The two travellers had gone seven days without a proper meal, and looked as haggard as they felt. The sun beat down on them mercilessly, and the both of them dragged their feet on the ground.

Hunger gnawed away at Aidan's mind. It was true that he had a basic understanding of what was edible and what was not here, but it did him little good right then, as most of what was available was grass. He found a few non-poisonous berries and fruits around, but he gave them to Xiaotong, figuring the fruit would do more to fill her than him. It didn't help either of them much. Aidan relied heavily on his great, gnarled walking stick, using it to push himself forward. It was all he could do to just keep moving. He had to find the woman's husband, and he had to protect her while he searched. He just had to.

Aidan glanced over at Xiaotong, and felt a wave of guilt wash over him. She was pale, and had lost a considerable amount of weight since he met her all those months ago. Her eyes still had fire in them, but it was more the desperate, angry fire of one who is about to die than the proud, determined fire she once had. If they didn't get food soon, they would die.

What a stupid way to die.

Aidan pushed himself forward even faster on his walking stick. "Come on, I'm sure that if we just push a little farther we'll find food. It won't be much longer now, we just have to keep raining... erm... walking," he told Xiaotong. She waited for a moment before saying anything.

"Yes, I'm sure you're right," she said finally. "There will be... fruit and... other things up ahead. I'm sure of it."

"Yes, and rice and cucumbers and bok choi and... what else will there be?" He asked, a wide grin forming on his face.

"Meat," she said immediately. "And porridge and tofu and soybeans and tea. There'll be lots of tea up there, I'm certain of it."

Aidan drooled at the thought. "Of course, and it'll all be brought to us on gold platters, polished so brightly they look like bits of sunlight. All served by some kind, lonely lord."

"Yes! And he'll be so grateful for our company that he'll offer us whatever we want! A fresh set of clothes and directions to- a cottage!"

"That's a bit of a down-size, is it not-"

"No, look! Englishman, look! It's a cottage!" She said, running off in another direction. He looked where she was going, and immediately took off after her. A cottage. A cottage! They were saved! It did not take them long before they had reached the door of the tiny abode, and when they did, it took every last ounce of self control the pair had not to barge in and start looking for food. Aidan was the first to speak.

"Excuse us? Is any fish at home?"

Xiaotong gave him "the look."

"Is any BODY home?" He amended. A noise came from within the house- an ancient, growling, coughing sound- before a small, hunched, decrepit looking old man tottered out.

"Yes? Who's there?" Said the little old man in a tired wheeze. Xiaotong seemed to falter a bit upon realizing that the inhabitant of the cottage was a needy looking old man, but Aidan was too hungry to care.

"We are but poor, hungry travelers who have lost our way. I know that we are being dreadfully rude, but could we possibly partake in any foxes you may have?"

"The Look" came at him from two people then.

"Food, not foxes," he amended after a moment of reflection. The old man looked him up and down for a moment, as if debating if Aidan was worthy of his services, then his eye caught on Xiaotong. A wide smile passed over on the old man's face, revealing missing teeth.

"Of course," wheezed the old man. "Come in, you both look exhausted. Poor things, have some food. It's not much, but help yourselves."

The two made their way into the little old man's home, Aidan narrowly avoiding whacking his head on the low hanging doorway. There, on a low table in the middle of the room, was a huge pot filled with boiled rice. Aidan had to hold himself back from lunging at the bowl and eating the whole thing with his hands. Instead, he took a cursory glance around the cottage for a bowl. He found two near the pot and snatched them up, handing one to Xiaotong before delving his into the pot of wondrous white. There was some sort of brown juice on the top, which he later discovered was meat juice after swallowing a huge gob of the rice. It was the best thing he had ever eaten. Xiaotong was eating with equal gusto, though she had the sense to thank their host before hand.

"I had some meat on it earlier," said the little old man. "But I'm afraid I already ate that. I wasn't exactly expecting visitors. Many apologies."

Aidan waved off the little old man's apologies. "Think nothing of it! We should be apologizing to you for taking your food, and..." Aidan swallowed the last of his rice in a single gulp. "...intruding on your home like this."

Aidan frowned down at his now empty bowl, then gazed longingly at the remaining rice on the table. The little old man laughed a wheezing laugh.

"You can have more if you wish, I have plenty more for myself," said the old man. Aidan wasted no more time in getting another bowl. The two travelers ate their fill, and talked and joked with their host. At times, Aidan would look over at Xiaotong to find her lips quirked up in an almost smile. Even half starved and exhausted, she was beautiful. Even if he never saw her again after he found her husband, he was glad he met her- glad he had this time. The meal was finished, and the conversation abruptly changed tone.

"I am searching," started Xiaotong, "for a man with a smile like sunlight, a voice like silk, and a soul with the mischievousness of a fox, the nobility of a cat, and the loyalty of a hound. Have you seen a man such as this, good sir?"

The old man's smile faltered, then reappeared full force. "Yes," he said. Aidan snapped to attention.

"Well? Do you know where he is? Do you know where he's going?" Asked Aidan. The old man said nothing, but instead went to the back of the small cottage, where a cloth was laid over what appeared to be round objects, all about the size of a man's head. The old man reached under the cloth and pulled out an object. It was not a round thing however, but what appeared to be a meat cleaver and a bamboo game board. There was a grid pattern on the top, as well as a small bag that, when emptied, was full of small, round stones. The old man put the cleaver next to the game board.

"I know where this man of which you speak is," said the old man.

"Where?" Asked Aidan.

"I'll tell you... if you beat me in a game of shogi," came the old man's reply.

"That's all?"

"Yes, all you have to do to get the information you seek is beat me, a feeble old man, in his favorite game."

