The Fugitive's Wife (10): The Attacker
Caw—! Caw—!
A sudden, ominous cry sliced through the air above my head. The heavy flutter of wings that followed made me instinctively hunch my shoulders.
Fan Kuai, who had been following close behind, let out a hearty laugh and stepped forward with his massive frame, as if to shield me.
“Haha, so even you have something that scares you, sister-in-law?”
“Ahem. I wasn’t scared. It simply startled me, appearing so suddenly.”
I truly hadn’t been afraid. To a 21st-century Korean like me, crows were the next most familiar birds after pigeons. I cleared my throat once more and scanned our surroundings.
“So, how much farther until we reach my husband’s mountain stronghold?”
“Roughly halfway.”
Ho, who had been leading the way, stopped and turned to look at me. His gaze lingered briefly on my trembling calves.
“Would you like to rest a moment?”
“No, I’m fine. We must arrive before sunset.”
By my estimate we had already been hiking for two hours. My legs were beginning to ache, but not enough to warrant stopping. I gave my thighs a few light pats with my fist and changed the subject.
“By the way, Master Ho.”
“Yes, madam.”
“What exactly counts as a tiger’s sign?”
“A tiger’s sign?”
“Yes. The sort of thing that makes you think, If you see this, run immediately. Droppings, footprints, that kind of thing.”
Lü Zhi’s true ordeals were only beginning now. Following Liu Bang across the realm, being taken hostage by Xiang Yu, enduring dozens of defeats at Liu Bang’s side. To survive this chaotic age, I needed to commit every small survival detail to memory.
“Things we must watch for…” Ho glanced around, then rested his hand on a towering tree to his right. “Here’s one, right on cue.”
“……?”
A tiger’s mark this close? I tilted my head and approached. Narrowing my eyes, I spotted a deep, razor-sharp scar gouged across the rough bark.
Ho flared his nostrils. “The thick scent lingering here is tiger urine. Quite pungent, isn’t it?”
“……”
Sniff, sniff. I crouched and inhaled.
“Let me have a go as well.”
Curiosity apparently getting the better of him, Fan Kuai folded his bear-like bulk and squatted beside me. We sat shoulder to shoulder, sniffing intently, then looked up at Ho in unison.
“I don’t smell anything.”
“Neither do I.”
It seemed human noses were equally limited. Ho tilted his head, then sat down close beside me as though exasperated.
“Breathe deeply. Can’t you catch that sharp, acrid tang?”
“I’m not sure…”
“Close your eyes and focus. Shut out the forest sounds and chase only the scent.”
Fan Kuai and I obeyed, closing our eyes and flaring our nostrils. The smell of phytoncides. Damp earth. Wind. Rustling leaves.
How long had passed?
“……Hik?!”
Suddenly a hand clamped down hard on my shoulder. I opened my eyes with a start to find Fan Kuai’s face stripped of all playfulness, deadly serious as he pinned my shoulder.
“F-Fan Kuai…!”
“Shh. Mouth shut, sister-in-law.”
“Mmph!”
This time his rough palm sealed my lips entirely. Had a tiger appeared? Behind me?
Trembling like an aspen leaf, I looked to Ho. He nodded, expression alert, as if he too had sensed something.
“Front. Roughly twenty paces.”
“Agreed. Not a four-legged beast. Human footsteps.”
Only then did Fan Kuai slowly withdraw his hand from my mouth.
“Sister-in-law. Stay right here and don’t move.”
“……Y-yes. Understood.”
The footsteps of a grown man. In other words, not a tiger. Yet in these deep mountains, the sound of someone approaching while concealing their presence was far more ominous than any tiger.
I whispered, voice barely audible. “Could it be… bandits?”
“There’s a faint metallic ring accompanying the footsteps. He’s likely carrying a sword,” Ho analyzed coolly.
Fan Kuai nodded and drew the massive butcher knife from his belt.
“You guard the madam. I’ll go greet our visitor.”
“No, right now we should stay together—”
“Do as I say! If that bastard takes the madam hostage, we’ll be in real trouble.”
His voice was lower and graver than I had ever heard it. The usual sloppy, good-natured older-brother demeanor had vanished completely.
Ho nodded silently and stepped forward to shield me.
Right… There’s no way Fan Kuai would lose.
It was obvious that Xiang Yu surpassed Lü Bu. And Fan Kuai was the official powerhouse of the Chu-Han tales—the man Xiang Yu himself had acknowledged as a true warrior at the Hongmen Banquet. Unless some reclusive master lived in these mountains, Fan Kuai would not be defeated in a frontal clash.
