Author's Note: Hope you all had a happy Independence Day! It's a wonderful day to honor the anniversary on which Will Smith punched an alien in the mouth. I'm kind of bored what with my guy friend who I usually text at camp, so I'm ready finish up this fic! Please enjoy.

Chapter Fifteen: The Girl With the Poison Needles

"To all my children, good luck! You have my greatest blessing. Now, let the competition begin!" The emperor clapped his hands, his voice still booming through his illness. Servants assisted his sitting down in the thick imperial garments. A gong was smashed and the two competitors, the 50th and 49th sons, began to do battle.

The competition to be leader of Xing took place in the imperial courtyard, which was large enough to hold a good fraction of the country's population. Ling's father was seated on a magnificent throne, close enough to see the action but far enough away not to get hit with any stray kunai.

To Ling, it seemed as though the week of the emperor's competition had come like a speeding train. One moment he was holding Lanfan's hand in Long Zhou's forge, and the next he was standing in an observation box reserved for the Yao clan, watching as his siblings fought below. Ling didn't like this at all. Family wasn't supposed to fight. The other clans felt the same, all solemn as they sat in their respective stands.

"Do you have a plan, Young Master?" Lanfan had stopped in to check on her employer, but she had to return to the Li Clan box soon. Ling vaguely observed that she had worn her hair in a ponytail, the same way he had styled it early in their journey.

"Not really. But then again, the best plans are made on the fly." He absentmindedly stroked his cutlass, accidently nicking his finger on the blade.

"Young Master!" She half-ran to help him, her legs restricted by her long skirt. Her mother had cleaned out a good portion of their family's funds on courting garb, insisting that it would act as insurance for the conception of an heir. Even the thought of it gave Lanfan shudders. She lightly held Ling's wrist as she accept gauze from a servant, beginning to wind it tightly around his palm.

"Wait," Ling said. He crossed his arms in that childish way he did. "Kiss it."

"Young Master," Lanfan protested, dipping her head. "I am betrothed. Soon, I will have children of my own, so I cannot keep mothering you."

This upset Ling even more than the cries of pain that rang out from the courtyard below as 49 lashed out even as he was being wrestled away from a blood-soaked 50. "Lanfan, are you going to stop working for me after you get married?"

She continued to dress the wound. "Well, the conception of a guard heir is ideal to the function of the Yao clan. Like my mother before me, I will most likely stop working for a great while. One of my cousins will probably protect you."

Ling sighed. "After you have your little heir?"

She bit her lip. "I think it would be best, in your wives' eyes, that after your union to them you would hire a male guard."

He sighed yet again. "All right. You do know best."

The many competitors came and left. May Chan had been escorted back to Xing, and had taken out her adversary with a few alkahestry tricks.

The time passed by Ling like a rush. He had barely time to prepare, when the scorekeeper's voice called out.

"Calling Ling Yao to the courtyard! It is your turn to fight!"

Ling spun his sword, amused by the whirring sound that it created. He couldn't wait to see what spoiled prince he got to defeat.

The scorekeeper, an elegantly dressed woman with a dangerous look in her eye, observed the scoreboard. Each clan's name was taken down on a square of cloth, and those who were eliminated got their name dropped. She traced a slender finger across the silk. "Ming Na to the courtyard!"

Ling swallowed. He'd have to fight his guard's fiancé's student and love. This was not good at all. Plus, he'd have to hit a girl! The hold-upper from Port Town was a crook, so of course he could handle her. But this was a princess.

Ming Na was quite beautiful, as Sou had theorized. A pale face and dark hair adorned with colorful ribbons of the brightest reds and sweetest pinks. But Ling couldn't help but laugh, as he dwarfed her by a good foot.

They ceremoniously bowed, and the gong was struck yet again. Ling maneuvered with the hilt of his cutlass facing out, hoping not to have to break skin. Ming tore the hem of her skirt, up to allow for more speed.

"Try and catch me, Idiot Prince." She said, her shoes clapping against the stone like the pitter-pattering of rain. Ling ran just as fast, cornering her.

"I really don't want to hurt you…." Ling approached her, slowly but surely.

"The feeling isn't mutual." She said, pulling the needles out of her hair. "Although the Na men were famous swordsmen, archers and such, the Na women were also known for a lethal art."

She threw the needles, Ling barely dodging. Even then, he could smell the noxious fumes of the poison as they grazed his cheek, fortunately not cutting his face.

Ming pulled the sash from her waist, unfurling it to expose many more needles attached to the scarlet belt. From a strap from her ankle she produced a blowgun. "I've got many more where that came from."

A volley of needles showered over him as he ducked behind a statue of a young child. An empress a while ago had all of her heirs captured in stone, a reason the courtyard was nicknamed The Valley of New Beginnings.

Poison corroded Ling's clothes and stung his hands as they skimmed his fingers. He was grateful that he'd gone with his thick shirt. Then, he realized that Ming had no tactics for close-combat.

The needles had stopped, as Ming waited for her prey. A devious smile played on her red-painted lips. "Come out; come out, wherever you are!"

She let out a shriek of surprise when she found Ling right behind her back. He sighed. "I don't spend all my time running from my guards. I actually learn from them."

Ming struck out, her palm crashing into his chin. Toppling back onto the ground, he stared up at the glaring girl.

"Why do you want to be empress?" He asked.

She froze. "It is an honor to represent the Na Clan as leader of Xing."

He shook his head. "That doesn't answer my question. I'm asking why you want to be empress. Is it for the luxury, the elegance?"

She bit her lip, reminding him of his female guard in the stands. "I don't want to be empress, particularly. I'm under so much pressure. Please let me win."

"Little Sister, if you let me win, I promise you, the Na Clan will not fall into irrelevance."

"Pinky promise?"

He laughed. "Pinky promise."

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