Chapter Forty-Two: Enemy of My Enemy
"You know," Shifu began, his gaze fixed on the mists stretching endlessly beneath the cliff's edge, "when I was young, the garden at the Jade Palace was… unimpressive."
Monkey, who had been absently fidgeting with a blade of grass nearby, glanced at him. "Unimpressive how?"
"It was barren," Shifu replied, his tone calm but deliberate. "The soil was rocky, the flowers sparse. I had only been a student for a few months, and Master Oogway tasked me with cultivating it. A test, I thought, though I couldn't fathom the lesson. I worked for days—digging, planting, watering. But nothing grew."
"Nothing at all?" Monkey asked, his brow furrowing.
"Nothing," Shifu said, his eyes narrowing as though he could still see that stubborn patch of dirt. "I grew frustrated. Told myself the earth was cursed, unfit for life. I almost gave up."
The two sat alone on a rocky outcropping that jutted out from the cliffside, the rest of their camp eerily still in the absence of Viper and Mantis, who had gone to seek news from travelers and refugees. Behind them, the embers of a dying campfire glowed faintly, their soft warmth offsetting the cool mountain air. The floating peaks of Hunan rose around them like ancient sentinels, their craggy spires disappearing into layers of silvery mist that veiled the lowlands below. The world seemed suspended, caught between earth and sky, as the faint light of dawn began to filter through the haze. Despite the heavy weight of uncertainty that clung to them, the landscape itself seemed otherworldly, a place untouched by the despair of mortals. Monkey traced patterns in the dew-dampened ground, while Shifu sat still as stone, his eyes fixed on the endless sea of mist as though it held answers he was determined to find.
Monkey tilted his head, his curiosity having won out. "So what did you do?"
Shifu showed a faint smile. "I kept working. Not because I believed the garden would bloom, but because I didn't know what else to do. I tilled the soil every morning, watered it every evening. Weeks passed. Then months. Nothing."
"Sounds hopeless," Monkey muttered.
"Hopelessness is often just impatience in disguise," Shifu said, his voice soft but firm as he held tightly to his staff. "One morning, after nearly a year, I stepped into the garden, expecting to find the same bare patch of earth. But there it was. A single, tiny sprout."
Monkey raised an eyebrow. "That's it? One sprout?"
"One sprout," Shifu confirmed. "But it was enough. The roots had taken hold beneath the surface all along, hidden from sight. What I thought was barren ground was quietly preparing for life."
Monkey leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs, staring out over the obscured lowlands. "So… you're saying hope's like that? Even when you can't see it, it's there?"
Shifu lifted his head slightly, considering. "I'm saying the work you do now, even in the face of nothingness, might one day bear fruit. But you must be willing to tend the garden, even when it looks like nothing will grow. It was Oogway's first lesson for me… and it was his final lesson too, in a way."
Monkey nodded slowly, his playful demeanor subdued. "And what happened to the garden?"
"It flourished," Shifu said simply, a flicker of pride in his tone. "Until it was destroyed by Kai, at least."
Monkey swatted a small stone from the cliff edge, "Hmph."
Shifu's gaze returned to the mists below, but the sound of hurried commotion from behind soon drew both his and Monkey's attention. They turned to see Viper and Mantis ascending the trail, their expressions tense and urgent. Following close behind them, to the surprise of both Shifu and Monkey, were Crane and Mei Ling.
Monkey straightened immediately. "Crane? Mei Ling?" he said, his voice rising with a mix of shock and relief.
Crane managed a weary nod, the faintest hint of a smile on his beak. Mei Ling, however, looked anything but at ease, her gaze darting from the cliff's edge to the masters before her.
"We weren't expecting to find anyone," Viper said, her voice low, as though unwilling to disturb the fragile serenity of the camp. "Least of all them."
Shifu stood, leaning heavily on his staff. "You've been gone longer than expected," he said, his tone measured, though his eyes betrayed concern. "What news?"
Mei Ling, without a word, unshouldered a worn satchel and produced a rolled map. As she spread it out on a flat rock, Mantis leapt onto it, scuttling toward a specific point.
"Bad news," Crane said, his wings folded tightly against his sides. "The Mongols have taken Wuhan."
Shifu stiffened. "Wuhan?"
