“Whoa,” Malao said, wide-eyed. “Was that an apology?”
“Don't push me, Malao.”
Malao giggled and climbed down, carefully avoiding the tree's irritating needles. By the time he hit the ground, Fu was quite a ways up the trail. Malao jogged to Fu's side.
“I swear Ying only had three scrolls in his robe,” Malao said. “He was probably reading the fourth one somewhere else. He must have put it away. Or maybe he set it down and someone else picked it up. Or maybe—”
“Or maybe you could stop talking about it,” Fu interrupted.
“Oh, sorry,” Malao said. “How about if we talk about something else? Tell me what you've been doing. Did you miss me?” He grinned.
“Can we just walk in silence for once?”
“Come on, Fu. You've had several different adventures, and you haven't told me about any of them. Tell me how you defeated Tonglong.”
Fu didn't respond.
“All right,” Malao said. “Then tell me about the young tiger. Or tell me how you met the Governor. Or—”
“That's enough, Malao. I told you, I don't want to talk. Please.”
“But—”
“No.”
Malao pouted. “Fine, then how about if I tell you about my adventures with a huge bandit named Bear.”
“No,” Fu said. “I just want a little peace and quiet.”
Malao stopped and put his hands on his hips. “I'm not going to stop until you tell me at least one story. Why don't you tell me about some of the people I might meet in the village? Did you meet anyone our age?”
Fu stopped and turned back to face Malao. “The Governor has a son our age. Everyone calls him Ho, but I wouldn't be surprised if his name was actually Ho Dao. Are you satisfied?”
“Ho Dao?” Malao said.“ ‘Forgiving’? What does he have to forgive you for?”
“I don't want to talk about it.”
“Come on, Fu. Tell me how you met the Governor's son.”
“No. It's a very long story.”
“Just give me the short version,” Malao said. “You could—”
Fu growled and leaned his face in close to Malao's. “I smashed a spear shaft into Ho's ear so hard, I nearly made him deaf for life. And you know what he did to deserve it? Nothing. How do you like that story?”
Malao began to squirm. “Sorry, Fu. I … I didn't know.”
Fu stared hard at Malao. “That's right. You don't know. When I say I don't want to talk, I really mean it. Especially when it comes to Ho. I did something wrong and it makes me feel terrible.”
“I'm sorry,” Malao said again.
Fu grunted and walked away.
Malao waited a bit before following Fu up the trail. He wanted to give Fu plenty of space.
Malao followed Fu this way the rest of the morning. On several occasions, Malao thought he caught a glimpse of something watching him from high in the trees. Something white. Over time, however, Malao realized that he was just imagining things. The patches he hoped were monkey fur turned out to be sunlight.
Malao really missed the white monkey. Part of him wanted to believe that his new friend would be waiting for him at the village, since that's where they'd been headed when they'd last seen each other. But another part of him wondered why the white monkey would even bother. After all, it had been shot trying to help him. Malao wouldn't blame the white monkey one bit if it wanted nothing more to do with him.
Malao sighed. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice that Fu had stopped on the trail.
“Ooof!” Malao muttered as he slammed into Fu. Fu didn't seem to notice. His head was cocked to one side and he appeared to be listening to something farther up the trail. Malao listened, too. After a moment, Malao thought he heard voices. Aggressive voices.
“Come on!” Fu said excitedly. “We're almost there!”
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Malao asked. “Those people don't sound very nice—”
“You'll see,” Fu said, grabbing Malao by the collar of his robe. “Follow me!”
As Malao followed, he paid close attention to the sounds ahead. To his surprise, the closer he got, the more it sounded like group kung fu drills back at Cangzhen.
Malao and Fu soon reached a wall of tall bushes that ran parallel to the trail. Fu motioned for Malao to stay close and pointed to a section of the bushes that had been trampled. It looked as if a horse had barreled through there. Fu walked through the trampled area into a huge square that was almost completely surrounded by the same tall bushes.
Malao followed Fu and saw nearly one hundred children practicing kung fu. The practice session was led by a large boy with intense eyes and wild black hair. He was tall and powerful, and his heavy gray peasant's robe snapped loudly with every punch he threw. Malao noticed immediately that the boy's hands were not folded into typical fists. Instead, they were crudely formed tiger claws.