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Authors: Cindy. Pon

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S I LV E R P H O E N I X

opened her mouth to apologize. Fei Ming interrupted with a shake of his head. “You remember it all. I recall little.”

They sat without speaking for a few moments, the melodic twittering of the songbirds filling the silence. “Are you seriously injured?” she fi nally managed.

He shook his head, his eyebrows lifted in amusement.

“The physician said I’m in perfect health. The dried blood on me worried everyone, but I was fi ne. Father assigned me to bed rest.” He smiled, lighting his face with boyish charm.

“I’ll be an invalid today for his peace of mind.”

She was unable to match his good humor. She needed to tell him the truth. Her stomach knotted, anticipating his reaction. “I have something to confess.” She fidgeted on the stool, looked at her worn cloth shoes. “I was responsible for hurting you.” Ai Ling met his gaze for the fi rst time.

Fei Ming did not look angry. He tilted his head in puzzlement.

“I think I have some sort of protective spirit with me,” she said. “I can’t control it.”

His face relaxed, and he examined her with a look of understanding. “I know what it’s like not to be in control of yourself. You’re no more at fault for what happened than I am.”

Relief rose within her. She gave a wan smile in gratitude.

Fei Ming studied her until she grew uncomfortable once more.

“How did you do it?” he asked.

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Ai Ling considered the question before she answered. “I don’t truly understand it myself.”

He picked at the embroidered quilt with restless fingers.

“Please don’t tell my father about your protective spirit. He’s a superstitious man and may not understand.”

Master Tan returned to the bedchamber before she could reply. He held a bundle of papers wrapped neatly with dark blue ribbon. “These are letters from Chen Yong’s father.

We searched, but we couldn’t find him. I regret my harsh words.”

“Master Tan, I . . . Chen Yong and I have gone our separate ways. I’ll not see him again.”

“Nonsense. Chen Yong was as worried for you as I was for Fei Ming when we discovered you were both missing. You have the best chance of meeting him again and giving him this. Please, if you will.”

Ai Ling didn’t know what else to say and accepted the bundle.

“And for you, a small gift. A token of our appreciation for saving my eldest son.” Master Tan handed Ai Ling a long blackwood box. She opened the lid and blinked with shock.

Nestled within emerald satin rested a dagger, its blade the length of her hand. The short ivory hilt was encrusted with red jewels, the butt of it covered in gold.

“This is beautiful, Master Tan. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Thank me by taking it to the Ping Peaks and my friend 84

S I LV E R P H O E N I X

Lao Pan. He can bless it for you, as you’re the rightful owner.

It will protect you in the future from evil spirits,” Master Tan said, his face intent.

“What’s this, Father? I thought we were giving Ai Ling a pretty bracelet or ring. A weapon is no gift for a young woman,” Fei Ming said. He spoke what she was too polite to say.

Master Tan removed the dagger from the box, held it by its exquisite hilt. The sharp blade caught the sun and scattered diamonds of light across the bedchamber walls.

“I don’t give such a dangerous weapon without much consideration, son.” He placed the dagger in a black leather scabbard and handed it to Ai Ling. He indicated that she should put it on. She strapped the thin belt around her waist. It felt strange, yet comforting.

“You’re both young and naive to the mysteries of our world—the wonder and danger that lurk outside our doorsteps, and sometimes within.” His gaze swept them both.

“What happened the other night was horrific. We can’t know why either of you were targeted. Lao Pan blessed our home yesterday. You’ll need protection, too, Ai Ling.”

“If Lao Pan is not too far . . .”

“His home is on the way to the Palace,” Master Tan said.

“It would give me great peace of mind if you met with him.”

He clasped her shoulder with a warmth that made her think of Father, made her long for her own family. “Chen Yong told me about your search for your father. The fame of his 85

Cindy Pon

intelligence, wise counsel, and kindness traveled far.”

Embarrassed, Ai Ling knew full well that her father’s infamy traveled even further.

As if reading her thoughts, Master Tan said, “I don’t believe that anyone but an honest and brilliant man can raise a daughter like you, Ai Ling.”

She could only nod.

“Will you rest here tonight?” Master Tan asked.

“Thank you, but no. I’ve already tarried long enough. I must fi nd my father.”

“Of course. I’ll make sure you’re given the best provisions for the rest of your journey. Please at least share a midday meal with us before you leave.”

Ai Ling could never refuse a good meal, and agreed, smiling.

It was a feast more than a midday meal. Master Tan must have asked his chef to prepare the best. Ai Ling could not recall a time that she had indulged in dishes this extravagant: roasted pheasant, tender spring vegetables, hand-pulled longevity noodles, spotted porcelain river crabs, and emperor lobsters, named for their large size—dish after dish was brought to the table.

At the end of the meal, Master Tan stood to give a toast.

“Ai Ling, we wanted to send you off with a full stomach.

May you never go hungry, even during your travels.”

At this, a servant entered bearing a package wrapped in 86

S I LV E R P H O E N I X

dark cloth and handed it to Master Tan. The older man opened it to reveal many small sacks tied with hemp rope.

“I’ve made sure you have enough food to last you your entire journey to the Palace. And a little beyond that.” Master Tan smiled. “It’s not heavy rations. There’s salted beef, squid, dried fruits, nuts, and biscuits. Also some fresh fruit if you’re willing to carry the burden.”

Master Tan gestured for the servant, who took the provisions away. “I’ve also had a detailed map copied for your travels. It shows the best route to take to the Palace. Lao Pan’s cave is marked on it as well.”

Overwhelmed by the generosity, Ai Ling struggled for the right words. “Master Tan, I can’t thank you enough for your kindness. . . .” Her voice caught in her throat. Was Father even at the Palace?

Both Fei Ming and Master Tan saw Ai Ling to the front gate. “If ever you need anything, just ask,” Master Tan said.

She remembered Bao Er. “Could the boy who helps at the inn come and visit your gardens? He has heard that the fish in your pond are very big.”

Master Tan threw his head back and laughed. “They are indeed. We not only have fish native to Xia, but some collected from other lands. Your little friend is welcome to visit anytime.”

Ai Ling waved good-bye, her heart full. She took a detour to the inn to pick up her knapsack. Bao Er skidded to her door.

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“Leaving? So soon, miss?” His thin shoulders slumped as he watched her gather her belongings.

“Yes, Bao Er. But I leave with good news. Master Tan said you can stop by and look at his fi sh whenever you please.”

The boy hopped about in glee before throwing his arms around her neck. “Thank you, miss! You’ll come back and visit, won’t you?”

She swallowed the knot in her throat and replied yes, not knowing if she would ever return. Her thoughts were on Chen Yong as she left the city. He blamed her for what had happened. What was the use of carrying his father’s letters when their paths would probably never cross again?

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C H A P T E R E I G H T

Ai Ling walked at a brisk pace, already wondering where she would find a place to sleep. She had been frightened the first night she left home and walked through the darkness, but that was before she had encountered so much evil. It was as if the denizens of the underworld stalked her. Ai Ling shook that terrifying thought from her mind. But wasn’t it true? From the monster in the lake who had told her Father was dead, to the demon that had possessed Fei Ming. She recognized it now as the red-faced Spirit Eater from
The
Book of the Dead
. Was it possible?

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