I covered my mouth with both hands and silently cheered for Fan Kuai’s broad back as he strode toward the path.
Peaceful spring sunlight spilled between the trees. Birds sang, branches swayed in the breeze—a tranquil scene. Within that silence where I could detect nothing amiss, Fan Kuai’s thunderous roar shattered the calm.
“Come out, you rat! This Big Brother Fan will take you on!”
“……”
The silence that answered felt almost inevitable.
…Did he really need to advertise his exact location?
My modern, practical instincts protested, but I decided to watch quietly. After all, announcing one’s name before a duel was standard practice in Three Kingdoms games.
“……”
Yet no answering voice came from the other side. The tension grew so thick it seemed even the wind had stopped. I chewed my nails anxiously and glanced at Ho.
“Can you still hear the footsteps?”
“……No. They’ve stopped.”
Stopped. That meant the opponent had spotted Fan Kuai and gone to ground. And what that implied was—
An ambush is the only option left!
In this dense forest, there was only one place from which to launch a surprise attack while hidden from view.
Above us—in the trees!
I jerked my head upward and opened my mouth. “F-Fan Kuai! Ab—”
But a split second earlier—
Clang—!
A sharp metallic ring split the woods. Leaves cascaded like rain as a black shadow plummeted straight down.
“Ab-above?!”
Fan Kuai’s startled cry rang out. The butcher knife met the long sword. In thickness and weight Fan Kuai’s cleaver dominated, yet the downward strike carrying the attacker’s full body weight made Fan Kuai’s wrists tremble dangerously.
“Ugh…!”
Fan Kuai clenched his teeth, trying to bat the blade aside, but the opponent had already twisted in midair and landed. The masked man murmured “Oh?” as though impressed, then glanced toward me.
The eyes visible between the folds of cloth curved kindly. “Are you all right, madam?”
“……Pardon?”
In this situation he was asking after my well-being? The unexpected courtesy left me blinking stupidly.
Yet before I could answer, the man turned back to Fan Kuai. Without the slightest hesitation he drove a savage kick into Fan Kuai’s abdomen.
Thud!
“Urk…”
Fan Kuai staggered back with a short cry, but he refused to collapse and immediately regained his stance.
“Hah. For a mere bandit you’ve got spirit.”
“What? Bandit? You’re the bandit, hiding your face like a coward…!”
“Your tongue runs long.”
The low, icy rebuke cut through the air. The masked man leveled his sword at an angle and lowered his stance—shoulders relaxed, center of gravity in the dantian, sword tip locked on his opponent’s throat. A posture that combined explosive elasticity with unshakeable balance. The textbook sword stance I had only ever seen in internet videos.
He’s trained…!
Systematic martial arts would not be fully established until later generations. Yet even in this era, manuals on swordsmanship and the principles and movements they taught were undoubtedly transmitted orally.
No matter how gifted a human weapon Fan Kuai might be, at present he was still little more than a strong butcher. A wild beast without technique versus a warrior who had refined his art. In a one-on-one duel the gap was painfully clear.
Of all the bandits, why did one like this have to appear…?
I gritted my teeth and began searching for a solution. At the same moment Fan Kuai charged again with a roar.
“Uwooo!”
The heavy butcher knife cleaved the air. The man simply shifted half a step left, lightly evading the lethal arc.
Clang—!
Then the counter. The sword stabbed toward Fan Kuai’s exposed flank. Fan Kuai hastily withdrew his blade to block; his massive frame shuddered as he was driven back.
“Ugh!”
“Not bad, big man.”
“……You’re not so bad yourself. Slippery as a rat.”
Fan Kuai was already breathing hard. The man’s eyes narrowed.
“But a sword that relies solely on brute force cannot overcome true skill.”
The blade flashed. A flurry of strikes—high, low, middle again. Fluid swordplay washed over Fan Kuai like water.
This is dangerous…
A duel between one who had studied the sword and one who had not. Moreover, the difference in reach was stark. Once the man seized proper distance and pressed the attack, Fan Kuai could not even close in; he was being battered.
I have to help.
My fists clenched of their own accord. I held my breath and scanned the ground.
A weapon… or anything useful…
Stones lay scattered at my feet. One roughly the size of my fist, jagged. I picked it up carefully.
…No. This won’t work.
A sling stone—simple yet effective. But I lacked the accuracy to hit an opponent moving with such agility. If I missed and struck Fan Kuai in the back of the head, it would be the ultimate troll. A team-kill that ended the game.
Then what?
Even as I pondered, the battle continued to tilt. Fan Kuai breathed heavily, focused entirely on defense, while the man probed for openings.
At this rate exhaustion would claim him soon.
…Think. Think.
