A Touch of Zen – Beyond the Dragon's Eye by Petra Naefcke
Based on the cinematic masterpiece of director King Hu - A Touch of Zen - the story starts after the famous Bamboo Forest Fight and before the Haunted Fortress Battle, narrating the untold story of Yang Hui-zhen, daughter of an outlawed noble and loyal to the Emperor, and Ouyang Nien, leader of the guard of the Eastern Agency and loyal to the corrupt and power-obsessed High Eunuch Wei Tu zheng.
Prologue: A Hero's Soul and a Fool's Heart
His senses came back to life, long before his body gave just the slightest hint of being determined to do the same. It felt numb and useless like a dead weight.
Maybe it was...dead?
Or was it just...drugged?
He tried to move, to open his eyes, but even his eyelids seemed to be too heavy to follow this small order of his still befogged mind.
Being dead!
The idea came back to him like a recurring nightmare. He remembered, he had dreamt of it in many different variations, since...
Since what?
No answer...
Something did happen to him, but he felt too weak to take the path back to the point, where it did happen. And if he really did die, this would be supposed to be the...afterlife?
Many legends got told about it and his old master had known many more, but whenever he had asked for answers, he had only gotten one: 'There will come the day, son, where you will find out. You are young and so may the blissful spirits give, that you won't have to find out too early'.
He never felt satisfied with this. It was not that he feared death. Not actually. But he had wished for to know more. And if this was supposed to be the afterlife, why would he still lay motionless?
He huffed inwardly. Nothing of this made sense. Nothing...
There was the scent of fresh chopped firewood and within a split second his senses were alert, trying to do what his body could...not: Move!
The wood did not remain the only scent he inhaled. There was more: a touch of jasmine, honey and tea, a touch of herbs and oil, another of a strong vegetable stock. It even tasted on his tongue.
He tried to swallow, but his mouth felt dry, his tongue felt coated and his lips were dry and split.
Hunger and thirst crushed upon him like a wave crashed upon the shore and he'd gladly have given his life for just a mouthful of water or one spoon of this stock.
If only he'd be able to talk.
He knew he was not alone. Silent whispers from different voices told him so and he began to wonder, who they were and why they'd whisper. In this state he was no threat for them and it would be easy for them to get rid of him in an instant. But if they'd wish for that, why did they safe him?
They saved him...did they?
As much as he tried to understand what they were talking about, the voices remained a whisper in the dark, hidden in the shades of a small shed or hut or of one of the wooden houses this village consisted of.
Oh yes, it came back.
All of it...
That filthy place near the mountain range close to the border; a small nest made for traitors and outlaws to hide in.
Yes!
That was why he had travelled here on the track of those, who would not obey to the will and wish of his master. And none-the-less there was something about this place that left him thoughtful.
The whole place gave him the creeps and although he was not superstitious, he thought that it would not be wise for the High Eunuch Wei Tu-zheng's first general – Mun Ta – to lead his men here.
The old fortress might not have been haunted, but what he had seen of it, told him that it would make the perfect trap with its labyrinth of rotten buildings and ruinous defence walls.
He had to warn them. Warn them, that nothing in this place would be the way it looked like. Warn them, by all means, equal the cost.
But he did try, didn't he?
Wasn't that what brought him here?
His memory still worked slowly...
There was the gaze of the girl, full of hatred and disgust, determined to wipe him out for just to get him out of the way; for to keep him from letting Mun Ta know that they were here; that they were hiding in this mere wilderness.
He remembered that treacherous principal and the cringers he was surrounded by. They were in league with those traitors they hid and he swore, he'd make them pay for their disloyalty.
The last he remembered was the face of Lu Ting-yen, the former general, who came to see him in the shape of that sanctimonious healer. Didn't he order that no one should be allowed to see him?
If only he'd be able to move...
He had to get up
He had to...
It was then, when he tried to move, that white-hot pain ran through his body. His back sent waves of sheer agony straight to his mind, but as much as he tried, the scream that formed deep inside him, never left his lips.
"Shh!" Someone touched his shoulder and pushed him back amongst the blankets. "Do not move!"
The voice sounded harsh within his ears, but there was a gentle undertone hidden underneath, almost as if the one who addressed him was desperately tried to avoid anyone to find out that he or she worried about his well being.
Several moments passed by before the one returned. Whoever it was, he or she lifted his head and brought a bowl close to his lips. The hand, that touched him, was the same gentle and strong. It was small but used to hard work or to handling a...sword...?
"Drink! It will make it bearable! And lay still! You caused us trouble enough, while we tried to save you! There are some amongst us, who think we should have let you die!"
No, this was not the stock he had scented earlier. This was a bitter beverage and he tried hard not to swallow it, but his host was unwilling to grant him mercy. If he did not want to choke, he had to give in.
"And now rest!"
A swift move, a slight hint of movement in the air and the other was gone.
The pain ebbed away, slowly and not entirely, and while exhaustion spread all around his body, his limbs gave up resistance, quickly followed by dozing off again.
When he woke up from his doze the next time, it had gotten all silent. Warmth wrapped him in and he blinked, just to notice that the berth, they had left to him, was settled close to a small fireplace, but his eyes fell shut again before he even could think of where he found himself.
He shivered in his sleep.
The lovely scent of jasmine found its way into his dreams and the memory it carried made him smile.
Almond shaped eyes were looking at him, while he freed clouds of long, black hair from slides and ties, while his trembling hands barely dared to touch the gentle skin, his secret love wanted to offer to him.
They had been afraid, both, and for good reason, but nothing and no one would have been able to keep him away from her. Even if they'd have locked her up – he'd have turned the world upside down and back to get to her. Her smile, her gentleness, her spirit – he'd have died for her willingly and smiling.
Her fingertips touched his cheeks to dispel his worries and to ease his troubled mind, but on that last day he had come to see her, it had not been enough.
He tossed and turned in his sleep and he felt her hand again, brushing strands of hair from his brow and face, caressing his cheek, gentle as always, but when he reached out he only came to catch a moistened piece of cloth and the same small hand that had helped him up before.
"Master Lu, quick! We must bring down the fever!"
Her lips tasted of honey and sage when they met his...
He opened his eyes and stared at her while she led the cup of tea to his lips.
His voice ebbed away when he asked: "Yang Hui-zhen?"
She straightened and turned her gaze away.
It seemed to be half an eternity when she finally looked at him again and replied: "Ouyang Nien!"
Her voice was icy...
