Cong was jolted awake as his door burst open. Bohai stood there, a sword in his hand. The simian was on his feet, ready to fight in an instant. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline flowing like a river through his veins.

"Bohai?" Cong asked tightly. "What's wrong?"

"We have intruders. Get up now."

Cong scrambled for his staff and ran down the corridor with Bohai. The new recruits scurried down the hall with them, terror on their faces. There were whispers about some kind of spy, and now they knew who it was. It was an insect, they hissed, and he'd brought others with him. They had a proposition for Fu, and it was in the croc's interest to listen to them. Out of all of the paths for his friends to pursue, the direct path was not one that Cong had even considered. With his heart in his throat, he entered the main room, afraid of what he would find.

Crane was the first one he noticed, standing tall with his wings held rigidly against his body. Viper was coiled, her head raised high enough that she was level with the top edge of Crane's wing. Mantis stood on top of Crane's head, silent and tiny, which completely hid the strength that lay within him. And standing calmly in front of the three tense warriors was Shifu. There was no sign of Po or Tigress.

Fu pushed through the gang, gesturing for his ranked members to flank him. For one heart-stopping moment, Cong was overwhelmed with shame, and he tensed, ready to flee, but Viper caught his eye, shook her head minutely, and gestured back to Fu. Her message was clear: Do as you're supposed to.

Withering away on the inside, Cong stood tall and walked to his place. As head of thieves, his place was on the left side right beside Bohai, who was beside the crocodile. Cong thought he would rather die than see Shifu's appraising gaze looking at what he'd been and what he had become in his absence. Nothing's changed, Cong thought bitterly. As I was, I am. I have always been this and always will be.

"Greetings, Fu," Shifu said evenly, unmoved by the enormous amount of power that confronted him.

"Greetings, foolish intruder," Fu said, mock civility in his tone.

Shifu didn't react to the insult. "We have a proposition for you, Fu."

"And what makes you think I will listen to you?" Fu asked, tracing the knife in his hand with one of his claws.

"Because I believe that money is of great interest to you."

Fu tapped his snout with the flat of the blade. "You interest me. Is this some kind of hit? Because those come very steep, and I doubt you would be able to afford it."

Cong wanted to laugh out loud, but his terror suppressed it. If only Fu knew just how rich Shifu was by himself, let alone adding Mantis', Viper's, and Crane's riches. But Shifu did not wear his usual silk-lined robe to indicate his class and wealth. That was an indication to Cong that there was some sort of plan in motion, but what it was, he couldn't think of it. He desperately searched the eyes of his companions, but they would not even look at him. All of their attention was focused on Fu.

Shifu shook his head. "It is not a hit."

Fu clicked his tongue. "A heist?"

"No."

"What do you want?"

"To purchase a member of your gang."

Cong felt his stomach drop, and he clenched his jaw. But nobody looked at him. Not Shifu. Not Viper. Not Crane. Not Mantis. And not Fu. Fu narrowed his eyes.

"Who do you want to buy?"

"He knows who he is."

"I need to know."

Shifu shrugged. "We'll start at 100,000 yuan."

"Who do you want to buy?" Fu asked icily.

"150,000."

Fu's temper began to rise, and he spun to scan the faces of his lesser gang members. He did not even look at Cong or any of his ranked members.

"Who here is he talking about?"

Everybody shook their heads, shrinking back. Fu looked at each face, his eyes dashing around. While he was distracted, Cong tried to catch his friends' eyes, hoping to see a sign of what he was supposed to do, but they continued to gaze only at Fu. The crocodile turned back around.

"There is nobody here that will be bought. And you are too low to even pique my interest."

Cong knew that was a dirty lie. Fu's eyes gleamed at the amount of money he was offered, but he now knew that it wasn't a low-ranked nobody that Shifu wanted. That only left his ranked members, and he wouldn't part with them for anything.

"400,000," Shifu said calmly.

Fu bared his teeth. "Who are you trying to buy?"

"He knows who we're trying to buy."

"Too low!"

"750,000," Shifu said.

Fu was staggered at the price, but he didn't give. Stepping forward, he pointed with the knife. "Leave now! You will not sway me!"

Shifu shrugged. "It will not end well for you if you attempt to throw us out."

With that subtle threat, Fu lost his temper. He stepped forward and raised his knife. In the instant that the blade started to descend, Cong saw to his dismay that none of them tensed to defend Shifu. Shifu simply stared calmly at the impending death. Cong moved without thinking, lunging forward and catching Fu's wrist. He moved automatically, throwing his weight forward to force Fu off-balance as he pressed hard on the pressure points on Fu's wrist. The knife clattered to the ground, and the room fell silent.

Fu gaped at Cong, who released the croc's arm and stepped back, terror in his face. The leader of the Serpent Gang closed his mouth, rubbing his sore wrist as his eyes narrowed. He straightened then looked at Shifu again. His eyes went from one master to the next, and Cong saw the horrible moment that everything clicked. A light flickered in the depths of Fu's black eyes, and he turned that shadowed gaze to the monkey.

"Cong…" he sighed, shaking his head. His voice was low and sibilant, deadlier than any of his other tones. "Do you want to tell me just where you were? Where did you go when you ran from me?"

The simian's mouth was dry, and he shook his head, trying to speak, but he couldn't. Fu clicked his tongue, leaning down to pick up his knife. His jaw was set.

