Funny excerpt from Chapter 4

It was a hazy dawn. Swirling silver mists were veiling the streets; the dew on the green leaves was twinkling; and the air came fresh from the south. The sun had just risen above the far mountains when I reached the eastern gate of Shanghai. Suet-foong was already there, all saddled up and ready to go. Her horse was strong and powerful - a splendid, clean-limbed animal with its glistened black coat, braided mane on its proud neck, and its long tail gliding in the wind; it could give Flash a run for his money!

"You are punctual," I said, looking at my watch. It was 6:50 A.M. We were supposed to meet at seven.

"It's in the genes," replied Suet-foong. She was clad in a leather coat over a sweater and black pants - she seemed to like wearing pants. "Anyway, I have to get up early today to inform my landlady of my long absence and arrange for one of her servants to check on my studio. Luckily, she lives just a couple of blocks away. At the same time, knowing what a money-grubber she is, I paid her the next two months' rent in advance with the two hundred dollars you gave me and kept the rest inside my saddle bag - I feel uncomfortable leaving all that money inside an unoccupied shop."

"Didn't your landlady ask you where you are going on such notice? I suspect she is a nosey-parker; all landladies are."

"Yeah, you are right, she is. I cooked up a story that I have to rush back to Xi'an today because I received a telegram informing me that my mom is seriously ill."

"You should just tell her that you are going for a holiday with the man you love. It's much simpler and it's the truth."

"Hardy ha-ha," she laughed sarcastically.

"Come on, don't be shy. Let me hear those three magical words that would make me float on air on this fine morning."

She kept quiet.

"Well?" I persisted.

"Go hang yourself."

The land, steep and imposing, dwarfed the four of us as snaked through the wilderness. At times it seemed like one misty dreamscape with its endless vista of canyons, trees, and snow peaks. On top of that, the air smelled like a breath mint.

For many hours we rode our steeds in a canter with me leading the way. It was like we were flying with our four-legged companions lending us the wings we lacked. I felt so free - there is nothing else like it in this world. I looked over my shoulder and saw the wind playing with Suet-foong's silky long hair that glowed in the morning sun as it trailed behind her. At the same time I was ogling at her breasts; due to her horse's rocky movement, they were bouncing like jumping jacks.

"What are you doing?" she asked, pulling up beside me.

"Riding, what else?"

"Don't lie! You are looking at my boobs!"

I blushed. "Okay, okay, so I did. Sorry."

"No need to apologize," she said with a smile. "So, do you find them irresistible?"

"Not really."

"Can I believe you?"

"No," I replied, unleashing a face-splitting grin at her.

Be entertained by the above funny excerpt and many more in "Snow Phoenix and Me" by Arthur T. Y. Foo, available now in Amazon.com and Kindle!

Hilarious, poignant, and filled with wonder, it makes a great Christmas gift for your loved one.

SNOW PHOENIX AND ME

Hilarious, poignant, and filled with wonder, it is a story about two star-crossed lovers in old Shanghai when chaos and lawlessness reigned.

Many of its chapters were picked as the "Most Beloved Story" on Avon Romance. 

Purchase outlets: Amazon.com, Kindle, and all major bookstores.

Excerpt:

Her name was Li Suet-foong. She was only twenty-three years old when she died. I affectionately called her my sugarplum; she cheekily baptized me a dumdum. She was beautiful like an angel and fairer than the morning dew. I do not recall her complimenting on my good looks though - I vainly believe I belong to the tall, dark, and handsome category. Her love for adventure suited me just fine for danger is my business. Winter was her favorite season. I asked her why. With a smile she replied she loved the snow, the mandarin oranges, and the lunar New Year. On top of that, she loved me.

I am a liquidator. I have been liquidating people ever since I knew how to hold a gun. It does not matter who my victims are - politicians, underworld big-shots, tycoons - as long as my asking price is met, I send them a one-way ticket to hell, no question asked. But I do not kill children; it is my religion. My clients call me "Mr. Clean", a satirical nickname actually - I am never a morally pure guy, not even by a long shot. Rather, I always do a clean kill: a direct shot to the victim's brain; no suffering and no mess to the other parts of his body.

