Tiger by Jeff Stone

look at the scrolls later.
    Fu finished smoothing out the scrolls, then lay down near the cub, next to the warm fire. The cub began to snore, just like Fu often did. Fu looked over and saw that the cub was sleeping with its mouth open, drooling. He often did that, too. As Fu lay there, he realized that these weren't the only things he and the tiger cub had in common. There was also kung fu. Tiger-style kung fu, which was a blending of humanskills and tiger skills. That made him and the tiger members of the same spiritual family tree.
    And there was something else. Something significant. He and the cub were both orphans. Both without families. Both alone.
    Fu recalled the boy he had attacked earlier. That boy was lucky. His father might have pressured him to kill the cub, but in the end, his father didn't make him do it. Also, his father seemed to truly care for him. The boy's father might be a good man, after all. Fu's mind began to race again.
    What had he done to the boy? His actions were no better than those of an animal. He had let the animal half of him take control. The only way to make things right was for his other half to get involved. The human half. The man half. A real man admits when he makes a mistake and apologizes, regardless of the consequences. Fu had come to learn this the hard way.
    On more than one occasion, he had attacked one or more of his brothers after they offended him or played a small trick on him. His reactions were always far more drastic than the original actions, usually leaving his brother or brothers in bad shape. Afterward, Grandmaster always made Fu swallow his pride and apologize. His brothers had always accepted his apology, and that was that. All was forgotten. Perhaps if he apologized to the boy, he would be forgiven. And maybe if he openly forgave the men for killing the tiger, the men would forgive him for attacking them. If they were good men, they would forgive him.Grandmaster had told him to find good men to help against Ying. If the hunters were good men, they would help. And if they were very good men, they would also give him some food. At the very least, he could ask the men to direct him to the village dump, where he might be allowed to scavenge for scraps. He was
that
hungry.
    Curled up by the fire next to his new blood brother, Fu drifted off to sleep.

“ M ajor Ying, I have returned!” announced Captain Yue ceremoniously.
    Ying pulled his head out of a rain barrel near the Cangzhen main gate and wiped his face on the sleeve of the clean robe he had just put on. Captain Yue paraded over to the opposite side of the rain barrel atop his brown stallion, his immaculate silk robes shimmering in the evening sun.
    Ying's third-in-command was a tall man, but he was slight of build, so he usually wore billowing robes to give himself a bulkier appearance. He also wore large, impractical hats to make himself feel important. He wasn't much of a soldier, but he commanded respect nonetheless. He was the Emperor's nephew.
    “Why are you back already?” Ying scowled as he cleaned one of his ears with a long fingernail.
    “I am happy to report that I have completed my mission,” Captain Yue said proudly adjusting his hat.
    Ying pulled his finger from his ear. “What did you just say?”
    “I am happy to report that I have completed my mission … sir.”
    Ying's eyes sparkled and he laughed. “You surprise me, Captain Yue. That was quick! Where are your men?”
    Captain Yue puffed out his chest. “They're still on the trail, sir. I raced here to give you the news myself. I must say, I've had an exhausting day.”
    “I can only imagine,” Ying replied. “I suppose your men are transporting the young monk. Do you have the scrolls with you? Or are they with your men, too?”
    Captain Yue paused. He shifted in his saddle.
    “I…aaah… thought my mission was simply to find a village and inform their most senior official of your search for the young monks and the