*pokes head out tentatively and sneaks out* Well, I'm not dead yet, so that's probably a good sign that no one wants to sell my organs on the Black Market…yet. Yes, I know I'm an evil bitch, and I write drama so that it actually induces some people to tears, but I never intended to hurt anyone. Honest! Sometimes I just get a little carried away when I write…

Which reminds me, this is a warning: This chapter is emotionally draining and angst ridden. So for the sake of your mental health, watch a comedy movie or read a funny story to cheer yourself up. I had to write comedy and watch a full season of Monty Python's Flying Circus to cheer myself up, and I wrote this thing. Please, if you don't do it for yourself, do it for me. And please don't kill me.

One last quick note: my newest baddie's name is made up of the words "wolf" (Lang) and "Sheep's wool" (Rong)…so he's literally a wolf in sheep's clothing. *rimshot* ah, puns…

We're getting right into the action, so here it goes!

Disclaimer: Don't own the panda.

Memoirs of a Master

Chapter 17

Trapped.

Never had a word sounded so final, so dangerously complete. The word alone can not convey the utter helplessness and despair that we felt as we stared down the thousands—thousands!—of arrows aimed right for us. Yeying gripped my hand, and I squeezed back, but that was all the strength my shock allowed me. We were less than one hundred now, and even though Ren had not said it, we knew all was lost.

I looked over at him, and I swear I have never seen anyone look so defeated and heartbroken. Li stood by his side, as he always had, offering whatever support he could. Ochir, wounded and bleeding he may have been, was still staring down the opposition, daring them to fire. And Yeying and I shared a look, me trying to save face and not show her how scared I was, and she forcing a smile, but the terror was in her blue eyes.

Up on the wall, someone hollered. We looked up to find the leader of the opposition, a Chinese wolf. He looked as ruthless as Shan had looked, but the dark look in his eyes showed he was a much fiercer opponent…and that had me very worried. His armor betrayed his rank, but I knew more from the level of arrogance he showed; glancing to my right, I saw Ren recognized him.

"Rong Lang," he growled.

The wolf at the gate just smirked and strode forward at a leisurely pace, "That's Commander Rong Lang to you, Jian Ren; I had a feeling you were behind this…"

"I'm not the one you should be arresting."

"You're right, you're not," he stopped, smiling smugly. "Unfortunately for you, both suspects are either dead or dying and, well, China needs someone to blame for the end of a dynasty."

"We were trying to stop the rebellion from happening."

"If you wanted to keep it from happening, you should have told me. We're old comrades, you and I, you could have told me anything…" here he gave Li a dirty look, which the fox returned with equal malice. "Least of all something as simple as who your 'little woman' was."

Ren snarled, stepping in front of Li, "You leave him out of this, Rong. That was ten years ago. You got my rank, something you had aspired for a long time. It was win-win, so don't do this. You know who's to blame."

"You're right. But China doesn't. Now, you can make this easy," he lifted his hand, fingers poised to snap, "and surrender, or you can make it difficult, and you all fall right here under the sting of a thousand arrows."

"Rong, lets be reasonable," Ren said. "We're on the same side here."

"No, no we're not. I would have thought that a man raised by women would have been more of a fairy, but you were raised by men…hmm," he made a show of philosophical thought, and cruelly said, "I wonder what that says about your father?"

Ren's reaction was immediate, his fist colliding with the other wolf's head. Remarkably, none of the archers fired, either too shocked from the outburst, or too stupid to act of their own free will. Ochir patted Ren on the shoulder. "Nice one."

"Thanks."

"What is this guy's deal?" Yeying asked him.

Ren sighed, "Rong and I go way back. He was the first kid in our village to call me a pansy, and he wanted to be a great military leader, only problem was that his entire family was unclean."

Worse than peasants, in other words.

"So who'd you bribe, Rong?" Ren demanded. "Who'd you buy off? Li told me Xue Shan had a hand in this…"

Rong struggled to get back to his feet, the men of his army straining as they held their arrows taut. "Xue Shan? Give me a break—he's the one paying me."

"WHAT?" Yeying roared. Rong jumped back in alarm at her outburst, and I was starting to think I was safer with the enemy archers. "That son of a…Honey?" she asked sweetly. "Please tell me you disemboweled him."

"Is a slit throat good enough?"

She made a face, then sighed, "Good enough, I guess," she looked at the wolf, "Which means you're not getting paid."

He chuckled, which confused us all. "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. I'm guessing that you all clearly had no idea what was really going on. Heh, figures. Alright, I suppose you have a right to know…"

"The hell we do," Li growled. "You just want to see our faces before you give your men the signal to fire."

Rong grinned wickedly, "So Ren has told you a little bit about me. Good. I'll be sure not to disappoint your already high esteem of me."

Ren snorted, gripping his sword handle tightly. Behind him, Ochir was just barely holding back on taking out the entire column, with Rong being the first to go down.

"You were right when you said my family was 'unclean'…but really, we're undertakers, lets be serious."

"Your family are undertakers, and you're a soldier?" I asked incredulously.

"Nothing wrong with helping the family business, is there?" he chuckled. "No, I never had any intention of growing up to be someone feared and reviled. If anything, I would be feared and loved. That's what this was all about, Ren," he said, lightly slapping him on the cheek. "Old buddy, old pal…See, China is like a giant ship at sea. To change its course takes more than just the luck of the winds to get it where you want it to go, but anything you do takes a while to change the direction. I was sick of being spat upon, hated, cursed and I knew it wasn't going to change anytime soon."

Ren was seething. "You murdered the emperor for…"

"The end of all oppression," he said breathlessly, the light of disjointed hope in his eyes. "Think about it, everyone would be equal, there would be no rich or poor, no clean or unclean, it would just be the people, and their ruler! Imagine it, Ren, a country where men were all equal, where you and your…significant other…were free to celebrate your relationship, a country where there was plenty of food and riches for all!"

"Its all fantasy, Rong," he said calmly. "You sold us all for a fantasy…and I know what really happened, that's why I told Li to keep Shan out of this."

Li stared at his lover, questioning. "What the hell are you talking about? You said you didn't trust him."

"I didn't…because he was spending too much time with you," he said to Rong, who smirked.

"Guilty," he sounded sickeningly proud of that.

"I know Shan was too honorable to do it for money or power," Ren said. "So what did you offer?"

