In the murky shadows of an alley lies a female’s severed hand. On the tenement rooftop above is the corpse belonging to that hand, a red-haired woman dressed all in black, the body nearly decapitated. Two strands of silver hair — not human — cling to her body. They are Rizzoli’s only clues, but they’re enough for her and medical examiner Maura Isles to make a startling discovery: This violent death had a chilling prequel. Nineteen years earlier, a horrifying murder-suicide in a Chinatown restaurant left five people dead. One woman connected to that massacre is still alive: a mysterious martial arts master who knows a secret she dares not tell, a secret that lives and breathes in the shadows of Chinatown. A secret that may not even be human. Now she’s the target of someone, or something, deeply and relentlessly evil. Cracking a crime resonating with bone-chilling echoes of an ancient Chinese legend, Rizzoli and Isles must outwit an unseen enemy with centuries of cunning — and a swift, avenging blade.

The chant of the saber

Up the seven stars to ride the tiger,

Soaring, turning, dodging as spirits soar,

To become the white crane,

Spreading its wings as it thrusts out a leg.

The wind blows

And  the lotus flower trembles.
Green dragons emerges from the water,
The wind blows the flower.
White clouds move overhead
Black tiger searches the mountain

Use the seven stars to ride the tiger.
Beat the grass to search for the snake on the left,
Beat the grass to search for the snake on the right
Scatter the clouds and see the sun.
The phoenix returns to its nest.
(vraiment passionnant  page-turner) 24 juillet 2012