Page 123 of Savage Throne
“Fuck my father.”
Jo bobbed her head. “Yeah. Fuck him.”
Chen scowled at her. “Well. . .I hope you didn’t bring any of yourspecialgummies today.”
Jo shrugged. “I sure did. Want one?”
He pointed at her and sneered. “I never want to see them again.”
“Your loss, and by the way, you were way cooler on the gummy than sober. You should think about never going without them.”
“That will never happen.” Chen adjusted his tie with a disgruntled sigh.
Thankfully, Duck returned before the conversation could derail further. In his hands, he carried a long, ornately carved box that exuded pure luxury. Its wood was deep mahogany, and the intricate patterns etched into its surface spoke of craftsmanship spanning centuries.
Duck handed it over. “Are you ready, Lei?”
“I am.” I traced my fingers over the box, feeling the history beneath my touch.
Opening the latch, I lifted the lid, and the soft creak of the hinges sounded like a threatened secret.
Inside, nestled against worn blue silk, laySoaring Precious, and the blade shimmered with a deadly allure.
The steel seemed almost alive.
The white jade handle was covered in ornate leaves, and inlaid gold, silver, and copper adorned the blade in a stunning display of artistry.
Jo’s eyes widened as she took a step closer. “What kind of sword is that?”
I didn’t look away from the weapon. “TheBaoteng Saber. Also known as Soaring Precious. It was crafted centuries ago during the Qing Dynasty for the Qianlong emperor. An Imperial Sword Master poured his life’s skill into this blade.”
Jo’s gaze remained fixed on the sword. “So. . .this is passed down in your family?”
“Not really. Five years ago, a London billionaire bought this sword at an auction for seven million dollars. I’m sure he was pretty happy about the deal. The next day, my father woke him up in the middle of the night, sipping tea right next to his bed and Uncle Song had a blade on his sleeping wife’s throat.”
Jo widened her eyes.
“Next, my father politely asked the man if he could hold the sword for him and. . .of course the man obliged.”
“I bet he did.”
I handed Duck the box and raised the sword to get a better look at the blade. “My father would like me to kill him withthissword.”
Jo blinked. “Uh. . .o-kay. . .why not a gun?”
“No guns will be permitted at the feast or battle tonight. All will be checked for weapons.”
“But. . .he wants to die bythatsword?”
“Apparently, he’s always dreamed of this sword being what took him out.” I turned the blade. “Honestly. . .he probably figured it would be me using the sword to kill him. Probably hoped it would be.”
“Wow.” Jo shook her head. “The East is. . .different.”
The memory of my father and my past conversation came back to me.
This deranged joy had coated my father’s words. “Do you know the legend, Lei? It is believed that this splendid sword possesses an ethereal awareness, discerning the honor of those it is wielded against.”
Tension had gathered in my shoulders.
