Descendants of the Dragon, Book One: The Mandate of Heaven

Chapter 4: A Dead Era

"Why can't she just hear how crazy she sounds?" Sam grumbled, as he shoved open the doors to the Historical Museum of Ancient China. He'd probably just lost one of his closest and oldest friends. Maybe Sera would get over their argument in a week or two, but Sam wasn't sure. She was just as stubborn as he was. Maybe even more, come to think of it.

With nothing else to do, he'd decided to visit his dad at the museum. Most kids his age weren't into museums. Most kids his age certainly wouldn't be caught dead at one during a school break, but Sam liked museums for a lot of reasons. For starters, he had practically grown up there. He knew the place inside and out from wandering all over the entire thing thousands of times. It had turned him into a bit of a history nerd. Also, museums were quiet. This museum was his second getaway spot from the world, when life became too complicated.

"Know where you came from," his dad would say over and over. "You were born in Hawaii, and we live in America, but our family will always be Chinese." His mother, however, gently disagreed with this.

Sam loved Chinese history, but he also disagreed. He knew his family had deep ties to China. His dad was from Shanghai, and although his mom had lived in the US for practically her entire life, she was born in Nanjing. Quite a few of his extended family members lived in the states now too, but all the rest were scattered across China.

As far as Sam was concerned, he was just Sam Yen—American, born-and-mostly-raised. His and Martin's English names were proof that their family had moved on to a new chapter in life. Both of his parents had spent years in the US, adjusting to the culture and becoming Americanized before having kids, so he and Martin had been raised with minimal Chinese influence.

But he couldn't deny that ancient China was pretty cool. The museum had an extensive collection of ancient Chinese weapons. He still held onto the hope that one day, his dad might let him take one of the swords out of its glass exhibition case and take a few swings. Knowing the strict museum policies, it was unlikely. The rules applied to everyone, even the curator's son, but it was nice to dream.

Sam skipped the check-in booth. All the staff members were familiar with him on a first-name basis, so no one ever made a move to stop him from just walking in. The security guard, a balding middle-aged man named Mike, gave Sam a nod of greeting.

"Is my dad in?" Sam asked.

"He's taking a phone call," Mike told him. "Sounded pretty heated. You might want to give him a minute."

"Sure," Sam said, already walking away. His dad often took calls from across the globe, many of them from China. The museum was internationally acclaimed for having some of the most rare ancient Chinese artifacts in the world, so his dad was usually pretty swamped with work.

The museum was divided into twelve rooms, each representing one of the major dynasties of China. A few of the rooms, like the Xia Dynasty, which was the very first dynasty, didn't have nearly as many exhibits as the more well-known Han and Tang Dynasties. His dad's office was just outside of the Han Dynasty's room.

Sam stopped at a glass case just on the rim of the Han Dynasty exhibition. In it was the one sword he wanted to swing more than any other. He knew a thing or two about ancient Chinese weapons, and there was no doubt in his mind that the sword before him, the jiàn, was the greatest of them all. The double-edged steel blade was two and a half feet long, narrow, and beautiful in a lethal sort of way. Most swords were only good for either slashing or stabbing, but the jiàn was a versatile sword, capable of being used for both.

The jiàn on display was one of the highlights of the museum, and was well known in the circles of ancient weapons collectors. The jiàn had a unique hilt that branched out like wings. However, it was the blade itself that made the sword so famous. Instead of forged steel, it was made of a seamless length of precisely cut jade, sharpened to a razor's edge. Until it had been authenticated, there had been rumors that it was a fake, as such a perfectly cut piece of rock should've required modern tools.