"They came down through the plains faster than anyone expected," Crane continued. "The city fell in days. Now they're following the Yangtze eastward."
Mantis jabbed his claw at the map, tapping the sinuous line of the great river. "And you know what's waiting for them at the coast."
"Hangzhou," Shifu said grimly, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on the marked capital city.
Monkey let out a low whistle, leaning over the map. "They're making for the heart of the empire."
Mei Ling crossed her arms, her usual poise brittle under the weight of the news. "We saw the aftermath in the villages north of here. The scale of the destruction…" She hesitated, glancing at Crane before continuing, "It's not just an army anymore. It's a tide. A force that doesn't stop."
For a moment, the weight of the words settled over the group like a shroud. Shifu, ever composed, closed his eyes briefly, his grip tightening on his staff.
"I saw this coming," he said, his voice low but steady. "But not this soon. The speed of their advance…" His voice trailed off as his eyes returned to the map, calculating silently.
Crane stepped back from the rock, his wings trembling slightly. "If we don't act soon, Hangzhou will fall."
Mantis looked between Shifu and the others. "So what do we do?"
Shifu remained silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the curling lines of the Yangtze River as it wove its way eastward on the map. The cool mountain breeze stirred his fur, and finally, he looked up, his voice steady and deliberate.
"We have two duties," he said. "One to the Emperor and his capital, and one to the Valley of Peace. We cannot be in two places at once."
Monkey frowned. "So what's the plan, then? Toss a coin?"
Shifu ignored the remark and turned to Crane and Mei Ling, his gaze piercing but lacking its usual harshness. "Crane. Mei Ling."
Both stood straighter as he addressed them.
"I have not always been fair to either of you," Shifu began. "I have been too quick to judge, too slow to trust. That was my failing, not yours. But today, I must set that aside." He stepped closer, his voice softening. "The Valley of Peace must be protected. If the Mongols strike there while we are away, its people will have no chance. I cannot leave it undefended, but I must ask—will you take on this task?"
Crane exchanged a glance with Mei Ling before nodding solemnly. "Of course, Master Shifu."
Mei Ling's expression was calm but resolute. "We'll see it done."
Shifu inclined his head. "Good. Warn the villagers. Train them, if necessary. If the Mongols come, they must not find easy prey."
"We understand," Crane said.
Shifu stepped back, exhaling softly. "You will be on your own. I trust your judgment. Do what you must."
"What about the rest of us?" Mantis asked.
Shifu's eyes returned to the map. "The rest of us will head to the capital. If the Mongols are following the Yangtze, they will reach Hangzhou within weeks. Perhaps sooner. The Emperor must be protected, and we must do what we can to help fortify the city."
Viper's voice was quiet but firm. "It's dangerous. The Mongols will have scouts everywhere."
"Dangerous, yes," Shifu agreed. "But we cannot abandon the Emperor, nor the people of the capital. If Hangzhou falls, the consequences will ripple across all of China. We may be all that stands between them and total devastation."
Monkey sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "So we split up. Two teams. Twice the chance to fail."
"Twice the chance to succeed," Shifu corrected, his tone sharp.
Monkey smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Right. Let's go with that."
Turning back to Crane and Mei Ling, Shifu nodded. "Prepare to leave at once. The sooner you reach the Valley, the better."
Crane bowed slightly. "We'll leave within the hour."
Shifu watched them for a moment before turning to the others. "As for us, we move at first light. Pack lightly. The road ahead will be long—and treacherous."
The group began dispersing, each lost in their own thoughts as they prepared for the tasks ahead. The stakes had never been higher, but even amidst the uncertainty, there was a glimmer of resolve. They were the guardians of their homeland, and they would see their duties through—no matter the cost.
The teahouse was certainly an isolated place. For several miles in any direction, there was hardly anything else of note in the twilight borderlands of Sichuan and Gansu. Lanterns, strung from the ceiling's wooden beams, cast golden bands of light that softened the worn edges of the room. The mingling scents of fried dumplings, herbal teas, and the sharp tang of baijiu created a heady atmosphere contrary to the cool, damp air that lingered just beyond the doors.
