‘Mr Lee is to return across the veil when his work here is complete. Keep him safe. He is important to my plans for the future of yin Shanghai. Don’t let him drink any of Madame Meng’s oblivion tea or set foot on the Naihe Bridge.’
‘Of course.’ I smile again, and the fool mortal smiles back at me.
I walk awkwardly back and forth on the terrace between Horsey and Bullhead, trying to move comfortably with a long sword hanging from my waist. The damn thing keeps catching the side slit of my qipao.
I throw my arms up. ‘How am I supposed to protect him if I’m tripping over my own feet?’
‘Since you have yet to master Celestial command, you must carry a sword of Hell in order to convey my authority in this matter,’ Big Wang calmly explains again as he refills the mortal’s tea.
‘I know that. But I can’t do it wearing a qipao.’ I pull the rotted dress higher to free my legs.
Horsey stares at my knees which haven’t fully healed from last night’s scrapes. His eyes squint, his lips purse, and his mouth pulls down at the corners, like he’s sucking a salted plum. ‘Aiya, what in Tian have you done to yourself? And I don’t remember those side slits being so high.’
I don’t have the patience for this again. ‘If it’s so bothersome to see my knees – get me one of those.’ I gesture to the mortal’s outfit. Jacket, shirt, and wide-fitting trousers. Mr Lee looks down as if surprised to find himself clothed. I continue to press my point. ‘The Western suit covers ankles, knees, and butt while allowing completely free movement.’
Horsey grimaces like I’ve just pushed out a big steaming spiral of dabian right there at his feet. I suck my teeth and appeal to Big Wang instead. ‘Think of how comfortable you find your silwar trousers. I want the same comfort. I don’t want to constantly have to worry about propriety.’
‘Since when are you ever concerned about propriety?’ Horsey huffs, his tone shrill.
With a very ripe and lengthy snort, I work up another gob of snot. The mortal laughs – it’s short, almost a bark, but he hurriedly covers it with a coughing fit.
‘I’ve had enough of your disrespect!’ Horsey abandons his post, takes two determined steps towards me as he pulls out his sword with a whistling ring.
Glee pulls up a corner of my mouth. Bullhead was the one who taught me my sword forms, and while I can’t best Bullhead yet, Horsey and I are well matched. I hold my hork, saving it for an opportune moment.
I flick my gaze over him, then lazily pull out my own sword. What emerges from the long, curved sheath is not a narrow jian sword, but a zhang sword. The long pole is weighted with silver at one end to counterbalance the spiked blade, three times the width of Horsey’s. My grin widens.Why hello, friend.
This is a weapon to strike fear in all of Tian, even Celestials. A blade of Hell has the power to carve out a yaojing’s primordial qi, the source of their regenerative powers. Without it, death isn’t a mere pause. It is final and eternal. I’m not a trained guard of Hell, so don’t have the skills to wield the full power of the blade and alleviate that dratted Soo of her immortality... butshedoesn’t know that.
‘C’mon Horsey, let’s play,’ I say.
The mortal stares at the swords, each one glowing blue, waving in the air like a pair of battling cobras. His lips roll under his teeth, like he’s trying not to laugh. Big Wang sighs. He holds his hand up, gently pats the air. With his other, he sips his tea, doesn’t even look at us.
Horsey stands down immediately, returns to his post behind Big Wang. He sheaths his sword, but he’s still glaring at me, his fingers wrapped around the sword hilt with white-knuckled outrage. His chest rises and falls as if he’s run a few li. I hold my position, just in case. He’s always nagging me about my temper, but he’s the one who needs to work on his self-control.
Big Wang places the fine porcelain cup on the table. He does it softly, so softly the near transparent china doesn’t make so much as the tiniesttinkagainst the marble. He isn’t looking at me, but I can tell I’m a touch too close to crossing the line. I do a showy spin with my sword, then sheath it, the broad blade magically sliding into its much narrower cover. At least now I won’t need to gob on Horsey to make him shut up.
‘Hua Mulan wore trousers.’ I invoke one of my heroes, the girl who took on an army and proved herself the equal of any man.
‘Hua Mulan wore trousers because she was a warrior,’ Big Wang says. ‘You are a lady.’ His voice rumbles across the quiet terrace.
My patience burns dry. ‘His blood will call every jiangshi in city limits, not to mention his yang qi! Look at him!’ I gesture at Mr Lee. He’s staring at his plate, studiously eating. He emanates a faint golden glow that pulses in time with his heartbeat. ‘If I’m to protect a walking blood sausage, I need to move and react like a warrior.’
Big Wang makes a disapproving noise in his throat and turns to the mortal with a shallow bow. ‘My apologies for my ward’s rudeness, Mr Lee.’ Though Big Wang is addressing the mortal, his gaze slides to me.
Uncowed, I lift my chin, bracing for another argument.
But the mortal shakes his head with a smile. ‘This humble one is not at all offended. Lady Jing is right; itwasdifficult for her to run and carry me last night.’
We all stare at him, and I realise he’s given me an opening, welcome, though unasked for.
‘Make me trousers,’ I say into the lull. ‘Like Mr Lee’s. Make them the same fabric as Bull— I mean Lord Nioh and Lord Ma’s changpao so I look like one of your guards. For my top, I can still wear this. Just cut off the bottom.’ I slice my hand across my waist. ‘That way I can move, which means I can protect the— I mean, Mr Lee, and not scandalise anyone.’ I glare pointedly at Horsey.
‘I will think on it,’ Big Wang says. ‘Now show me your sword forms.’
I back away from the table to give myself room. If this doesn’t convince Big Wang he needs to adjust my clothing, then nothing will. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, focussing inward, seeking the core of my qi. When I find it, when I can feel its energy flowing through me, I visualise the thirty-two sword forms and begin.
In one smooth motion, I unsheathe my sword and step lightly into the first form, Three Rings Around the Moon. I slowly flow into the second form, the Big Dipper, smiling to myself. Balancing on my right leg, I lift my left knee and bend it outwards while I squat low with the sword held above my head. In order to achieve proper form, I have to wriggle the qipao past my upper thighs and wriggle some more to force the dress to ride higher.