It was 10:30 P.M. on March 20th, 1913. Despite the passing of winter, the northerly wind was unusually cold. Nonetheless, the sky was clear and the stars were bright. Disguising myself as a porter, I was at Shanghai Railway Station getting ready for my next hit: a young politician named Song Jiao-ren. The place was crowded, but I managed to spot him standing at the platform waiting to board the train to Beijing. He was impeccably dressed in a black western suit, his hair was neatly combed over the top, and his mustache was perfectly trimmed. Calmly, I approached him. Right up to the last moment he did not suspect anything amiss. When our eyes finally met, mine flashed like lightning. Quicker than a wink, I whipped my gun out of my uniform pocket. Only then did he realize that he was targeted for assassination. His face turned pale.

"Y ... You are making a big mistake, friend," he spluttered, overwhelmed by fear to defend himself.

"So sue me," I said, firing at him at point-blank range. He collapsed like a sack of potatoes on the concrete floor - his life was snuffed out instantly.

Subsequently I pumped another two rounds up in the air - those who were deaf to the first shot could definitely hear them now. Utter chaos reigned supreme the next instant: people ran helter-skelter to the exits; women were screaming like banshees; and some hid under the benches or behind the dustbins.

I smirked; that was my plan.

Amid all the confusion, I made my way to the storeroom near to one of the exits. Quickly I went inside, locking the door behind me; I knew this room was empty as I had surveyed it earlier. I changed my attire and discarded the gun into a wastepaper basket. Thirty seconds later, in my white suit and shoes, I was out in the open again.

One more time I smirked; yup, that was another part of my plan. I could now walk past the police cordon that had been thrown around the station, shake hands with the men in blue even, no sweat. They were seeking for a guy in a drab porter uniform, not a smartly-dressed gentleman.

"Wow, that was fast!" said a female voice behind me. It sounded kind of sultry.

I felt my heart skip a beat. Looking over my shoulder I noticed a lean young woman sitting cross-legged on the bench a few paces from where I was. She was clad in men's clothing - long-sleeved striped shirt and pants, her hair drawn to the back of her head like a ponytail, and her eyes had a mischievous glint. A sketch block was on her lap.

She was not part of my plan.

After regaining my composure, I walked toward her. At the same time I cast a glance around the platform - there was still a mad scramble for the exits. I advanced until I stood face to face with the woman, looking over her keenly - God, she was drop-dead gorgeous! She did not stir; she just smiled at me. I then spoke in a hushed tone: "You saw me going into the storeroom? What else did you see?"

"Everything," she whispered back.

"Including the shooting?"

"Yes, I was standing a short distance behind you when you pulled the trigger. Then I followed you here."

"You were not scared at all? I shot a man in cold blood."

"Scared? Nah! Just petrified," she deadpanned. "But I followed you anyway."

"Why?"

"I like your butt."

I was unimpressed. Her attempt at stroking my ego fell flat because I had heard it all before from my lady friends: my bum turned them on. Her honeyed words were just a reaffirmation. On the other hand the thought of her announcing to the whole world that there was a killer with a sexy ass running loose did not appeal to me. Not one bit. Who did she think I was - a frigging pansy? I looked at her in the eyes - they were brown - pondering whether to silence her there and then or not. The decision came fast and furious. It was a no-no; I did not have my gun with me. Damn! One big heavy sigh later, I silently told myself to take it easy. I could kill this nosy broad anytime. In the interim I would work at getting us better acquainted so as to know more about her. Somehow or rather, she intrigued me ... a lot.

"May I know your name?" I asked in my normal deep voice.

"I am Li Suet-foong. And you?"

I extended my hand. "You can call me Ake, short for Akecheta Lung."

"That's a very funny name," she said, standing up to shake it. "Are you Chinese? You look like one to me."

"I am an outcast."

"Huh?"

"I had a Sioux father and a Chinese mother for my parents," I said, clearing up her befuddlement. "When they got killed during the Boxer Rising, I was placed in an orphanage. Because of my darker skin color and my strong American accent then, I looked different in the eyes of the other kids there. They avoided me like a plague, bitching that I was neither Chinese nor a 'foreign devil'. I grew up alone and unwanted."

"Oh, you poor man," she replied. It appeared that she was feeling a gush of pity for me. "Life must have been very tough for you."

"On the contrary I consider it to be a blessing. I wouldn't be what I am today if life had treated me otherwise."