Tigress sat at a corner table with her back to the wall, surveying the room with the practiced ease of someone who had long mastered the art of remaining inconspicuous. She managed to blend in well enough with the mix of farmers, merchants, and weary travelers who filled the space, though her stature and quiet intensity set her apart for those paying close attention. A small, shallow cup of Sichuan flower tea rested upon the table in front of her, its golden-hued liquid reflecting the flickering light.
The host of the establishment, a grizzled pangolin with a chipped scale on his snout, shuffled between the tables of patrons with brisk efficiency, his claws clinking against porcelain cups and wooden trays. On a small stage in the room's center, a musician accompanied a traditional Qingyin opera performance, the notes of their huqin weaving a steady, rhythmic backdrop to the narrative singing.
It had been some time since Tigress was last indoors, and the warmth of the teahouse, however modest, was a welcome change. For days, she had shadowed the movements of Tai Lung—or Boragal, as he now called himself—keeping to the ridges and tree lines where his forces would not notice her. The stories she'd heard from travelers painted a fragmented picture: a rebel leader who had united disillusioned Mongolian clans under his banner, many of whom refused to align themselves with Khasar Khan.
A hero and liberator to some, a dangerous wildcard to others.
It was the hooded figure that kept drawing Tigress' attention, however. They sat in the shadows near the farthest corner of the room, slouched over their table. Their cloak was nondescript, the fabric dark and travel-stained, but the two tufted ears poking through carefully cut openings in the hood gave Tigress pause. Snow leopard ears.
Her grip on her tea tightened ever so slightly. Her mind went immediately to Yuelen.
A chipped porcelain cup of baijiu sat before the stranger, and they raised it to drink. Their movements were deliberate, unhurried; but Tigress couldn't shake the feeling that those concealed eyes were fixed on her every move.
Tigress had tried not to think too much about the Mongol princess in the days since her return to the mortal realm. But now, staring at the snow leopard, she felt a cold, coiling tension settle in her chest. It couldn't be her.
Could it?
She thought back to what Fei Lian had said. The princess was still alive, still out there somewhere.
The creak of the teahouse door swinging open broke Tigress from her spiraling thoughts. Her focus shifted towards the entrance, her muscles instinctively tensing.
A wolf stepped inside, shaking droplets of mist from his traveling cloak. He wasn't particularly tall or broad, but there was a strength to him, a wiry resilience beneath his light garments. His cloak hung loosely from his shoulders, its edges damp from the weather outside. He moved with a confidence that bordered on cockiness, the kind of bravado Tigress recognized immediately—youthful and untested.
As his eyes swept the room, they landed on her. His expression shifted, his brows rising slightly as if he'd just stumbled upon the person he'd been looking for. Without hesitation, he strode across the room, weaving through the tables with the ease of someone who didn't much care if he was noticed.
Tigress remained still, her cup of tea untouched on the table in front of her. She met his gaze evenly, reading every step he took, every motion, every breath. His confidence was a mask, she could tell. Beneath it was something raw, something eager—dangerous not because of any malice, but because of its unpredictability.
The wolf stopped at her table and pulled out the chair across from her, seating himself with a casualness that belied the intensity of his stare. For a moment, neither spoke. The room around them seemed to fall away, the hum of conversation and the musician's melody fading to a distant backdrop.
The pangolin host appeared beside them, breaking the silence. "What'll it be?"
The wolf didn't look away from Tigress. "Your reserve spirits," he said, tossing a small pawful of coins onto the table. "Bring the bottle."
The pangolin hesitated, glanced at Tigress, then shuffled off to fetch the order.
Still, the wolf said nothing. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his cloak shifting to reveal a pair of short blades strapped to his belt. His paws rested on the table, relaxed but ready.
Tigress studied him in return, her feline eyes catching every detail—the rough edges of his tunic, the way his ears twitched ever so slightly, betraying his effort to appear calm.
Finally, he spoke.
"How did you do it?"
Tigress didn't respond right away, her gaze focusing as she took his measure.
"Do what?" she returned at last.
The wolf leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Lord Boragal. You fought him—and you won."
Tigress' jaw tightened, though her expression remained neutral. She could see it in his eyes: admiration. Not for her, but for Tai Lung. For her brother.
"His name is Tai Lung."
The wolf seemed confused, "My lord is The Grey Flame, The Demon of Dūnhuáng. Tai Lung is not a name I've heard. How do you know this?"
