Because Guan Yin’s information regarding my parents’ whereabouts was limited by her secret informant, I was only sent to earth every hundred celestial days, or every hundred earth years. My arguments made no difference, truthfully, her caution was well founded. Despite all the training, meditation, and lessons under Lady Fu Hao, I remained stubborn and occasionally impulsive.

  There were too many examples of this. The Battle of Jushi in 67BC or during the Jewish Roman Wars in 66AD. The latter was where I’d rushed headlong into the melee after swearing that I spied my father’s eyes beneath a Roman helm.

  My new teachers were waiting for me when I returned to Guan Yin’s palace. As refined as Fu Hao had been, the Trung sisters were a vastly different and wholly intimidating experience. Trung Trac was the eldest with a reserved and observant demeanor. Trung Nhi’s manner was playful, though no less discerning, and she was never far from her sister’s side. It was the feline artfulness of their movements that made me think they could make easy work of me. Where Fu Hao had been a leopard, these sisters were tigers.

  I knew from my studies that the Trung sisters were from Luoyue and Trac died a queen after rallying the Lac lords against the Han invaders. In a time that much of the world was shifting away from matriarchal lines, they held strong. They trained women and men alike as soldiers and generals, including their own mother.

  When the Lac lords abandoned them, and they were defeated by the Han they drowned themselves rather than risk capture although the Han recorded that they were decapitated, and their severed heads delivered to the regional governor as proof of their deaths. But their deaths didn’t matter to me as much as how they’d lived. They’d stood up against a strong foe and pushed back. Now they were here for me.

  But it didn’t seem like enough time for them to make it through the processing of Diyu. Which made me wonder, how had Guan Yin secured them so quickly and what had she offered them for their cooperation?

  Nhi nudged her sister and smirked as Guan Yin made quick introductions, explaining the daily routine and what I had learned so far. Trac studied me with steely dark eyes. Their skin was a warm, deep copper. Though their eyes raked over me, I found that I wanted them to like me. They were younger than my last Shifu, and I wanted so much to call them friends.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  I made a small salute as Guan Yin departed and left us alone in the gardens. A moment later, Nhi slunk behind me.

  She whispered in my ear. “What’s this really about?”

  “What?”

  “Why do you need training?” Trac asked, glancing around to make sure we were alone. “Why won’t they train you here?”

  “Can’t blame them, can you?” Nhi asked her sister. “She’s too delicate to fight them.”

  My cheeks flushed and I turned on Nhi. My face an inch from hers. “I am not delicate. I’ve seen dozens of battles. Broken bones, concussions, sprains, cuts.” I heard the anger in my voice and tried to calm myself. It was clear that she struck a nerve. “I can fight.”

  Nhi and I glared at each other until her face broke into a wide grin. She shrugged. “Just making sure.”

  “So, why do you need to be trained?” Trac asked.

  “What did Guan Yin tell you?” I asked.

  “Just that you must be able to fight under any circumstance, which leaves a lot to the imagination,” Trac said.

  I held back the truth, fearing the Jade Emperor's discovery would lead to my long imprisonment and my parents' eternal suffering in Diyu. I couldn’t imagine what the repercussions would be for Guan Yin and her servants.

  Nhi began to speak but Trac held up a hand. Her eyes narrowed as she watched my expression.

  “Tell us when you’re ready. I can see that it is not today,” she said, looking around. “Where are the practice grounds? Let’s see what you are made of.”

  I could tell you that it went smoothly, that we bonded together like family but that would be a lie. For three weeks the sisters became my worst enemies, tormenting me at every opportunity. Every day, Nhi woke me before dawn by banging a bronze drum under my window. We ran in varying speed bursts around the gardens and training compounds, then they taught me a form of martial arts they learned from their father.

  “Our father taught us courage, strength, endurance, and sacrifice,” Trac said.

  “And the ability to kill, when necessary,” Nhi interrupted.

  Trac ignored her sister. “This will teach you to overcome someone’s self-defense and, yes, how to kill.”

  “I don’t want to kill,” I said.

  Trac sighed. “Jiang Li, neither does the mother defending her child. Nor the farmer protecting his crops from invaders. Nor the monk protecting his monastery. No one starts out wanting to kill.” She paused, sucking in a breath before demonstrating an aerial kick on Nhi with a swift exhalation. “But sometimes, some people, come to enjoy it. Those are the ones you must watch for in battle. The ones who like to watch others bleed.”

  “And you must know how to kill them,” Nhi added. “Before they kill you.”