"Goodness me, you like being you-know-what?" she said, making a finger gun gesture.

I laughed - it sounded more like a snort actually. "My ignorant friend, it's either you kill or be killed," I retorted with a swagger. "Shanghai may be called Paris of the Orient but it is one of the most lawless cities on Earth. So what's wrong if I have a gun? In fact it would be good if everybody is armed; we would all be safer. More guns equal less crime. You savvy?"

She listened attentively, looking at me in wonder while nodding in agreement with every word that came out of my mouth; she was completely under my thumb. I hate to praise myself, but boy, was I a smooth talker or what!

A pause later, she tucked the sketch block under her armpit and said, "Okay, let's go to the noodles stall. You are buying me supper." She then headed to the exit nearest to us.

"I am?" I asked, following close behind her. She had a sexy round ass; much better-looking than mine.

"Yes, it's either I eat noodles or I spill the beans; your choice."

I was flabbergasted, but of course. Was it just a jest or a real threat? I could not tell. Thus, there was only one thing to do: I stooped and walked silently behind her like a eunuch accompanying the empress to her destination. I wondered who was under whose thumb now.

About the author:

Arthur T. Y. Foo, who graduated from The Institute of Marketing, United Kingdom with a Diploma in 1980, did not choose writing as his career. Writing chose him and he is happy for it. His first two Natasha novels were nominated for the Readers' Choice Awards.

He is presently residing in Malaysia with his wife, three grown-up children, and a big, hairy dog.

Chapter Fourteen

Finding the goddamn kite was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Worse, it was a spooky task too.

Before us was a big wretched garden with run-down pavilions and a roofless hall. At the rear where concubines of the emperors once occupied the harem, its filthy high walls and dark closed-in alleys were spending out ominous vibes. Twisted, bony trees with spindly branches swayed and groped in the air, their barks diseased with a forging moss. Doors creaked and window shutters rattled on the outside. But once we entered, there was silence, the movement among the branches halted; we had a disturbing feeling that we were being watched with disdain, even animosity.

"Oh, you and your 'kite seekers' nonsense!" grumbled Suet-foong, glancing back over her shoulders as though she was expecting an unwelcome guest.

"Hey, if it wasn't for my brilliant idea, you wouldn't have met the emperor face-to-face," I defended.

"Gosh, my hubby, my hero," she deadpanned.

My last sighting of the kite was in the northerly direction, so we picked a way among the ruins, carefully avoiding the many broken furniture, planks, rodent feces, and other debris on the ground, and headed there. Soon we came to a ramshackle palace; above its entrance the name inscribed on the plaque dripping with spider webs told us it was the Palace of Admirable Benevolence.

"They should rename it the Palace of Abominable Malevolence," quipped my wife, waxing rhymes.

"Why?"

"When I was young, the elders used to tell me stories about the many concubines, each vying with the other for the affection of the last Ming emperor in this Palace," she elaborated. "The contention was so fierce that they would resort to bloodshed to get rid of their rivals - they really hated each other's guts. As a result, many concubines died tragically here."

I swore I heard a faint shriek of a female.

Without wasting any more time, we looked high and low for the emperor's plaything. The air was getting cold, and an icy wind began to blow, hissing over the snowy ground. Our breath was smoking; we were chilled to the bone. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, there was still no sight of the blasted kite. On the other hand, engulfed by the mist, we suddenly had an illusion of the dead following us! Shivering in fear, I started praying to all the gods, even demons, to save our asses. Well, someone did answer my prayers; the next instant, about twenty paces away from us, we found the triangular-shaped paper toy dangling on the lower branch of a tree. Praise the Lord!

I was tall enough to bring it down, thus saving us the trouble to look for a ladder. Then with Suet-foong grasping the kite by its thin wooden frame, we bolted back to the gate and as soon as we were in the clear, I shut the doors behind us. We were panting like a spent hound.

Surrounded by his entourage, Pu Yi was waiting in front of the northern gate. His face filled with anxiety, he kept biting his fingernails while being carried in a chair by four eunuchs. When he saw Suet-foong holding his precious kite, his expression changed; he began to grin from ear to ear. We hurriedly went over and knelt before him.