"I think I can tell you where you were, Cong," the crocodile said. "You ran off for a while, avoiding the cities and staying off of the Serpent's radar. That much you've admitted, little Cong. But you craved more, you craved greatness, and you began to practice Kung Fu. Am I wrong?"

Cong trembled at the tone, his heart pounding so loud in his ears that he was afraid he was going to faint. "I did not crave greatness," he croaked.

"But you did begin to practice. And you met some powerful friends. Masters Crane and Mantis and Viper. And Master Shifu. But you told them nothing of your background." Cong began to speak, but Fu cut in, pointing the blade at him. "I know you well enough, little Cong, to know that you would not mention that you are not your own person. And you tried to forget me, forget the Serpents, and you did for many years."

Fu approached, his eyes boring into Cong's. "And then something happened, something that shamed you. And you came back, full of deceit and lies, determined to hide your past from me as you hid it from them. But I know who you are now, little Cong. You're Master Monkey from the Valley of Peace, aren't you?"

Cong wanted to melt through the floor. He couldn't speak, couldn't agree, couldn't disagree. He was frozen in terror. The knife came to rest against his stomach, the point digging into his flesh.

"Answer me honestly, little treasure," the crocodile crooned. "And I will kill you quickly."

Nobody moved in the room. Cong was sure he was going to die of fright. Then a noise caught his attention. It was a soft chirrup, a defiant noise of anger. And he remembered his friends were standing right behind him. Peace flowed over his form, and he straightened up, staring placidly at the croc that held his very life in his hands. Fu's cruel glint wavered at the change in the monkey's posture and expression. He pulled back a little, unsure.

"Yes," Cong said steadily. "I am Master Monkey of the Jade Palace."

The hesitation disappeared, and Fu let out a roar and lunged forward. Cong leaped over him with ease, and Fu stumbled and spun, rage in his eyes. The simian still had the same inscrutable expression, as if he wasn't bothered in the slightest by what Fu was doing. He stood there, relaxed, and…Fu did a doubletake. The little slave was smiling?!

"What is so funny, Cong?" Fu snarled.

"You're frustrated," he replied, his lips quirking.

Fu snorted in outrage. He shot toward Cong, who dodged with ease. They played that game a few times before Fu realized that he was getting nowhere and looking like a fool. He stopped then stalked right up to Cong. He considered the monkey.

"You think you're a Master?" he asked. "You're a slave, Cong. That's all you are." The smile dropped off the simian's face. "You're a thieving slave," Fu continued, leaning down. His dark eyes sparkled maliciously. "You'll never be anything else, Cong."

"You don't know that," Cong said. His voice was hoarse with pain.

"I do."

Pain shocked him, and he let out a cry, stumbling back. Immediately he found it hard to breathe. Punctured lung, his mind supplied as he gasped for air.

He saw Fu's smile as the crocodile continued. "Because I won't let you."

His blood stained the knife, shining in the flicking candlelight, and Cong tried to get enough air. Shifu caught him and lowered him to the ground. One look into those grey eyes and Cong knew that while his defiance had been a part of the plan, this injury was not. The simian turned and coughed up blood, groaning.

"1,000,000," Shifu said stonily.

Fu blinked. "What?"

"I'll pay you 1,000,000 yuan right now if you sign his rights back to him."

"Liar," Fu spat.

Mantis dashed away. Less than a minute later, Tigress pushed the door open. She was pulling a cart laden with money, and Fu gaped.

"I am not lying. Get the papers. Now."

Fu sent Bohai for the contract and ink. He had no problems selling a dying gang member, and he looked over the money with a greedy eye. Within five minutes, the contract was signed and sealed, and Fu ordered Bohai to take the money. Shifu tucked away the contract then turned to kneel beside Cong. Fu watched distastefully.

"How sentimental. Take him away to die. I no longer care for him."

"Oh, we never said he was going to die," Mantis said from Shifu's shoulder.

"Of course he will. Punctured lung. I can hear him gasping."

Shifu glanced at the crocodile, and Cong was surprised to see a smirk on his face. The red panda drew his fingers over Cong's wound, growing slick with blood. A sudden burst of raw power shot through the monkey's middle, and he gasped hard and shrieked, loud and long. The air that surged into his lungs was cold and painful, but he could breathe again. Sucking in large gulps of air, Cong realized that his bleeding had nearly stopped. And Fu looked outraged.

"You little cheat!" Fu snarled.

Shifu stood and gestured for Tigress to pick up the half-limp form of Cong. He stared calmly at Fu then shrugged one shoulder.

"You assumed he was going to die. I saw no reason to disprove you."

"I demand that you—" Fu began.

"I don't care what you demand," Shifu said blandly. "You accepted our payment."

"You misled me."

Mantis laughed. "What are you going to do? Call in the police to dispute?"

Fu looked outraged as the masters turned to leave. Shifu paused at the door, turning back to look at Fu.

"Next time you negotiate," the red panda said, the corners of his mouth upturned. "Make sure that your gang's secrecy is included."

Before the crocodile could respond, Crane whistled. The door burst open and there stood Po, grinning at Cong, who blinked at him stupidly. Behind him, what seemed to be the entire police department flowed it with weapons. Cong took one look at Fu's face, and he began to laugh. Pain flowed up from his wound, but he didn't care. Shifu had just played one of the worst gang leaders in the history of this city, and he'd won.

And Cong laughed until the shadows began to creep in on his vision. He laughed and laughed, overjoyed by the cleverness of his friends. And when he slipped unconscious, he was still laughing.