Chapter 8

A week later at the secret meeting room at Dr. Wu’s clinic, Wen-Ying gathered with Bao Gong, Zhang Yu-Lan, and Takeda to show them the hand-drawn map of the inside of her old home. Yesterday, she had already met with Yao Kang, Huang Jia-Ming, and the Tian Di Hui members who would be executing the arson and assassinations. Today, she wanted to coordinate the plans for those managing people outside of their group.

This mission could not fail. When the old Yuan villa burned to ashes and the bodies of the enemy and traitors roasted in the searing fire of hell, it would be her ultimate tribute to her father, her mother, and her most beloved sister. When that happened, their souls in Heaven could rest in peace.

She had to hold it all together. The rift between her, Yao Kang, and Huang Jia-Ming could not spread any further. For the sake of Tian Di Hui, and for the sake of everything they had worked for.

Fan Yong-Hao would be so disappointed if he saw them hooking hearts and knocking horns, bickering and clashing against each other.

Maybe, a successful mission would raise everyone’s spirits and unite their hearts.

Leaning over the map, Wen-Ying pushed her palms against the top of the table. “The villa’s dining room is situated north.” She circled her finger around the big room in the middle of the first floor. “There are three entrances. One to the main drawing room in the front. One to the corridor leading to the kitchen, and one to the hallway to the back stairwell. The back stairway is used by servants. It also leads to the staff’s entrance at the back of the house.”

She checked everyone’s reaction around the table to make sure they understood. In wealthy households, staff members and vendors were required to use a separate door to enter and exit the building. Main doors were reserved for use only by members of the family and their guests.

“On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, Bao Gong will bring Yao Kang, Huang Jia-Ming, and four of our Tian Di Hui members into the kitchen as temporary help. I, Zhang Yu-Lan, and four other members will enter the house in disguise as part of the performance troupe.”

She pointed to the sitting room near the back stairway. “Boa Gong, this room is the most convenient for the performance troupe to wait and prepare. It’s also the closest to the staff entrance. You should advise Shen Yi to allow the troupe to use this room that night.”

“That should be no problem,” Bao Gong said. Wen-Ying didn’t think it would be either. That sitting room, being so close to the kitchen and the staff’s common room, was the least used even when her own family occupied the house.

“The staff entrance will be our escape route,” she said. “It’ll be the last door to be sealed off.” She picked up a second folded copy of the map and gave it to Yu-Lan. “Be sure the performers know where the escape door is and how they will go outside. They should leave as soon as their performance is over.”

“I will.” Yu-Lan accepted the map, but Wen-Ying held on. Yu-Lan frowned with a quizzical look.

“Are you sure you want to come along?” Wen-Ying asked. Yu-Lan had volunteered to join them that night to help direct the escape of the theater troupe and to provide moral support. She and Wen-Ying planned to disguise themselves as understudies for the Peking opera singers. That would enable them to enter the mansion with their faces fully painted to avoid being recognized. “You don’t have to come in person.”

“I know.” Yu-Lan pulled the copy of the map. “I want to come.”

“Why?” Wen-Ying couldn’t understand. In the past, all their larger and more dangerous resistance missions had been against Japanese officials and at places where the Imperial Japanese Army operated. When they attacked collaborators, they had always targeted their offices, their vehicles, or in public places. Poison in a restaurant, stabbing in a lounge, murder in a hotel room, even shoot-outs on the streets. This was the first time they attempted arson in a family home. Yu-Lan had to have considered the implications. “What if next time, we target your family? In your home?”

Yu-Lan grimaced. “I’ve thought of this point as well. My parents aren’t political, even though they’ve made the choice to support Wang Jing-Wei. They’re just greedy and selfish. They always have been. They only look out for themselves. And my brothers? They’re just like my parents. All of them are cowards who are willing to accept humiliation to stay alive. But for all their faults, they are not evil. Not like Liu Kun. They don’t torture or murder our own kind.” She lifted her head. Her eyes a mixture of determination and fear. “Evil can’t win against the good. I believe the Japanese and the traitors are destined to lose. I’m doing what I do because if the day comes when Tian Di Hui decides to eliminate my family, I can ask for clemency for them. Maybe after all that I’ve done for Tian Di Hui, the ones who will make the final decision will grant them mercy on my account.”