"What else do you offer a kung fu master?" he cackled. "See, the problem with kung fu masters is that they're so difficult to win over, being so damn noble and everything…"

"What did you offer?!" Ochir snapped, his hands gripping the axe menacingly. I could tell he was really holding back on murdering the wolf right where he stood. Even though I knew he'd be outraged by the news of Shan's betrayal, none of us could deny that, though their relationship had been strained at first, they had become close and affectionate friends over the years. I think back to years before, when Ochir defended Shan against Red Claw's venomous words; after that, the dynamic had changed, and certainly during their travels and battles together, they depended on one another like the earth depends on rain.

Rong, either from bravado, or sheer stupidity, only smirked at the rhino who outweighed him by a couple hundred pounds, and was at least another body taller. "Vengeance. It was easy, getting him to be sympathetic to the Empress and the concubines, but he wouldn't kill for it. I really didn't want to tell him that the Emperor's troops had actually killed his clan…"

"No they didn't," Yeying said. "It was plague."

When he paused, I began to feel sick; when he spoke, I felt truly, exceedingly ill. He said mockingly, "…Oh, is that what happened? Oh, I am so embarrassed…oh well, a means to an end. He did as I expected he would. What's a little mistake between—"

"Mistake?!" Ochir roared. "You lied to him to get him to do what you wanted, you son of a—"

"Which, for a snow leopard, is surprising; I never expected them to make such good pets. But, if you killed him," he said to me, "No skin off my nose, its one less loose end to worry about. Which brings me back to you all." He paused dramatically and raised his hand again. "No one in China knows the truth but you…" he started backing away. "And soon, no one alive will know."

Ochir was seething, hands clenching and unclenching around his axe, "Five minutes…just five minutes alone with that son of a bitch…"

"Leave it," Ren sighed, pulling Li into his arms and hugging him tightly, "It's over."

It was over, on our end. As I pulled my wife close to tell her it would be alright, it turned out, I was right.

Up on the wall top, we heard a soldier shriek as he was pulled over the other side, his body hitting the ground with a thud loud enough to be heard through the walls. Rong whipped his head around from the wall back to Li; confusion was written on his features. Li's bow lay at his feet, and his quiver was empty…he hadn't fired.

Suddenly the walls erupted in shrieks and cries. In the torchlight, we saw grappling hooks sailing high into the air like fireworks, raining down on the soldiers, who dropped their weapons and ran to avoid getting hit. A shrill cry tore through the air, followed quickly by a roar from the other side. Over the towering gables of the palace, a dark brown shape flew across the sky and dived, talons drawn, straight for Rong. Rong ducked, hitting the ground just as savage warriors hurled themselves over the ramparts and began the battle anew.

Yeying laughed, "Its Khan!"

"Oh thank the gods," Ren said with a relieved laugh.

Borte circled above and landed on Ochir's offered arm. She was panting, shook out her feathers and sighed, "I'm getting too old for this."

"I gotta tell ya, lady, I've never been happier to see you. If this ain't a miracle I dunno what is!" he grinned.

"Actually, flying through a thunderstorm without getting struck by lightning is a miracle, this is just good timing. And if you all know what's good for you…I'd take a few steps back from the gate."

"Why?"

"NOW!" she screeched.

The hundred of us fell back twenty paces, just as the giant doors blew apart in a marvelous show of fireworks. Borte landed next to me and Yeying, "If there's one thing you Han do well, its make fireworks."

"Of all the technological advancements China's known for," Yeying griped, "you think the best one is fireworks?"

"They're pretty. And so very useful."

"They are that," Ochir winked.

Borte took flight again, flapping in the air, "We've given you an opening, now go! We'll cover you!"

I wasted no time and grabbed Yeying's arm, dragging her along. Behind us, we heard a fantastic roar—Ochir was going for Rong. Yeying turned back and shouted, "Ochir, leave him! It's not worth it!"

"The hell it isn't!" he roared, slamming his axe down into the cobblestones. The cowardly wolf scrambled to his feet but didn't get far as a Mongolian wolf jumped in his way, raising a sword high over his head. Rong blocked it with his own sword, and quickly, a battle between the two wolves and one angry rhino broke out.

"My son," Khan said, suddenly appearing next to us. "Eldest, damn good fighter—learned the trade from Master Jian."

"He's good—but how did you know?" I asked.

"Borte." Khan smiled fondly. "She has been indispensable these past twenty years. Now go, we will cover you."

"What about you?" Yeying asked.

Khan set his jaw and drew his sword, firelight reflecting off the furs sewn into his clothes. "He who was once my enemy became my friend—tonight, I honor his memory."

We heard shouts further ahead, the terrified, agonized screeches of soldiers being cut down, and the fearsome roars from Terbish and savage snarls from Qiang. Khan smirked, "Good. It will be an honor to fight with them."

"Be careful," Yeying said.

"This is battle, woman," he said grimly, then dashed off, raising his sword high over his head as a signal to the men charging through the blown-open gates. The Huns on the walls cut down soldier after soldier, and for the first time I could appreciate their savagery. Blood for Blood, and as Khan had expressively put it, a man who had long been his enemy—the Late Emperor—had become his friend. Apparently, in a fight like this, it paid to have a Mongolian on your side. Savage they may be, but damn if they're not loyal to those they care for.

Yeying was looking around, her face pale, "It's still too easy to be ambushed, we need another way out."

We shared a look, then glanced at the nearest wall. Yeying got a determined look on her face. "On three."

Together, we launched forward, striking the wall with our feet. We fell to the ground, nursing our legs and gaping, "That…is a really thick wall."

"Yeah," she gasped. "I think we need a new plan."

I looked over my shoulder at Ochir, then spotted a tree, and grinned. "Remember years ago when I had Ochir launch me over the Jade Palace walls?"

"Of course I remember. You broke your arm, and were a stupid little boy who thought he was too manly to admit it."

"Thanks so much for being so blunt."

"I'm your wife; it's what I'm here for."

Ochir was surrounded by a score of wolves, his axe cutting them down in record numbers, but more kept trying to take him down. I called over to him, pointed at the tree; recognition dawned on his face. He remembered. Letting out a huge roar, he swung his axe, severing bodies and felling too many enemies to count. He lumbered over, clearing a path and leaving utter carnage in his wake. "GET IN THE TREE!" he shouted.

