0 days

Your son is strong, Kwai Chang Caine, but you should not have left him. Despite my best efforts, I am angry with you for your actions: can you not see that the boy— the man— requires your guidance? You murdered the man he called father. Your decision to destroy that evil was not wrong, but Peter Caine needs his father to help him overcome it.

I will do my best to guide him in your absence, Kwai Chang Caine.

2 days

He thanks me for letting him rest on my sofa. Is this what you meant for him? Do you think this will make him forgive you?

But no, he has already forgiven you. How could he not forgive his father?

He does not blame you, my friend, but himself. He leaves my home and releases his anger on a punching bag. He sits by the lake in the park, hidden by a copse of trees, wiping tears from his eyes. He returns and I see the questions in his eyes, but he does not ask when you will be back.

It is for the best. I have no answer for him.

5 days

He is moving into a room. Student's quarters, if one were to be accurate. My niece has found it for him, and the people of Chinatown will pay for it. Many are grateful for his role in protecting the Prince— the Emperor. Others are thankful that he remained once Tan was gone, thinking that he will be able to help them should the Triad return. Still others know him as your son, and hope that by keeping him here, they will bring the Shaolin priest back.

I have told him that he will continue to study with me, and he has not argued. I will give him some lucky bamboo for his new accomodations.

12 days

Your son is not idle. He has found employment in one of the 'clubs' just outside of Chinatown. He will be a 'bouncer,' which he has told me is something of a physical position, ensuring that the people at the parties are safe and that troublemakers do not enter.

He was leery of taking the position, worried that he might disappoint you by using his skills to harm others. He tells me you spoke harshly with him about being a soldier instead of a son. I suspect the harshness was in his own mind, but I reassured him that acting as a protector was in line with what you would want.

22 days

More and more often, I see your son in the company of the police.

I believe that he is helping them with the criminal element, though he has been unwilling to speak of it with me. He visits a coffee shop with Kermit Griffin every other day, and looks over his shoulder more and more often. He refuses to ask for help, no matter that much of Chinatown would be willing to defend him. He is very proud and very stubborn.

26 days

There is a hope in the eyes of Peter Caine these days as he goes to the library. I have tasked him with creating his own translation of Zhuangzi. I have used this lesson often with novices, but I must admit that he is not a novice. He has read the book before, both with you in the Temple, and with Master Tan's influence. Sometimes, I think of the teenager he must have been, and I wonder how he reconciled living the life he did with what he knew to be true. Other times, I see the man he has become and despair: he is stubborn on the simplest of things, refuses to acknowledge what is and what must be.

Ah, but this is not the point. The point is the light in his eyes, Kwai Chang Caine! Your son has lost so much, but he is resilient, and the light returns to him, day by day. It is a light that I wish you were here to nurture.

I will do what I can in your stead.

30 days

He dreams of you. I do not wish to counsel him on his dreams; they are personal. But he dreams of you and of Tan, of the light and of the darkness. He does not ask for you, but I know that he yearns. He is hurt deeply by your absence. You should be here, acting as a beacon to him.

Where are you, Kwai Chang Caine? When will you be back? Your son needs an answer to the question he dares not ask.

36 days

The Captain of the Police Force came to see me today. Peter Caine has helped them greatly, and they want him to work with them in a greater capacity. He asked me if that would interfere with whatever I was doing with him.

I played the fool: why does it matter what an old man thinks? But the Captain is shrewd. He knows more of the spiritual than I would have expected, minor though that knowledge may be. In the end, I told him that I would not interfere, should he wish Peter's assistance, but that your son would not respect any 'thin blue line' that they might wish.

In another life, I think your son must have been an influence on this man; surely, they must have interacted for him to return again and again. I think there must have been a great debt between them, just as there was between you and I.

Or perhaps I am simply an old man rambling. I will meditate on it.

48 days

He asked me to help him say a prayer for a woman who died of a long illness. A librarian. He tells me he had spent a great deal of time at the library, trying to understand the works I gave him. She was his friend, Kwai Chang Caine, but her death reminded him of his mother.

Your son knows much death, but has yet to truly accept it as part of life. Your son feels deeply, and inspires that feeling in others.

58 days

His dreams are more disturbing of late: dreams of blood, of injury, of darkness. He finds it difficult to enter even the lightest of meditation states with me. Sometimes, he simply sits quietly, pretending to meditate while he thinks deeply. I do not understand, but I grow concerned.

61 days

I still do not know where you are, Kwai Chang Caine. I will respect your privacy, but your son aches for your approval. He has found a new friend to spend time with, a man who helped him to help the young Emperor by bringing a loyal subject to the country, an old retainer who had been living in Tibet.

But this friend of his is a newly minted member of a Tong. Is his path to be forever dominated by the criminals of the world? I remind myself that the world will unfold as it must. Still, I wish you were here, my friend. You were always more accepting than I.

73 days

Your son looks over his shoulder more and more often. I can sense no danger, yet he sees a snake in every mirror. He stares at the shadows in my room, startles at each whisper in the street. He looks at me with worry when he thinks I do not see.

He refuses to tell me of his fear; I do not think it bravery to hide it. He will only tell me of his nightmares, which grow worse. He is afraid and angry and confused, and his dreams reflect that. Only you, Kwai Chang Caine, can ease his suffering.

79 days

A woman has been murdered. She worked with Peter in the club he protects. He blames himself: had he been more vigilant, he would surely have caught the criminal before she was killed. He is distrustful of the shadows. He has taken to seeing me daily to 'pay his respects.' As if I could not see his eyes darting over every surface in my home. I know not what he looks for, but I can feel his fear.

86 days

A young woman from the community has been killed. Peter was acquainted with her, as well; her grandfather owned a store that was being threatened by ruffians unhappy about the loss of a job. The police have apparently spoken with him about his relationship with her. He says the two recent deaths are connected, but I can sense nothing.

He refused to speak with Xiaoli, and I had to rebuke him.

My friend, I am not his father. That is who Peter Caine needs.

95 days

A third young woman is dead. Not a close relation to Peter, but still someone that he knew. She made sandwiches across the street from the library... he went there most days. Your son's fortitude is rapidly failing. His chi is weak, his attention wavers. It took great prodding, but he admitted that he has not slept for two days.

We began to say a prayer for the dead woman. Peter Caine was unable to light incense for her, snapping the joss stick in half as he tried. He told me the light from the candles was casting too many shadows.

Kwai Chang Caine, you must return before your son is lost to you again.

100 days

Your son asked me to join him at a Temple. It has been 100 days since Tan died; since you left your boy alone. I know you would have disapproved, but no matter that Tan was a fallen Shaolin priest, he was also your son's father. I began to speak the words of the Yulanpen Sutra.

I had not half-way finished when an explosion ripped through the Temple. A great fire erupted around us— I was told afterwards that there was a gas leak, but I do not believe it. Nor did your son.

Peter pulled me out, as well as the priest that tends to the place. He did well, but his eyes were filled with fear. He spoke with the fire department and the police; he did not betray his terror. You would have felt much pride at his courage.

But afterwards, when he helped me back into my room, he stood motionless, barely breathing. The restless tiger I am used to seeing was caged. He begged me for my help. I had no choice but to give him a powerful relaxant. He is resting now, uneasily, on my sofa.

I cannot help him alone.

I have no choice. I must summon you. And you will return.