IN THE END, Xiahou Lian had to continue carrying Xie Jinglan on his back. He returned to Qiuwu Courtyard crawling on all fours.
Aunt Lan and Lianxiang stood anxiously at the gate, watching from afar as a figure crawled across the ground, carrying a second figure. They muttered to themselves, wondering what kind of scoundrels would behave so out in full view. Upon closer inspection, however, they realized the person on top was none other than their young master!
The two women rushed forward, frantically helping Xie Jinglan onto Aunt Lan's back. Lianxiang touched his forehead. "He's burning up!" she exclaimed.
Aunt Lan carried Xie Jinglan into the courtyard, shouting to Lianxiang, "Go fetch the doctor!"
Xiahou Lian, lying limp on the ground like a dead fish, called out weakly, "Don't forget about me! I have a fever t..." Before he could finish, his vision went dark, and he passed out.
When he woke up again, he found himself lying in the firewood shed.
What am I doing here?
He lay in a daze for a moment, realizing that his memories ended with their return to Qiuwu Courtyard. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall what had happened after.
His throat was parched. It seemed as if there were metal in his mouth, bringing with it the salty pungency of rust. Although he wanted to cough, he couldn't. He crawled to the door and pushed it hard, only to hear a lock clink.
The door was locked. What the hell is going on?!
The shed was drafty, and Xiahou Lian's teeth chattered from the cold. He'd wrapped Xie Jinglan in his own padded coat, leaving himself only two thin layers of clothing. Curling up like a cat, he shivered uncontrollably.
"Xiao-Lian! Xiao-Lian!"
Xiahou Lian's eyes snapped open as Lianxiang's round face peeked through a small window in the wall. Seeing Xiahou Lian awake, she squeezed three steamed buns through the bars.
Xiahou Lian crawled over and picked up the buns, holding them to his chest as he shouted up to Lianxiang, "Jie, I need water!"
Lianxiang attempted to push a waterskin through the bars, but the gap was too small; it wouldn't fit. "I'll pour water in from here. Open your mouth and catch it."
Xiahou Lian did as she said. Water trickled down; he barely managed to catch a few sips.
"Did you get any?" Lianxiang asked, her hands gripping the bars, face grave with concern.
"I got some. I'm fine," Xiahou Lian said, chomping into a bun. "What's going on? How come I'm here?"
"Just after you and the young master returned to the courtyard, the mistress's people came to take you away. They accused you of being disrespectful and inciting the young master to misbehave. Then they had you locked up! Guixiang from the study told us you were here, so I came in secret," Lianxiang said, holding back tears. "You stupid brat. I warned you not to cause trouble. Now look what's happened! Hey, has your fever gone down? Do you feel any better?"
I don't think so. Xiahou Lian didn't need to touch his face to know that he was flushed red. He felt like he could've fried an egg on his cheek. "That old witch probably wants me dead," he told Lianxiang. "She can't touch the young master for now, so she's taking it out on me. Jie, can you find Dai-xiansheng and ask him to rescue me?"
Dai-xiansheng wasn't in the manor, however, and it was the middle of the night. How was Lianxiang supposed to find him? She opened her mouth but couldn't bring herself to tell Xiahou Lian the truth. Instead she said, "Alright, wait here. They say a scourge can live for a thousand years, and you're a major scourge, so you'd better hold on."
"Don't worry, I'm as tough as a cockroach. I won't die that easily."
After Lianxiang left, Xiahou Lian got moving as well. He devoured the buns and felt some of his strength return. Then, hauling his sore limbs around, he cleared out a space, gathered some dry firewood, and began rubbing tinder together. His hands were raw by the time a spark finally caught, but he pushed on until the wood burst into flames.
Warmed by the fire, he felt himself returning to life. He curled up once more beside the flames.
The fire was small, and Xiahou Lian's back was still cold. He was a little worried—was he really going to die here? An assassin of Qiye Garden dying at the hands of a feeble old woman would be such a disgrace.
Xiahou Lian stared into the flames. His eyelids drooped uncontrollably, as if weighted by stones. As he lay in a stupor, the door appeared to open, and a hunched old man walked in. Xiahou Lian's lips were pried apart, and a bitter liquid was forced down his throat. His eyes snapped open; struggling fiercely, he grabbed at the man's hand, which seemed as strong as iron.
The old man let go, looking at him with annoyance. "That was medicine for your cold. Why are you struggling? Do you want to live or not?"
The old man had a head of white hair and a long, beaked nose. One eye was cloudy, as if covered by a film. Although he usually kept his head down, he now looked directly at Xiahou Lian, undisguised hostility burning in his gaze.
Anyone who saw those eyes could tell that this was no ordinary old man. After all, killers were said to look different from ordinary people. And Xiahou Lian knew where that difference was: It lay in someone's eyes.
Those with blood on their hands carried bloodlust in their very gaze. They had witnessed the fragility of the dying. To them, humans were no different from chickens, ducks, or dogs—if you sliced their throats, their bodies fell limp in just the same manner.
Xiahou Lian understood in an instant. "So you're the mole from Qiye Garden! Forgive my rudeness, sir."
The old man set down a box of food and scanned Xiahou Lian from toe to head. With every inch his gaze rose, he sighed, until finally his eyes reached Xiahou Lian's face. He looked at Xiahou Lian as though the boy was mud that couldn't be molded, despairing over the Garden's tenuous future.
Xiahou Lian felt as if he'd been stripped bare, then prodded and inspected all over. Discomfited, he turned around and drank the medicine quickly.
Once he finished, the old man sighed again. "I've heard of you, Xiahou Lian. Just as I expected, you're very much like the Garuda."
