Tonglong adjusted his long ponytail braid over his shoulder and watched the recovery operation. In all, he had roughly one hundred soldiers in his charge, plus a handful of individuals who had worked as employees of the fight club. The men varied in age, but most of his soldiers were young, age sixteen or seventeen. This was typical. At twenty-nine, Tonglong was considered an old-timer. His men looked up to him, which was a far cry from how they had felt about their former leader, Ying.
Foolish, arrogant boy, Tonglong thought with a smile. Ying had been in a unique position. He had entered the fight clubs at age fifteen and been crowned champion before he'd turned sixteen. Also, Ying was from this region and therefore eligible to serve the Emperor by leading a small army.
Tonglong was nearly twice as old as Ying, and he was a former Fight Club Grand Champion, too. However, Tonglong had never been allowed to lead a large force. He was from a region in the south of China, and the Emperor, a northerner, considered him a foreigner.
Tonglong yearned to become a general, and he had realized that if he could get close to Ying, he might have a chance at realizing his goal. If he could position himself as Ying's right-hand man and then arrange a situation in which Ying would fail the Emperor, the Emperor might just give Tonglong Ying's troops. And that's exactly what happened.
The men now under Tonglong's charge weren't very skilled, but they were loyal. Tonglong was doing what he could to whip them into shape quickly, and they seemed to embrace his rigorous training. To them, anything was better than Ying's constant selfish demands. Ying was clever, but he was too consumed with revenge to see beyond his immediate target. He would have sacrificed every one of his soldiers to accomplish his goals, and his men knew it. They hated Ying for it.
What a waste of talent, Tonglong thought. Ying was now an enemy, and he would not live to see his seventeenth birthday. Tonglong would see to that personally.
In the meantime, Tonglong would continue with the next phase of his plan—getting close to the Emperor. This was coming along nicely, thanks to his mother's charms. There was also the matter of the dragon scroll map that the children from Cangzhen possessed. If the legends were true, its secret would allow Tonglong to rise to power far sooner than he could ever have imagined. In many ways, finding the children was more critical than finding Ying.
Tonglong frowned. In the past, he had made the mistake of allowing the children to gain possession of several dragon kung fu training scrolls. He had done this to keep the scrolls out of Ying's hands. Unfortunately, Tonglong had incorrectly assumed that he could find the children and take the scrolls back at a moment's notice. He would never underestimate those children again.
Tonglong wiped his sweaty brow and scanned the soldiers in the pit arena below. They needed to find something soon, before the trail grew too cold. He glanced over at the remnants of the large wooden door that had separated the pit arena from the main tunnel. This was the last place he'd seen Ying and the children. All that was left was a gaping black hole in the pit-arena wall. Soldiers should be coming back out of it anytime now with updated intelligence.
“General Tonglong!” a voice called from the pit. “Over here, sir, if you please.”
Tonglong stared down his nose at one of the fight-club employees, a young man called GumLong, or Golden Dragon in Cantonese. Golden Dragon was the fight club owner's number one assistant, and he was making quite a name for himself fighting in the pit arenas. Not since Ying had someone caused such a commotion. Rumor had it that he was only fifteen years old, as Ying had been.
“What is it, Golden Dragon?” Tonglong asked.
“I've found something, sir,” Golden Dragon replied. “I believe it is the remains of LaoShu, the fight club owner.”
Tonglong noted the boy's steady voice. He didn't seem the least bit shaken by what he was looking at. Most people would be horrified if they'd uncovered any sort of human remains, let alone their boss's.
Tonglong leaned over the pit, eyeing Golden Dragon carefully. Regardless of the boy's age, he acted like a grown man. He was mature, wise, and well mannered. He reminded Tonglong of himself.
Golden Dragon swept aside a layer of wet soot and lifted something from the muck. Tonglong saw a charred human hand. A gaudy gold ring was fused to one finger, and atop the ring sat a large jade rat. The ring was so large, Tonglong could easily see it from where he stood.
Tonglong nodded. “LaoShu, indeed. Well done.”
Golden Dragon nodded back, then turned to the pit entrance tunnel.
Tonglong looked down at the huge doorway and saw one of his soldiers step through it, along with one of the fight club employees. Between them was a prisoner. The prisoner's wrists and ankles were bound with short lengths of rope, but it was obvious they weren't necessary. The man could barely hold himself up. His face and robes were black with soot, and his sallow skin hung from his cheeks like dry parchment. He moaned, “Water, please … ”