Page 81 of The Wind Dancer
The smell of hot food filled my nose and lungs. I needed food to function, to deal with all this, so I walked to a stall.
“Noodles, bao, fried meat and vegetables. And rice wine. The best you’ve got. And don’t forget the tofu and sauces.” Seeing the stall owner turn pale, I took out a silver liang from my coin purse and added:
“Quickly.”
Just a few moments later, the old man handed me a bowl of food, an earthenware jug, and a couple of baos. His hands were shaking like a leaf. Did I really scare him that much? I couldn’t care less. The smell of food drove me mad, and I tore into it like a rabid animal.
After two bowls of noodles, I felt someone staring at my back. Stealthily looking back, I saw a street urchin smiling at me. One of Tong’s informants. I beckoned him over and he timidly approached.
He was skinny, wearing a threadbare robe, which obviously wasn’t his. He couldn’t have been more than ten years old, but there was a dagger under his robes. Good, only those who were ready survived these streets.
“Do you want to earn some money?”
The kid nodded, and immediately added proudly, “I work for the Moonface Tong.”
Heavens, was I this arrogant when I was his age?
“Even better.” I took out a coin and said softly, “You’ll go to the Garden of the Nine Gates. There’s a female healer there. Her name is Mei Lin. Tell her Feng Lao is alive. He’s waiting for her at the mentor’s house. Understood?”
The boy nodded.
“Repeat it to me.”
“The Garden of the Nine Gates. Healer Mei Lin. Feng Lao is alive. Mentor’s house.”
“Well done. If you say everything correctly, you can ask her for another coin,” I said, handing him one, which immediately disappeared into his cheek as if by magic.
The kid took a couple of steps back, bowed, and disappeared into the crowd.
Returning to the house wasn’t easy for me. The walls remembered my first strikes against the training dummies. The floorboards creaked in exactly the same places as they always did. The air was filled with the smell of dust, old paper, dried herbs, and something else... something elusive. It was the smell of home, where the man who raised me had lived. The man whose death was still a fresh wound on my heart and soul. And whose death remained unavenged.
I walked down a narrow alley which led to the backyards. I could’ve found it blindfolded. And in a way I did, as my mind was elsewhere. The wind embraced me, and I saw just how much I had missed it in the catacombs. But I could feel that something was wrong.
The house looked untouched. The door was closed and the windows were shuttered. And yet...
I stopped, peering at the roof across. There, behind an old shop sign, I noticed something shift. The movement was smooth, as if something had slipped past and immediately disappeared into the night.
“Smart,” I whispered. “Or scared... Or both.”
I took my time as I walked to the door. I leaned against the door frame for a moment and put my palm on the wood. It filled me with warmth. I was home. And even if I was being followed, this place was mine by right. And whoever was watching would do well to remember: It wasn’t a good idea to mess with me.
It still bothered me that itwasbeing watched. I needed to know was it because of my old man, or because of me?
It was dark and dusty inside, but everything was in its place. A shrine against the wall, burnt incense, books on the shelf, a rolled-up meditation mat. Even the cup on the low table, the one he used for his herbal tea with pepper and ginger.
I hadn’t touched it... while he was alive. Now I wanted to. Now I would drink anything that connected me to him.
“Old man, I miss you so much.”
I exhaled slowly and forced myself to focus. I needed to pull myself together, and the best way was to start by changing clothes. Dirt ruined everything. It dragged you down to the level of an animal. A proper person should be clean, the old man had drilled that into me.
The cold water stung my face, as if jolting me out of a dream. I examined my hands — they were covered in rips, cuts,and dirt. I took off my shirt and threw it to the side. I wiped my shoulders and chest, and then froze, looking at my reflection.
My body... had changed. My build was broader. The lines of my muscles were different, more pronounced. Even the look in my eyes had changed, became deeper. I looked at the reflection and almost didn’t recognize it.
The cold water in the basin washed away the dirt and sweat, and cleansed my thoughts. Heavens, I needed to figure out what to do now.
My stomach rumbled again, as if a couple of bowls of noodles were just a light snack. I still had the other food thankfully. I sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, and ate slowly, lost in thought. Every movement was like a ritual to bring me back to the living.
