Fu slammed his fist down on the floor of the cage. “They had nothing to say!”

“Really?” the Drunkard asked.

“Really!”

“Tell me then, monk—what do you think of the Governor?”

Fu rolled his eyes. “He is a fool.”

“Really?”

“Really! Really! Really!” Fu said, slamming his fist down again. “A thousand times, really! Only a fool would promise those scrolls to Ying.”

The Drunkard scratched his scraggly beard. “How is the Governor to know what Major Ying might do with the scrolls?”

“I was trying to tell him!” Fu replied. “All the Governor had to do was listen to me for a second.”

“So you're saying that anyone who doesn't listen to you is a fool?”

“Yes! I mean, no!” Fu took a deep breath and paused. “What I mean is, anyone who doesn't listen in general is a fool.”

“Okay, that's fair,” the Drunkard said. He sat down on the ground in front of Fu. “I have something to say, then. Are you listening?”

Fu rolled his eyes again but kept his mouth closed and his ears open.

“The Governor's wife was killed by that tiger you saw in the pit this morning,” the Drunkard said.

“What!” Fu shouted. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“I say it because it is true,” the Drunkard replied. “And remember Ho, the boy you attacked? She was Ho's mother.”

“How … how do you know this to be true?” Fu asked. He felt dizzy.

“I saw some things and heard many more. But you can decide for yourself. Did the tiger in the pit have a broken spear in its shoulder? A decorated spear?”

“Yes, it did,” Fu said. “One of the hunters must have stabbed it while it was in the pit.”

“No. That is not necessarily true. You see, several days ago Ho and his mother and father were out near the forest's edge looking for wild mushrooms, and a tiger attacked Ho's mother without warning. The Governor happened to be carrying one of his fancy spears to scare off thieves, and as the beast dragged his wife away, he bravely ran up and sank the spear deep into the tiger's shoulder. This I saw with my very own eyes, having been drawn to the scene by Ho's cries. I ran up to help the Governor, and the spear broke. The wounded tiger released the woman and fled with its cub, but it was too late. Ho's mother's spirit never made it out of the forest.”

Fu couldn't believe his ears. However, the look in the Drunkard's eyes told him that the man was telling the truth. His dizziness grew worse.

“Once a tiger has hunted a human,” the Drunkard said, “it will very likely do so again. Especially if it is wounded or lame like this one was with the spear in its shoulder. Even more so if it has a cub to feed. So you see, the Governor had no choice but to hunt down the tiger.”

Fu lowered his eyes.

“And here's something else you should know,” the Drunkard said. “The cage in which you now sit was not built to keep the tigers from getting out; it was built to keep the villagers from getting in. The plan was to destroy the mother and its cub and bring their bodies back here to throw in the cage for all to see. These villagers would tear the tigers' bodies to shreds with their teeth, they are so upset about the loss. If not for the cage, they might tear you to shreds.”

Fu lay down. He was so dizzy now that he could not sit up any longer. To think, he once considered the Governor's son lucky.

“I—I understand why they would be upset with the adult tiger,” Fu stammered. “But why kill the cub?”

The Drunkard stood up. “It is said that once a tiger has had a taste of man, it will always be a man-eater. Perhaps the cub did not bite the Governor's wife, but it saw what its mother did. The Governor did not want to take any chances.”

Fu felt nauseous. The cage was spinning fast now, and the food he had devoured earlier rose to the back of his throat. He coughed, struggling to focus on the point where the Drunkard stood. But the Drunkard was no longer there. Fu opened his mouth to say something, but the pressure on the back of his throat was too great. He coughed again. Then he shook his head and closed his eyes.

Ying crouched behind the fire he had built at the front corner of the Cangzhen compound, near the Forgotten Pagoda. He watched his shadow dance on the perimeter wall and listened closely to the sounds of the night. Ever since the young monks had fled Cangzhen, Ying had felt like he was being watched. He couldn't tell where the watcher was positioned, which could only mean one thing. There was only one person alive who could fly this close beneath his nose and not be seen.

Tonglong approached Ying from the opposite side of the large campfire.




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