Yeying grabbed my hand and we scaled the trunk, hauling each other up through the branches to the treetop. Suddenly we had to hold tight as Ochir took hold of a lower branch and pulled down, working his way further up until he held onto the top-most branches. After my wife and I took our places, Ochir hissed, "We only got one chance."

"I know, we won't let you down," I promised. Ochir nodded once, and let go. Yeying and I were sailing through the air and right over the wall, missing the battlements by mere inches before hurtling down to the ground. Yeying struck out with the pudao, slamming the blade into the eaves of a nearby house, slowing our descent and allowing us to land easily on our feet. Both of us wobbled, however, from the earlier injury. "Shit," she cursed. "I think we might've sprained them."

"We can still walk," I said. "We've got to keep going, they need us."

"What's the plan?"

Yeying looked around; "Borte mentioned explosives. With any luck, maybe we can use them to blast a hole in the wall, maybe two. There!"

"Where?"

"Look, look, look where I'm pointing!"

Sure enough, we saw a cart full of fireworks; my heart fell. "There's no way fireworks could blast a hole in a wall that thick…"

"If we use enough of them, we can," she said with determination, running over. She shifted rockets around, and I hurried over to help her. The battle raged on the other side, and we knew we had very little time to make our escape route.

"Damn it," I cursed. "isn't there anything in here other than firecrackers?"

Suddenly, when Yeying pulled away a line of firecrackers, at the very bottom of the cart were two large—very large—bucket-shaped explosives, the characters on the sides blaring bright red warning labels.

I shared a look with my wife, both of us chorusing, "That'll work."

We pulled them with some difficulty from the cart, dragging them over to the wall. Yeying scanned the plaster and pointed, laughing, "I'll be damned! We actually got it to crack a little!"

"Good sign," I said. "Means we have a chance at blowing it open."

"Help me put these in place. We'll need a light, a flint, something…"

I cursed; the one thing we were lacking when we needed it most. Yeying scanned around, glancing left and right for a source to light the fuse. Finally, in aggravation, she tore her claws over the cobblestones…and made sparks. We didn't need to speak; we ran a string of firecrackers a safe distance from the two barrels, and she struck the stone again. By the third attempt, the fuse was lit.

We ran for cover.

We dashed down an alley and huddled together, hugging each other tightly. "Where do you learn these things?" I asked as the first firecrackers began to pop.

"If you have to ask, you don't want to know," she yelled over the firecrackers, then bowed her head to brace herself.

Now, we had no idea how powerful these things were. So to say the houses we huddled between nearly crumbled as a result of the blast was not too much of an exaggeration. Screams rent through the air and the fighting fell to an unnatural quiet for only a few seconds before we heard warriors scrambling to the wall.

She and I jumped out of our hiding spot, finding Ren's warriors running into the city, ignoring alarmed citizens as they came out of their houses. Before long, we saw Ren and Li emerging from the rubble, Ren leaning heavily on his lover, who ushered him along as quickly as possible. Yeying ran to the opening and ushered everyone out.

"Come on! Hurry, move it!"

"OCHIR!" I called out to him, "Forget it! LET'S GO!"

But he had stopped, looking over his shoulder. The Imperial soldiers knew better now than to attack him, and he stood alone, covered in blood. I followed his gaze and saw that it rested on his battling father. The old bull lived up to his reputation, and so did Jian Qiang, who fought next to Khan with a savagery I didn't know any living being could possess. Terbish saw his son staring, glared and ordered in a booming voice, "GET OUT!"

Ochir's eyes hardened and he grunted, turned and jogged the rest of the way to the wall. when he passed, I heard him muttering things like "stubborn old bastard", "damn fool", and a slew of others…and I tried to speak up, to tell him what Terbish wanted me to say, but I never got that chance.

A terrible roar and burst of air flung me a few yards. I remember feeling a headache, and my ribs hurting tremendously. Then Yeying was by my side, screaming my name, but it sounded like a whisper against my ringing ears. Was I going deaf? Then I realized the opposite was true—everything sounded so much louder than before, but that made no sense…

"SHIFU!" she screamed, shaking me.

"Ow…" I winced. "I'm okay…"

"Honey, you're bleeding!" she said in a panic. "Ochir, OCHIR! Get over here, you need to carry him!"

"What happened?" I asked. Ochir took me up into his arms, cradling me in the crook of his arm after he strapped his axe to his back. "Rong got reinforcements, actual rockets, we need to move!"

"Go on ahead!" Yeying said.

"Hell no, lil lady!" he snapped. "You're going front 'n center!"

"I need to go back for someone, he's down. Don't worry," she grabbed my hand, "I'll be right behind you!"

I only nodded, pulling her closer for a quick kiss; I told her I loved her, yet I had no idea why. For some reason, something told me I would not be seeing her for a long time.

"I love you too," she whispered. "I'll come back to you!" With that, she was off, and Ochir broke into a run.

I passed out.

"Keep it down, he's still sleeping."

"I gave him enough dope to knock ten gorillas on their asses, he's out."

"Shut up! Look, he's coming around!"

I groaned and slowly cracked my eyes open. I didn't recognize where we were, it was dark, and even the light from the puny fire hurt my eyes. I recall getting struck in the head, and the numerous open cuts and wounds from the battle. The stench of blood still invaded my nose, and I sneezed a couple times to purposefully expel it, but it was everywhere. My body was completely bandaged up, my head hurt, actually, my entire body ached. In the dim light, I saw a few shapes, and recognized one easily.

Mohinder shook his head and placed a cold wet cloth on my forehead, "He is lucky the concussion and bruised ribs are the worst he got."

"A damn miracle you're still alive," Borte said. "Your friends will be very pleased to see you well."

"Where are we?" I croaked.

"In hiding. We…" she sighed, and I could see the look in her fierce eyes that she had very bad news. "We lost the war. Rong Lang is the new Emperor, and has declared martial law across the empire. We were able to escape the city, but as for Khan and his men, and Ren's soldiers…"

She didn't need to elaborate. The treatment the Huns would receive was actually tame compared to how the Han traitors would be treated. "Where is Ren? And Li, did they make it?"

"They're safe," Mohinder said. "They're just outside, in another cave visiting Ochir. He sustained his fair share of wounds too, but he'll live. Li has a broken arm, so he won't be shooting arrows any time soon."

"Ren lost an eye in his fight with Rong Lang. Mohinder's treated it, but Ren will have to wear an eye patch..."

"What about Yeying?" I asked. "Where is she?"

