The journey to Redwood Cliff could have been long, tedious, and plagued with silence. Dressed in silk Taoist robes and armed only with religious articles, Li Kung and Pun walked slightly behind their barbarian friend at all times.

  Yet, Pun chattered endlessly along the way about how difficult it was to borrow the Taoist robes from Old Three, who refused to loan his old clothes because he was not invited to join. When they approached He Ku, Pun tugged on Li Kung’s sleeves. “Do you smell something different?”

  “Smell?’

  Pun giggled. “He took a bath this morning.”

  She laughed and danced around the Mongolian for a second. By late morning, the three entered the gates of He Ku.

  The streets of He Ku were full and alive like the day before. Articles of mourning still hung on every storefront, but no one seemed to be mourning. Children laughed and played, running about while their parents shopped at the busy marketplace. Vendors yelled at the top of their lungs to attract attention to their products, carriages bustled about the streets, carrying the wealthy citizens around the city.

  At noon, they stopped by an inn to eat, with plans to reach Redwood Cliff by early evening. Seeing the Taoist garbs and anticipating a vegetarian fast for a ceremony, the innkeeper came by to offer the vegetarian dishes of the house.

  “A gourd of wine, two goat legs and a baked chicken,” Sochai said without hesitating.

  The innkeeper stared for a second, unsure of what to say, then muttering to himself, returned to the kitchen.

  “Will someone find me an empty seat?”

  All eyes turned to a blind man standing by the door, his long walking-staff extending into the inn. The waiter quickly ran to his side.

  “This way please, Mr. Fan. We have an empty seat right here.”

  A fat woman clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, Mr. Fan is here! What story are you going to tell today, Mr. Fan?”

  The blind man ignored her and seated himself. “The usual,” he said to the waiter. Another waiter had already brought him food and wine.

  “Ah, the smell of sorghum wine!” He lifted the cup to his lips and breathed in the aroma. “Such good wine on a fine day.”

  Out of nowhere, the inn became crowded. People trickled in from the street and seated themselves to hear Mr. Fan’s story. Those who couldn’t find seats stood in the back against the wall. They waited patiently for Mr. Fan to finish his wine; crowds of children sat on the floor in front of the blind man while the waiters hustled to serve everyone at once.

  “A story!” Pun said. “I haven’t heard a good story in a long time.”

  “I’ve told this story many times before,” the blind man began, his arms waving dramatically. “But today is such a fine day, and I should tell it again. I will tell a story about Snow Wolf.”

  Li Kung stopped eating. The entire room was cheering and applauding. Snow Wolf’s name was well known in the North. He had seen paintings of her, sculptures carved in her image. He had heard that she saved the lives of thousands, and for many years, she protected the region from invasion, from bandits, from corruption and rebellion. He had seen people worship her, speak of her teachings, pray to her for blessings.

  The blind man held up his hand to quiet the audience. “All of you have heard of the great Snow Wolf,” he continued, his voice exaggerated. “But not many of you know about the time she single-handedly fought off the pirates from the East. Known as Lady Wu when she was young—few people now know her as Lady Wu—Snow Wolf was barely forty then. The pirates who came from the Eastern oceans were short; they set their hair like a wet towel and wore sandals on their feet instead of shoes. Their language was strange. Every word sounded like they were barking at someone. Nevertheless, they were feared—yes, they were feared. When their ships were seen on the horizon, fishermen rushed through as many villages as they could, screaming at the top of their lungs: “The pirates are here! The pirates are here!”

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  Mr. Fan’s voice raised in volume. The children’s eyes widened. “And the pirates would come into the villages, and rape and plunder everything they could, and by the time any government troops could arrive, they were safely back at sea. No one could stop them. No one, except Snow Wolf.

  “When Snow Wolf first arrived at the coastal towns, the pirates had just left. Villages were burned, women were raped and beaten, men who tried to resist were slaughtered. The pirates stole all the grain they could find, and this time, they killed twenty government officers and promised to be back in seven days to collect a sum of gold—or else more people would die.

