Page 27 of The Hopeless Romantic’s Guide to Enchantment

She kicked over the lantern, spilling its oil across the floor. Ducking into the cool darkness of a covered walkway, Feifei leapt to the roof. She had a clear view of both the study and the walkway from the front courtyard. The stranger was still grappling with the magistrate as flames licked the floor boards and snaked through the room.

The guards would put out the fire, she reasoned. They were fast and the magistrate’s office was well-equipped for such emergencies. The stranger was more than skilled in martial arts; he would also be fine, so long as he escaped.

The guards were fast approaching. Metal scraped metal – a sword pulled from its scabbard – bringing on an awful feeling, like someone wringing her spine in a bucket of ice-cold water.

The stranger had freed himself from the magistrate and was nearly out the study doors. But he was a step too slow. The guard would skewer him before he managed to plant both feet in the courtyard.

Feifei cursed. What was the youxia to her? She should leave, escape, not risk her freedom and her family’s reputation for a stranger. He’d even groped her! But her indignation was as short-lived as her indecision. He wanted the scroll; didn’t even know about the breasts.

She pulled a small stone from a pocket and blew on it until it glowed with her qi. She flicked it at the guard, waiting just long enough to be sure her aim was true before flying across the roof ridge.

Behind her, a sword clattered to the ground, accompanied by a howl of pain.

* * *

The moon had untangled itself from the clouds, stealing away the darkness Feifei needed to stay hidden. Against the star-strewn sky, the silhouette of the roof ridges and its guardian beasts were as crisp as a paper-cutting. She cursed her bad luck. To stay within the shadows of the rooftops, she’d have to crouch low. Her thighs and back would be screaming by the time she made it home, but there was nothing for it. She gritted her teeth and raced along the roof ridges, her feet silent against the ceramic tiles.

Again, her neck prickled. Behind her came the telltale flutter of legs moving quickly, the swish of silk against air. The stranger was giving chase.

Across the rooftops, two shadows flitted and whirled like drunken butterflies, making their way to the edge of town. Feifei led the stranger to a bamboo forest by an abandoned courtyard mansion, with a derelict tower that kept the mansion’s rooftops hidden from prying eyes.

Feifei sped through the soaring bamboo stalks, stepping from tree to tree until she reached the heart of the grove. She whirled midair, landing lightly on a nearby branch. Seeing she was no longer running, the stranger did the same, swaying gently among the leaves.

“I seek only the scroll you took from me; return it and I shall leave,” he said.

Feifei raised her hands in zuoyi, left hand wrapped around her right fist, raised right thumb visible. “Since I saved your life, I accept the scroll in payment.”

The stranger raised his own hands in zuoyi and offered her a short, sharp bow. The leaves rustled as if they were laughing. “A mountain of gratitude for this saved life.” Each move ment of the zuoyi greeting was made with ritual precision. Correct and respectful. However, his tone was anything but.

Feifei was no stranger to ridicule. She was a woman after all, meant to be confined to the home, fettered by the ‘three obediences’ which required her to obey, in all things, first her father, then her husband, and finally her son. But she was also her mother’s daughter, educated in turn by Hsiao Niang, a woman so adept at balancing respectability with self-respect that she was lauded by all for her virtue, her obedience, while always doing exactly as she wished.

Rage coursed through her. “Ungrateful scoundrel! You’d have been skewered if not for me.” Feifei launched herself at him.

He feinted retreat, then stepped forward; they ended up mask to mask, standing on the same branch. Expecting his hand down her robe again, she spun away – only for him to use her momentum to spin her full-circle to face him again.

Holding her by the wrists, he leaned close and whispered, “This is my payment for your kindness.”

His voice was gentle, but the sudden knee to Feifei’s groin was not. A strategically placed stuffed pouch absorbed most of the impact, but she played the part, grunting and gasping as she leapt backwards out of reach.

Dropping all pretence of civility, they charged each other with renewed ferocity, leaves whipping them as they tore through the forest canopy to the abandoned mansion’s rooftops. Their skills were well-matched, his strength mitigated by her speed. She couldn’t best him, but he couldn’t hold her long enough to retrieve the scroll, either.

Her energy reserves were almost depleted. Feifei had to rid herself of the stranger, and fast. There was one move he would not be able to parry, though using it would considerably weaken the buffer of qi she used to protect her identity. With one eye on the sky and the coming dawn, she dropped into the main courtyard among the overgrown weeds. She had a few moments before the stranger arrived, to prepare her most effective, and most draining, attack: Male Hare Bounds Here and There, a spinning kick delivering a rapid succession of blows, like that of a hare thumping the ground. No one was ever left standing.

Breathing deep, she moved her arms in a series of poses to channel some of the buffer qi she used to disguise her torso into her aching legs. When the stranger landed in the derelict garden, she flew at him with explosive speed, feet a blur of motion.

Instead of being pummelled into the ground, the stranger bent in all directions, a blade of grass in the wind, avoiding every single kick, and finally sliding backwards, out of reach, where he stood staring at her, eyes wide.

She stared back, equally shocked. He’d countered her move with its partner form: Female Hare Narrows Its Eyes. Only Master Sun’s students knew the secrets to executing the two forms.

“Tian dictates a person’s nature and destiny,” the stranger said, delivering the first half of the code couplet with a slow and careful intensity.

Feifei blew out a soft breath. It had been years since her days at Master Sun’s school, but she often thought of her friend Fan Tong. Chubby, clumsy, adorable. They went every where together. Those days of unrestrained freedom, skipping stones on the river, climbing trees, playing hide and seek, were some of her most cherished memories. Could this be him?

But then she recalled the man’s confidence, his manner of speech, his costly robes, and she felt a pang of disappointment. Fan Tong stuttered, had a thick Southern accent, and came from farmer stock.

She reminded herself that meeting a fellow disciple, even if he wasn’t a dear friend, was still a source of joy.

In a hoarse voice she completed the couplet: “But through diligent effort one reaches benevolence.”