"Your kite, Your Majesty," said Suet-foong, passing the toy to Chang Chien-ho who gave it to his master with outstretched arms.

"Your Majesty will be pleased to know that there is no damage to the kite," I added. "It's as good as new."

"Excellent! Excellent!" replied the boy emperor, patting his plaything lovingly as if it were a puppy. "And what are your names?"

"I'm called Snow Phoenix," answered my wife.

Not to be outdone, I said, "And I am Fighting Dragon."

I expected the emperor to be in awe of our lofty mythical names. To my disappointment, he was not. Damn, he was one cool cat.

"Snow Phoenix and Fighting Dragon, for your courageous act in retrieving my kite, both of you shall be rewarded," said the Son of Heaven in a commanding tone. "Do you like me to grant you a title?"

"We're not title-crazy people, Your Majesty," replied Suet-foong. "However, it would be a great honor for us to shake your hand."

Pu Yi was caught unawares by her simplistic request. Frankly, so was I. Having the title of "Duke" before my name has always been one of my ultimate dreams; it sounds much better than "Master", don't you agree? But since Suet-foong had spoken before I could open my mouth, I decided to stand by her like a good husband always would, even if it meant banging my head against the wall tonight for letting this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip by.

"Very well then," said the emperor. He got down from the chair and extended his hand to Suet-foong who gleefully shook it. Then to her pleasant surprise, he kissed her cheeks. "Consider this a bonus," he said with a playful wink.

Snow Phoenix was over the moon.

He came to my side and shook mine. We looked at each other. Just before he blew a raspberry at me, he said, "I'm not kissing you."

I stand corrected: he was one cool, cheeky cat.

And with that, we parted. The Lord of Ten Thousand Years, happy as a lark now, returned to his seat and was promptly carried away, eventually vanishing into the thick mist that slowly crept through the Palace of Heavenly Purity. The day was waning. After shouldering my knapsack, I glanced at my watch: it was half past two.

"We still have another two hours or so of sunlight left," I said. "If we hurry, we can be back at the house before sunset."

"Good idea, I don't fancy socializing with the ghosts here," she gagged before abruptly running off. "Race you to the Outer Meridian Court - the loser buys dinner."

"Hey, not fair! You had a head start!" I cried out as I lagged far behind her. Holy torpedo, she certainly had light and nimble feet!

"Are you scared of losing to me?" she shouted back.

"I never lose!"

"I've got news for you: there is always the first time for everything!"

In the end I let her win but of course; I intentionally pull back whenever I was a few paces away from her. I do not know why I did that. Could it be because I am a sweet-loving son-of-a-gun? Whatever the reason, I felt it was more important that we, especially her, enjoyed the moments, puffing and laughing all the way - it revived pleasant memories of that wonderful day in Hangzhou when we ran on the shoreline of the West Lake.

After a short rest, we headed for the stable. Suet-foong was suddenly quiet. I found that quite unusual for she was always a chatterbox, more so, with her victory over me. Furthermore, she seemed to be dragging her feet.

Finally, when we were about to mount our horses, she asked, "Hey, Ake, how strong are you?"

"Strong enough to carry a buffalo," I replied, flexing my biceps.

"Yeah, that's what I figured."

"Why? Are you tired?"

"No ... actually I am in pain," she groaned.

Instantaneously I bore her in my arms. "Your leg cramps bothering you again?"

"Worse, my whole back feels like it has been cut by a thousand hot knives. I think you'd better take me to the doctor."

Luckily, the kind, elderly stable owner who had witnessed the whole incident, helped me to wave down a rickshaw. He then instructed the driver to quickly take us to Beijing General Hospital which was about three miles away.

During those few anxious moments in the rickshaw, my mind was in a flurry. I looked at my darling wife, her face all screwed up in agony. She was cuddling against me. I kissed her forehead; oh, God, what was happening to her?

"Hey, driver, can you go a little faster, please?" I asked the young coolie. "My wife is in great pain."

"I'm doing my best, sir," he answered.

"Your best is not good enough. Tell you what. I'll triple your fare if you can be at the hospital in five minutes."

He took off like a bat out of hell.