Mohinder set his jaw and Borte looked right at me with an expression I couldn't describe at the time. Now that I know, it should have been obvious.

"Master Shifu," she said softly, "Master Yeying is…"

The scroll fell, clattering to the floor from Tigress' nerveless hands. The five other warriors stared, confused until the tiger gasped out the last word in a choked voice: "…gone."

"What do you mean, 'gone'?" I asked. "She's someplace else, right? Another safe house?"

Borte shook her head; Mohinder had moved away, avoiding this conversation altogether. What I saw as poor bedside manner was actually grief, and I can hardly hold that against him. The shock had not yet set in.

"Shifu," the falcon said slowly, trying to put it as easily as possible. "She didn't make it out of the palace complex…"

"She was right behind us…" I was shaking my head, my voice rising in panic. "She was right behind Ochir, and Li, and Ren! She said she was right behind us!"

"She went back," she sighed, "She went back to help someone, and that was the last time I saw her…"

"You're lying," I snapped. "You're LYING!"

"Shifu, I'm not lying," she sternly said. "Your wife is gone. She…she's now a martyr for our cause."

No. "No…no, she's not. She's still alive, we need to go back—"

"That is suicide," Mohinder said bluntly. "Even if we last saw her alive, defending one of our own, and buying time for the rest of us, reports of what Rong is doing to traitors…" he shook his hooded head. "There is no hope. He has killed your wife; and now, he is after your head as well. He is after all of us; we are wanted for conspiracy, treason, and murder, and the punishment is beheading. If it helps, she probably didn't suffer; her death was probably quick…"

Borte sharply clipped him with her uninjured wing, snapping her beak with a loud clack. "Shut UP, you fool!"

I stared up at the ceiling, the memories of that night resurfacing. The walls blown apart, our fighters—the ones still alive—pouring out of the hole we had made, the roars of the old masters and Khan and his men echoing off the palace walls and the houses in the city. Yeying grasping my hand as I fell after the rocket's blast, ordering Ochir to carry me away, calling, "I'll be right behind you!" and then she was gone.

Gone.

Tears sprung into my eyes even as I tried to deny what I heard. No, no she was still alive, she had to be. She wouldn't—couldn't—die, she was my love, my wife, my everything, my life depended on her as surely as hers depended on me…and I had failed her. I had failed to protect my wife, and it cost me dearly.

Borte cleared her throat; I closed my eyes, "Get out."

"Shifu…"

"Now, Borte, both of you."

"We did everything we could…"

I grabbed the bowl of water sitting by my side and hurled it in her direction, the dish shattering as it hit the cave wall, "I SAID GET OUT!"

Mohinder came over and shepherded her out, leaving me alone. Once I was finally alone and the shock hit me, the truth hit even harder. Forty years later, I can't put into words how I felt at that moment; it is still too painful to describe. I had never cried so hard in my thirty-two years than the night I learned the woman I loved was dead.

Crane had to set down the scroll, blinking his eyes rapidly to fight back the tears that threatened to fall. Viper, Mantis and Tigress had already given up that battle. Monkey and Po looked ready to cry at a moment's notice. Tigress was so overcome with shock, she couldn't continue, so Crane had to finish the section for her. Po now had his arms around her, rocking her slowly, though truthfully, he was just as devastated as everyone else in that room.

Crane looked around at the depressed faces, then sighed, rolling the scroll back up. "I think we should take a break."

They didn't revisit the memoirs until almost four days later. Once the shock of Yeying's death hit them, each of them found different ways to cope. Crane retreated to his room for calligraphy practice, but found that all the characters he formed were "Loss", "Pain", "Sorrow" and "Love". Mantis' normally jovial nature was dampened considerably, he no longer sought focus and calm; all too quickly, the impatience from his youth came back with a vengeance, and he started snapping at anyone who came near. Viper was nearly inconsolable, grieving the loss as if she had known Shifu's wife. And not even his favorite almond cookies could bring Monkey out of his slump.

Tigress reverted to training again, but even something that brought her such focus and was something she loved…she couldn't find the energy to do it. Relenting, she plodded over to the kitchen, where Po was dealing with his own feelings in the only way he knew how. The tiger's eyes widened when she saw the display on the table.

He had cooked—a lot. There were delicacies, stuffed cabbage leaves, rice puddings with various mixtures of fruits, some with vegetables and others with fish and tofu. There were pastries, including about eight dozen almond cookies Monkey had helped him bake earlier that day. And now the panda was shaping dumplings, putting a vegetable and shrimp mix into the middle of a round dough circle and crimping the edges before setting them in a pot to steam. He looked up at her when he sensed her presence and gave a small wave, but there was little joy behind it. Tigress had to commend him; instead of eating when he was upset, now he cooked.

"Can I help?" she finally asked. He blinked, bewildered, and asked, "You sure? You don't strike me as someone who…"

"I need the distraction, and training's not doing it."

He smiled sadly and made room for her at the counter. After washing her hands, she rolled up her sleeves, floured up her hands and set to work after he showed her the finer points of dumpling making.

"I'm thinking of making wontons later," he said. "Not sure if I should fry them or not."

"I love fried crab wontons," Tigress smiled. "It's not the right season though."

"I know. Maybe in summer, when they're in season?"

"I'd like that, thank you."

"Hey, I'm head cook; it's kinda my job to know everyone's favorite foods. Speaking of…" he offered a small smile, "I was thinking of taking all this food down to the village, since I don't think we'll eat it all. While we're there, maybe we can get ingredients for those cinnamon sweet buns you love?"

"What's the occasion?" she asked.

He sighed, "Why do you think someone needs a reason to be nice to you?"

"I think we're avoiding the subject," she said, avoiding further inquiry into her self-consciousness by placing two dumplings in the steamer. She heard Po sigh, then he nodded, knowing he wasn't going to get the answer he sought…at least not right now. "Yeah, I know, and you're right. But, it's kinda silly to be mourning someone we never even met, right?"

Both of them were silent, then shared a look, then sighed heavily. "I guess not…" he muttered.

"I'm not sure I can handle hearing the rest. How many other people died?"

Po looked over his shoulder at the basket of scrolls, and the one laying on top from three days before. As much as it hurt to think what else could have befallen their beloved master…he was just too curious to not know.

"You know what, screw going to the village," he said, washing his hands off. "Go get everyone together. We're going to finish that scroll, and we're doing it right now."

