Ying. Ying would pay for what he’s done to Cangzhen temple, to grandmaster, to my family.

Fu found it hard to think, between what was going on, grandmaster’s passing, and Malao’s constant yabbering that never seemed to stop. You, Ying’s biological sibling, who had fortunately not taken the same path he had, stood quietly next to him, begrudgingly humoring Malao.

They finally got the scrolls back, but they had no idea where Hok, Seh, Long, or their old brother Ying were. Malao just kept talking about those monkeys he had been commanding, until a familiar ‘clink!’ of metal began to ring out in the hush of the wooded clearing, the hand that Fu had reached into his robe halted.

Just as abruptly, Malao’s feet were thrown from under him, his face hitting the ground with a muffled thump. ”Come here, you little knuckle-dragger!!” Yelled out Ying as he stepped out, gripping his chain whip, and a group of armed soldiers flanked him. Standing tall was a pole, a pale, and recognizable orange-robed monk hanging from it: Hok, hanging like a trophy animal.

It all happened to fast for you and Fu, Ying already had Malao immobilized by a dangerous pressure point, and without thinking, Fu lunged. He too, found himself going limp after the failed attack, not unconscious, but paralyzed.

You met eyes with Ying, his slithery tongue flicking out in a slow, long hiss. ”Ah, sibling, ever the wisest…not like these two..~” He said, gripping the long chain, and his eyes darkened as the grooves in his faces seemed to slither in the wind. Fu and Malao, laid limp, weakly groaning.