Ling crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at the many combs on display. Any one of them would be lovely in Lan Fan's hair. The question is which one caught her eye? Selecting a gift for his mother would have been infinitely easier. Xue Yao loved red. Her favorite present from her son was a single crimson feather he'd found in the orchard. She'd fashioned into an earring and wore it daily.
More than five years Lan Fan had been his constant companion; never denying his wishes, going along with his schemes even when it caused her trouble. He knew the determined look in her eye when they trained, the foods she most enjoyed, that she never asked for anything she didn't need. But this… this he didn't know.
"I believe this is what you're looking for young man. " The woman minding the stall picked up the comb Lan Fan wanted.
"You're certain this is the one?" Ling asked.
"The girl couldn't take her eyes off of it."
He took the comb from her carefully and brushed his thumb over the gold inlaid design. The hue reminded him of a leaf Lan Fan had preserved between the pages of a book last autumn. She still used it as a bookmark.
"I'll take it."
The drawstring bag still heavy with coins clinked as he returned it to his pocket. Ling thanked the woman and began his trek back to where he'd given Fu and Lan Fan the slip. The marketplace had become much more crowded as the morning wore on. Ling could hardly make his way through the rabble. Someone jostled him into a mountain of a man who nearly elbowed him in eye for the trouble. The prince managed to duck out of the way and into an alley.
"Well, that's problematic. Hm…" He put his hands on his hips and looked up. Blue skies above, building walls on either side, and further down the alleyway a convenient drainpipe. Ling grinned at his own cleverness as he approached the pipe, intending to make his way across the rooftops. Behind him a trio of older boys stepped into the alley. Ling pivoted at the sound of their footsteps.
"That's a lot of coin for such a little boy to carry," the frontman remarked. He was a roguish sort. Young and attractive but hair unwashed and clothing layered with grime. The butterfly sword in his hand gleamed in the morning sun with a perfectly honed edge. Of his two companions one was solidly built without the charm of good looks and the other a head shorter than Ling and skinny. All of them appeared in their mid teens. On the left the taller of the lot cracked his knuckles.
"Now, now. No need to be so menacing. We're all friends here," Ling replied while assessing the threat. Outnumbered though unlikely outskilled. No way out of the alley but the way he came or up. He didn't like the idea of turning his back to them long enough to scale the wall.
"Right you are. And what's money between friends? I'd advise you hand it over before you get hurt."
"Getting hurt would be troublesome. I'm running late so it looks like I'll have to make this quick." Prince Ling drew his sword.
"Brat's armed, Shu," mumbled the smaller one on the right.
"This just got interesting. I'll be taking that as well," Shu gleamed at Ling and drew a second butterfly sword from his scabbard, "Nothing personal!"
In a blur of blades the fight began; the thief took the offense while Ling deflected and defended. He bided his time for an opportunity to take the upper hand. Having never fought anyone outside of a training session Ling favored caution. Luckily for him Lan Fan preferred kunai. Battling a seemingly untrained opponent dual wielding blades wasn't dissimilar enough to throw him. Shu was unrelenting with his strikes forcing the prince further into the alley toward a dead end.
"You're not bad. Not as good as my sparring partner," said Ling. Deflecting another slash meant to unbalance him, Ling spun around behind Shu and kicked him in the small of the back. It sent the teen sprawling. Grinning Ling turned to face his other opponents and was met with a fist to his left eye.
The larger of the lackies grabbed him by the collar drawing him close for another punch. Before he could throw a second punch Ling kneed him in the groin. It was followed by the hilt of Ling's sword driven into the thug's solar plexus. He went down wheezing and Ling leapt over him nimbly. Only the skinny one remained in his way. He was armed with a single ill cared for dagger. Prince Ling pointed his sword at him.
"Would you prefer to step aside or join your friends in the dirt?"
The boy stepped forward and gripped his weapon tighter. A subtle shift in the boy's gaze was Ling's only warning before a hand fisted in the base of his ponytail. He was yanked back by his hair, back against a chest, and cold steel biting into his neck.
"Drop the sword," Shu spoke into his ear, "Don't think I won't cut your throat. I'd rather not kill over a pittance, but hey, we've all got to eat."
Ling was weighing his options when something dropped to the ground in front of them with a light tink. He shut his eyes just in time to avoid being blinded by the flashbang. Cries of surprise and confusion filled the air from his attackers. Without a moment to lose Ling wrenched Shu's blade away from his neck nicking himself in the process. Ling twisted to face him narrowly avoiding the blind slash of Shu's other blade. Lan Fan, masked but unarmed, dropped to the ground between them. A swipe of Shu's sword rent her shirt cutting a thin red line across her belly. She ducked under another strike, closed the distance, and struck Shu in the chin with an upward thrust of her palm. It was followed by a kick to his stomach that threw him into the bigger thug who had just regained his footing. When she rounded on the smallest boy he dropped his knife and turned tail. He had the misfortune to run directly into Fu.
"Young lord, are you all right?" Fu asked. He grabbed the teen by his collar in an iron grip.
"No harm done. Just a scuffle." Ling's eye had already begun to bruise and swell. Blood trickled from his neck. Master Fu took this in with a frown while Lan Fan drew a kunai.