I was Lü Zhi—small, powerless, in a woman’s body. A direct fight? Impossible. Raw strength? Nonexistent. Therefore…
A method outside combat?
I studied the masked man. Even while engaged with Fan Kuai he kept stealing glances our way. Yet his gaze was fixed on Ho, who stood protectively before me, not on me.
He did not register me as a combatant at all. Naturally. He had lowered his guard, assuming a tiny woman could pose no threat.
Therefore—
There is a blind spot.
I drew a deep breath, then gently placed my hand on Ho’s trembling shoulder.
“Master Ho.”
“……Ugh.”
Startled, he turned.
“Y-yes, madam.”
“Do you have any rope?”
“Rope… yes?”
“Rope. Quickly.”
I urged him with a grave expression. He fumbled inside his clothes and produced a sturdy coil of leather rope.
“It’s for setting traps, but…”
“Lend it to me.”
I snatched the rope from his hands. This was no straw cord; it was genuine, braided from animal sinew and hide—tough and strong. I stretched it taut and swiftly tied a knot.
What I created was a lasso—the very loop cowboys flung at cattle in Western films.
“M-madam…”
“Shh.”
I dropped flat onto the dirt, ignoring how filthy my clothes became, and began crawling. Using the tree shadows, I circled toward the man’s back—into the blind spot beyond his vision while he faced Fan Kuai.
After creeping and crawling, I reached a spot roughly five paces directly behind him.
“Uwooo!”
As if on cue, Fan Kuai charged again with a roar. He must have been watching me even then. I met his eyes and slowly rose.
Clang—! Kaang—!
Fan Kuai swung his cleaver like a madman. A frenzied barrage that abandoned all defense, bordering on suicidal.
“You lunatic…!”
The man lowered his stance while parrying the heavy blows, clearly trying to redirect Fan Kuai’s monstrous strength.
“Ugh…!”
Yet Fan Kuai’s power exceeded even that; the masked man staggered ever so slightly and retreated. His backward step landed exactly where I had calculated.
And in that instant—
Now!
I stepped forward.
“……Eh?”
The presence at his back. The man reflexively turned his head. Too late.
I hurled the lasso toward his feet like a bullfighter casting a rope. It flew like a striking serpent and settled perfectly behind him.
“Nice one, sister-in-law!”
Fan Kuai pressed the attack with renewed fury. The man’s right foot stepped squarely into the loop.
Caught!
Without hesitation I yanked the rope with all my strength, throwing my entire weight behind it.
“Ugh?!”
The heavy jolt of his ankle being snared. The man’s balance collapsed; his body lifted into the air.
“Got you, you rat!”
Fan Kuai seized the opening and smashed the flat of his cleaver into the man’s wrist.
Thwack!
The sword flew away. Unhindered now, Fan Kuai leaped and pinned him down.
“Ugh…!”
“Don’t move! Squirm and I’ll slit your throat!”
The cold edge of the cleaver pressed against the man’s neck. At the same time Fan Kuai’s knee drove into his solar plexus.
For a moment the man stared up at me with an almost aggrieved expression. I lifted my chin defiantly.
He soon squeezed his eyes shut and ceased resistance.
“I lost.”
A low voice slipped from his lips.
“……To think you were working together.”
The words carried deep regret and humiliation. It seemed he had mistaken me for nothing more than a kidnapping victim.
“Fan Kuai. Tie him securely.”
“Leave it to me.”
Fan Kuai accepted another length of rope from Ho and bound the man—hands behind his back, ankles thoroughly secured. A complete restraint.
“Good. He won’t even twitch now.”
“Thank you.”
I knelt, seized the mask, and yanked it off.
“Hmm.”
The face beneath was far younger than expected—mid-twenties. Gaunt, yet his eyes burned with sharp vitality. I considered employing some movie-style torture, but the clear “Hmph, kill me” resignation on his face made me simply ask in a calm tone.
“Your name?”
“……”
“I’m asking. Your name.”
“Haiyan.”
“Why did you attack us?”
“I thought those bandits were kidnapping you.”
“What?”
Fan Kuai burst into a dumbfounded laugh. Just as I had suspected.
I clicked my tongue, shrugged, brushed the dirt from my hands, and continued the interrogation calmly.
“So who exactly are you? You’re no reclusive expert playing vigilante while hiding your identity.”
Haiyan stared up at me in silence. Contempt, puzzlement, and a trace of curiosity mingled in his gaze. At last he sighed, resigned, and muttered.
“I am a subordinate… of Brother Liu Ji.”
“……”
At that moment a perfect silence descended upon the forest, as though even the wind had ceased to breathe.