Malao's heart began to race. “He's a thief? What does he steal?”
“Gold,” Ho replied.
Malao twitched again.
“People say he's obsessed with it,” Ho continued. “They say he'll stop at nothing to steal any shipment he comes across.”
“Who ships gold around here?” Fu asked.
“Tax collectors,” Ho said.
“But tax collectors take money from poor people, right?” Malao said. “Why is stealing from a tax collector a bad thing?”
Ho lowered his head. “Ma's father was a tax collector. He was killed delivering a shipment of gold.”
Malao swallowed hard. An uncomfortable silence filled the square. He looked at Ho and noticed the silk pouch Ho carried. Desperate to change the subject, Malao said, “Excuse me, Ho? Do you mind if I ask what's in the bag?”
Ho looked up. “Oh, I almost forgot. It's blood-moss. When I heard you two had arrived, I ran to get some in case you needed it. I remembered Fu had some poking out of his cheek the last time he was here.”
Ho held the pouch out to Malao.
“No thanks,” Malao said. “I'm not injured. Besides, that stuff doesn't work for me or anyone I know except Fu. They say it's some kind of rare family trait.”
“So I've heard,” Ho replied. “It doesn't work for me, either. Here.” Ho tossed the pouch to Fu. “I hope you never need it, but take it just in case.”
“Thank you,” Fu said as he tied the pouch to his sash. Fu looked over at Malao, who was fiddling with a small pouch on his own sash. “What's that?” Fu asked. “I didn't notice it before.”
Malao looked down and smirked. “Oh, just a little something I borrowed from a bandit named Bear—”
“What's this about a bandit named Bear?” A man wearing an elegant robe just like Ho's walked around the wall of bushes. He had a strong chin and a kind face.
Fu smiled. “Hello, Governor.”
Malao's eyes widened.
“Hello, Fu,” the Governor said. “And hello to you, too, Malao.”
Malao scratched his head. “Hello, sir.”
“I just saw Ma,” the Governor said. “He seems pretty upset.”
Malao lowered his head. “I know. I'm really sorry to hear about his father.”
“His father was a good man,” the Governor said. “It's terrible that his life was taken by bandits.”
Malao looked up. “Bandits? I thought the Monkey King killed him.”
The Governor shook his head. “Nobody has ever proved that. No one I know has even seen the Monkey King. But it's a proven fact that bandits make a habit of intercepting gold shipments. Some bandits even go so far as to steal gold trinkets from people's homes as they sleep. The Monkey King is rumored to live in this region, but I've always dismissed him as a wives’ tale people use to explain unexplainable thefts. That is, until today.”
“W-why do you say that?” Malao asked, suddenly nervous.
“Well, because of you, quite frankly. You don't happen to know him, do you?”
“No!” Malao said. “W-what's going on?”
The Governor raised his hands. “There is no reason to get excited, little one. You are obviously too young to be him. I only ask because I thought he might be a relative of yours. You are a small, dark-skinned jokester—just like he supposedly is. Also, there is the stick Ma said you carry.”
Fu looked at the Governor. “My brother is an orphan, just like me. He's no thief, and he has no relatives.”
“I believe he may never have met any of his relatives,” the Governor said. “But that does not mean he does not have any. I have one more piece of information to share. They say the Monkey King has trained a troop of monkeys to do his work since he's gotten older. The troop is rumored to be led by a large albino with a single eye.” The Governor pointed to a tall tree just beyond the hedge around the square. “Look.”
Malao gasped. In the tree was his friend the white monkey, staring straight at him. It shifted nervously from foot to foot and pointed down the trail he and Fu had followed to the village.
A voice called out in the distance, “Where is the Governor?”
Malao recognized that voice. It belonged to Ying!
“That's Major Ying, isn't it?” the Governor asked.
Malao nodded. Fu growled.
“Ho, go warn the villagers that soldiers are returning,” the Governor whispered. He looked at Malao and Fu. “You two, follow me.”
They ran around to the back of the bun vendor's shop and ducked behind several large barrels. The Governor spoke in a low voice. “You will have to leave as soon as possible. I will do my best to stall Major Ying while you make your escape.”