Page List


Font:  

The Drunkard lowered his head. “No. She died giving birth to our first child. It's been quite … difficult for me.”

“Is that why you want to be alone?” Malao asked.

“Yes,” the Drunkard said. “Partially.”

“That's really sad,” Malao said. “How long ago was that?”

The Drunkard looked at Fu. “Twelve years.”

Malao's eyes widened. Fu was twelve years old! He glanced at Fu.

Fu looked down.

“Why don't I get right to the point,” the Drunkard said. “I've been thinking a lot about you, Fu. You remind me so much of myself. Over the years, I've come to the conclusion that I am the way I am partly because I grew up in a temple without ever knowing my parents—just like you. It had an impact on me. It still does, I suppose. If you don't mind my asking, do you ever think about your parents?”

Fu shrugged. “Not really. I always assumed they were dead.”

The Drunkard's eyebrows raised. “Why did you assume that?”

“Because I was taken to Cangzhen as a baby,” Fu said. “If my parents weren't dead, it would mean that I had been abandoned. What kind of parent would—”

Fu stopped suddenly and looked up. He blushed. The Drunkard blushed, too.

“I'm sorry—” Fu began to say.

The Drunkard cleared his throat. “No, I'm the one who's sorry, Fu.” He began to limp away.

Malao punched Fu in the arm. “Say something!”

Fu shrugged.

“Argh!” Malao said. “Stubborn Pussycat!”

The Drunkard hobbled around the corner of the bun vendor's shop without looking back.

“Why didn't you say something?” Malao asked Fu.

“I don't know,” Fu replied.

“What do you mean you don't know?”

“I just don't know,” Fu said. He kicked the ground.

“Are you all right?” Malao asked.

“Yeah,” Fu said. “I'm fine.”

“How come you never told me about the Drunkard?”

Fu's voice lowered. “I don't want to talk about it, Malao.”

“Sorry,” Malao said. He patted Fu on the shoulder. “Do you want to get going?”

“Soon,” Fu said.

“Okay,” Malao said. “I'll be right back.” He walked over to the group of children in the center of the sunny village square. “All right, everyone, class is over,” Malao announced. “Get yourselves some water, and don't forget what I taught you!”

The village children began talking excitedly among themselves and filed out of the square.

“Fu!” someone called out.

A skinny boy was walking into the square. He wore an elegant silk robe and looked very fragile, like a piece of fine porcelain. In his hand was a small silk pouch. Ma was at his side.

Fu seemed to come out of his trance. “Hello, Ho!” he said, and walked over to Malao.

Malao did a double take. He leaned toward Fu and whispered,“ That's the kid you whacked with the spear?”

Fu swatted at Malao's head. Malao ducked.

“Hey, what was that for?” Malao asked.

Ma stepped up to Malao. “Did you just say something about my friend Ho?”

“Aahhh …”

Ma bent down toward Malao as though he was about to say more, but then he took a quick step back. His eyes narrowed. “Where did you get that stick?”

Malao glanced down and saw part of his decorated stick poking out of his robe. “This?” he replied. “It comes from Cangzhen.”

Ma took another step back. “No, it doesn't.”

“Sure it does,” Malao said, pulling the stick out of his robe. “I've been practicing with it for years. You can hold it if you want.”

“I don't want anything to do with that stick,” Ma said. “Or you.” He turned to Ho. “Come on, let's go.”

Ho shook his head. “I want to talk to Fu. I'll come find you later. Okay?”

Ma snorted. He nodded to Ho and then Fu, then walked away.

Malao slipped his stick back in his robe and looked at Ho. “What's wrong with him?”

“He doesn't like monkeys,” Ho replied. “And I think you … remind him of someone.”

“Who's that?” Fu asked.

“The Monkey King,” Ho said.

Malao twitched. “What? Why?”

“People say the Monkey King carries a stick like that,” Ho said.

“You mean the monkey king of legend?” Fu asked. “He carried an iron staff that could magically change size, not a wooden stick.”

“No,” Ho said. “Not that monkey king. There is a famous thief in these parts whose nickname is the Monkey King because he's a monkey-style kung fu master. Also, he supposedly lives with a troop of monkeys.”


Tags: Jeff Stone Five Ancestors Fantasy