When we finally reached our destination - the driver made it in four minutes flat - Suet-foong was immediately wheeled to the emergency ward on a stretcher. I was told to go to the waiting room located nearby. There, I saw a few other visitors sitting on the bench, and just like me, they were on pins and needles. The depressing white naked walls and the chilly environment did little to steady my nerves. Besides, the strong antiseptic smell that clung to my nose hairs reeked of illness and mortality; I hated this place.

As the clock ticked away, I sat idly looking at the concrete floor punctuated with short walks to the reception counter and back, focusing on nothing at all; my mind was a complete blank. People came. A few left. Many stayed. There was a constant drone of voices about me; whispered words and tears in one corner, happy conversation in another. As I waited and waited, the world outside went on as usual ... it sure felt queer.

At long last, after what seemed to be an eternity, I saw Suet-foong entering the waiting room; she was all right! I was elated. I rushed over and gave her a bear hug.

"Hey, go easy on the hug, Ake!" said my wife. "Any tighter and I would have to return to the ward with broken ribs!"

"Oh, sorry," I apologized, quickly loosening my grip. "It's just that ..."

She put her hand on my lips to cut me off. "I know; you're forgiven." Then she kissed me.

"I've given her an injection to alleviate her pain," said a male voice.

I was so caught up with the hugging and the kissing that I did not notice a doctor standing behind her. Bespectacled, lean, and in his fifties, he introduced himself as Dr. William Loh.

"So, what's wrong with my wife?" I asked as I shook his hand.

"That we intend to find out," he replied, flashing a smile, "but she needs to undergo a series of tests. For this to proceed, we require your consent."

The word "tests" sounded so obscene to me; it was as if he wanted Suet-foong to act as a guinea pig for a new vaccine or something. But there seemed to be no other options available for us. "Doc, there is no need to ask me, my wife's the boss," I said. "Whatever she wants she gets. And right now she wants her sickness licked. Get it?"

"Yes, I got it. There would be a fee involved of course. And it's quite on the high side. Think you can afford to pay the bill?"

"Money is not a problem," I said, raising my voice. Bloody hell, did I look like a frigging pauper to this man? My feathers were ruffled by his lack of tact. "Just give her your best attention, your best care, your best nurses, everything." I was behaving like a snob.

"You can be certain of that," he assured me, his smile never leaving his roundish face. "Please come back tomorrow morning at seven o'clock. We shall have all the necessary equipment and manpower ready for the procedure by then."

"Fine, we'll see you when we see you," said Suet-foong, making an attempt at humor.

"Right, and one more thing, Mrs. Akecheta: to obtain a more accurate diagnosis of your ailment, don't take your breakfast."

"Sure, doc, I'll eat only air."

Chapter Thirteen - (Part 2 of 2)

I glanced at my wife; she was already in idolization mode.

"Behave," I admonished her. "Don't go throwing yourself at his feet and embarrass the two of us!"

"Yes, Papa dearest," she teased me.

Much to our dismay, the emperor, who seemed agitated over something, shot past us as if we were transparent. In that instant, I noticed that he was holding a ball of string; putting two and two together, I came to the conclusion that he was chasing after the runaway kite. He only stopped and turned around when we kowtowed to him with me saying aloud: "Your humble servants pay their respects to the Lord of Ten Thousand Years. Is Your Majesty searching for your kite?"

Walking round in circles, he looked at us more closely; he must have realized that we were not eunuchs. "Yes, the string snapped," he finally answered in his squeaky voice, "and who are you?"

"We are kite seekers."

"You are?" asked the Son of Heaven, standing dumbfounded before us.

"We are?" whispered Suet-foong, gawking at me.

"Oh yes, the gods knew of your dilemma and they have summoned me and my wife here to help Your Majesty," I said, maintaining a poker face. Others might not believe my cockamamie statement, but for Pu Yi who was just a seven-year-old kid, he just ate it up.

"Goody! Goody!" said the little emperor, beaming with delight. "So you know where the kite is right now?"

I nodded, pointing to the eastern gate.

His happy countenance turned to horror. "Oh no, not there!" he exclaimed.

"What's the matter?" I asked, startled by his sudden change of reaction.

"That place is haunted!"