I don't remember the rest of the trip. Mohinder kept me sedated for the journey, he claimed, because of my injuries. I think he and I both knew that it was the only way I could deal with my grief. I recall cracking my eyes open every so often, finding myself being carried either in Ochir's arms or Ren's, with Li looking on worriedly. We had to move at night, or we would be discovered and arrested. Mohinder and Borte were in just as much danger. Borte suggested going to Mongolia, where surely we'd be safe, but Li protested, saying no place was safer than the Jade Palace.

We would find out later how right he was.

I don't remember how long we were traveling, but when the drugs finally wore off, I awoke back in our room…no, it was my room now. And suddenly all the physical and emotional pain came flooding back in a relentless torrent that wouldn't allow me rest. Li was the only one who could get me to eat, the only one who could force me to bathe, to drink, to actually get out of bed in the morning, although the night brought me no rest.

The first time Master Oogway saw me, he looked alarmed. He told me later that I looked like a wreck, like I had come from Hell and back and been torn up by demons' claws along the way. He genuinely feared that I would not survive my wounds, and he probably had very good reason to fear that. I felt like hell. I felt like falling asleep and never getting back up. My body felt too heavy to move; Ochir spent many days carrying me around after my legs failed me.

I saw very little of Ren in those days. His wounds had apparently been worse than my own, and Li spent much of his time skipping back and forth between my bedside and his husband's. When I finally did see him, I hardly recognized him. His whole body was covered with bandages, his right eye covered with gauze wrappings. A notch had been taken out of his ear, and he was missing patches of fur in various places. Also, the warm light in his eyes I had seen and appreciated so much was forever extinguished. Only a fool could not see how he blamed himself for this whole situation. Along with all his friends, he had lost his father as well; nothing we told him would console him. If possible, he was even more depressed than I was.

Before I knew it, a month had passed, though I wouldn't have realized it if I did not see preparations for the Autumn Moon Festival being made throughout the Jade Palace. A month without my wife…and I would have to suffer the rest of my life without her.

They say grief comes in stages. First is denial, then anger, many times acceptance, though sometimes never comes. I don't think I ever accepted she was truly gone, because I saw her everywhere I went. Everywhere in the palace, I could see her, easily imagine her sitting next to me at dinner, sleeping next to me at night, picking flowers in the gardens or practicing in the training hall, even enjoying a peach, smiling blissfully as the juices ran down her chin. Every time I heard a nightingale's call at night, it brought a strange comfort, like she was watching over me. Sometimes, I swore I could still smell her peony perfume in the air. I kept the bottle of it, locked away so no one else could touch it. I still take it out on occasion, forty years later, just to smell it and remind me of her scent again.

One morning I woke to the sound of loud sobbing. Most mornings it had been quiet—agonizingly so, at times—and when I opened my door and looked down the hall, I was surprised to find Ochir gently holding Borte, her shrieks cutting through the air like a thousand knives.

I stepped forward, silently begging, What's wrong?

Ochir looked back at me, gently petting Borte's feathers as she cried into his shoulder. He sighed and looked back with watery eyes, "Khan's dead."

I wobbled on my feet, grabbing onto the wall to keep from falling. Ochir went down the list of those lost; apparently the names had all been published by the new Emperor Rong's administration, all of them slandered as "traitors"; there was even a list of those still wanted, dead or alive, of which the four of us were most certainly at the top of that list.

Among the dead: Master Terbish and Master Jian Qiang, both of whom died fighting threescore Imperial soldiers apiece, and taking down every single one; rather than suffer at the hands of the new tyrant, they killed themselves to avoid dishonor. Every member of The Brotherhood except for Ren, Li, Mohinder and Borte, were dead; if any were not already dead, they were as good as. The Great Khan and most of his relatives were killed in battle, Khan himself fighting bravely until the very end, when Imperial soldiers were too frightened to attack him outright, felled him with a volley of a hundred arrows. Khan's two youngest sons survived and had made it safely to Mongolia, with a heavy bounty on their heads. In the past month, they had restarted the raids to the north, savagely killing Imperial soldiers and other Han Chinese in retribution. In the blink of an eye, over the course of one night, twenty years of peace was forgotten and violence reigned over the north once again.

And of course, these losses felt like nothing next to losing the woman I loved more than life itself.

I looked back at Ochir, realizing I had waited too long to follow through on his father's last request. "He's proud of you," I finally told him.

"What?"

"Your father. Before he told me to retreat, he wanted me to tell you that, no matter what your past or your differences, he loves you, and is proud of you."

Ochir was silent for a long moment, then he sniffed, nodded and smiled a little, his eyes watering up…but at least he cracked a smile, "Thanks, cretin."

I managed to crack my first smile in a month, "You're welcome."

A day later, we were roughly roused from sleep by a harsh banging on the gates. We scrambled from bed, meeting Master Oogway down in the arena. If you could have seen us that day…we were all a mess. We looked nothing like the honorable, brave masters we had been. We looked like vagrants, for heaven's sake, drunks, opium addicts, with dark circles and heavy bags under our eyes.

The banging got louder the closer we got. Oogway held up his hand to stop us; we stood three paces behind him. He instructed the servants to open the double-doors, and when they did, we panicked.

"Emperor" Rong sat in the doorway on a gilded palanquin, smirking triumphantly. He snapped his fingers and a servant lizard bowed to the "son of heaven" (my ass) and hurried forward. He opened a scroll and read aloud,

"By order of the most illustrious Son of Heaven, Emperor Rong, I hereby announce the immediate arrests of the following: Master Flying Rhino, Master Dong Li, former Lieutenant Jian Ren, and Master Shifu. They are to be tried for conspiracy, treason, and counts of murder so numerous it is impossible to count…"

Ochir and Ren shared a smirk, looking proud of those murder charges.

"…the penalty of which is death, either by hanging from the neck until dead, or behead—"

We gasped when Oogway's staff tore through the scroll. The astonished lizard barely got a word out when the tortoise picked him up by the tail and swung him around over his head before letting go, jumping high into the air and giving the swiftest, hardest kick I have ever seen. The lizard went flying, and Oogway marched straight up to the gilded palanquin, reaching inside past the gauze curtains and yanked Rong out by his ear. Rong yelped sharply, wincing as Oogway literally dragged the wolf across the muddy ground; it had rained the night before and, knowing my master, he probably was going to milk that for all it was worth. He should have looked dignified in those golden dragon robes, but the way he cowered in front of our master—the cowardly bastard—if any of us had ever respected him, it was long gone now.