The tiger set her cup down deliberately, the faint clink of porcelain against wood filling the space between them.
"What's your name?" she asked, ignoring his question entirely.
He smirked, baring a hint of sharp teeth.
"Yul."
Tigress held Yul's gaze, her expression unreadable. The wolf's grin lingered, but she could sense the curiosity burning behind his sharp eyes. He leaned forward slightly, taking a quick glance in either direction as his elbows came to rest on the table.
"How did you do it?" he asked again, his voice quieter this time but no less insistent. "How did you defeat Boragal?"
Tigress let the question hang in the air for a moment, letting the weight of her silence press against him.
"It wasn't as impressive as you seem to think," she said finally, her voice even. "He underestimated me. That's it."
Yul frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. But before he could press further, the pangolin returned, setting a dusty bottle of spirits and a single cup on the table. Yul reached for it immediately, pouring himself a drink with a steady paw.
Tigress watched him carefully as he raised the cup to his maw and took a sip, his expression shifting to one of mild surprise at the potency of the alcohol. He set the cup down, his claws tapping lightly against its rim.
"I've seen you," he said, his tone casual but his words pointed. "For days now, you've been following us. Sticking to the shadows, keeping your distance, but always there."
Tigress' eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing.
Yul leaned back in his chair, his confidence returning as he continued. "I couldn't let that go unanswered. So I tracked you down. And now, here we are." He gestured vaguely to the teahouse around them, his smirk returning.
The tiger's gaze did not waver.
"What do you want?"
The wolf leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the table. "I want you to join us," he said simply.
Tigress' ears twitched, but her expression remained neutral.
"You've seen what Boragal is capable of," Yul continued. "You've faced him and lived to tell the tale. That means you're strong—stronger than most. We need fighters like you. People who understand what we're fighting for."
"And what is that, exactly?" Tigress asked, her voice cold.
Yul's personable disposition faded, replaced by a shadow of something heavier.
"Khasar has lost his way," Yul said. "He's no longer fit to be Khan. He's betrayed the clans—killed their chiefs." His gaze became distant for a moment, as if suppressing rage. "My chief was among the ones slain at Khanbaliq."
Tigress watched him silently, her expression unchanging, though she noted the way his claws clenched slightly at the edge of his cup as he raised it to drink once more.
"That's unforgivable," Yul continued, his voice sharpening. "The clans used to stand for something. Honor. Tradition. Khasar has burned all of that to the ground."
He paused, his eyes moving back to hers, searching for a reaction. Finding none, he pressed on.
"But Lord Boragal—he's different. He's strong, yes, but more than that, he inspires people. Gives them hope. He's showing us that there's still a way forward—you should really hear him speak sometime."
Tigress remained silent, her gaze locked onto Yul. His words were passionate, almost reverent, but they only hardened her resolve. She knew the real Tai Lung. Whatever façade he had built for himself as Boragal, she knew the truth that lay beneath it.
"You think he's a hero," Tigress said at last, her voice cutting through the space between them. "A champion of the people."
Yul straightened slightly, his confidence swelling at her acknowledgment. "I don't think it," he said firmly. "I know it. You've fought him—you must have seen it, too. His resolve."
Tigress rested her arms on the table, her claws just barely grazing the wood as she tilted her head, studying Yul as if he were an enigma she had no interest in solving.
"Admiration," she said, the word slow and deliberate, "is dangerous when it is blind."
Yul bristled at her tone, his ears flicking back for just a moment before he steadied himself.
"I am not blind," he argued. "I've seen what Boragal can do—what he's done for the clans. He's brought us together. Without him, there's no one to stand against Khasar. No one with his strength, his vision."
Tigress didn't waver, her voice slicing through Yul's fervor, "You've seen what he wants you to see. You think his strength will save you, that his vision will lead you to victory. But strength without discipline is chaos. And vision… without wisdom?"
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle.
"That's just ambition with a prettier name."
She was showing teeth now, and Yul got the impression that there was something personal at stake for the tiger—but he couldn't begin to guess what it might be. Yul leaned forward again, though more cautiously this time. The assuredness in his posture had dimmed, but it hadn't vanished entirely.
