Xuelei, Tears of Blood

Chapter 1 - Twin Bronze Dragon Teahouse

The Twin Bronze Dragon teahouse and hotel was bustling as usual. It was popular with the locals as well as those passing by. The food was good, the help polite and efficient. Lodgings were affordable and clean but the main attraction was the old story-teller.

The old man would come in every afternoon and smoke his pipe while the crowd decided what story they wanted to hear. The story that got the most votes would be told. Sometimes, he would announce that he had a new story, there would be no voting then. Everyone would be eager to hear the new one as his stories were always exciting.

The old man would smoke his pipe and take a sip of his hot fragrant tea, building up the anticipation. When he set down his teacup, everyone would lean forward. The clink of the porcelain teacup upon it's saucer signalled the beginning of the day's story-telling.

He would use dramatic words, his tone of voice varied accordingly. He would shout out the exciting parts and whisper at sad or scary moments, his expressions changing with the scenes. His hands would gesture to emphasis a point and play with props to encourage his listener's imaginations. He was very good and could keep his listeners rapt with attention. Some stories went on for days, the sagas of mighty heroes cannot be expected to be told in one sitting. He ended with cliff-hangers and kept the customers coming back for more.

The Mistress especially liked those, it brought the customers back to hear what happened next, sometimes for a few consecutive days. To sit in the teahouse for the stories, the customers were obliged to order something, even a small pot of tea would suffice. It was business.

She walked around, nodding to her regular customers, welcoming new faces. Another full house, the crafty old man had ended yesterday's segment with a cliff-hanger. This evening's segment would reveal if the hero would die or miraculously escape from the evil warlord's dungeon. The diners had eaten earlier, now it was story time. After that it would be dinner time. It would be another profitable day.

She nodded to the manager and left the dining area, making her way to her study. Her office, she shared with her brother, also known as the 'old story teller' when in disguise. The siblings had been running the business for over ten years now. They had started small and had built up its reputation over the years.

The teahouse and hotel's business was good. Satisfied, she turned her attention to the 'other' business, her real passion. She moved aside a drape depicting a picture of flowering peach blossom trees. Quickly she unlocked a hidden door behind it and went in, carefully locking it after stepping through.

She entered a large room and went to her side of the table. Unlocking a small chest, she took out the recent requests and her ledger book, the Book of Contracts. Her fingers traced the thick leather bound book. This book held all the Contracts their secret Assassin's Sect had done. All the murders, thefts, rescues... everything that needed their special services and it paid well too.

The teahouse was decorated with beautiful pieces of art. Paintings, porcelain pieces and bronze art were displayed tastefully throughout the establishment. It created a peaceful and relaxing atmosphere. Of all the pieces, the exquisite twin bronze dragons were the ones which received the most attention and praise.

The dragons were beautiful pieces of art. Almost all the teahouse's patrons would pat or rub them at one time or another, unable to resist touching the magnificent beasts. This practice was perfect as it allowed discreet requests to be dropped into the open mouths of the dragons. The requests would fall into the creature's stomach and wait there harmlessly until a device was activated. When so activated, it's false bottom would fall out and its contents would fall through a chute and drop into an underground waiting basket for selection.

No one knew when or who collected the requests. No one was ever seen placing their hands into the dragon's mouth to collect the requests. They only knew those which were selected always had results. Rejected requests would always mysteriously find its way back to their owner intact within three days. All requests were confidential.

No one noticed the old story teller watching the bronze dragons. His sharp eyes noted anyone who dropped anything into the silently roaring bronze jaws.

"Ahhh, so many this time."    

The Mistress smiled happily as she started on the latest batch of requests. The requests for their special services came in the form of letters, codes, cards, artefacts and even whispered instructions. Whispered instructions to their servers were pointedly ignored, however lucrative. It was too dangerous. The servers, cooks and manager were instructed to feign ignorance of such activities, something that was not hard to do. They were strictly a separate and legal business.

The Master and Mistress would naturally only select those deemed worthy of their attention. The others were to be politely declined. Some may be reconsidered if the payment was increased, if not they would consider the matter closed. All was done discreetly. Whenever there were government clean-ups, there was never any evidence to indicate the teahouse were involved in any illegal activities.

So many people passed through the popular place, strangers could easily meet there to conduct 'business' unknown to the management. In fact, as the Mistress had pointed out on several occasions, it was not their business to know their customer's business, so long as they paid for their lodgings, food and drink at the teahouse.

Payment for each job was lucrative. A part went to the costs, a portion went to the assassin assigned the job and the rest went to them. Her assassins, her boys were all quite well-off considering all the contracts they had completed. Even the youngest one, he had exceeded all her expectations. How could he not? Considering his lineage, he could not help but succeed. She shook her head, he was her only reminder of him, and a dark secret from her past.

Her thoughts turned to her adopted boys. Her seven deadly weapons, her pride and joy. She had chosen them carefully, saved them from various situations, nurtured them and trained them. They were no more than little boys with no future, now they were grown, skilled and deadly. She had ensured their unwavering loyalty. They owed her their lives, their very existence. She owned all of them.