  “The provincial government sent hundreds of troops to the border in response. The young commander of this little army was proud and over-confident, but inexperienced. He deployed his men on a hill facing the ocean and waited for the pirates. He thought that when the pirates charged up the beach, his troops would blare down on them and be victorious because of their sheer numbers. The hill they camped on was full of dense foliage, with tall trees at the top. Scouts were placed high in these trees to watch for the pirates.”

  Mr. Fan’s voice became more intense. “The troops scattered themselves in the thick bushes and waited and waited. Soon they were running around playing shooting games, because day after day the pirates, numbering no more than a hundred, did not come. But Snow Wolf warned the commander that the pirates were near, and they were watching, waiting for them to relax. Snow Wolf told the soldiers that they must change their positions at once, because even though they had the advantage of numbers, they were in plain view. They didn’t have the advantage of surprise.

  The commander would not listen to such wisdom. He was foolish! And that brought about his destruction.

  “Snow Wolf knew then that defeat was imminent, and she returned to the bordering villages and organized the people. She found fifty men, strong and willing to stand up and fight the enemy. She recruited thirty women and asked them to lace several carriages and chests with silk.

  “Meanwhile, the pirates left their ships far from view and approached at night by rowboat. They quietly circled to the back of the hill and gathered behind the government troops. The men were sound asleep, with the exception of the few scouts looking out at the ocean—but little did they know the pirates were already behind them! Then the slaughter began. The pirates climbed up the back of the hill and silently came down the front. They killed every single government troop on the hill. No one was spared. After the massacre, they anchored their boats offshore and marched toward the villages. It was right before dawn.”

  A look of horror gripped every face in the audience. Mr. Fan’s gestures became even more dramatic. “And they marched. They saw a group of women and a few old men pushing carriages into a small road by the forest. The boxes on the carriages were laced with fine silk, a sure sign of wealth. Seeing the women and what they thought was their gold, they pursued. The women quickly disappeared into the forest, and the old villagers ran the opposite direction. The pirates chased, the foliage thick. They heard the sounds of the women again and again but could not see them. They pursued and ran deeper and deeper into the forest.

  “Meanwhile, Snow Wolf brought ten men and rowed into the hazy waters. They quietly boarded the pirate ship, killed the few pirates left on board, and burned everything before rushing back into the forest.

  “The pirates on land eventually came upon the wooden chests, abandoned deep in the forest. The women were nowhere to be seen. Thinking the villagers were scared away, the pirates pried open the boxes—only to find them completely empty. Now they knew they fell into a trap! The leader gathered all his men and rushed back to the beach. And what did they find at the beach? Their ships burning, of course! They could not believe it! They thought they killed all the government troops. Didn’t their scouts report that there were no more? Who could have done this?

  “At the gray of dusk, they saw torches everywhere, surrounding them. There were thousands of them dancing on a hill. Light from the torches swarmed the land like flies on a dead deer, and war drums were beating. Seeing an opening on the left side of the hill, the pirates ran for their lives. And the torches? Not troops, my children, but villagers, led by Snow Wolf. All the villagers were there: the women, the children, all of them. They each held two torches to create the effect of massive numbers. The pirates could do nothing but flee, only to discover that there was no way home. Their ships were burning.”

  The blind man paused, his voice slower and deeper against the deafening silence. “So that was how Snow Wolf chased away the pirates that harassed the Eastern coast for so many years. She used villagers—civilians consisting of women and children—instead of trained warriors. She defeated the fearsome pirates without the loss of a single innocent life. She heard about the suffering of the common people, and she answered.”

  The audience stood up to applause. Mr. Fan produced a tin bowl from his coat and placed it on the table. One by one, the people in the inn stepped forward and placed a coin in his bowl. Fan bowed and thanked them.

  Pun also came forward to pitch her coin. “Mr. Fan,” she said, “so where’s Snow Wolf now?”

  Everyone stared. The blind man smiled. “Young lady, you’re not from around here, are you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, fifty years ago, Snow Wolf ascended the heavens and became a goddess. She’s watching over us now, much like how she watched over us before. She’s up there, and if you pray to her, she will answer.”

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