“GO!” Seh shouted as he stood. He slipped off into a thick tangle of vines. Fu hesitated, then put his head down and barreled into the dense foliage after Seh.

“Get them!” one of the soldiers shouted.

“Wait!” another warned. “Look!”

Malao turned and saw Tsung latched on to Ying's back with an unorthodox choke hold. Malao had never seen anything like it before. Tsung's arms and legs were intertwined with Ying's, and Tsung's forearm was wedged tightly against Ying's throat. It was without a doubt the most effective technique Malao had ever seen. Ying's face was red as a beet, and it looked like his head was about to explode. No matter how much Ying thrashed around, he couldn't shake Tsung. If Tsung didn't let up soon, Ying would be dead.

The soldiers began to close in and form a circle around Tsung and Ying. Malao made a break for the trees. With one powerful leap, he grabbed hold of a thick vine and swung toward freedom. When he was three trees into the forest, someone shouted, “STOP!”

Malao recognized that voice. It was Tonglong.

Malao stopped and spun around. He knew the shout wasn't meant for him, but he was curious nonetheless. He weaved his head back and forth until he had a clear line of sight into the clearing and waited. A moment later, Tonglong approached the circle of soldiers.

“Nobody touch them!” Tonglong said to the men. “Now back away!”

The soldiers backed away and Malao could clearly see Tsung still latched on to Ying's back. Tsung was panting heavily and his limbs shook from the pressure he was exerting on Ying. Ying's body had gone limp, but Tsung still held fast.

Tonglong drew his straight sword and rested the point against the side of Tsung's neck. “I suggest you let go, General Tsung. Immediately.”

“Go … away,” Tsung grunted. Sweat poured off his bald head like a waterfall.

“You have accomplished your goal, sir,” Tonglong said. “You challenged Ying, and now he's fallen to your hands. There is no need to kill him. Let go.”

Tsung didn't respond. He held on like an exhausted man desperately clinging to the edge of a cliff.

“I will count to three,” Tonglong said. “Release Major Ying, or die. One … two …”

Tsung let go and rolled off Ying. He tried to rise onto his hands and knees but collapsed. He didn't move again. Even from a distance, Malao could tell that Tsung had slipped into unconsciousness.

Tonglong knelt next to Ying, and the circle of soldiers began to close in around them.

“I told you men to back away!” Tonglong shouted. “Form a rank over there.” He pointed behind him.

Malao watched the soldiers scramble to arrange themselves in a straight line. As the men hurried about, Malao noticed Tonglong lean over Ying and discreetly slip his hand into the folds of Ying's robe. Tonglong quickly removed a scroll and slipped it into his own oversized sleeve.

Malao gasped and Tonglong snapped his head up. Tonglong locked eyes with Malao and grinned. Malao twitched. He knew he should run, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes from Tonglong's face. For the briefest of moments, Tonglong looked just like someone he knew. …

Transfixed, Malao watched Tonglong turn his attention back to Ying. Tonglong ripped Ying's robe wide open, exposing Ying's bare chest. Ying's rib cage rose and fell steadily. Ying was still alive.

Tonglong stood and adjusted his long braid. He pointed down at Ying and addressed the soldiers. “Look! The scroll Major Ying carried is missing. Did any of you see who took it?”

The soldiers all shook their heads.

“No one saw anything?” Tonglong asked. “Nothing?”

The soldiers all lowered their heads and shuffled their feet.

“What are you men ashamed of?” Tonglong said. His voice boomed. “Raise your heads and stand strong! None of you did anything wrong. I've been observing you for months now, and time after time I see the same thing—soldiers who are afraid to act. Men who are paralyzed with indecision. Men who have the right instincts, but are unsure of whether or not they should take action, so they do nothing. This is a problem. But it is not your problem. As your number one, it is my problem. And I intend to fix it.”

The soldiers all looked up at Tonglong. Their eyes widened.

Tonglong sighed. “It is my opinion that you men are afraid to take action because you are afraid of failure. Unfortunately, failure in Major Ying's camp means punishment. We need to change that.”

Tonglong made eye contact with each of the soldiers. “Gentlemen, I promise I'll do whatever I can to make your lives easier. In the meantime, we have some unfinished business. We must find the young monks. Now listen closely and take heed. We are sure to encounter many different creatures in the not-too-distant future, and each has unique skills. The leopard, for example, is the fastest and most agile animal in the forest, but it lacks stamina. Look—here lies one incapacitated after a few short bursts of energy. I am certain that ahead of us lie a monkey, a tiger, and a snake. The tiger can stay on the move for days and the monkey for weeks, but it is the snake that concerns me most. The snake does not have to run. It is a master of camouflage, and it strikes hardest when you least expect it. You have all seen firsthand how perfectly one played dead here today, only to strike when no one was paying attention. I suggest you keep your eyes and ears open at all times and watch where you step, for the snake now has the scrolls and we must get them back.”




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