"Great Master, as you can see from these reports, Lord Shang Tsung died from massive heart failure caused by lethal disruptions to his solar plexus meridian points.
"While many clans have styles that cause similar trauma, we have identified five specific meridian points that were targeted in this case.
"There is only one technique that would fit the profile of the slaying: the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart technique of the Wuzen Temple."
Ji Sheng, the Magister of Shadows, remained prostrate before the Shadow Throne as he finished delivering his report.
After a long silence, the Shadow Master spoke:
"Summon the Concubine of Shadows."
* * *
Her footsteps echoed through the empty hallways as she strode down the darkened corridor. Dressed in a revealing hanfu of flowing white and blue silk, her bare, curvaceous hips swayed alluringly in rhythm with the staccato beat of her high-heeled boots.
The corridor opened into the throne room, a vast hall bathed in a dim, ghostly light. She strode through the flickering shadows, ignoring the incessant, phantasmal whispers of the wraithly guardians, and stopped ten paces away from the throne. Bending to one knee, she spoke in a low, seductive voice:
"As you have summoned me, Milord, so have I come."
"I have need of your services, Daiji." The Shadow Master intoned. "Shang Tsung has been slain by Wuzen monks. In response, you will go and destroy their chapter monastery in Moyan."
"Milord!" She exclaimed, "Abbot Kong of Moyan is a formidable kung-fu master, and the monastery is guarded by many skilled martial monks. It would take hundreds of warriors to accomplish such a thing, and such an act would surely lead to war with the Righteous Clans!"
"Indeed. I have no wish to war with the Righteous Clans just yet, which is why you shall do this alone." The Shadow Master replied.
"Milord, Shang Tsung was a fool. If the Wuzen monks killed him, then I say good riddance!"
She never even saw him move. One moment the Shadow Master was sitting on his throne, the next he had seized her by the throat and lifted her off the floor. Her feet kicked uselessly as they dangled in the air, her hands clenched convulsively at his unmoveable arm, her eyes bulging as she choked.
"Shang Tsung may be a fool, but he's *my* fool, just as *you* belong to me. Is that understood?"
She nodded frantically, her eyes wild with fear.
As quickly as he had seized her, the Shadow Master released her and returned to his throne. Daiji, the Concubine of Shadows, collapsed on her hands and knees, trying desperately to draw breath.
"Go now," the Shadow Master said, "and leave no one alive."
* * *
Spring rain had given way to summer sun when Fuyun reached the city of Moyan. It had been over a week since he had parted ways with Ziyi and Meiya, and another week's travel would see him to the Wuzen Temple, just in time for the Martial Monk Tournament.
He planned to visit the Kumu Temple here in Moyan. While the Wuzen Temple did not technically have branch chapters, sometimes local temples would invite a Wuzen Master to become their abbot. The Wuzen Master traditionally brought along his own disciples, and those disciples, accomplished martial monks themselves, would recruit students from the local temple. The abbot of Kumu, Master Kong, is one such example. Fuyun planned to rest a few days before resuming his journey. Surely some of the more skilled martial monks of Kumu would wish to attend the Tournament. It would be good to have some camaraderie on the road. That particular train of thought conjured memories of Ziyi's smile and Meiya's laughter. Fuyun ruthlessly quashed it.
Moyan's South Gate was bustling with people seeking to take advantage of the clement weather. Just a short distance past the gates was a market crowded with hawkers and shoppers. Fuyun stopped at a noodle stall to enjoy a steaming bowl of hot noodles mixed with pickled cabbage and sliced bamboo shoots. It was a delicious change from weeks of cold travel rations. The proprietor of the stall, a devout woman who refused to take payment from a monk, gave Fuyun directions to the Kumu Temple. Master Kong was a revered sage in Moyan, she explained, and all monks were highly respected. Fuyun thanked her for her generosity and continued on his way.
The Kumu Temple was magnificently built, grander than even the Wuzen Temple, a testament to its popularity with the people of Moyan. As Fuyun stepped inside its gilded gates, the familiar scent of incense brought him a pang of longing for home. The monk who greeted him widened his eyes at the mention of Wuzen, and deferentially led him to the abbot's abode. Master Kong was sitting in meditation. Fuyun quietly sat down before the old, white-bearded monk, and waited.
***
With slow, deliberate motions, Daiji put the final touches on her makeup. Unlike the other dancers, who applied generous amounts of powder to conceal their flaws, hers was light and subtle, designed to enhance her already flawless skin and accentuate her delicate features.
"Mistress, the Lord Templar Commander is getting impatient."
The obsequious little man who just spoke was the "host" of the Sapphire Rose Garden, which just meant that he was a glorified pimp.
"Understood." Daiji replied simply, and continued working on her makeup without a trace of hurry.
On the surface, the Sapphire Rose was one of three high-class brothels in Moyan, catering to the nobility and the very, very wealthy. In truth, it was a front for local Shadow Sect operations.
Ignoring her underling's nervous fidgeting, Daiji slowly rose to her feet and held out her arms. Her handmaiden stepped forward to drape her shoulders with a diaphanous veil. Finally, she was ready.
The expression of relief on the obsequious little man's face was almost comical. He darted out quickly to announce her imminent appearance.
With confident grace, Daiji walked into the banquet hall where all of Moyan's dignitaries and aristocrats were gathered. Immediately, all conversations ceased, and all eyes turned toward her.
Daiji came to a stop directly in front of Lord Templar Commander Zhao. As the highest ranking noble in Moyan, he occupied the center seat. Beside him sat the Magister of Moyan, the highest functionary of the city.
Daiji briefly met Lord Zhao's gaze, before coyly lowering her eyes. Despite his graying hair, the Lord still looked every inch the fearsome warrior he was reputed to be. She curtsied for him, breathing deeply as she leaned forward. The light fabric draped around her body dipped low, offering a tantalizing view of her curvaceous assets. Watching through her lowered eyes, she saw the fires of lust roaring to life in Lord Zhao's eyes. Though the Magister almost choked on his tea, Daiji paid him no attention.
The music began to play as she rose. Her courtesan dancers fanned out around her. Daiji gracefully spread her arms into the swan pose, her silk shawl hanging from them like wings. With her eyes fixed on Lord Zhao, she began to dance.
***
"Mistress, the Lord Templar Commander has requested a private dance from you."
Daiji smiled. She had not taken her eyes off the Lord for the entire dance, and she had known that he would make this request once the other guests have departed.
"Tell him that I will meet him in the inner garden. Make sure that we are not disturbed."
"Yes, Mistress. It will be as you command."
***
The inner garden of the Sapphire Rose was secluded behind a screen of bamboo forest. Midnight summer breeze made light ripples upon the small pond. Lord Zhao stood alone beside the water, gazing at the reflection of the full moon.
He turned as Daiji entered the garden, his eyes widening at the sight of her. She wore silk robes that billowed out behind her, yet molded tightly to her body. The skirt was parted high enough to bare her curvaceous hips. The folds of the cloth were barely held in place by a blue silk sash that served more to emphasized her slim waist than to keep the robe closed. Her voluptuous breasts threatened to spill out with every breath she took.
