“Just let it go,” Hok repeated. “I'm telling you, Ying's reach is too great. He has information, and information is power.”

“What do you mean by that?” Fu asked.

Hok sighed. “I overheard Ying talking to Tonglong. It seems Ying has been very busy this past year. Not only has he joined the Emperor, trained troops, and risen quickly through the ranks, he's also done quite a bit of research into his own past. I heard some of the stories he shared with Tonglong, and they seem believable to me.”

Fu finished freeing Malao. He looked at Hok. “Back at Cangzhen, Ying told me that Grandmaster wasn't the holy man everyone thinks he was. Is that what you're talking about?”

“Possibly,” Hok said. “Ying told Tonglong that Cangzhen Temple was a base for secret activities, and that we warrior monks were nothing but security guards whose main role was to protect Grandmaster and help with his secret operations.”

“That's crazy,” Fu said.

“I thought so, too,” Hok replied. “At first.”

“At first? Ying is just making up stories to justify attacking Cangzhen.”

“That was my first reaction. But now I'm not so sure. Grandmaster kept a lot of things from us, you know.”

“Like what?” Fu asked.

“For instance,” Hok said. “Grandmaster had visitors on occasion. What kind of secret temple has visitors?”

“You're paranoid.”

“Really?” Hok asked. “Why did our temple have to be secret in the first place? Think about it, Fu. Also, we all know that Grandmaster wasn't raised at Cangzhen like us, right? He led a different life before coming to Cangzhen, and like so many other things, his previous life was kept secret from us.”

“I think we need more information before we pass judgment on Grandmaster,” Fu said.

“Look at you, Governor Fu!” Malao said with a laugh. “Since when did you become so diplomatic?”

“Be quiet, Malao,” Fu growled. “Hok and I haven't finished our conversation.”

“You two never finish conversations when you get into this kind of mood,” Malao said. “You're both way too hardheaded. Only you could make a crane talk so much, Fu.”

Fu growled again. Malao giggled.

Hok closed his eyes. “We'll be finished in a few moments, Malao. I only have a few more things to say.” He opened his eyes and looked at Fu. “I agree that we still need more information before we pass judgment. At the same time, I think you should give Ying's story some thought. Ying is many things to many people, but I've never known him to be a liar.”

“He is a liar!” Fu roared. “A liar, a thief, and a murderer! How can you defend Ying like this? He is responsible for the deaths of our brothers and the destruction of our home!”

“I'm not defending Ying's actions,” Hok said. “I'm only sharing information with you. There is something else you should know. Something important. We know that Ying destroyed our temple and killed our brothers because of his hatred toward Grandmaster. I assumed his hatred stemmed from the death of his best friend and our dear brother Luk last year, but it seems that was only part of it. Ying also believes that his own father was killed by Grandmaster.”

“What?” Fu said. “That's nonsense.”

“Fu, listen carefully,” Hok said. “According to Ying, Grandmaster killed his father in order to steal the secret dragon scrolls. All we really know about Grandmaster is that he came to Cangzhen with amazing, never-before-seen dragon kung fu techniques. Those techniques came from those scrolls, and those scrolls are ancient. Grandmaster did not write them himself. They had to come from somewhere. And if Ying's father was a dragon-style master, it would explain why Ying has always yearned to be a dragon himself.”

“This is crazy,” Fu said.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Hok said. “But it could very well be true.”

“I still don't believe it. Not if it came from Ying's forked tongue.”

“Would you believe someone else?” Hok asked.

“Perhaps,” Fu said. “But who is left alive that could tell us more about Cangzhen's history?”

“I've been thinking a lot about that question,” Hok replied, “because I want to believe that Ying's claims are false. I think perhaps the monks at Shaolin could help. After all, Cangzhen was founded by Shaolin monks.”

“That's a great idea!” Malao said. “I've always wanted to go to Shaolin!”

“It seems like a good idea to me, too,” Fu said. “I just met someone who may have trained at Shaolin, and I'd like to find out more about him. But first I need to get the scrolls back. I'm not going anywhere without them. I'm serious.”




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