By this time, his pigtailed eunuchs, with their distinctive androgynous appearance, had gathered around us, some of them eyeing lecherously at my beautiful wife - confirming my suspicion that even without their manhood, these half-men were still lusty buggers. My wife, however, took no notice of their stares for her focus was only on the emperor. Although I was peeved by her adulation of the youngster, I could not really blame her; it is not every day one can get to meet Pu Yi. He, like emperors before him, was regarded as a sacred personage by the Chinese. On the contrary, I considered this Son of Heaven to be just another son-of-a-gun.

"Haunted?" I asked with some skepticism. "Surely, Your Majesty is joking."

"No, no, it is true!" he retorted. "My Grand Eunuch Chang Chien-ho told me that there are ghosts and she-devils in every corner of that accursed place. Had not a piece of iron over the gate kept them in, they would have come out."

Hearing his name mentioned, the middle-aged eunuch with a slight hunchback approached us, moving with a dramatic gait, leaning forward as he walked and taking short, mincing steps with his feet turned out. "No one dares to go in there, Your Majesty. Please let your humble slave make you a new kite," he said in a falsetto voice.

"I don't want a new kite! I want this kite! You hear me? I don't care how you do it, but I want this kite!" wailed the Lord of Ten Thousand Tears. Yup, trust the spoiled brat to throw a tantrum.

Chang Chien-ho's face went as white as death itself. He and the rest of the eunuchs prostrated themselves before their master, trembling in fear; they were totally at a loss about what to do next.

It was up to us kite seekers to save the day.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Your Majesty," I placated him, "my wife and I will retrieve your precious kite."

Pu Yi's eyes lit up. "You will?" he asked, wiping away his tears.

"We will?" asked Suet-foong, gazing stupidly at me again. She also seemed to be struck by the two-word syndrome.

"Yes, of course!" I said confidently. "We're not afraid of ghosts." Then, holding the hands of my somewhat apprehensive other half, we made our way to the eastern gate. With jittery nerves, Pu Yi and the eunuchs followed close behind.

When we reached the gate, we saw that its wooden doors were thickly plastered with strips of sealing paper, clearing indicating that it had not been opened for decades. I gestured to Chang Chien-ho - he, Pu Yi, and the rest had by now kept a safe distance from the two of us - to get one of his eunuchs carry my knapsack while I peeled the strips off. A young, thin fellow finally nipped forward, took my pack, and scooted back to the group.

"You Chinese are a superstitious lot," I scoffed, my sight on my wife. "There's no such thing as ghosts; they are just fantasy stuff!"

"Don't be so cocksure, Ake," retorted Suet-foong. It looked like her full vocabulary had returned to her. "Did you not feel their presence while we were passing through the gates a while back? Or have you forgotten about it?"

There was a pause. I shuddered. She was right - it did slip my mind.

"Yes, I felt them, but so what? Those who fear ghosts have got weak minds," I said boldly. It was mere rhetoric, of course; I was more concerned about saving face than admitting I was scared stiff!

When the peeling was done, I removed the rusty iron bar which was pinned to the doors. Then with a mighty kick from yours truly, the doors swung open, unfolding the dusty, cobwebbed interior to us. The air smelled of phantom perfume. I could hear loud gasps coming from Pu Yi and his eunuchs. To assure them that everything was okay, I made a thumbs-up gesture; they reciprocated with nervous smiles.

Turning my attention back to Suet-foong, I said, "Let's go in."

She cowered. "Err ... after you, O brave one."

I gulped. Taking my first step into the compound, my tummy seemed to be tying itself in knots. All of a sudden something touched my shoulder. It felt horribly cold. The next thing I knew I was screaming my head off. Suet-foong nearly had a heart attack. And Pu Yi and the half-men fled in all directions, some wailing for their mothers, some pleading for mercy.

Looking angrily at me, Suet-foong barked, "It was just a frigging falling branch, you idiot!"

"Oh, sorry," I whimpered in embarrassment.

Great Caesar's Ghost! How in hell did I get myself into this mess?

Chapter Thirteen - (Part 1 of 2)

Two days later, Suet-foong and I were finally off. The Forbidden City, a forty-minute ride on horseback from our place, was on top of our list of places to visit. As we galloped eastward to the city center, we saw that the chilly December wind had scattered the mist and the sunrays were piercing through the snow-covered branches of the trees. It was indeed a lovely morning. Even lovelier was my wife; she looked radiant. Gone were her migraine headaches and leg cramps. I was so glad.

