Jade Fire Gold(72)

“Altan says we need the sword to stop a war.”

Ama studies my face, eyes shrewd. “Do you trust him?”

“Altan?” Good question. I play with my jade ring, thinking. “I haven’t known him for long. At first, I thought he was just some mercenary paid to get me out of the palace dungeons, but he doesn’t seem like a petty criminal. I get the feeling that there’s more to him than he lets on. He’s educated, well-spoken, and kind, and he carries himself with this air—” I pause as Ama starts to smile, suddenly embarrassed. “He’s also arrogant and full of himself,” I finish harshly.

“But that doesn’t answer my question. Master Sun says Altan will accompany you on the sea voyage to find the sword, and he has told the boy to protect you.”

Altan never mentioned that, and he never said how his shīfù was involved in this entire thing. I’m not sure if I believe it, but it would ease Ama’s mind to think that someone is watching out for me, so I don’t contradict her.

Someone knocks on the door before I can reply.

“Ah, it must be time for my treatment,” says Ama, expectant.

“Treatment?”

“Master Sun is the reason why I recovered and am well now. But my malaise lingers, and I need some help now and then.”

I open the door and sure enough Master Sun is outside. He enters and checks Ama’s pulse.

“What are you doing?” I ask, alarmed by the two long, thin silver needles he pulls from his sleeve.

“With the correct placement, these needles can control the meridians in a person’s body. Your grandmother is much better, but her qì needs to be stabilized to prevent a relapse of her illness,” he replies, sticking the needles into the side of Ama’s neck with learned decisiveness. She doesn’t show any discomfort.

“Does it hurt?” I ask, worried.

“Just a pinch like an ant’s bite. Nothing more.” Ama chuckles. I can tell she trusts Master Sun implicitly.

He checks Ama’s pulse again. “She needs some rest. Perhaps, you will join me in a cup of tea?”

His invitation is warm and I’m more than a little curious about Altan’s mentor. Leaving Ama in the room, I follow him down to the dining area of the tavern.

It’s late afternoon and the tavern is filling up with patrons, the sound of chatter and gossip growing more boisterous by the minute. I pause, wondering if it’s a good idea for me to be out in the open so blatantly. My earlier spontaneity of going into town to get mooncakes for Altan, despite my disguise, feels reckless and foolish in light of everything that is happening and what my father is doing. That anxious feeling in my stomach returns. I can’t help but feel that my father is always one step ahead of us somehow, and I can only hope that we can stop whatever he’s planning before it’s too late.

Master Luo’s daughter spots us and quickly ushers us into a smaller room. There is only one table in the middle, a large one that can sit ten. This must be a private dining area.

“This is better,” says Luo Ying. This is safer, is what I hear. “I’ll bring tea and some snacks.”

“You’re busy, I’ll get it,” I offer.

She smiles with gratitude and leads me to the kitchen. “Father says Master Sun is particular about his tea. Make sure you steep it right to keep the flavor.”

I listen carefully as she instructs me and return to the room with a tray laden with hot water, cups, tea leaves, and some roasted peanuts and sunflower seeds. Master Sun watches as I prepare the tea. It’s like I’m taking a test and he’s a teacher hovering over my shoulder, waiting for me to write my answer down so he can determine if I pass or fail.

I count the time down to the exact second before lifting the lid of the porcelain gàiw?n, nervously peeking in to make sure the tea is the correct shade of yellow-green that Luo Ying described. Then, I place the cup in front of Master Sun. He takes a tentative sip. Squirming in my seat, I wait for his assessment.

It doesn’t come. I must’ve failed.

“I used to work at an inn, but the stingy innkeeper instructed us to water everything down to save costs,” I say, trying my best not to sound overly defensive. “I’m sorry if the tea was brewed without precision, I’ve never handled jasmine green tea before.”

“Why are you apologizing? I have meted out no criticism,” says Master Sun, eyes twinkling.

“Nor praise,” I counter.

My cheekiness draws a hearty laugh from him. “The tea is not bad—for a first-timer.”

“Maybe you can teach me more about tea if the sword-hunting thing doesn’t work out. At least I’ll have a new skill and I could work in a teahouse.” That makes him laugh more and I decide that I like this old sage. “Are you a Tiensai?”

He nods, helping himself to more sunflower seeds.

“But you’re not a mercenary like Altan, right? You don’t seem like you need the money.”

He takes my bluntness in stride, more amused than anything. “Altan has his own way of handling things when it comes to the matter of the sword—and you. I am merely assisting him.”

And me? It’s an odd and evasive answer, but I assume he’s referring to Altan and Leiye’s arrangement.

I lower my head respectfully. “I’m grateful for your help, Master Sun. Thank you again for healing my grandmother. Speaking of Altan, where is he?”