86 The Ministry of Public Works Foils a Plo (1/2)
An Ning left the banquet immediately after Ling Wan was revived. Ling Nam wanted to rush to the emperor and tell him what happened but An Ning pulled him back angrily.
”You do that and everyone will know the capital is not as secure as everyone believes. Shut your trap until we've figured out what this is all about.”
An Ning then ordered Ling Nam to inform his majesty that the empress was going somewhere to take care of some matters and that he mustn't worry. She will be back before the banquet ended.
”Don't tell anyone and behave as you would normally. And tell them to serve dinner about half an hour from now.”
With that, An Ning and Ling Wan along with the men rushed outside the school grounds and walked the few blocks to the ministry of public works' headquarters. The courtyard was already filled with people when they opened the gates and went inside. They seemed to be waiting, tense and nervous and eerily silent.
When they saw An Ning, the tension almost magnified into unspoken dread. An Ning was still wearing her emerald green dress, still looking as immaculate as a highly pampered young woman about to enjoy her expensive dinner with her rich fiancee. But her eyes gave them pause. They were chilling and cold, deadly as a rattlesnake's bite. The cold orbs raked over their faces and they swallowed.
”Tell me.”
The two words were a command as were the implacable tone of the imperious voice.
A young man separated himself from the group and bowed. He had medium-length hair that streamed around his shoulders in a black cloud, direct eyes that never wavered from her gaze, and somehow he seemed more solid and taller although the men around him looked even bigger and meaner.
”Your grace, my name is Xiang Yu. We were outside, with permission from Master Ling to...erm..,” at this point Xiang Yu stopped and a tide of red suffused his cheeks. ”Well, we were at this place doing our own...er...business when this young gentleman came in. He was very drunk and was making quite a raucous.”
As Xiang Yu put it, they recognized the young man as a student of the Zhengyi sect because of the distinctive Taoist yin and yang symbol on his robe. The young man took a seat at a table not far from them and ordered a drink. The proprietress wanted to protest but the man flung a bag of silver on the table, which made the the proprietress' eyes popped out. She hurriedly left and came back with a big jug.
Attracted by the young man's money, a couple of beauties in Xiang Yu's group's table left and sidled closer to the next table and started talking to the inebriated young man. The attention seemed to flatter him because he started to boast about a big job which he said, if he and his friends did splendidly, will make them not only famous but rich beyond their wildest dreams.
The beauties were not interested in his ramblings but encouraged him anyway so he would start throwing his money about. With such an engaged and enraptured audience, the beauties by then were wrapped around him like snakes, the young man said that it was supposed to be a secret. But Chang Chang was very angry and humiliated and she wanted revenge. She already had some men with her hidden somewhere anyway so why not do it tonight? Wasn't that the reason why they participated in the games? To destabilize and sow dissent in the capital?
The beauties laughed off his story.They didn't know who Chang Chang was. They didn't understand big words such as 'destabilize' and 'dissent' especially when it referred to the capital. All they had interest in was the clink of silver in the young man's bag. As long as that bag was still full of silver, then they were deaf, blind and mute to whatever the young man was talking or inferring about, whatever it was. All the beauties cared about was that clinking sound and nothing else.
The young man's tale, however, effectively removed the drunken haze clouding Xiang Yu's and his companion's fuzzy brains. They looked at each, suddenly alert and vigilant. Without saying a word to each other, the group stayed put, intending to follow the man when he leaves the establishment.
Suddenly, another group wearing the same Taoist design on their robes entered. Unlike the young man, each man in the group was not drunk, was not disorderly, was not even looking for a good time when they entered the brothel house. When the group saw the young man, they immediately pounced on him, their eyes wandering about at the same time before settling for a second on Xiang Yu's group's table, which had returned to its raucous drunken state.
The men carried the young man out. The young man protested and screamed but somebody clipped him on the head and he went out like a light. Xiang Yu and his comrades waited then followed them outside.
The men carrying their friend walked for about half an hour then entered a house. Xiang Yu was
surprised to see the location of the place, in the lower market district, where gangs and ruffians and low lifes usually hang out. What where reputable students from the Zhengyi sect doing in a place like this?
Xiang Yu and his group decided to wait. They didn't wait long. A steady stream of people started arriving soon after the Zhingye students entered the house. Big men, muscular men, burly men, strong men, men who look like soldiers out on a mission. Xiang Yu signaled to a comrade who immediately scaled the walls of the house to listen in from the roof. Another guy circled around the back for a closer look.