Oogway threw the so-called emperor down on the ground, his staff on the back of his neck, forcing him to bow to us. Our master's voice had such an edge to it, all four of us stepped back in alarm. We had never seen him so angry, and I think Rong could tell we were worried…so naturally, he was worried too.

"How dare you…how dare you," Oogway hissed. I shared a look with my three friends and all of us visibly gulped. Oogway did not yell; he whispered. And when he whispered, so help you Gods, you had better listen. "How dare you come to my home, pound on my door, and order me to release innocent men into the hands of an angry mob? If you are looking for traitors and murderers, look no further than your own reflection! I am going to say this once, and only once," he reached down and grabbed the treacherous wolf by the throat, slowly tightening his grip.

They were face to face, Rong pale and terrified, Oogway resolute and strong as I had never seen him. He raised his voice, only a little, to give the "emperor's" guards the benefit of this warning.

"If I ever," he said softly, and slowly, intentionally drawing out and emphasizing every word, "ever see you, your soldiers, or any of your courtiers or officials in this valley, ever again, I will make you rue the day your mother conceived you. I will make you rue the day your father was conceived, and his father, and his father's father, and all the way down the line to the progenitor of your family tree. I will make you wish your clan never existed, and curse your mother's and father's name. And if you think you can threaten the lives of my students and friends…think again. If you dare to send anyone after them, wherever they may go, it is not my students you'll have to worry about, oh no…you will need to worry about me and what I will do to you. No one threatens my students, not even the so-called 'Son of Heaven'. Got that?"

Rong nodded vehemently, gulping and gasping for air. Oogway didn't look entirely convinced, but let him go anyway, dropping him to his knees. Master raised his voice, "If you are not out of this valley by noon, I am coming after you and will personally drag you to the Thread of Hope and toss you into the chasm. Now get out."

Rong scrambled to his feet, slipping and falling in the mud, his golden robes sullied and fouled. His bearers hardly waited for him to sit in the palanquin before they were off down the slope, marching double-time. One of the Imperial soldiers looked back over his shoulder, paled at Oogway's furious expression and ran down the steps as if a demon were hot on his heels.

As soon as they were gone, our master took a deep, cleansing breath, visibly pushing the anger from his system. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't smiling, staring out the open doors. He hailed to the servants to close and lock the gates, lest Rong be stupid enough to come back. When he turned to us, I admit, we took a step back. Then he smiled, "I always wanted to know if I could get away with that."

Li snorted, then smirked, "You created kung fu—what idiot would challenge you?"

"I'm afraid only an idiot would bother, Master Li," he chuckled. "My friends, you must heed my words," he continued, suddenly serious. "As long as you are living in this valley, I can protect you. One day—perhaps soon—I will be gone, and when that happens, Rong will not hesitate to bring you in. As long as you stay here, in the Jade Palace, I can guarantee your safety. But out there…I have no such luck. My influence only goes so far…"

"With the late Emperor," Ren said sharply. "Your influence was all over China. He respected you—Rong doesn't. You should have killed him!"

"And what justice is that?" Oogway asked, lumbering past us. "My good friend Emperor Yi is dead, may Heaven grant him a peaceful rest, and there is nothing that will bring him back. Remember we lost someone who was obsessed with such so-called, skewed ideals of justice?"

Ren was immediately silenced, and lowered his ears in shame. We all did. We were all thinking it. Rong was responsible for all the losses we suffered, and we all wanted his head as surely as he wanted ours.

While we let the matter drop that day, Rong was ruthless enough to find other ways to get to us. When he did, my friends could not sit back any longer.

It happened three weeks later, when the palace messenger flew into the Sacred Hall of Warriors, where Oogway had gathered us. He felt reviewing some of the scrolls in the library would do us some good by bringing us some focus to take our minds off the ever-worsening news from the outside. But the goose brought a scroll that changed everything, and effectively ruined my life forever.

He huffed and grabbed his side as cramps set in, handing the scroll to Oogway. When our master read it, his face paled, then just as quickly, clenched his hands into fists and ordered us out. Having seen him angry before, we knew better than to question. Before I left, he took my wrist, sighed heavily, and handed the scroll to me. "Read it. You have a right to know. I am very sorry, Fu."

He had called me Fu, but I knew I wasn't in trouble. That was when the sickening dread came in. I rushed outside into the late afternoon light, unrolled the scroll and read it, my friends looking over my shoulder. I barely got past the first sentence before I broke down, screaming and cursing, tearing at my fur and clothes in grief.

Rong's forces had gone to Mount Tai Lung and massacred every last snow leopard there. And as they were leaving, they razed the southern Zhou-tong village to the ground, and executed my father, the headman. They killed every member of my family. Worse, they left no orphans. My nieces and nephews, from the young adolescents to the tiniest babies, now lay with their parents and grandparents in a mass grave with the other villagers.

In the span of two months, I had gone from having almost everything—the only thing I lacked being a child to call my own—to losing absolutely everything. I was the last of my family.

I don't even remember fainting—probably from the shock—but what I do remember is waking up in my bed, my head aching, and that terrible scroll bearing that dreadful news on my bedside table. I was alone, with only the light of a single candle to guard me against the darkness of night.

I soon saw the piece of parchment tacked to the table. I tore it off, read it, and felt sicker than I ever had before:

Shifu,

Nothing I can say or do can ever make up for everything you lost. Ren, Ochir, and I are in agreement that Rong Lang can not get away with this. I don't know how to say this gently, but here goes: we're leaving. We're going to fight him, and his forces. We'll leave China if we have to, but we're coming back someday. With the Jade Emperor in Heaven as our witness, we will defeat Rong Lang, or die trying.

We will not go alone, but we are splitting up to cover more ground. Ochir and Borte are going north, to live with the Mongols; they will be safe there. Khan's surviving sons have promised a safe haven for them, somewhere in Outer Mongolia.

As for Ren and I, I can't tell you where we're going; it's not safe. Mohinder is coming with us. He's left medicine and instructions to the attendants for treating your wounds.

