Malao knew Tonglong meant “praying mantis” in Cantonese Chinese. He also knew how rare it was for people in their region to have a Cantonese name. Most people spoke Mandarin Chinese.

Malao wondered how Tonglong got his name. Malao and his four brothers all happened to have Cantonese names—thanks to Grandmaster—and each was named after his spirit animal. The same was true for Ying. Malao meant “monkey” in Cantonese. Ying meant “eagle.” A praying mantis seemed like an odd spirit animal to Malao, yet it suited Tonglong perfectly. He had a strange, insect-like quality.

For some reason, Malao couldn't take his eyes off Tonglong. It may have been the way the smoke mixed with the moonlight, but Tonglong reminded Malao of someone. …

Malao shook his head and tried to focus on something else. He stared at the object on the ground again. The smoke cleared for a moment, and Malao noticed that the large, round object was flesh-colored and streaked with red. It was someone's head! And it looked a lot like—

“Grandmaster!” Malao gasped.

“Hush,” a voice whispered from behind Malao.

Malao jumped. He turned and saw his brother Hok on a limb behind him.

“Hok! Did you see—”

“Not here, Malao. Follow me.”

Malao watched Hok drift silently through the trees, his robe fluttering against his slender frame like orange kite paper. Malao swallowed hard and followed.

Hok stopped in the forked limbs of an enormous, half-dead elm. The dead half had a large hollow in its massive trunk, high off the ground. Hok eased inside. Malao scurried in after him.

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“Greetings, little brother,” Hok whispered as he sat down. “I apologize for sneaking up on you like that. I hope I didn't scare you.”

“D-don't worry about it,” Malao stammered. “Did you see that? Grandmaster's head—”

“I know,” Hok said. “It's over now. Sit.”

“Over?” Malao said as he began to pace. “You call that over? We have to do something! We—”

Hok raised a pale hand. “Slow down, Malao. Please. We'll act when the time is right, but now is not the time. Why don't you take a deep breath and tell me what else you saw?”

Malao took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He sat down across from Hok. “I didn't see anything else,” Malao sighed. “I was only in the tree a moment before you came. How long have you been back?”

“Not long enough, unfortunately,” Hok said. “I wish I had returned sooner. Perhaps I could have helped Grandmaster … or Fu.”

Malao's eyes widened. “Fu?”

“Yes,” Hok said. “After I circled back here, I saw Fu arguing with Ying at the main gate. Grandmaster was there, too. Ying sliced Fu's cheek pretty badly with his chain whip. Then he killed Grandmaster.”

“Yingkilled Grandmaster?” Malao asked.

“Yes,” Hok said. “He sent a lead ball through Grandmaster's heart with a qiang”

Malao shivered and lowered his head. “P-please don't tell me any more.”

“I'm sorry, little brother,” Hok replied. He leaned toward Malao and his voice softened. “Let me tell you about Fu. He got away. I chased after him to see if I could help in some manner, but I never managed to catch up.”

Malao sniffled and looked up. “Huh? You couldn't catch Fu?”

Hok shook his head and grinned. “No. I never imagined Fu could run so fast. I think he may have the dragon scrolls.”

“That must be why Ying is so upset,” Malao said.

Hok nodded slowly. “I think you're right.”

“What happened to Fu?”

“I don't know. When it became clear that I could not catch him, I decided to head back here to learn more about what Ying was up to. That's when I saw you on the tree limb.” Hok shook a finger playfully at Malao. “You really should have hidden yourself better, you know.”

Malao rolled his eyes. “Give me a break. I'm wearing an orange robe and orange pants.” He grinned.

Hok smiled back.

Malao looked at the moonlight reflecting off Hok's pale, bald head and said, “Do you know anything about that soldier Tonglong? The one with all the hair?”

“I think he may be Ying's number one soldier,” Hok said. “And I have a feeling he made some kind of big mistake that allowed Fu to obtain the scrolls. Ying seemed to put most of the blame on him.”

“Yeah, I heard Ying shouting,” Malao said. He scratched his head. “So what are we going to do now?”

Hok stared at Malao, unblinking. “We're going to stay here and watch Ying.”

“Stay here and watch Ying?” Malao repeated. “Grandmaster told us to run and then separate. You even agreed that that made the most sense.”




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