Warning: Mentions of physical violence

Leiyu let his arrow fly.  It zipped through the air with a shrill whistle, stopping only when it pierced the bandit’s heart.  Dusty black robes fluttered as the bandit tumbled off his horse and crashed onto the desert sand.

Through the translucent veil of his weimao hat, Leiyu saw everyone in the distance turn toward him - the multitude of similarly garbed bandits on horseback that stood before the trade caravan they had attacked, and the three cowering merchants whose lives were still hanging in the balance.  A group of slain guards lay in the sand, the first casualties of the marauding horde.  Further back were caravan wagons with horses nervously neighing.  

The wind threw up a beige curtain.  When it died down, three other bandits raised their scimitars and howled like vengeful wolves.  They dug their heels into their horses, spurring them to a full trot.  Sand splayed behind their hooves.

Leiyu reached into his quiver and plucked out three arrows.  He held his bow horizontally and nocked the arrows at different angles.  Then he waited.  He could feel the vibrations through his saddle as the bandits approached.  As they closed in, he released the arrows.  They sliced through the air and struck the bandits down.

A sudden sound sent tingles up Leiyu’s spine.  He pulled out his sword just in time to block an incoming blade.  There was a loud clang, and the force of the blow knocked him off his horse.  He rotated as he fell, and his shins rattled when his boots hit the sand.  He looked up.

In front of the bandit horde was a shrouded man with a bone-pale mask.  Gash-like stripes scrawled across the cheeks, and razor-sharp teeth decorated the painted grin.  His eyes were like bottomless wells.  In his hands was a scythe blade attached to a chain.

So that’s what it was, Leiyu thought as he tightened his grip on his sword’s hilt.  Is he their leader?

“Stranger, you should not have interfered,” the masked man bellowed in Sargeshi, the lingua franca of the trade routes.  He held up the scythe blade.  “Now you must die!”  He threw the talon-like instrument at Leiyu again.

As the weapon hurtled through the air, Leiyu spun out of its way.  He heard a laugh from the masked man and the woosh of another hurled object.  Leiyu quickly swiped his sword while in mid-spin.  Another clang.  He saw a dagger bounce off his blade.  As he landed, his weimao slipped off his head.  He felt the chin cord press against his neck as the hat gathered at his back.

“You’re quite skilled,” the masked man sneered.  He beckoned the other bandits with a wave of his hand and pointed his finger directly at Leiyu. “Attack!”

The mass of bandits surged forward with scimitars drawn.  Their battle cries echoed through the dunes.

Leiyu stood up and plunged the tip of his sword into the sand.  His right hand gripped the hilt while his left one hovered in front of his face.  He held his index and middle fingers up while folding the other three fingers inward.  Closing his eyes, he focused his qi.  Air currents swirled around him, picking up grains of sand.

Closer, closer, and closer still.  The hooves rumbled like muted thunder.  Leiyu’s eyes shot open and the air currents spiraled outward like a whirlwind.  The bandits screamed and their horses whinnied as they were knocked over by the powerful gale.  Leiyu saw the masked man brace himself and struggle to steady his horse.  Further in the distance, he saw the merchants curl up in the sand like panicked pillbugs.

When the whirlwind died down, Leiyu saw the masked man heave his shoulder forward.  Again the scythe blade came hurtling through the air.  He pulled his sword out of the sand and leapt out of the way.  While he glided through the air, he saw the chain straighten as the scythe blade reached as far as it could go.  The masked man tugged the chain, and the scythe blade began its return trip.  As Leiyu descended, he swiped his sword at the chain, and the metal links wrapped around his blade.  When he landed, he pulled sharply.

The masked man was yanked off his horse and landed face-first.  Leiyu kept pulling until the chain slipped out of the masked man’s hands.  He then shook the metal links off his sword, and the scythe blade flopped onto the ground like a dead fish.

Leiyu narrowed his eyes and looked at the masked man.  “Would you like to continue?”

The masked man looked up at him uneasily.  “Who are you?”

Leiyu smiled.  “Just a stranger…passing by…”

The masked man stared at Leiyu for a moment longer.  Then he propped himself up and quickly mounted his horse.  “Retreat!” he shouted to the other bandits.  With a fluttering of long black robes, the horde withdrew, galloping horses kicking up a cloud of sand in their wake.

Not much fight in him, despite that death mask, Leiyu thought.  But perhaps the bandit leader did not want to risk losing more men.  He watched as the bandit horde retreated toward the horizon.  Another gust of hot wind tore through, and his hair danced across his face.  He closed his eyes to keep out the sharp sand grains and reached for the weimao that lay at his back.  Before he was able to place it back on his head, he heard another voice call out in Sargeshi.

“Good sir!”

Leiyu turned and saw the merchants.  They all wore top knots in their raven hair and were clad in dark blue linen robes.  As they approached him, they dropped to their knees and prostrated in a deep kowtow.

“Good sir,” one of the merchants said while facing downward.  “Please accept our deepest thanks for saving our humble lives.”

Leiyu nodded in acknowledgment.  “It is no trouble at all.”

“We owe you a debt of gratitude,” the merchant continued.  “How can we repay you?”

