We continued our journey the next morning, when the bright sun erased the vestiges of last night's storm. The only hints that remained were the droplets of water on golden leaves and my splitting headache and dripping nose. Perhaps we should wait, suggested Yun, but I protested. We must hurry on if we were to ever get away, away, far away.

As planned, we took a circuitous route around town to avoid traffic, but somehow, the traffic came to us any way. Hordes of peasants flooded the dirt road that meandered through the forest fringe. Our progress was painfully slow and finally came to a stop before the gates of a large estate, where the crowds were so dense that we simply couldn't move.

Elegant brows knitting together, Yun turned to a nearby farmer to inquire, "What accounts for these crowds today?" The farmer looked surprised and was quick point out we must be from out of town. "Everyone here knows that Governor Liu, that man over there"--he points us toward the bearded old man watching the crowds from a raised dais built just outside the heavy vermillion gates --"is searching for a son in law. Whoever beats his daughter in a duel, and of course, all other contestants, can win her hand in marriage."

Yun nodded disinterestedly (Foolish games of the provincials, he murmured under his breath) and continued his search for a nook or crevice among the bodies that could facilitate our escape. But I no longer wanted to leave so quickly. Wasn't this precisely the duel that had piqued my interest, when I'd heard the chat between the old maidservant and the merchant? I wondered what this girl was like, she who had a hand in her own fate, unlike us common women.

There she was. The Lius had erected a makeshift dueling ring by the dais, four pillars connected by rope. She stood at its center, at the center of our collective gazes.

But how was it that she looked nothing as I imagined? Porcelain skin, flushed cheeks, and a delicate willowy figure that seemed to sway in the autumnal breeze. Her cherubic face wore a small smile that was equal parts cheeky and shy, the kind of perfect smile that tickled men's fancies. Pale pastel peony, pleasantly pretty. Could she truly wield the long, thin sword she held in slender fingers?

She could. The first contender was sent flying from the ring with a light slash of her blade and strong kick to his chest. The crowds ooh-ed and aah-ed, voicing my own, silent astonishment. She curtsied demurely, enticing more moths to the flame: surely, her first victory a fluke!

It was not. The following contenders--simple village lads or wealthy sons of merchants or esteemed heirs to local officials--were disposed in quick succession: a high kick here, a sword to the throat there. Even Yun began to watch with interest, his cat-like eyes shimmering with amusement as bodies flew from the ring like crumpled sheets of paper.

"Anyone else?" cried a haughty servant. Silence, save for the whispers of the onlookers. And it was barely past noon.

"What happens if no one wins her?" I asked curiously.

The old peasant from before snorted and replied with a shake of his head, "It's all a show, that's clear now. The girl's been trained by a martial arts master. The young men here aren't her match. Master Liu is showing her off and will then marry her to a noble. A woman must marry, after all."

That seemed nonsensical. No self-respecting noble would take her now, with this kind of reputation . . . There was a glimmer of mischief in her pretty face as she peered around, waiting for other contenders. Perhaps she had known all along. Once she defeated the village lads, she'd be all but ineligible for marriage. And there was her foolish old father, beholding her with pride.

"Anyway, if you stay until the end, boy, there will surely be a banquet."

"No one else? Then I declare my mistress--"

"I challenge the girl!"

A collective gasp from the audience.

The cry had come from a giant of a man, his large body undulating with excess flesh and barely covered by threadbare, dusty robes. He himself looked as if he hadn't washed for days, his thinning hair plastered to his misshapen skull by built-up grease. Even our dainty, polite mistress grimaced and took an unwilling step back.

"The village bully," whispered the peasant to us. "His name is Wang Da and he's terrorized the streets for years now. He usually scuttles away in daylight like a cockroach. Fancy seeing him here. I guess the Old Governor did say anyone could . . ."

Cheering on the bully was a familiar group of little village brutes, one still sporting a dislocated shoulder. . .

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"I won't have you sullying my daughter!" cried the apoplectic father from his raised seat. His servants fluttered about him helplessly.

"You going back on your word, old Liu? You said anyone could participate! You gave your word!" responded Wang Da, exposing a mouthful of rotting, yellow teeth that appeared particularly grotesque against the dappled sunlight. The old man sputtered angrily, torn between love for his daughter and pride. (Why always pride?)

The girl's eyes narrowed. She declared in a melodic, sing-song voice, "Not to worry, Father, I can handle him."

The battle was inauspicious from the start. She was quick on her feet, this one. She scurried around him like a wingless fairy, landing cuts here and there. But when you had as much flesh as this giant, what's a few shallow cuts, a few spurts of blood? He had that in abundance. When she finally tired herself out, he grabbed her by her long ponytail and yanked it hard, then slammed her on the ground. I inhaled sharply as her sword clattered uselessly to her side and her porcelain skin turned blue and purple. The brute laughed heartily at her hateful, fearful glance and grabbed her by the throat.