"Look," he said, his tone softer, almost imploring, "maybe you don't like Boragal. Maybe you don't trust him. But you can't deny what he's accomplished."
Tigress didn't react much, but Yul pressed on. "Even if you don't believe in him, you have to admit he's the best chance we have. Without him, Khasar will keep burning his way across the land. There's no one else who can stop him... or his beast."
At that, Tigress twitched ever so slightly, and she sat up straighter.
"Beast?" she asked, her voice low and measured, but with an edge of curiosity she couldn't completely conceal.
Yul was momentarily caught off guard by her sudden interest. "Oh," he said, seizing the opportunity, "so you haven't heard?"
Tigress said nothing.
Yul leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Khasar commands a dragon. They say it's unstoppable. A creature of fire and fury, bound to his will. With it, he's taken Xiangyang, and now most of the Yangtze River Valley."
Tigress' composure faltered for the briefest of moments. Her claws flexed against the table, and her breath hitched before she could catch it. She forced herself to remain still, to mask the sudden emotions that came over her.
The Mongol horde had a dragon. She didn't need to ask. She already knew what—who—it was.
Po.
In her mind, a scarring vision of Fei Lian came over her for the briefest moment. The thought struck her like a physical blow, but she fought to keep her expression neutral, unwilling to betray the turmoil beneath the surface. Yul, misinterpreting her silence as shock at the revelation itself, leaned back, nodding grimly.
"Now you see why we need Boragal," he said. "Surely, he's the only one who can even come close to holding Khasar at bay. With his leadership, we have a chance. Without him…" He trailed off, letting the weight of his words hang in the air.
Tigress forced herself to respond, her voice steady despite what she felt within.
"And you think this dragon, this... beast, can be stopped?"
Yul hesitated, his confidence faltering. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I know we can't just roll over and let Khasar take everything. If anyone can find a way to fight it, it's Boragal. And with someone like you at his side…" He gestured toward her. "Well, that could change everything."
Tigress didn't respond, her thoughts racing too fast for words. Yul sighed, finishing the last of his drink in one long gulp. He set the cup down with a thud and stood, adjusting his cloak.
"I've said my piece," he said, looking down at her. "Think about it. Whether you trust Lord Boragal or not, we both know Khasar's reign needs to end. And it's going to take all of us to make that happen."
He turned, tossing a few more coins onto the table for the pangolin before heading for the door. "When you're ready to join the fight, you'll know where to find us."
Tigress was honestly just happy to see the conversation concluded, finding the wolf's youthful edge to be incredibly bothersome. The door swung shut behind him, leaving Tigress alone at the table.
Her tea had gone cold, but she didn't notice.
The soft rustle of fabric broke Tigress' train of thought. She looked up sharply to find the cloaked leopardess now standing at the edge of her table. The feline's fur blended with the shadows of her hood, her face still obscured.
Tigress resisted the urge to sigh. First Yul, now this. It seemed the teahouse had become a gathering point for all manner of troublemakers and strangers which had come to see her.
The snow leopard pulled back the very same chair opposite Tigress and settled into it with an unhurried grace, as though she had all the time in the world. Without a word, she reached for the dusty bottle Yul had left behind, pouring a generous measure into one of the spare cups on the table.
"Shame to waste a good drink," the leopardess remarked, her voice smooth and deep, carrying an older, weathered tone that caught Tigress off guard.
Her eyes widened. That voice wasn't Yuelen's—it lacked her sharpness, her youth.
There was something off about the stranger, something Tigress couldn't quite place. The leopardess moved with the ease of someone accustomed to dangerous situations, her every motion deliberate and precise.
"And you are?" Tigress asked, her tone sharp.
The snow leopard revealed nothing in her bearing.
"A traveler," she said simply. "Much like yourself, I imagine."
Tigress' patience was already wearing thin. "That's not an answer."
"No," the leopardess agreed, swirling the liquid in her cup, "but it's the one you'll get for now."
The leopardess tilted her head back slightly, just enough for Tigress to catch a glint of her eyes beneath the hood.
One iris gold; one iris blinded, dull blue.
Wait…
The stranger sipped from the cup, her expression unreadable, and then set it down with a faint clink.
"You seem troubled," the leopardess said, her tone light but edged with something sharper, something knowing.
