Chapter 18:
Fallen Waves
THE COURTYARD WAS FULL of corpses, the gutters streaming with blood. The assassins were counting the bodies when a tall man clad in black dragged Xiahou Lian over by the collar and tossed him onto the pile. Xiahou Lian’s white undergarments were instantly soaked with blood, its stench overwhelming his nostrils and turning his stomach. As he struggled to his feet, he glimpsed Xie Bingfeng’s and Lady Xiao’s bodies. They were still locked in an embrace, their faces frozen in grotesque expressions of terror.
The assassins encircled Xiahou Lian, staring.
“Mahoraga, what happened?” asked Uncle Duan.
The Mahoraga removed his mask to reveal a cold, stern face. “He let someone escape.”
Uncle Duan glanced at Xiahou Lian, then asked, “Who?”
The assassin who’d been playing hopscotch earlier chimed in. “I don’t know. He gave whoever it was his clothes and mask. The Kinnara and I thought it was him, so we let them go. Right, Kinnara?”
Qiu Ye didn’t speak. He simply patted Xiahou Lian on the head.
“Who gave you the gall to let our prey escape, Xiahou Lian?” asked one assassin coldly.
Another assassin laughed. “Must’ve been the Garuda. His mother’s achievements give him more than enough confidence—there’s nothing he won’t do. Once, he even plucked all the feathers off my hen.”
“I’ve checked,” the assassin counting the bodies reported. “All hundred and eight members of the Xie household are here.”
The assassins exchanged glances. “Are you sure?” asked the Mahoraga.
“I’m sure,” the assassin replied.
The hopscotch-playing assassin protested, “I definitely saw someone wearing his clothes leave, though. They also had your dagger, Uncle Duan.”
Uncle Duan wasn’t at liberty to mourn his lost weapon. “I think we can let this one go. We’re not short any heads, so it’s not the end of the world.” Turning to the Mahoraga, he added, “No need to be so hard on a child.”
“A child?” the Mahoraga sneered. “I’ve been killing people since I was twelve. No one ever told me that I was still a child. Besides, the abbot is strict and impartial. If he finds out, we’ll all be whipped.”
Uncle Duan sighed and turned to scold Xiahou Lian. “Tell us, you brat! Who did you let go? You always cause trouble the moment I take my eyes off you!”
“A young girl of the Xie household,” Xiahou Lian replied hoarsely.
“Why wasn’t her name on our list?” asked the Mahoraga.
Xiahou Lian mixed his lie with some truth. “Xie Bingfeng always neglected her. And he was so offended over something she’d said that he didn’t even have her memorize the memorial. They probably never even added her name to the Xie household registry.”
“Where did she go?” the Mahoraga pressed.
“I’m not sure.”
The Mahoraga drew a dagger and pressed it to Xiahou Lian’s chin, forcing the boy to look into his cold eyes. “Don’t play games. Spit out everything you know.”
Xiahou Lian met his gaze without flinching.
Something glinted in Qiu Ye’s fingertips, and a blade as thin as a cicada’s wing pressed against the Mahoraga’s wrist. Qiu Ye smiled. “Qiye Garden forbids unauthorized punishment.”
The Mahoraga narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to protect him, Kinnara?”
Qiu Ye calmly increased the blade’s pressure on the Mahoraga’s wrist, forcing the other man to lower the dagger. His smile didn’t waver. “I’m simply upholding the temple’s rules.”
The Mahoraga didn’t argue further and reluctantly sheathed his dagger.
In Qiye Garden, the authority of the Eight Legions was second only to the abbot. The seven legions other than the Garuda were evenly matched in strength. Qiu Ye was famous for Qiushui, a double-edged blade as thin as a cicada’s wing that was designed to be held between his fingers. His fingertips twirled it endlessly. Qiu Ye had assassinated countless master martial artists, but it was his role as Qiye Garden’s executioner that truly stirred fear. He was the leader of the Hall of Executions’ assassins, so any traitor to Qiye Garden would meet their end under his blade.
The Mahoraga was also one of the Eight Legions, however. Even Qiu Ye had to show him some respect.
“So you still remember the temple’s rules? Then, as the executioner, do you know what punishment Xiahou Lian deserves for letting our prey escape?” The Mahoraga’s gaze turned sinister. “To be killed without mercy,” he said, enunciating each word.
“Even if he is to be killed without mercy, the abbot must order his execution before I can carry it out,” Qiu Ye said.
Seeing that the two were about to come to blows, Uncle Duan pulled them apart. “Enough, both of you. Right now, our priority is to find that young girl.” He directed a question at Xiahou Lian: “What’s her name?”
“Xie Jinglan,” Xiahou Lian replied. “‘Jing’ as in ‘quiet,’ and ‘lan’ as in ‘orchid.’”
“The kid is lying,” an old-sounding voice suddenly interjected. Xiahou Lian turned his head to see the Qiye Garden mole who’d once given him a saber manual and medicine. The elderly man approached them slowly, leaning on a cane.
Now Xiahou Lian was done for. Deceiving these fools would now be impossible.
“The Xie household has only one Xie Jinglan. He’s a boy—and he’s also the young master Xiahou Lian served. This kid’s too tenderhearted—he probably developed feelings for him.” The old man tapped Xiahou Lian’s skull with his cane and shook his head. “I told you before that you weren’t cut out to be an assassin. See? Now you’ve made a mess.”
Damn meddler. Xiahou Lian clenched his fists.
“This kid is cunning and full of lies! We won’t get anything out of him without torturing him first,” an assassin from the back weighed in.
Qiu Ye glanced at the man and repeated, “Unauthorized punishment is forbidden in Qiye Garden. We’ll deal with this back at the temple.”
“Why would it be unauthorized? We can’t answer to Wei-gonggong without retrieving the escaped prey. Otherwise, the Garden’s reputation will be ruined, and then what? If the abbot were here, he’d definitely extract our prey’s whereabouts through torture,” the man sneered. “Or is the mighty Kinnara afraid that the Garuda will come after you if she returns to find out that you punished her son?”
The Mahoraga sneered. “Don’t worry, Kinnara. We haven’t heard from Xiahou Pei in three months. She probably died in the Western Regions.”
“You’re full of shit!” Xiahou Lian shouted with reddened eyes. “Fuck you! You’ll be eaten by ants before anything kills my mother!”
“Shut up, Xiahou Lian!” roared Uncle Duan.
Qiu Ye held Xiahou Lian’s head to stop his flailing. He sighed. “You’re only partially correct. I am afraid of the Garuda. But I’m also afraid of the abbot.”
“What do you mean?” asked the Mahoraga suspiciously.
Qiu Ye smiled. “Haven’t any of you ever wondered who Xiahou Lian’s father is?”
“You mean... No, impossible!”
The assassins were all stunned.
Qiu Ye chuckled softly, his voice low and clear. “That’s right. Xiahou Lian’s father is our abbot, the Shixin Buddha.”