Wen-Ying softened her face. She never knew. Deep inside, Yu-Lan still cared greatly about her family, and she had found a way to keep her familial devotion while honoring her vows and upholding her loyalty to Tian Di Hui.

Takeda and Bao Gong stared at Wen-Ying, waiting for her to speak.

“What if the Tian Di Hui elders refuse?” Wen-Ying asked. “What if they don’t grant your family clemency?”

“Then, they only have themselves to blame. But I would know I had made my best efforts to save them, and I can’t not try.”

Wen-Ying let go of the copy of the map. She would not be able to change Yu-Lan’s mind. Neither did she want to. In her place, Wen-Ying herself would have done the same thing.

“All right.” She brought everyone’s attention back to their plan. “After dinner is served, the performers will begin the entertainment in the dining room.”

As she said this, her memory flashed back to entertainers who had come through her house over the years. Puppeteers her parents had paid to perform on her eleventh birthday. Singers, dancers, jugglers. Back then, their home was always bustling with activities.

They didn’t only hire Chinese performers either. Sometimes, they would invite pianists and violinists. For her forty-fourth birthday, her mother had refused a banquet celebration, which her father proposed. The number four was considered a bad omen because it was pronounced the same as the word “death” in Chinese. Her mother, who was always overly superstitious, didn’t want to tempt fate with a banquet. So instead of a big celebration, Mei Mei invited a classmate to perform a piano and violin concerto together with her as a birthday gift after a sumptuous feast for the family at home.

The sound of Mei Mei’s piano music would grace this world no more…

“Wen-Ying?” Takeda called her name.

Wen-Ying came out of her thoughts. “Bao Gong will bring Yao Kang, Huang Jia-Ming, and four other Tian Di Hui members as one team into the house earlier in the day as temporary kitchen staff. When the performers begin their first act, Yao Kang and Huang will lead their team to get rid of the security guards outside.”

She drew a deep breath. From this point on, all their lives would be at risk. But if she could rely on Yao Kang and Huang for anything, it was their well-honed skill to silently kill. “After that, I will lead my team to pour kerosene in front of all the doors and windows on the first floor. We’ll begin with the doors and windows leading to the outside, and work our way to the interior doors. We’ll trap everyone inside the dining room. Once the fire starts, Kazuki and his henchmen, Liu Kung and his wife, and Tang Wei will have no route to escape.” She paused. The finality of her own words chilled her own spine.

“Bao Gong?”

“Yes?”

“The mask changer will be the final act.” She moved the red and black painted mask of an angry face on the table to the center. “When he switches his mask to this one, it is our signal. You will start the smoke in the kitchen and call for the house staff to escape. Yao Kang and Huang Jia-Ming will stay behind and pretend to put out the fire. Try to save as many innocents as you can.” She bit her lip, then pushed on. “Takeda, that’s also your signal to get out. It should take a while before the smoke drifts into the dining room.”

“Understood,” Takeda answered. A thousand words were spoken between them in the moment he met her gaze.

Danger. The warning shot into her mind, breaking the magic. Wen-Ying looked away and forced her fear to the side. Of course there would be danger. The mission was a risk to all of them. Takeda would be fine. He had one of the easiest roles in this whole set up. She shouldn’t worry about him more than she worried about everyone else. If she were to be a leader, she could not let her personal feelings interfere.

She understood now why Fan Yong-Hao remained unmarried. He could not favor any person above another. He could not have private emotions that might sway his actions or thoughts.

“When the performer puts on this mask, we’ll have ten minutes to light all the fires except for the doorways to the dining room and the servants’ entrance. The servants’ entrance will be our escape route.” She pointed at the spot on the map. “Once the mask changer leaves the dining room, he’ll head straight for escape, and we’ll set fire to seal all three dining room exits.”

The room fell silent. Wen-Ying put down her hand next to the mask. What words of comfort or encouragement should she say? She was so ill-prepared to be the one to inspire the others.

Takeda spoke up, reciting one of Tian Di Hui’s sacred vows. “Three knives, six eyes, no room for mercy. A pledge to eliminate the enemy, one swipe to empty all.”

Wen-Ying looked up. Those words. Takeda understood. She understood. Until they succeeded, until they drove out their enemy—every last one of them, these words were what they would live for. These words would be their anchor. Their light to guide them out of the reign of darkness.