Option one was out of the question. Even though Ba was here, he wasn’t a true New Order warrior. Plus, no one knew he was my father—not even Ba himself.
Option two was a maybe. If I really buttered up an auntie or uncle, maybe I could convince one of them to let me represent their family.
That left me with just option three. I realized what Xiong was thinking the moment the old man kneeled down before me.
“Shī fu!” Jordan and Ashley gasped in unison.
“Please, warrior,” Xiong said. “On behalf of the New Order warriors, the Xiong family, and my fallen son, Jinyu”—his voice caught for just a brief second—“I would like to request that you represent us in the Ninety-Sixth Duels, that you win, and that you lead our warriors to victory.”
Tears stung my eyes. “Shī fu.” I knelt down in front of the old man. I didn’t know what else to say.
“I’m not doing this for you, Faryn,” Xiong said gruffly. “I’m doing this for the sake of the New Order warriors. And …” He lifted his head. His eyes shone with tears. “For the sake of the world. Fate has spoken. You are the one who must save us, Faryn.”
I knew what Xiong was really asking me to do. If I fought in the Ninety-Sixth Duels and won the right to embark on the quest, I would lose someone dear to me for the second time. Xiong was asking me to protect his warriors, and the world, even at a great cost.
Just like his son, Jinyu, had.
Sweat beaded on my palms. My heart thudded. I was scared. More scared than I’d been since facing the nián.
But the thought of thousands dying was even scarier.
“I would be honored to take Jinyu’s place in the Ninety-Sixth Duels,” I said.
One corner of Xiong’s mouth tilted upward, which was the closest he’d ever come to a smile. “Good girl. As my thanks, please accept this gift.” He reached into his robe and pulled out a gleaming silver sword with a well-worn black handle. It was shorter in length than the sword I’d been using and yet looked more vicious.
“But that’s …,” Ashley gasped.
“Jinyu’s,” Jordan finished in awe.
“My son would have wanted you to have his jiàn, Faryn.” Xiong placed the sword in my limp palms. It was lighter than any of the swords I’d trained with at the Jade Society.
I shook my head. “I can’t accept this—”
“I would feel most safe knowing it’s in your capable hands,” Xiong said, eyes burning into mine. “I believe Jinyu would feel the same way. Besides, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a more powerful weapon than this one during the Hungry Ghost Festival.”
My curiosity must have shown on my face, because Xiong explained. “At the New Order, we believe that the dead live on in not only their kin but also in their weapons.” The wrinkles around his eyes softened as he gazed upon the gleaming blade, as though picturing Jinyu in its place. “My son may have left the mortal world, but his spirit lives on in his sword. It will only grow stronger as the end of the festival draws closer. Can you feel it, Faryn Liu? The strength of Jinyu’s will?”
Nodding, I gripped the handle with my trembling hands. After Xiong finished speaking, a warm energy traveled from the sword into my hands, as if the weapon were greeting a new master. Maybe it was just the heat from Xiong’s touch. Or maybe it was the warmth of someone else’s fingers, sent from beyond this world.
I looked Xiong square in the eye. “I’ll use Jinyu’s sword well. I promise I won’t let you or Jinyu down.”
“See to it that you don’t,” Xiong said in a warning tone of voice.
It didn’t matter if the gods foresaw glory or death in my future. I had to take on this quest. I had to save the world. I had to save Alex. And I had to restore Ba’s memory, no matter what.
One hour to go until sunset. Until the Ninety-Sixth Duels.
Xiong had left to prepare for tonight. I’d changed into the white robes he’d given me. Ren hadn’t returned—maybe he was still running laps. Ashley had gone back into her room to listen to her music, insisting that it was the only way for her to relax and prepare for battle. Heavy metal blasted out of her room.
Jordan danced around the piles of clothing in the apartment, shadowboxing an invisible opponent. After a while, he paused and dropped his fists at his sides. He wiped a sheen of sweat off his brow and gave me a pointed look. “You should warm up, too.”
“Yeah,” I said, barely listening.
“Like, right now. Especially since you’ve never used Jinyu’s sword before.”
Jordan was right. This was no time to space out. I had to kick some major New Order warrior butt. I stood up, the movement causing shrimp chips to fall from the couch onto the floor. “Spar with me?”
Jordan eyed me warily and then nodded. We circled one another around a particularly large pile of dirty clothing. Testing the weight of Jinyu’s sword in my hand, I scrutinized Jordan’s every movement.
Always watch the eyes, I could hear Ye Ye whispering in my head. The eyes are where the opponent reveals all their moves.
I struck first, hoping to catch Jordan off guard with a speedy attack to his right side. The sword was featherlight in my hand, and I went off-balance. Jordan dove out of the way. Before I could turn around, I felt the pain of a kick to my left leg.
I sliced downward with my right hand onto Jordan’s leg, and he withdrew it quickly. I gritted my teeth. Guess Jordan had more moves than I’d thought. I whirled around and narrowed my eyes. He raised his fists and grinned in response.
“What’re you dorks doing?” came Ashley’s shrill voice.
Jordan and I both dropped our arms and turned toward her. Ashley emerged from her bedroom