Leiyu looked upon the prostrating merchants and thought for a moment.  To save the lives of those in need was already a reward in itself.  However, he also knew that social custom dictated that a good deed could not be left unpaid.  These merchants would probably keep hounding him until they could return the favor.  He finally asked, “Where are you headed?”

The merchant looked up at him.  “The Kingdom of Ishkhandar in the Western Region.  We are delivering a shipment of silk and porcelain to their royal palace.”

The young man’s eyebrows perked up.  Royal palace?  That sounded exciting.  Perhaps this was a good opportunity.  He replied, “Then allow me to accompany you and protect your caravan from other bandits.  I am headed westward myself, so your guiding me there will be payment enough.”

The merchant bowed his head again.  “Thank you, good sir, for your generosity.  Those bandits slayed all our guards, so we definitely need the protection.”  He rose to his feet.  “May I know your honored name?”

“Leiyu.”

The merchant raised his eyebrows.  “Leiyu?  An interesting name.  Are you from the Eastern Region?”

“I am.”

The merchant switched to Dongyu, the native language of the Eastern Region.  “Which ‘lei’ and which ‘yu’?”

Leiyu smiled.  This was a common thing to ask in the Eastern Region since characters with the same sound meant different things depending on their tone and context.  He held out his finger as if drawing in the air and replied in his native language.  “‘Lei’ as in thunder, ‘yu’ as in rain.”

“Thunderstorm?” the merchant remarked.  He turned to his fellow travel companions and they shared puzzled looks.  

Leiyu was not surprised.  Although there were no set names in Dongyu, and parents could name their children however they wanted, within reason, ‘thunderstorm’ was not a common moniker.  Nor was it particularly auspicious.  The naming of a newborn was not something to be taken lightly, and fortune tellers were generally consulted to give the child the best start in life.  

“May I also know your family name?” the merchant asked.

Leiyu paused.  Then he responded, “I have no family name.”

The merchants gasped.  

This also did not surprise Leiyu.  In the Eastern Region, family was everything.  Even if a person was adopted, they would take the family name of their caretakers.  To have no family name meant that you were either cast out or that you willingly cut ties with the people who raised you.  Both were considered shameful.

To have no family name meant that you would not be recorded in any ancestral scrolls.  You would not have a spirit tablet at a family altar and no one would give you offerings of incense and fruit to nourish you in the afterlife.  It meant that you would be alone in the world during life and thereafter, adrift like a leaf that had been blown away from the tall and mighty tree.  It was not something to be proud of, at least for most people from the Eastern Region.

”I see,” the merchant replied cautiously.  “My name is Chen Yun.  ‘Chen’ as in morning, ‘Yun’ as in cloud.”  He paused, as if waiting for Leiyu to react.

Leiyu was not sure whether he should find ‘morning cloud’ to be an amusing name or not, so he kept his default emotionless face.

“I can introduce you to the others,” Chen Yun continued.  He stepped toward his companions and motioned to them.  “This is Liang Fusheng and Wang Yihui.”

Leiyu nodded politely in quiet acknowledgement.  He thought Liang Fusheng had a bit of a haughty look about him, while Wang Yihui looked like a frightened rabbit.

“So,” Liang Fusheng said as he looked around.  “How shall we handle the dead?”  The slain guards and bandits were already half buried in the sand since the winds were so relentless.

“For the guards, we can offer blessings to ease their passing into the next life,” Chen Yun said.  “For the bandits…” He paused and his voice turned colder, “let them rot.”

Chen Yun went into one of the caravan wagons.  Leiyu could hear him rummaging around before he emerged with a few white linen sheets.  “We don’t have much, but this will do for funeral rites.”  

Chen Yun walked over to the slain guards and draped a sheet over each body.  He then walked to the side, dropped to his knees, and clasped his hands together.  “Goddess of Water, please watch over these men who gave their lives to protect us.  Guide their spirits back to their families so they do not become wandering ghosts seeking eternal vengeance for their untimely deaths.”

The merchants bowed their heads in respect and had a moment of silence.  The wind continued to whistle.  Leiyu watched them from the periphery.  His gaze went from the shrouded guards to the slain bandits with arrows protruding from their chests.  He closed his eyes.

Once the wind died down, Chen Yun turned towards the others.  “Let us depart.”

Leiyu walked back to his horse and mounted it.  He placed his weimao back on his head and tightened the chin cord.  Nudging his horse, he rode up to the caravan wagon where Chen Yun sat.

Chen Yun turned to Leiyu.  “If you don’t mind my asking, what is your reason for journeying out here by yourself?  The desert is vast, and it is hard to survive alone.”

Leiyu looked at the horizon.  “I am on a soul journey.”

The merchant’s eyebrows perked up.  “Oh?  I’ve heard of those before, but never met anyone who was actually in embarking on one.”

Leiyu nodded.  “My late shifu went on one himself when he was young.  He said he met other wanderers during his travels through the Four Regions.”

“Ah, so you are following in the footsteps of your shifu?”

Leiyu smiled.  “To some extent.  But even before I knew that he went on one, I wanted to see more of the world.  Also, I’ve always had this strange restless feeling.” He took a deep breath.  “It’s like something out there…or someone…is calling to me and I have to find out why…”