Tiger Read Online Free PDF Page B

replied.
    “I hate you!”
    “I know.”

F u lay on his stomach, his arms and legs wrapped tightly around a thick tree limb. He stared down at the Cangzhen compound. Every single building was burning. Fu strained his keen eyes, searching for movement in the smoky moonlight.
    Way back in the far-left corner of the compound, small groups of soldiers walked from the weapons shed to the sleeping quarters.
That's where they are,
Fu thought.
But what are they up to?
There were weapons to steal in the shed, but there certainly wasn't anything worth taking in the sleeping quarters.
    Then Fu remembered the secret escape tunnel. It stretched underground from the sleeping quarters to beyond the back wall of the compound. It was riggedwith numerous traps to stop an enemy from trying to sneak through it. Ying must have disabled the devices. He was one of the few people who knew how. Fu could picture Ying disarming the crossbows armed with poison arrows and unhooking the swinging pendulum blades as his men followed.
    Fu growled. He decided that if he couldn't defeat Ying directly, he would hurt him indirectly. Since the soldiers appeared to be leaving through the tunnel, they probably already had the dragon scrolls. Fu decided to retrieve them, no matter what the cost.
    Fu leaped down from the tree limb and landed in a silent roll at the forest's edge. Then he ran low to the ground across the grassy expanse back toward Cangzhen's main gate. He made it through the gate without seeing anyone and headed for the bathhouse, which was on the left side of the compound, not too far from the weapons shed. He had seen something there that gave him an idea.
    Fu reached the bathhouse undetected and cautiously approached a fallen soldier he'd noticed when he'd run by with his brothers earlier. The soldier was heavyset and about the same size he was. Fu's hand quivered as he reached down to take the man's helmet. He had never been this close to a dead person before. Fu looked away as he laid his hands on the helmet and caught a glimpse of his fallen brother Sing. Sing was an older brother and had taught Fu how to use edged weapons. He was the kindest teacher Fu had ever had.
    The dead soldier would have to wait. Fu stood up and headed for Sing.
    Sing lay with his favorite pair of tiger hook swords still in his hands. Fu felt tears of hatred and grief well up in his eyes, but he did not let them fall. Instead of crying, he would do something. In life, those tiger hook swords had meant everything to Sing. They were an extension of his body as well as his soul. Fu would honor Sing's spirit by keeping the spirit of his weapons alive. He took the paired swords from his brother's cold hands.
    Fu inspected the weapons quickly as he walked back to the dead soldier. Except for some fresh bloodstains on the silk handle wraps, the tiger hook swords were in perfect shape. Both sides of the long, straight, double-edged swords were razor-sharp, and the large hook on the end of each sword resembling a tiger's claw showed no signs of fatigue. The crescent-shaped hand-guard daggers were also still sharp, as were the single daggers that protruded from the bottom of each sword's handle. Sing's tiger hook swords were perfectly weighted and felt powerful in Fu's hands. Fu laid the swords next to the soldier and got to work.
    Fu removed the soldier's helmet, then his heavy, flexible armor. Fu was slipping off the man's boots when someone suddenly spoke behind him.
    “What are you doing?”
    Fu spun around and saw an average-size man. The man looked to be nearly thirty years old and hadan extraordinarily long ponytail tied in a thick braid. He appeared to be wearing the uniform of the new Emperor, but Fu couldn't be sure in the smoky blackness. The soldier, however, saw that Fu was wearing an orange robe.
    “Where have you been hiding, young monk?” the soldier asked in a calm, deep voice.
    Fu responded by picking up the tiger hook swords.
    “Put the weapons down,