The Gift

The roads south of the Yangtze were infested with bandits that year. Travelers armed themselves, and merchants traveled in convoys. But Chen, a young swordsman, traveled alone.

One dusk, he came upon a carriage overturned by the roadside. Bandits had fled, leaving a young woman in tears beside the wreckage. Her father lay dead beside the horses.

Chen buried the old man with his own hands. The woman knelt and bowed. "My mother lives in the city ahead," she said. "See me safely there, and I shall reward you."

They walked three days. On the third night, camped by a stream, she drew from her robe a small object no longer than a finger — a tiny sword, exquisitely forged.