Free In the Orient by Art Collins

New Year.”
    “I will knock now,” Wu Feng said, reaching up and rapping the metal dragon’s head twice.
Ming Wei
    Seconds later, the door opened. A picture of Confucius that had been shown in one of the SLAP classes instantly flashed into Archibald’s mind when he saw the old man standing on the other side of the door. Ming Wei was about five feet six inches tall and verythin. He was wearing a hanfu, the traditional Chinese silk robe.
    “Enter,” Ming said, bowing.
    When tea had been served, Ming asked May to recount everything that had happened during their encounter with the Monkey Clone. Even though Ming’s English was reasonably good, May spoke in Cantonese so there would be no misunderstanding.
    Listening intently, Ming asked several questions, but for the most part he sat quietly. When she had finished, he said, “Monkey Clone never release boy. When you return Lantau, you must kill Monkey Clone. If not, Monkey Clone kill you. That for sure.”
    Hoping Ming could provide an answer, Archibald posed the question that had been nagging at him since he and the others first entered the dungeon. “How did the legend of the Monkey King and its clone become real?”
    “Ah, interesting question,” Ming replied thoughtfully. “Legends be mysterious things. Lao Tse tells us, ‘Let reality be reality.’ This now your reality.”
    Convinced that his brother would die a terrible death if Ming couldn’t provide more concrete answers, Archibald pressed on, asking, “I’m not sure what this Lao Tse guy meant, but how do we kill something that’s immortal and that’s been living for over a thousand years?”
    “I think I have way, but not hundred percent sure,” Ming answered. Then he smiled and said, “Remember that Kong also immortal, until Kong die.”
    Ming Wei
    Ming went on to explain that he was fairly certain he could recreate the same metal the alchemist had used to forge the daggers that killed Kong. However, since the Monkey Clone wouldn’t be caught sleeping, someone would need to figure out how to get the metal into the Monkey Clone’s eyes.
    “My aim is good with the flying dart,” May declared confidently. “In that cramped dungeon, I wouldn’t miss its eye.”
    Having witnessed May’s skill at throwing flying darts on many occasions, Wu Feng gave credence to May’s confidence, saying, “On that, she is right.”
    “Ah, the fei biao, or ‘flying dart’ as you English say,” Ming replied, stroking his long gray mustache and pointed beard. Then he nodded and said, “May work. Yes, may work.”
    “I know what a dart is, but what’s a flying dart?” Archibald asked.
    “Here,” Ming said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a tapered metal object that was about three inches long. A sharp knife-like point was on one end of the flying dart, and a piece of cloth attached to a small ring was on the other end.
    “The cloth is for stabilization,” May explained as she picked up the flying dart and looked around the room. “See that knothole on the wall over there?” she asked, pointing to a spot that was less than an inch in diameter, about fifteen feet away.
    By the time Archibald said, “Yes,” the sharp end of the flying dart was embedded in the middle of the knothole!
    “I’m deadly accurate at close range with a crossbow,” Willow added excitedly.
    “I familiar with bei nu and ta nu, two type of old Chinese crossbow,” Ming said, nodding his head. “First one shot from back bending over. Other smaller one shot from foot.”
    “No, no,” Willow interrupted. “I use my hands, not my feet. And the crossbow is in front of me when I shoot it, not on my back.”
    “No worry,” Ming said. “You come back in four hour. I have two flying darts ready. Also, I have small metal tips for two arrows, and maybe other surprise for you.”
    Turning to Wu Feng, Willow asked, “But where will we find a high-tech bow and the arrows at one o’clock in the morning?”
    “That my task,”