"Of course." Xiahou Lian grinned.
The old man continued, "However, I didn't count on you picking up all of her bullshit and none of her brilliance."
Xiahou Lian had no response.
"Listen to me," the old man said. "You're not cut out to be an assassin. An assassin must be discreet and deflect attention. Moreover, they must be ruthless, able to kill even gods and Buddhas standing in their way. You're too mischievous, and your heart is too kind—neither quality suits an assassin. That Xie Jinglan is just a young master doomed to die in this manor. How can you kill when you care so much for others?" Spittle flew from the old man's mouth as he reached his conclusion: "Go back to the mountains, kid, and become a farmer. Don't bring shame on our Garden."
"I don't believe you," Xiahou Lian objected. "If assassins must be heartless, how come you're saving me? Why did Uncle Duan take care of me? With my saber, I'll kill those who deserve to die and cut down those who must be felled!"
"I didn't kill you because you're not my target. I've helped you because Duan Jiu asked me to. Hmph! If someone put a price on your head, I wouldn't hesitate to kill you! Kid, you may have the bodhi saber, but you lack the heart for murder. An assassin without that is doomed!"
"Who says I don't have the heart for it?" retorted Xiahou Lian. "Give me a saber, and I'll kill that old witch Lady Xiao right now! One strike; I promise I won't hesitate."
"That's not the heart to kill; it's the desire for revenge. Killing someone you hate is easy. But what if you have to kill a stranger or even a loved one? For instance, could you bring yourself to kill Xie Jinglan?" The old man's cloudy eye stared at Xiahou Lian. "If Lady Xiao paid Qiye Garden for Xie Jinglan's life, I guarantee that your mother, the Garuda, wouldn't hesitate to cut him down."
"But she'd never kill me," Xiahou Lian said quietly, head bowed. "No one can be completely heartless."
"Stubborn brat," the old man sneered. "Fine, I'll give you a choice. You know your situation—Lady Xiao sees Xie Jinglan as a thorn in her side. When she crushes him, there will be collateral damage, and it'll be you who's dragged into it. If you give up on being an assassin, I'll get you out of here. Qiye Garden has a rule: An assassin captured by the enemy must commit suicide. But since you're not an assassin, I can save you."
Without hesitation, Xiahou Lian said, "Go, then. I'll stay here."
At this point, whether he became an assassin was secondary. He simply couldn't leave Xie Jinglan alone. Whatever. Regardless of whether this old man saved Xiahou Lian, Uncle Duan wouldn't just have stood by and done nothing.
The old man glared at him. "Stubborn mule," he muttered. Huffing in rage, he pulled a scroll from his robe and tossed it to Xiahou Lian. "You have five minutes to memorize this map," he told the boy. "Remember every word I say next."
Xiahou Lian jolted and sat up straight. Was he finally getting a mission? Was he a full-fledged Garden assassin at last?
He hurriedly unrolled the scroll. It was a map of the Xie manor, detailing the property's walkways, pavilions, paths, doors, windows, rock gardens, and even trees. Xiahou Lian had already familiarized himself with most of the estate through all his wandering, and considering his near-eidetic memory, five minutes was more than enough for him to memorize the map in its entirety.
"If you can get out, find an opportunity to sneak into Xie Bingfeng's study and locate his letters. Make a list of everyone he corresponds with. Remember, be careful. Don't expose yourself. If something goes wrong, prioritize your own safety and retreat. If you fail, someone else will take over."
"Don't worry. It'll be a piece of cake."
Xiahou Lian knew Qiye Garden's code: If a planned strike failed, an assassin retreated immediately. Garden assassins never took extreme risks to kill targets; training an assassin often took over a decade, so the Garden couldn't afford to lose them. Xiahou Lian had met fewer than twenty assassins from the mountain.
As he studied the map, doubts arose in Xiahou Lian's mind. "Why do we need that list? Will doing this…harm the Xie family?"
The old man snorted, clearly frustrated. "I told you that you aren't cut out for this! You constantly worry about this or that, yet you still want to be an assassin? Not to worry. It's probably nothing serious. Xie Bingfeng most likely offended some official and spurred them to look for dirt on him. Proof of a cabal, for instance."
Cabal? Xiahou Lian mulled this over, relying on his limited knowledge, and decided it didn't sound like a serious crime. In the stories he'd read, officials were executed for treason or for defiling the imperial harem—not for making friends.
"That man is a hypocrite. A fake gentleman. If he were fired, it would be no great loss." Xiahou Lian thumped his chest. "Leave it to me!"
The old man took back the map and tossed a blanket to Xiahou Lian. Then he picked up the food box and left, locking the shed door behind him.
"Since you've got time now, you might as well study your saber techniques, kid," his voice instructed. "From what I see, when it comes to working hard, you can't compete with even Xie Jinglan. After all, that kid recites poetry even while taking a dump."
Xiahou Lian looked up. The old man stood outside but peered in through a small gap in the door. Xiahou Lian could only see his cloudy eye. For some reason, he felt the old man was looking at him as if he were already dead.
He recalled Uncle Duan saying that if he did receive a placard, he wouldn't survive past twenty.
Bah. Xiahou Lian snorted. They're all blind. Don't look down on me. Like they say, don't pick on poor young people!
Xiahou Lian unfolded the blanket. Tucked inside was a copy of Qiye Garden's saber manual.
He'd flipped through the volume countless times, but he always skipped the first page, going straight to the saber techniques. This time, for whatever reason, he didn't rush to that section but opened the manual to the first page. It contained only one sentence: I bestow upon you the bodhi saber. Kill and become enlightened.