Fang Yu escorted them to a simple stone room, a monk's cell. There were no windows, only a bare cot and floor rugs for warmth. A yak-butter candle guttered in a wall niche.
"Leave us, cat-eater," Chiun told the Chinese woman coldly.
Fang Yu withdrew, her face turning crimson.
"Enter, O slave," Chiun said.
Remo did as he was told.
"Sit."
Remo sat on the cot.
"I like you better this way," Chiun cackled, closing the door behind him. "Heh heh heh."
Remo said nothing.
"Have you nothing to say?" Chiun murmured.
"How about blow it out your backside?"
"How about you keep a civil tongue!" Chiun spat. "No," he added quickly, "you will keep a civil tongue, Remo. I command this. No more will you insult me. In fact, you will immediately apologize."
"I immediately apologize," Remo said humbly.
Chiun blinked. "No, say 'I apologize profusely,' " he said.
"I apologize profusely."
Chiun started. "This is unbelievable. Have you no harsh words for me?"
"I have plenty," Remo growled, "but you won't let me say them."
Chiun raised a long-nailed finger. "Awesome Magnificence. I prefer to be addressed as Awesome Magnificence."
"Awesome Magnificence," Remo said flatly.
Chiun approached. He looked Remo over carefully. Pushing back one ear, he felt the skin. Remo couldn't feel his probing nail, so he knew it was the skin patch Chiun touched.
With a tug, Chiun removed it.
"Ouch!" Remo complained, reaching for the back of his neck.
"This is a strange device," Chiun said, examining the circular Band-Aid-like pad.
"It's a skin patch," Remo explained. "People wear them when they're seasick. They time-release drugs through the pores. "
"Are you still under its wicked influence?" Chiun wondered.
"I don't know."
"Clap your hands," Chiun commanded.
Remo clapped.
"It must wear off eventually," Chiun said. He replaced it, saying, "For now, I will leave it there. Say thank you."
"Thank you, Awesome Magnificence."
"Do you mean this?"
"No!"
"Then you are not welcome," Chiun sniffed. "This is not like you, Remo."
"Not like me!" Remo said hotly. "You're the one who took off to Outer Mongolia without even leaving a freaking note!"
"Ah," Chiun said. "I have much to explain to you."
"I don't want to hear it."
"Speak your heart."
"I'm dying to hear every word, Awesome Magnificence."
Chiun beamed. "Then I shall enlighten you," he said, going to the door. He listened intently. Hearing no eavesdroppers, he settled onto the rug. He patted the bare spot before him and said, "Sit at my knee, Remo."
Remo obeyed.
Sitting face-to-face, their legs locked in identical lotus positions, the Master of Sinanju began to speak.
"Think not I abandoned you, or America, through spite or neglect or any of those base motives."
"Why did you?"
"When you told me of the impossible footprints, I had an inkling that the mandarin Wu Ming Shi still lived. And knowing that he sought Zhang Zingzong, I knew his motives must be weighty. I confronted Zhang and wrung from him the secret of the teak box he carried with him from China." "Yeah?"
"It contained the silvered skull of Targutai, one of the advisers of Temujin, known to you as Genghis Khan. For when Lord Genghis died, he was buried in a secret place atop Mount Burkan Kaldun. And those who attended him in life-indeed those who knew of his burial place-were all put to the sword to hide forever the sacred burial place of Temujin."
"Wouldn't it have been better to cremate him and scatter his ashes over the water?"
"Mongols are very traditional. It is not done." Chiun's eyes twinkled. "I like that about Mongols."
"They're okay," Remo said. "Except for Kublai."
"What do you know of Kublai Khan?"