Chapter 12: Flame
Nestled in the Taihe mountains, the temple buildings sat on imposing heights. The sight was somewhat familiar, though unlike Yongtai, the Nanyan temple sat on cliff edges, as the name implied. It had taken the whole day to trek from the base of Taihe to the southern cliffs. Now the loose collection of timber and stone buildings finally appeared in her view.
At first, the sight of sheer stony cliffs had brought back bad memories. Flame had seen a similar facade during her flight from Li, seven years ago. And she was once again running from Li. But this time was different. Shaolin had been a mere two hundred li from Bianjing, and that had evidently not been enough. In the Taihe mountains, however, she was far from her home in Henan, and Li was located a good thousand li from her. Perhaps the Lian name would not be spurned here, in another province. It had been, after all, long enough. The spring breeze caught her hair lightly, and Flame was determined to forge a new life for herself.
Her only worry was Jiang. There had been a fatalistic gleam to her sister's eyes when Jiang was reassuring her that Li would be dealt with. But then again, her sister had told her that it was pointless to worry, and Flame saw truth in that.
She climbed silently after Wong, up the steps carved in stone, until they reached the temple gate.
“Here's the money from your horse,” growled the monk, and he handed her several strings, strung with hundreds of coppers, along with a bag containing taels of silver. “And some advice to go with it: don't stay here at Taihe.”
“Thank you, Wong shifu.” Flame accepted the money gratefully, yet the advice bothered her. “But why shouldn't I stay here?” It might be good, she reasoned, to try Taoism instead of Buddhism, to relieve her of the past. There was also an advantage here: she might learn to wield steel. It was now the only source of protection that she could reasonably expect to have. Marriage was out of the question, with her family name, and besides, Flame wasn't going to give that up any time soon. She briefly amused herself with the notion of becoming a knight-errant. The idea of dispensing justice to the wronged― particularly those like herself, was kind of appealing.
“It's your choice,” Wong replied cryptically. “But just remember, you don't have to go where the sword sways you.” He gestured at Xiang's blade.
“Wong shifu, I can't let go of what it means to me.” That was self-reflective of her. Flame wondered if she was becoming like Jiang.
“What does it mean to you?,” Wong exhaled heavily, as he rubbed his stubbly face. The answer seemed kind of obvious, but Flame groped for the right words as the monk watched her patiently.
“Power.” How else could she describe the sharpened steel, that Xiang could employ with such deadliness, that enabled nameless soldiers to face oppressive rich merchants, and that had carved her life until now? Wong raised an eyebrow.
“Interesting. Over yourself or others?”
“Both.” Flame was slightly loath to admit something that she wanted but did not have yet, but it was the truth.
“Well, better you learn it for yourself first.”
“I'll do that here.”
“That's your choice.” Wong gave her a tired grin. “But do it quickly. More useful that way. Goodbye, Flame.”
“Wong shifu.” She gave him a bow, money weighing heavily in her hand. Clearly Wong didn't intend for her to stay at Nanyan if he had given her cash...gained from selling her horse. It looked like she wasn't going to be headed for Bianjing any time soon either. The amount of thought people put into trying to control her actions annoyed her.
But Wong was gone, leaving her solitary, with sword in hand and money at her disposal. If she was to make the most of both, she would have to hide the latter somewhere. Flame didn't know much about Taoist temples, but if they were anything like Buddhist ones, there could be many travelers; unsavoury thieves included. Better that she appeared penniless, when she arrived.
A large flint rock sat near the gates. It seemed the right size, so Flame began digging beneath it with her foot. Then she worried that someone would come upon her as she dug; so slow was her progress, and so she began using the sword. Several sparks flew when she accidentally struck the rock on its side, and Flame nearly dropped the blade. Hastily, she shoved the money in the dirt, and pushed it as far as she could below the flint. Cleaning the sword on her side, Flame strolled to the gates and struck them.
As she waited for someone to arrive, Flame reflected on the possibilities now available to her. Alone she might be, but now she would be able to live entirely for herself. The idea was pleasing.