Tigress straightened slightly, irritation crossing her features. "If I am," she replied coolly, "it's no business of yours."
The leopardess chuckled softly, "Perhaps not. But trouble has a way of drawing attention. And you," she added with a knowing edge, "seem to have plenty of it to spare."
The tiger nearly grimaced. The stranger's words stung with unsettling accuracy. Still, she didn't let her guard down.
"What do you want?" she asked, cutting straight to the point.
"Yul's a good kid, but he can't see that Tai Lung and Khasar are one in the same. Frustrating, I know."
The fact that this stranger knew her brother's true name was certainly unsettling for Tigress.
"An alternate proposition," the leopardess said, placing a small figurine upon the table.
The carved feline figure glinted in the dim light; at its base was a distinct symbol—a cat's head, fanged with three diagonal slashes.
Something clicked in Tigress' mind, and her eyes widened. The stories Po had shared in passing suddenly crystallized.
"My friend told me about you once," she said, her voice low, almost disbelieving. "I figured you'd be dead by now."
Su Wu smirked, a dangerous edge to her grin. "That's what everyone says," she replied, baring her teeth slightly.
The old leopardess lowered her hood at last, and for a moment, the two stared at each other in silence. Then Su Wu spoke again, no less intense than before.
"Tai Lung is a headstrong fool. Always has been, always will be. But even fools have their uses. I don't care for him, and I don't trust him. But right now? He's the idiot with an army, and that army serves my purpose."
"An idiot with an army," Tigress repeated slowly, her voice heavy with skepticism. "That's really all you see him as?"
"Oh, don't mistake me. He's dangerous—exceptionally so. But he's also ruled by his pride and the need to prove himself. That makes him incredibly easy to manipulate."
Tigress wasn't particularly convinced. "And what of your purpose?" she asked. "What exactly do you hope to gain from all this?"
The grin faded from Su Wu's face, replaced by something colder, darker. Her eyes fixed to Tigress' as she leaned forward, her voice dropping into a growl.
"Revenge."
Tigress didn't respond immediately as she studied the snow leopard's face. There was no hesitation, no doubt in Su Wu's expression—only a searing hatred that burned within.
"Khasar used me," Su Wu continued. "Many years ago, my sisters and I crushed the Jackal Nation for him—reduced his sworn enemies to naught but ash. He was nothing back then, just another pathetic little steppe prince vying for control. We made him powerful. And what was our reward?"
Her voice grew quieter. "He repaid us with treachery. Not long after that tortoise came along and ruined everything, Khasar's warriors ambushed us when we were weak and vulnerable."
Tigress watched as Su Wu picked up the figurine once more and studied it with morose recollection.
"My sisters… died fighting for their lives. I only survived because I was lucky enough to be left for dead."
"So this is personal," Tigress observed in a lowered tone.
"Isn't it always?" Su Wu replied bitterly. "Khasar needs to be killed. If that means using your brother and his rebels to get close enough to bury my claws in the Khan's throat, so be it. Don't misunderstand, Tigress—I'm not asking you to trust me. I don't expect you to."
There was something terrifying about the intensity in Su Wu's bearing, the sheer singularity of her purpose. By now, Tigress wasn't all that surprised to discover that the leopardess knew her true identity as well.
"You're right, I don't trust you." the tiger confirmed. "I don't put much faith in criminals and assassins."
"If you trust nothing else, trust in the hatred that your brother holds for Khasar. And right now, that's enough. Because whether you like it or not, Tai Lung is your best chance at stopping the Khan."
Tigress fell silent. The situation was indeed worse than she had imagined. Khasar's grip on the empire had tightened, his reach spreading like poison across the land. Po had been corrupted into a monstrosity, and her other friends were undoubtedly in grave danger. But despite all that, the very idea of working alongside Tai Lung still churned a deeper knot of revulsion in her chest. Unlike the wolf from before, Su Wu could see right through her attempts to hide these feelings.
"If there were any other way, Tigress…" the leopardess said, her claws brushing against the edge of the figurine. "Do you think I'd have bothered coming all the way out here just to see you?"
Tigress stared at her, unsure whether to be flattered or furious. The divergent shades of ruthlessness in the leopardess' eyes had an undeniable hunger—one which would give even the most stalwart hero pause.
