jerked him to safety.

The dragon clamped another claw over ShaoShu’s mouth and hissed in his ear, “Hush, ShaoShu! It’s me, Ying.”

ShaoShu felt the pressure released from his mouth and collar, and he stared. It was indeed Ying.

“I apologize,” Ying said. “I did not recognize you at first.”

ShaoShu shrugged. He was not sure if he should be frightened or ecstatic. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I might ask you the same thing. However, I think I can guess what is happening. Tonglong is stopping here on the way to the Forbidden City.”




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