Xiang Yu and the rest of the men waited where they were, watching the comings and goings in the house from a distance. When the spies came back, they learned that the sect was planning an attack that night during the banquet. The army was not in the capital and the emperor was only relying on a small number of guards to defend the palace. The capital was left vulnerable after the previous attack, which meant it was the best time to strike the blow when it was on its knees while barely hobbling on a crutch.
Xiang Yu listened to the report with a conflicted heart. Someone was planning on doing the same thing they did except this group might actually succeed where they failed. He raised his head and was not surprised to see the question in his comrades' eyes.
”Let us go back,” he said, with something like a regretful sigh. ”We have to prepare to foil an attack.”
They made their counter plans then fanned out to every entrance and exit, ready to defend the city they once brutally assaulted and raped. The palace had disarmed them when they surrendered but they have their axes, their hammers, all the tools they use to rebuild torn buildings and houses. They also have their hands and their skills in bashing an enemy's head against a rock until he lies bleeding on the ground dead.
The assault came fast and furious but the enemy was pushed back hard. They were clearly taken aback, expecting a futile resistance then the eventual defeat of the monarch. The fighting went unnoticed since everyone was in the temple, watching from higher ground the hiss and crackle of hundreds of fireworks lighting the skies like a bulb.
Ling Wan listened to the voice narrating the tale and nearly died from shame. He sank to his feet and touched his forehead to the ground. These brave men undertook a deadly task without even telling him, risking their lives while he was enjoying a quiet time at home with his wife and son. He felt deeply ashamed by his ignorance.
Xiang Yu finished his story and met the empress' still glacial eyes. She had shown no expression while listening to his tale. She had stood there quietly and regally without moving. Now, her eyes roamed the faces watching her with fearful yet hopeful expressions. An Ning's lips curved in a gentle smile.
”You did well. Thank you.”
The praise, unequivocal in its sincerity, flustered the men. Their faces blushed in embarrassment, their shy eyes glancing away from each other.
An Ning looked down on the still prostrate figure of Ling Wan.
”Don't blame yourself, Ling Wan. Your men were just trying to protect you. What do you know of fighting anyway? You'll only get yourself killed or get somebody killed because you were on the way.”
Her unconscious use of the words 'your men' stunned Ling Wan speechless. So did the men who could only gaped at her. Xiang Yu opened his mouth to say something when suddenly a loud scream was heard inside.
”My brother, your grace,” Xiang Yu said, turning his head in the direction of the sound. ”He's badly hurt.”
”It's his arm, your grace. It's...it's bad,” Ling Wan stammered.
Another scream rang out, more guttural this time. Xiang Yu flinched then hurried inside without another word. An Ning hesitated and followed him.
On a bed, in a room cramped by a number of frightened people, a young boy was lying in a pool of his own blood. He was twisting and turning, whimpering and groaning wretchedly as a middle-aged man in a bloodied robe prepares to cut his right arm off with a saw.
”What are you doing?” An Ning barked angrily, hurrying forward.
The middle-aged man eyed her doubtfully and turned questioningly at Xiang Yu.
”Your grace, we need to do something to stop the bleeding. His arm...the doctor said we can't save it anymore.”
”Get out!” An Ning commanded, searing the cowering doctor with her glance.
”But...”
An Ning pushed him out the door with one hand. She turned and looked at the other people inside the room.
”Scram!”
They scrammed, dragging their tails hanging between their legs.
An Ning walked to the bed and stared down at the dying boy. He looked very young, his round face still retaining the chubbiness of baby fat. He screamed again, his eyes clouded and hazy with pain.
”Give me your knife,” An Ning said, holding her hand out to Xiang Yu.
”Your grace? What...?”
”Your knife.”
Xiang Yu reluctantly pulled out his knife from its sheathe and handed it to her.
An Ning didn't even look at the blade before cutting her own hand with it. The blood flowed, red and fresh. Ling Wan was so scared that he jumped to his feet but before he could reach her, An Ning had already turned her palm downwards, allowing the blood to flow then drop on the nearly severed arm of the boy on the bed.
She watched without expression as the blood did its magic and immediately healed the ugly gaping wound. Then she fed the boy some of the red liquid, watching as the pallid face slowly regained its color,the lines of pain on the tender young brow gradually easing up.An Ning took a clean cloth and wet it with water from a jug standing nearby then wiped the blood on the arm and the tears on the boy's young face. She then tucked the blanket around him, brushing the hair from his brow with a light touch from her fingertips before straightening up.
”He's going to be alright now,” she said.
But the two men were no longer listening to her. They were looking at her hand, the smooth pale palm where she injured herself. She didn't seemed to be in pain, she wasn't bleeding anymore, and she was looking at them and behaving like it was the most natural thing.