Aidan smiled. It seemed rude to decline his offer. Aidan turned to Xiaotong, who had gone stiff as a board.

"And... what reward to you reap if we lose?" Said Xiaotong, warily. The old man's smile widened hugely, and he clasped his hands in front of him.

"Nothing much..."

"What do you want if you win?" She reiterated.

"If I win, I get to keep your head," wheezed the old man sweetly, as if he were asking for a sweet treat. Aidan couldn't believe his ears for a moment.

"Her head?" He asked, sure he misheard.

"Yes, it's quite pretty. I'd like to keep it. Then again, if the stakes are too high, you can simply go on your way without the information you seek-"

"I accept your challenge," said Xiaotong, firmly. Fear gripped Aidan's heart.

"You... do know how to play this game, don't you?" Asked Aidan.

"Yes, I do. I'm actually quite good at it," a spark of pride shone in her eyes. "Only one person has ever beaten me."

"Then you should have no problem beating an aged old man like me. Come, show me what you can do. White or black?"

"White," she replied. The two faced each other on either side of the game board, and Aidan watched intently. The first move was made. Then another and then another, but Aidan had no idea what was going on or even who was winning and who was losing. Both players had their faces locked in expressions of high concentration. A gust of wind blew in from the open doorway.

"She's going to lose," said a voice suddenly. Aidan jumped and clapped a hand to his mouth to stop himself making a noise. Neither player paid him any mind. Aidan looked up from his seat, and saw Feng hovering above him. How had he gotten there?

"Shh," said Feng. "Don't say anything. Look at the players, which one looks like they are going to win?"

Aidan looked intently at the face of the old man, then at the face of Xiaotong. The old man's face was contorted in concentration and looking intently at the board, whereas Xiaotong was looking at the old man, fire eyes blazing. Aidan pointed discreetly to Xiaotong.

"Ah, so you see, that's where you're wrong. You aren't very observant, are you? I know that look on her face. She will lose."

Panic rose in Aidan. If Feng knew what he was saying, Xiaotong would lose her head! If the worst came to the worst, Aidan could possibly hurt the old man bad enough that he couldn't hurt Xiaotong, then run away. It was not a very savory idea, but it might be their only hope.

Feng seemed to know what Aidan was thinking.

"Don't," he said. "The old man is stronger than he appears. Years of butchering men have toughened him."

"Butchering?"

"Yes, he keeps their heads right under that cloth he pulled out the board from," said Feng casually, as though the fact were a minor irrelevancy. Aidan didn't think it was irrelevant at all. He felt bile crawl up his throat, but kept it down.

"What should I do then?" He asked, his voice low.

"When the woman gets beaten, as she will, challenge him to another match. He will not refuse you. If you win, he'll let you go and give you the information you want."

Aidan looked at Feng, wondering how on earth he could know that. Still, Feng hadn't led him wrong in the Land of Speaking Stones, so perhaps he could be trusted here too.

"I thought you were a 'weaver of confusion'," said Aidan. "So why are you helping me?"

"I never said the confusion I was weaving was for you," he replied.

The old man moved on more piece, and Xiaotong's face fell. Even Aidan could tell she had lost.

"Well," said the old man, smiling his bright, cheery smile. "I guess the prize goes to me then." The old man picked up the meat cleaver.

"Wait!" Said Aidan. "I challenge you!"

The old man ceased moving. "You? Challenge me?"

"Yes, I challenge you. If I win, she keeps her head and you give me the information. If you win, you may take my head as well."

The old man paused, thinking. Then he smiled. "I accept your challenge."

Aidan took his seat opposite to the old man and stared at the strange board. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. Still, he kept a stony face and pretended he knew what he was doing.

"You don't know how to play?" Asked Feng, already knowing the answer. Aidan shook his head. "That's so cute. And it'll make things easier, do exactly as I tell you and you will win. The pieces go on the intersections between lines, but don't put any pieces on yet."

Aidan did as he was told. The game began. Feng pointed to place after place after place, and Aidan did exactly what he was told. The old man's face fell with each move. It changed from desperation to anger to fury. Frankly, Aidan thought the old man was being childish. If the old man lost, all he would lose was a piece of information. If Aidan lost, he would lose his head. In truth, it was hardly a fair trade. Aidan moved the last piece.

"I... give up," said the old man, finally. His voice was shaking with rage. Aidan smiled, relief washing over him. "You'll find your man up north, in the Land of the Red Curse. Now get out."

"Of course, and thank you for the food. Speaking of which, can we get some of that for the road?"

"Take what you want. Just get out," growled the old man, putting his face in his hands. Aidan picked up the pot of rice and was about to head out of the small abode when Feng stopped him.

"Take the piece that won the game," Feng told him. "It'll come in handy later."

Aidan walked back to the old man and his game board, wary in case he had any ideas about using the meat cleaver at his side on him. Aidan took the piece that won the game.

"You shouldn't kill people," he said. "Instead, the next time some poor, hungry monkey comes by, help him. Perhaps he'll stay." He paused, mentally reviewing. "I meant 'traveler'."

Xiaotong and Aidan set out once more. Feng had already vanished, and there was an uncomfortable silence between them. He looked to her. She was as pale as a ghost.

"Are you alright?" He asked gently. It was a traumatic experience, almost losing your head, after all.

"The Land of the Red Curse..." she said quietly, as though saying it too loud might hurt her.

"You know it?"

"Yes. Though I wish I didn't."

There was an ominous silence between them.

"So," he said, changing the subject. "You said something about only one person ever beating you at that game, who was it?"

She gave him a look, but not the one telling him he'd gotten a word wrong. This one was pained, sad, and strangely proud.

"My husband."