Ren wanted to leave immediately, and, as he is my husband, I'm going with him. It wasn't an easy decision. I may love Ren more than life itself, but I love you as well, and I always have. You were the first person to be nice to me in my new home, my first real friend, and you stood by me when I needed you most. That's why this is so hard. You stood by my side when I needed you, but I won't be there for you in your time of need. You need someone right now, and all I can do is ask you to have our Master Oogway by your side. Of anyone, I know he would never fail or forsake you.

For the love of the gods, Shifu, please hold on. We will be coming back, and we will avenge your family, and Yeying. Rong will come after us, not you; he wants Ren and I more than you, and if we lead him away, you will be safe. This is the last gift I can give you.

If you never hear from us, or any rumors about us, then assume we're well; it means we're doing our job right. If you hear our names, it is likely because we have been captured, killed, or worse. Pray for us, as you are in our prayers.

Love, your oldest, dearest, and eternal friend,

Dong Li

I barely made it to the chamber pot before I vomited, finally giving in to the sickened feeling I'd had since losing Yeying. I had lost everything. I lost my wife, and now my entire family, no doubt punishing them for their association with me. And why attack the clan of the Dragon's Lair? What had they done? Was it just because they were snow leopards?

I vomited again, coughing and spitting the bile out of my mouth. I shakily sat, staring across the room at Li's letter, and tears finally started falling.

First my wife, my Yeying…and now my family, my entire family, all dead…and now my friends had abandoned me. They had forsaken me. I needed them now more than ever, and they had left. How could I respect what they were trying to do? How could I when they had left me alone, hopelessly alone and depressed?

Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, I cried again for all I had lost, for the first time in my life feeling totally and hopelessly alone.

The summer soon lapsed into autumn, and as the days grew shorter and nights grew longer, and the weather colder, my depression increased tenfold. I had stopped training long before, finding it difficult to get up in the morning, then it became virtually impossible. My clothes were always wrinkled, rarely washed, my room in shambles, and I walked throughout the palace and the grounds like a man who had lost his soul. In essence, I had.

Oogway gave me time to grieve, knowing I needed some time. But as the weeks progressed into months, I could feel his worry starting to become more and more pronounced. Before long, and almost right before winter solstice, he insisted on a palace servant always being near me. By the end of that month, I was never left alone except to sleep and bathe, which I hardly ever did anyway.

My depression got worse just before New Year's. It was the second major holiday I spent without my wife and friends. Those first holidays, the first year, is the hardest by far. Each subsequent year, it gets a little easier, but that gaping wound in your heart never disappears. I had faced betrayal, loss, and death, and though I should have been grateful to be alive, I wished I were dead.

A few days before the Lunar New Year, I was walking the grounds late at night. The attendant who was assigned to me was sleeping at his post, so it was simple, child's-play, to sneak into the kitchen for a knife. I had lost all sense of mental faculty, and at first, I was scared, knowing what I was about to do. But I saw no alternative. I had thought long and hard of how to bring an end to my suffering, and had done so for a good month. Oogway had no idea. No one had any idea. And they wouldn't know until they found me in the morning.

I walked the grounds, knife in hand, searching out a proper place to be alone. I avoided the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom, having enough honor left to not sully that sacred ground with spilled blood. Not the bunkhouse, someone would have heard and tried to stop me. Any other location was too open, too much of a chance of being caught. My thoughts finally settled on the bathhouse; it would have been easy to clean up afterwards.

I slowly opened the door, taking a deep breath as I walked inside. Everywhere I looked, I was haunted by ghosts, memories I had of this place. I spotted Yeying's bathrobe hanging on a peg outside the women's bath. I took it, inhaling the scent that still lingered on it, feeling my eyes well up with tears. I was so close; a momentary panic swept through me, but it was too late to back out now.

I knelt on the floor, opening up my robe just enough to position the knife over my heart and closed my eyes…

Then I heard the crying.

I opened my eyes, my ears ticking, swiveling around. I wondered if someone had followed me and was about to stop me…but I was alone. The crying would not abate, an intense wailing that I could hear all the way from the bathhouse, but no one else could. Somehow after my head injury, I had developed such sensitive hearing that no one else could rival; I could hear things from great distances that fell silent on everyone else's ears.

The crying would not cease. It was coming from the arena. I growled and stood up, intent on putting an end to it so I could end my life in peace. When I got to the arena, it was empty and dark save for a single red lantern hanging above my head. I grabbed it, looking around. The crying had gotten louder, but there was no one in sight. It took a moment to realize through the fog in my head that it was coming from the other side of the walls.

I marched over, holding the lantern high. I unbarred the door, then swung them open.

My knife clattered to the stones as it fell from my nerveless hands.

It was a baby. A baby snow leopard.

The light shining on it settled it down a bit, but it still fussed, still cried, its face screwed up in a grimace of fear and loneliness. It was bundled up in a rich indigo cloth with an intricate design woven into it. But the night was cold; I could see the breath in front of my face. Who would leave a baby, alone, abandoned at the locked doorstep of a kung fu temple, on a night as cold as this?

My reaction was slow, shaking my head to clear the fog as I stepped out and picked the child up. As soon as someone was holding it, it stopped crying, and opened its eyes to look at me. Those eyes were unmistakable and I recognized them immediately as Min Lung's. There was no way to deny this was her child.

I looked around frantically, amazed that she had somehow avoided the massacre on Mount Tai Lung, but there was no one around. I called out, begging for someone to answer me, but all I got was silence. The baby began to fuss, shaking in my arms from the cold. I held it closer, and it started to quiet down now that it had a source of heat.

Without a word, I stepped back inside, closing the doors behind me. My eyes caught the glint of the knife in the lantern light and I stopped, realizing with horror what I had been about to do, the ultimate selfish act. My back hit the wall before I knew it, and I slid down when my legs failed me; I was clutching the baby so tightly it began to cry again.

This time, its cries—and eventually, mine—must have alerted one of the servants, who immediately sent for Master Oogway. When he arrived in the arena, I was still there, holding the baby and mingling its tears with my own. When I looked up at my master, I saw his wide eyes staring at the knife by my side. He fixed his stare back to me and wordlessly walked forward and picked up the blade…and promptly stabbed it to the hilt into the wooden doors.

I could hear the disappointment in his voice, "You are not to be left alone; someone will be with you, morning, noon, and night, no exceptions."

"I know," I said tiredly, feeling drained. I deserved every punishment he could give.

"I will not allow you to be alone for the next three months. If, by spring, you are not better and can still not be trusted to be left alone…" he left the threat open-ended. He probably had no idea what to do with me at that point. But I knew he'd think of something. Finally he looked down at the bundle in my arms.