"Does anyone else dare challenge?" cried the Wang Da as the girl gurgled in his grasp. He smirked particularly at the girl's old man. Will you go back on your word after all, the brute seemed to suggest with a raised brow? The old man watched in silent horror, seemingly having forgotten that his daughter should come before pride, that he couldn't possibly let his precious pearl be wed to this unwashed tramp, no matter what he had once said or not said . . .

There stretched a long painful second of silence, before someone yelled, "Let her go!"

All eyes turned to me. Ah, had I been the one to scream that? My bad.

What do you think you're doing, hissed Yun. Come back here. But it was too late, a path parted between me and the dueling ring, and I felt that I had no choice but to go forward. As I made my way towards center stage, I saw from the corner of my eye the man with the gold-threaded robe. This annoyed me, for surely he could have jumped out to the rescue instead.

The girl, who was now crumpled on the ground, peered at me between her dry-heaves. Perhaps she wished for a different savior, someone sturdier and stronger. Alas, the saviors in this world and few and far between. Save yourself.

"You're sure you want do this, pipsqueak?"

Cold sweat gathered at my brows. I emphatically did not want to do this. But there was something particularly gruesome, unforgiving, about a battered woman. All she wanted was to escape a loveless marriage. Why should she have to suffer so for such a small wish?

Off-stage: "Bro, he's the one! The pipsqueak who tore my arm!"

The giant growled his obligatory ah, you, I shall avenge my brother, feel my wrath etc., then charged at me. I dodged his blows as best I could.

I learned to fight, somewhat, one cold winter when my brother Jiang grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and tossed me harshly before the Queen. They had taught me cavorting with Yun in the library, though it was all very innocent at the time. We merely wished to discuss history.

"You dare converse with strange men?" the Queen had asked coyly, smiling at the blood that seeped from my scraped knees. "And the Duke's son, no less. What secrets do you share?"

I knew no secrets. She knew I knew no secrets. No one talked to me at all, except my own few servants. That didn't stop her from beating me within an inch of my life. Yun visited me while I languished in bed with a high fever. He gave me a few gentle pats on the hand and said, "What shall we do with you? I'd better teach you how to fight back."

After the beating though, I was weak for a long time and didn't learn much except for how to dodge and run.

But you could only run for so long before life caught up. Wang Da punched me squarely in the stomach, causing me to double over in pain.

"This is what interfering little pipsqueaks get," he growled with a ferocious grin, readying himself for the final blow. I shut my eyes in resignation. Did I hear someone call my name?

A dull thud, but the blow never landed. "Now sir," said a smooth, unfamiliar voice. "How about I take this boy's place? The two of us are more evenly matched, no?"

My eyes fluttered open and I saw standing before me the companion of the man in the gold-threaded robes. This young man, who wore the same rich furs as the day before, was pleasantly good looking but had an off-putting foppish air about him. After dodging a spit in the face from Wang Da, he turned and gave me a wink. "I've got this--"

"Watch out!" I cried, for Wang Da had already sprung.

The young man fought masterfully, his footwork quick as lightening and his punches strong and accurate. Meanwhile, a pair of strong arms hauled me off the ring and I found myself staring into a familiar face full of exasperation. "How do you always land yourself in so much trouble when you're so small?" asked the man in the gold-threaded robe (though today he wore blue cotton). I was in too much pain to deal with him (though I allowed myself to lean very slightly on his arm) and I focused my attention on the battle.

It wasn't much of a match. Pow-pow-pow, thud. The giant was down! Would anyone else care to challenge--no? The match was over, a husband had been found! Old Governor Liu prayed to the heavens. Drinks and food for everyone, this way please! General pandemonium.

At some point, Yun finally hopped over the crowds and made his way to my side. He grabbed me roughly from the man in the gold-threaded robes and held me close. The sudden movement exacerbated my wooziness and I had no choice but to collapse against him. "Who are you?" he asked the man coldly. The man shrugged, "You wouldn't tell me." Tit for tat.

Thankfully, before the situation could heat up, old Mr. Liu came by himself and fretted over me with tears in his eyes. "Boy, it's all thanks to you that my daughter was saved! Your courage is most-most-praiseworthy. You must come in so we can treat your wounds and feed you dinner! You will be our esteemed guest. Your friends too. Come, come!"

Thus we were ushered through the heavy vermillion gates, the silent battle between Yun and the strange man at a momentary standstill, and I on the verge of fainting.