Yi shook his head as hard as he could without rattling his goggles. "I'm gonna go save him now", I whispered to Yi. The kind of smile that usually leads to somebody pulling out a dagger. "That's a shame", the bandit said, a genial smile on his face. The old man stared at the bandit, terror slowly replacing itself with resignation.
"You don't really have a chestful of precious stones at home, do you?" Falling over every few hundred steps to stall for time? Give yourself a second to think about how you're gonna get out of this? That's an old trick. "You're old, my friend, but you're not that old. The leader stopped and faced the old man. The tumble was intentional: anyone could tell that. One shoved a gag into the old farmer's mouth, presumably to stop the shouting we'd just heard. Their eyes scanned their surroundings as they marched, on the lookout for any potential ambush. They seemed to take far better care of their blades than themselves. Raggedy clothes hung off their hunched backs, taut with stress. I sighed and looked over the group with a discerning eye. He put a finger to his lips, then pointed at his eyes.
I felt this situation called for a liberal application of hitting people in the head with my staff, but Yi held me back. There were six of them: five bandits and their rope-bound captive, an elderly farmer with anxious eyes. In addition to cutting off the punchline of an incredible joke I'd been telling, Yi made me dive into the thick of a thistleshrub to avoid detection. We were wandering through a forest of man-high mushrooms when we heard the shouting. So when he tells me to choose slow and smart over fast and dumb, I try to listen most of the time. As in: he unsheathes his blade, then there's a blur, then three guys are bleeding on the ground. It's not like the guy is slow, either: he's fast. Yi, humorless as he is, just happens to be one of the best warriors I've ever met.
Lunged for an opening that ended up being a trap.Īnd I'm not being humble. And every time - every single time I ate a mouthful of dirt - I knew it was because I'd gotten impatient. twelve times? Versus the hundreds of times he's walloped me. Through the years we've trained together, I've beaten him in combat something like. The really irritating thing, though: he's usually right. (I did, though, so it all kinda worked out in the end) Because I shoved some inside his boot, thinking he'd find it funny. With a gruff, determined expression on his face, like he stepped in crap. You can be impulsive and quick and improvisational and have fun. Well, I say 'asks', but it's not really a question. When a life hangs in the balance, there are two options: slow and smart, or fast and dumb.
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