He pulled away some of the blanket from the babe's face and his eyes widened, surprised as I was…but then he smiled.

Fixing his gaze on me again, this time, softened, he beckoned me to stand. "Come," he said. "Lets get him inside; it is far too cold to keep him out here."

I snapped myself out of it, realizing I hadn't even bothered to see if the child were male or female (they all looked the same at that age, I thought). I gathered what little strength I had left and followed my master inside, straight to the kitchen, where we found some rice milk to feed the baby (who turned out to be male after all). How my master knew the baby's gender without checking, I'll never know.

Oogway left it to me to feed him, citing that "these old hands aren't what they used to be", but I felt it difficult to keep steady as the child sucked away on a bottle filled with warm milk. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, and I couldn't believe how…at peace I felt. The child finished the milk in record time; I patted his back until he burped, and he closed his eyes and fell asleep in my arms.

"He knows who to trust," Oogway said with a smile.

"How?" I asked. "I don't even trust myself…"

He laid a hand on my shoulder. "Shifu, this is a time of new beginnings. The year of the snake is just about to begin. This child is year of the dragon, possibly only nine months old, by my reckoning, though you're better off asking a mother—they would know better than I the boy's approximate age."

I was staring at the design on the child's blanket, "I know this pattern."

"Do you?"

"It is common on Mount Tai Lung…"

"How interesting. Perhaps someone survived."

"Perhaps—this little one did, anyway. Somehow…" I shook my head. "But why here? And who?"

"I think you know, deep in your heart, as I know."

And deep in my heart, I believed it. It had to be Min Lung's son, of that I was certain.

"So what will you name him?"

"What?" I asked. Oogway smiled, caressing the child's cheek with the back of a claw; the child smiled in his sleep. "What will you name him?" he repeated.

"I can't keep him; I can't be trusted…"

"Alone, you can't be trusted to be alone, but with this little one…I have a feeling he is your salvation, your deliverance from the darkness that has consumed you."

I closed my eyes, adjusting the baby in my arms, and thought about my options. Outside, to my amazement, I heard the unmistakable sound of a nightingale's warble. It was something I had heard and agonized over for months, but at that moment, it appeared as a sign, divine intervention, and something else struck me. Something had stopped me from taking my own life, something had compelled me to seek out the source of the crying, and something compelled me to discover this child and bring him into the palace…thus, adopting him. The nightingale's song cinched the deal, and only confirmed my suspicions. In the end, it wasn't as hard a decision as I thought it would be.

"Tai Lung," I said. "His name is Tai Lung."

Oogway kept to his word, never allowing me to be alone; even when I bathed (which thankfully was frequently, now) a servant was not too far away. But even if there weren't a servant near me, I never allowed myself to be alone anyway.

The infant Tai Lung had taken over my life. I regret to say I ignored him the first couple of days because of my continuing depression, but by the time the New Year was about to begin, he seemed to be on to my plan, and demanded constant attention, crying until I showed up; his retribution for being ignored was swift and merciless. Night was the worst. He would fall asleep, wake up crying two hours later, then go back to sleep, and repeated the process about three more times before I could finally sleep the rest of the morning to make up for it.

At midnight on New Year's, I expected all of the commotion and the firecrackers and fireworks to alarm him and send the poor cub into a fit of hysterics…but he surprised me. He watched from my arms the display of lights in the night sky, and squealed with delight, smiling widely. But he looked at me with just as much fascination, and, even more shocking, love and trust.

It was that first day of the New Year that I fell in love with him.

Just as I was never out of Oogway's watchful eye, so Tai Lung was never without me. At nine months, he was able to sit up on his own and crawl. We spent most days of the two-week-long festival playing on the floor—and me spending most of that time keeping him from putting various objects in his mouth. More than a few times he bit me or clawed me, but it was never intentional, and he was too young to know any better. But let me assure you that milk teeth and infant claws hurt.

By the end of that first month, Oogway let up on my surveillance, and in turn spent less time avoiding me, and more time joining me in playing with "his grandson".

By the fifteenth day of the New Year's festival, Tai Lung officially became my son. People have since asked me, especially in the last twenty years, what on earth compelled me to adopt a snow leopard, raise him, train him in kung fu, and then have the audacity to support him even after the things he did. If only they knew…that night, that cold winter's night forty years ago, if it weren't for Tai Lung, I would be dead.

The first act that snow leopard ever did for me was save my life.

And, despite his mistakes, I still love him for that very reason.

When Po rolled up the scroll and set it aside, he looked at his comrades, noting the astonished, pained, yet thoughtful looks. Mantis was the first to speak, "Well, shit."

"Damn," Monkey said.

"Yeah, ditto," said Crane.

"I mean, holy shit," Mantis cursed again.

"Can you say anything other than that?" Tigress asked, annoyed. Mantis actually sniffed, and gave up the tough-guy outer shell, "I'm okay, I'm just…damn, that was intense…I think I need a hug."

Viper willingly complied, looking like she needed it as much as he did. Po closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. Tigress mirrored him, reaching for another wonton; she glared at the panda, "By the by, thanks so much for forcing me to pick up your habit…"

"Whatever," he shrugged, "If it makes you guys feel better…dig in, eat it all, I don't care."

Without another word, they gave in to the temptation to eat to make themselves feel better. Somehow, eating when they were upset didn't carry the same stigma it once had. After a long silence, Tigress put down her chopsticks and swore, "Damn it. Damn it to Hell."

"What's wrong?"

She groaned, running her hands over her face. "I can't hate Tai Lung anymore…" She didn't need to finish, because they all shared the sentiment; how could they possibly hate someone who saved the life of the master they loved?

I know I ask for reviews each chapter…but you don't have to, this time around. The ones I got from Chapter 16 broke my heart to read. Do people really become so attached to these characters? Jesus, if I ever publish a novel, I don't think I could handle the audience calling for my blood. I mean, hell, I cried when JK Rowling killed off Sirius Black, raved for days and called her a few names and made questionable comments about her personal hygiene (later recanted, of course, because I felt guilty, even though there's no way she would ever know). So, review if you feel like it. If I lose a few readers, I will not blame you. All I ask is please keep flames to a minimum. Thank you.

One last thing, Taigress Mix, new chapter, will also be posted tonight to help deal. Everyone needs a little comedy after all this, right?