That's funny, Malao thought. Seh doesn't look too concerned about staying hidden. Why should I sit in a tree while he and Fu get to look around? I have something important I'd like to check out, too. And it shouldn't take long to find it. I could probably take a look and be back in the tree long before those two return.
After making sure Seh was out of sight, Malao raced around the Pagoda Forest scanning only the smallest monuments. There were nearly two hundred pagodas in the forest, but it didn't take him long to search just the small ones. Unfortunately, he didn't find what he was looking for—the pagoda dedicated to the boy who fell into the soup. Malao began to wonder if there was another group of pagodas somewhere nearby. Or perhaps the boy's memorial was placed off to the side, away from the grown-ups’? Malao scampered into the surrounding tree line.
About twenty paces in, Malao came to a small clearing bordered on three sides by a wall of thick vegetation. A heavy patchwork of vines hung from the treetops all the way to the ground. The snarled mess appeared to stretch well into the bowels of the forest.
From the edge of the tangle came a calm, smooth voice.
“Hello, little one.”
Malao jumped. He looked up and saw a slender bald man in an orange monk's robe lying sprawled along a large branch high off the ground. The monk appeared to be about thirty years old and seemed very comfortable up there. One arm and one leg dangled lazily in midair.
“Who are you?” Malao asked.
“Who am I?” the monk purred. “I believe the question is, who are you? And, maybe more importantly, who is the tall one in blue?”
“He's my brother,” Malao said. “We're monks from Cangzhen Temple.”
The monk's bushy black eyebrows raised up. “Cangzhen? You're so … young. What are you doing here?”
“Our temple was destroyed and we need help,” Malao said. “But it doesn't look like there's anyone left here who could help us. Well, except for you, I guess. What happened?”
“Two days ago Shaolin was attacked by soldiers,” the monk replied. “Soldiers with qiangs. Thousands of soldiers fell in the battle, along with every single warrior monk. I am all that is left.”
Malao felt his heart sink. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Why, the Emperor, of course. He's the only one with enough power to accomplish such a feat. He didn't do it alone, though. He had help.”
“What kind of help?” Malao asked. “Was Shaolin betrayed by a traitor?”
“A traitor?” the monk said. “I guess some people might call him that. He's been called worse.”
Malao sighed. “Our temple was betrayed by a traitor. My former brother, Ying, returned and snuck soldiers into our compound. Those soldiers had qiangs, too. More than one hundred monks died.”
“Really?” the monk said, scratching the side of his face. “That's a shame. It sounds like Cangzhen suffered the same fate as Shaolin. Except Shaolin's losses were far greater. There were more than one thousand monks here and, like I said, I am all that is left. How many escaped the attack on Cangzhen?”
“Fi—”
“Don't answer that question,” Seh interrupted as he slipped into the clearing.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Malao asked. “Where's Fu?”
“He's back at the compound.” Seh stared up at the monk in the tree. “Who are you? Tell me your name. Now.”
The monk yawned and blinked several times. “Didn't they teach you any manners at Cangzhen?”
“Answer the question,” Seh said.
“Very well.” The monk sat up on the tree limb and leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs. “Most people call me Tsung. Welcome to Shaolin.”
Seh's eyes narrowed to slits. “Your name is Monk? What kind of name is that?”
Tsung cocked his head to one side and smirked. “Mandarin. Why?”
“I'm not in the mood for jokes,” Seh said. “Why would people call you Monk?”
“Because I am one,” Tsung said. “Do you find it surprising that you should find a man called Monk at a temple?”
“Don't play games with me,” Seh said. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don't know what you mean,” Tsung replied. “What were you expecting, a Cantonese animal name, perhaps? I'm from Shaolin, young man. Only Cangzhen monks have Cantonese animal names.” He paused. “Well, only certain Cangzhen monks. Ones with a certain, shall we say, history. But you already know that, don't you? I'm sure Mong told you all about it.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Seh said.