The majestic Forbidden City, the world's biggest palace and home to twenty-four emperors spanning nearly five hundred years, sat at the heart of the metropolis. A massive rectangular-shaped structure, it had a 150-feet-wide moat and 30-feet-high walls that ran for almost three miles round what was known as "the Great Within" - a city of walls within walls. Colossal gates, magnificent halls, and grand pavilions were set on marble platforms amid huge courtyards. Suet-foong and I deemed it a treasure house of the finest creations of Chinese culture.

Just before we entered the first of many sets of gates, I lifted my eyes up to the gate-towers, imagining how a few hundred years ago another visitor might have quivered at the very same spot and felt the intimidating strength and power emanating from the towering vermilion walls. Once inside, there was a wide open square cut by a bow-shaped stream, straddled in its middle stretch by five arched bridges. Up ahead, I gazed in amazement the white marble balustrades that swept upward to the glowing golden roofs of the big hall; its sloping ridges sculptured with dragons, phoenixes, and other mystical creatures. In silhouette against the rising sun, they added to my sense of being in a dream.

"Stop daydreaming, Ake," said Suet-foong.

Her voice brought me out of my musing. "You knew?" I asked, looking at my wife.

"Your eyes are glassy."

"Yeah," I nodded, "the grandeur of this palace makes it impossible not to dream about days gone by when we ruled the world."

"Now our country is akin to a large cheesecake being cut into slices by greedy foreigners," she concluded with a sigh.

"I didn't know you were into politics."

"Are you kidding?" she replied, rolling her eyes. "You know how much I detest politics. It is worse than war. In the battlefield you can only be killed once, but in politics so many times that even your mother cannot recognize you."

"Well said," I clapped, agreeing with her without reservation.

We came to the courtyard that was opened to the public. With vendors and government offices as its tenants, there was no way we could avoid the knots of people, vehicles, and animals clustered here. I groaned; we felt so cramped. After the abdication of seven-year-old Pu Yi, the last emperor of China, on February 12th, 1912, the front portion of the palace had been requisitioned by the new republican government. Naming it the Outer Meridian Court, another wall was built to separate it from the Inner Meridian Court where the young emperor and his family now lived.

Leaving our horses at a stable, we hot-footed it to the next massive gate leading to the Inner Meridian Court with me carrying a knapsack containing sandwiches and a flask of water on my shoulder - we expected a very long walk inside the palace. There were a dozen guards at the gatehouse; no one was permitted to go beyond this point except with a specially issued  pass which I had - Ducky, through his connections with the palace officers, managed to obtain one for me and my wife. When the guards saw my pass, they allowed us to enter.

Once we crossed over, we saw another big courtyard, another hall, and another huge gate before us. The only difference was the emptiness and deafening silence which were in stark contrast with the frenzied activity of the Outer Meridian Court. There were also many dilapidated buildings - the centuries had certainly taken their toll - but age and dust only added to its charm. Under fresh snow, when the chili red walls were tempered by drifts of glittering white, and sunshine fell on dusty shafts on the deserted square, the palace looked so remote, so timeless.

As we moved from one gate to another, passing through the narrow corridor lanes between the high blank walls, we could not help feeling spirits of the past tailing after us. Wraiths were moving quietly across the pavement in satin shod feet. And voices murmured in the shadows. Did something of those astral presences stay behind from the ceaseless procession of concubines, eunuchs, and maidservants who, during the imperial days, were always going back and forth in the Forbidden City? Just thinking about it made the hair at the back of our necks stood up, yet in the same breath we were thrilled beyond words.

It was past midday when we drew near an open space with gates to the east, west, and north. Feeling hungry, we halted under the shade of the northern gate. There was a frost in the air and the sky was a pale clear blue.

"I never imagine that the Forbidden City is so vast!" remarked Suet-foong as she ate her sandwich which was prepared by Ah Lan this morning. "We have been walking for almost two hours, passing through one big wall and beneath one gatehouse after another, to find beyond it only a featureless avenue leading to yet another wall and gate. Goodness me! When will it end?"

"Pretty soon, we're almost at the rear portion of the City," I replied. "Behind this gate is the Palace of Heavenly Purity where the Son of Heaven resides and continues to hold illusory court."

