A Pot of Tea

Qingqing watched as the terrapin spirit slowly made his way towards the corner where Suzhen sat. He trailed behind a waiter, slinking behind a pillar and keeping himself in the shadows.

Suzhen never once looked in his direction, but her eyes flickered discreetly sideways and Qingqing knew she was urging her to be on her guard.

"Pathetic," sneered Qingqing under her breath. "Only blockheads like Yuanzheng and Xuxian wouldn't notice him. Let's see what he has up his sleeve."

The pockmarked waiter hurried over as Xuxian beckoned to him. "A refill for our teapot, please."

Stealing glances at Suzhen, the young waiter took the teapot and shuffled off.

Qingqing jerked to attention as she saw the terrapin spirit disappear, then emerge again on the tail of the waiter.

"What is this idiot doing?" she muttered vexedly, getting up from her table and weaving her way quickly through the crowd, straining to keep him in sight.

Fahai's head turned abruptly as a woman in a pink hood passed by his table at a rapid pace. He watched her retreating back keenly, feeling his amulet with a frown and trying to discern how strong her spirit energy aura was. So that was one. And there was more than one of them here. Could this be a coincidence? Were they planning something evil, to harm all the innocent people gathered here? He looked at the children playing, the baby in his parents' arms, and folded his lips grimly. No one would get hurt, he swore to himself.

Qingqing felt panic rising in her as she lost sight of the terrapin spirit. She saw the top of the pockmarked waiter's hat bobbing across the room and made her way determinedly towards it. Pushing rudely past an old woman whose daughter cast her indignant glances, Qingqing caught sight of the waiter standing in the threshold of the kitchen, putting down the teapot and turning to pick up the kettle of hot water carefully from the coals. In a moment a hand slipped out from the shadows and flung something inside the open teapot.

The waiter turned back to the teapot, oblivious, and carefully poured the boiling water in. He picked up the teapot and stepped out of the kitchen.

Qingqing stifled a gasp. "You cunning bastard," she whispered savagely, and hurried after him.

Abandoning the terrapin spirit, she turned her attention completely onto the waiter. She had to stop him at all costs.

He was approaching their table, and she was still ten paces away, when a figure suddenly rose from a table on her left, and stepped in front of her.

"Pardon me, maiden, but you seem to be in a great hurry."

Qingqing looked up with a rude retort ready on her lips, only to stop short as she saw a tall monk towering before her in faded saffron robes, a terrible intensity in his gaze despite the calmness of his expression. His shaved head and chiseled, impassive features made him look like a statue one might find in a deserted cave, hundreds of years old.

She shrank backwards instinctively feeling a stab of panic. What was a monk doing here? She could sense that he was no phoney quack either; his cultivation was high, as she could tell from his aura. Her eyes glanced at the travel-stained bundle on the ground. A travelling monk, then. They darted just as quickly at him, noting the tattered amulet and the worn wooden beads around his neck with a shudder.

She restrained the impulse to turn and run, and kept a careful distance between them. Pulling her cloak closer to herself, she bowed demurely with downcast eyes. "A young and foolish maiden like myself is honoured to have a reverend monk address me personally. May I know what the honoured sir wants from me?" she said shyly, imitating the air of a well-bred city girl.

Fahai bowed slightly. His eyes travelled coolly over her. It was hard to believe she was an animal spirit. She looked like any pretty gentlewoman on the street, an official's young daughter or the young wife of a rich merchant. But he had long steeled himself against the deceptiveness of appearances. No matter how young, how pretty, how innocent she looked, the amulet was never wrong. He touched his amulet for reassurance. "I would not dare. But this old man fancies he might have seen you before." he said courteously. If he could get a name, or any bit of information, he could track her down later. But more importantly, he wanted to see her reaction at seeing him. She had hidden her fear well, after the first moment it had glinted in her eyes when she looked up at him; vanishing almost immediately as she swiftly dropped her gaze, so that it seemed like he had been dreaming. But it had been there, nonetheless.

Qingqing stole an anguished glance at the waiter's back. "Ah, that must be impossible, sir. I am only a young girl, not worth any notice, of an insignificant family. I would surely remember if I had the privilege of meeting sir before."

She bowed lowly and darted past him, her heart in her mouth, before Fahai could answer. Part of her could not wait to get away from him, part of her was in agony that she was going to be too late, and part of her was anxious that she might have aroused the monk's suspicion with her hasty exit. But there was no time for that now.

"Here you are, sir, your tea as requested."

The waiter had stopped at their table, and Xiaohu clapped his hands gleefully. "Goody, the refill is here. Another round of hot tea!"

Qingqing dashed forward as the waiter held out the teapot to Yuanzheng's waiting hands. She just managed to bite back a warning, remembering in time that they could not know what was going on, and instead gave the waiter a good kick in the back of his knees.

The waiter staggered and fell forward with a startled cry, and the teapot hurtled into the air.