"How dare you injure the young lord?!" Lan Fan neared the pair. Shu rolled to his feet and raised one short sword in defense then dropped it with a scream when Lan Fan threw her knife into him hand.
"Lan Fan!" The young bodyguard stopped in her tracks at the command in Prince Ling's tone even as she produced another blade from her sleeve. Half turning she split her attention between her master and the boys crouched on the ground. "That's enough. They are beaten."
"They attacked you, my lord!"
"We didn't know he was anyone important. We're sorry, we didn't mean anything by it!" said the little one.
"Shut up, Wei!" Shu hissed.
"How do you wish to deal with them, my lord?" Fu inquired. Ling considered. Until now he'd never held someone's fate in his hands. Not like this at least. The punishment for attacking an imperial was death. But of course they hadn't known he was a prince. Ling sheathed his sword. Still don't come to think of it. Just an out of place noble.
"That was a decent fight. You have my thanks. Lan Fan, please stop my new friend's bleeding," Ling instructed with cheer. Shu was aghast and shrunk back at Lan Fan's approach.
"Should you ever care for a rematch or honest work come find me at the Yao estate," Ling tossed the bag of coins to the larger one, "Shu, Wei, and you are?"
"Uh, Jin," the boy replied a bit dumbfounded.
"I am Ling Yao."
Another scream tore through Shu's gritted teeth when Lan Fan removed her knife from his flesh. Blood poured from the puncture wound. She drew a white handkerchief from her pocket, the red blossoms on the edge Ling recognized as Xue's preferred pattern, and wrapped it securely around Shu's palm.
"Wonderful. No hard feelings. Please, see your friend to a healer. It would be a shame if he wasn't able to hold a sword next time," Smile unwavering he turned to Fu, "Shall we?"
Before the trio could blink Fu and Ling disappeared onto the rooftops. Lan Fan followed then paused on the ledge at Shu's shout.
"Hey! Next time we fight man to man! I want to see how you measure up in a fair fight," he challenged.
"There are no fair fights."
February 1914
"You've gotten better," Shu huffed as he parried another blow of Ling's sword. They sparred in the training yard both having shed their winter coats. Snow flurries drifted around them but failed to stick. From the sidelines Wei and Jin ate their lunches and watched. The trio showed up in the Yao province on the cusp of autumn nearly two years ago. Shu's love of weaponry had been put to use as an apprentice with the blacksmith, while Wei took to kitchen work, and Jin turned out to be the best stablehand the horsemaster had seen in years. Thanks to Shu's impropriety he and Ling became fast friends. The two often snuck out of the estate to explore the city. Lan Fan would disapprove, but tag along nevertheless to ensure Ling's safety. With them by his side he saw the lives of his clansmen. The weight of his responsibility as the Yao scion given context.
"And you're not keeping up," Ling threw himself into another strike. Though not a proper student of his Fu deigned on occasion to correct Shu's footwork or gruff criticism for leaving himself too open. Today, they had the yard to themselves if one didn't count the pair of guards hovering nearby. Fu'd assigned them to Ling for the day in his absence, and instructed Ling to practice with the "street rat" until he returned. For once Lan Fan wasn't around to train with him. Upon Fu's insistence she'd begrudgingly returned to her mother's home for a visit. She'd been gone three days with another four until she returned to the estate. It had Ling in a mood. Not that he would admit it. The audience he'd recently had with the Emperor also weighed heavily on his mind, "Jin, why don't you grab one of those swords and join us? I need a real challenge."
"Nuh-uh. 'm not stupid,"Jin mumbled around a bite of food. He was a brawler and not much good with a blade.
"Hand to hand then," Ling countered and disarmed Shu with a flick of his wrist. The sword went flying across the arena and landed in a mud puddle.
"Hey! I just polished that!" The prince ignored Shu's grumbling and turned toward Jin.
"I promise to pull my punches."
"Last time you broke my nose, your highness."
"Wei?"
"I should get back to work," Wei squeaked out, making a break for it before he became Ling's next target.
"Horses need grooming," added Jin and took his leave of them.
"Best five out of seven?" Ling turned his most winning smile on Shu who in turn gave him a withering look.
"We've been at it all morning. Anyhow, I have work, too," Shu shook the mud from his sword and made a face, "I don't know how Lan Fan puts up with you. You're so high maintenance. Does that come with being a prince or is that just you?"
"High maintenance? I'm delightful. You should be honored I find you such good company," Ling scoffed.
"Is there something bothering you?" Shu's tone shifted taking on a serious note. Next to him Ling propped the dull edge of his sword on his shoulder.
"Bothering me? Why do you ask? Fishing for gossip?" The prince grinned to belay his friend's concern.
"I keep my ear to the ground. Since you returned from your summons to the palace you've been… off. I've heard whispers," when Ling said nothing he continued, "Rumor has it the Emperor isn't long for this he met with not only you but all of his heirs. He's given you lot a task: 'Seek the key to immortality.' "
"Who've you been talking to?" Eyes dark, good humor gone, knuckles tight around the hilt of his sword; Shu saw he'd struck a cord.
Undeterred by Ling's countenance Shu kept his voice low, "Let's just say I have my ways and leave it at that. But if you are after the impossible keep in mind that you have friends in low places."
Ling held his gaze then turned his eyes to the cloud cover overhead.
"A storm is brewing. If we're to survive it we'll need good steel."