Su Wu gave a wry chuckle, though it lacked any humor. "Tai Lung would sooner tear his own ears off than listen to my counsel. I have no illusions about what he is. But even he recognizes what you are—what you could be."
"What I could be?"
The snow leopard nodded sardonically. "He's convinced you're the key to his victory. Says it came to him in a vision."
"A vision," Tigress repeated flatly.
"Oh, yes." Su Wu's grin widened. "He dreams, your brother. Claims the heavens themselves showed him you'd appear, that your strength and benevolence would help the rebels to triumph over Khasar."
Once more, Tigress could not help but think of Fei Lian and what role he might have in this madness. The empire's gradual descent into chaos—it all felt like part of some larger, unfathomable game. And Fei Lian was the player pulling the strings, always one step ahead.
Su Wu's grin faded slightly as she studied Tigress, her gaze softening just a fraction. "You look tired," the snow leopard said, her voice almost casual, though there was a subtle note of concern beneath it. "I'd wager you haven't slept under a roof in quite some time."
Tigress straightened slightly, unsure whether to bristle at the comment or let it slide. Su Wu didn't wait for a response. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a few coins, tossing them onto the pangolin's counter with a clink. "For a room," Su Wu called over her shoulder. "She'll need it."
The pangolin gave a small, uncertain nod as he gathered the coins, clearly hesitant to intervene in whatever strange dynamic had been unfolding between the two formidable felines.
Tigress frowned. "I didn't ask for—"
"No, you didn't," Su Wu interrupted, rising from her seat with a smooth, deliberate motion. She adjusted her cloak, the hood once again casting her face into shadow. "But you'll need your strength for what's coming. Consider it... a gesture of good faith."
Tigress opened her mouth to protest further, but Su Wu was already stepping away from the table. The snow leopard paused at the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder one last time. "Think about what I said, Tigress. If you truly want to save them—the people you care about—you know what you have to do."
With that, Su Wu slipped out into the night, her silhouette vanishing into the darkness as the teahouse door swung shut behind her.
Tigress found herself alone at the table, one of the few remaining patrons in the dining area. The once-bustling room had quieted, with most travelers having retired to their rooms for the night. The pangolin behind the counter began cleaning up for the evening.
Her gaze fell to the table. The small feline figurine was gone—taken by Su Wu—but the bottle of reserve baijiu still remained. Its presence felt like a challenge, or perhaps an invitation. Tigress hesitated for a moment, then reached for the bottle.
"Why not," she muttered under her breath.
Pouring a small measure into her empty cup, Tigress brought it to her lips. The sharp, fiery burn hit her immediately, catching her by surprise. It was far stronger than anything she was accustomed to, and she coughed slightly, her throat protesting the unfamiliar intensity.
She set the cup down and exhaled slowly, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. The room seemed quieter now, the distant murmur of voices from upstairs fading into the background. For a moment, she let herself linger in the stillness, her mind turning over the evening's developments.
Could she really align herself with Tai Lung?
Tigress glanced at the bottle, then poured another drink into her cup. The taste was still harsh, but she managed to swallow it more smoothly this time. Su Wu had been right about one thing, at least. It would be a shame to waste a good drink.
The minutes began to pass more swiftly. The bottle of baijiu was at last empty now, and she finally pushed herself up from the table, her legs beneath her perhaps a bit more unsteady than she would have liked. The pangolin behind the counter glanced up, but Tigress waved him off with a dismissive gesture, her pride keeping her upright as she shuffled toward the stairs.
Tigress' paws felt heavier with each step, the faint creak of the wooden stairs amplifying in her ears. By the time she reached her suite, she barely registered the modest furnishings of the room. The softness of her bed enveloped her immediately, and she sank into it with a sigh, her body succumbing to the weight of exhaustion.
The world around her blurred and faded, and for the first time in a long time, Tigress' mind was still.
Author's Notes:
- I have long wanted to write something of a "cold open" scene like the one in this chapter, particularly between two characters that do not interact often
- Credit goes to FFN user Tydrags for her OC, Yul, who has been adapted into this story
- This chapter also introduces us to Su Wu, who I enjoyed depicting in the role of the old assassin out for vengeance
- Thank you for reading - until next time!