"Wow, do you think we will bump into young Pu Yi today?" she asked excitedly. "That would be the highlight of this trip!"

"Definitely; he is not going anywhere. One of the articles providing for the favorable treatment of the Qing emperor after his abdication stipulated that he can't leave the palace."

"Yes!" Snow Phoenix yelped, fist pumping in hysterical joy. She then took out the lipstick from her jacket and colored her lips.

Unduly inquisitive,I asked, "What's going on?"

"I got to make myself pretty, we're meeting the emperor, you know!"

"Gee, I don't recall you being this emotionally aroused when you first met me."

"Do I detect a tinge of jealousy in your voice?"

"Hell, yes!" I said. Being her husband, I reckon I had every right to turn into the green-eyed monster. "What has that little rascally emperor got that I don't?"

She smirked. "Well, for starters ..."

"Not another word, Suet-foong," I cut her off, wise to her witty remark to my question. "Not. Another. Word."

When lunch was over and my knapsack trussed up, we pressed on. We were about to reach the throne hall when a shadow flew past above us. Gazing up, we saw a big yellow kite with a dragon design being blown toward the eastern flank of the Palace by the strong wind. And there it fell out of sight behind the walls. Moments later, heavy feet were heard in the corridor. We moved forward in great anticipation. Suddenly, a small human figure, clad in yellow dragon robes, appeared in the chamber. Behind him a few dozen eunuchs clustered in the doorway. His moon-shaped face was fair; his lips were thick; and his big, expressive eyes sparkled like pearls. He was none other than Emperor Pu Yi!

To be continued ...

Chapter Twelve

It was not an auspicious start for our long-awaited vacation. Suet-foong suddenly got an attack of migraine, compelling us to stay at the house for the first couple of days. But being a happy-go-lucky couple, we took her ailment in our stride and could even afford to make a joke out of it.

"Hey, Suet-foong, I thought your headaches only occur during the warm season."

"They went rogue."

"You should see a doctor."

"Aw, give me a break! It'll make my migraine worse when I get the bill."

Every cloud has a silver lining and we found one in Ah Lan. Twenty-nine years old, soft-spoken, and illiterate, she was Ducky's sister-in-law. After her husband died of illness, Ducky came to her aid, providing her with board and lodging. In return, she had to stay beholden to him, becoming his unpaid servant, so to speak. Life was not a bed of roses for our housekeeper who was orphaned since childhood, but she remained optimistic, treating everyone she met with care and kindness, safe in the knowledge that one day someone might do the same for her. Thus, when she saw that Suet-foong was unwell, she went out of her way to look for herbs in the woods. Then, from the selected herbs, she brewed a concoction for my wife to drink to ease the pain. Always cheerful and energetic, she was genuinely happy to wait on us; perhaps our leniency toward her had something to do with her chirpy demeanor. We felt so blessed to having her around.

By the third day, Suet-foong was up and about again. The herbs seemed to have nursed her back to health. Or was it the beauty and magic of the snowfall which began this morning that swept away her illness? Maybe I was wrong, but I always felt there was an affinity between her and the snow; she was named Snow Phoenix for a reason, you know.

After donning our jackets and gloves, we came out of the house and watched the little, soft flakes floating down like feathers from the sky, enwrapping the woods in white; it was a picturesque vista of a winter wonderland. Our emotions of joy and awe ran high the next moment. Snow Phoenix ran to the middle of the white field and got me in the face with a snowball.

"Why, you little bitch!" I screamed in mock anger. "This is war!"

"You're bound to lose!" she retorted with a giggle, playfully bombarding me with more snowballs. This time I got hit in the ears, eyes, mouth, and even my groin. Oh my God, her attack was like greased lightning; I was splattered with a mass of cold, powdery snow even before I could make my first snowball. I may be a terrific liquidator, but when it comes to a snowball fight I am a sure goner.

At this juncture the wise man always says, "When defeat is imminent, there is only one thing to do: run like hell!" Okay, okay, I made that up. Even a dumdum has wisdom, agree? And so there I was, scurrying for cover with her chasing after me like a bloodhound. The snow was now knee-deep and it crunched under our feet as we raced across the field. Our breaths were hanging in the air. Our noses tingled from the cold. We laughed. We yelled. We went wild. You can bet your last dollar we were delighted beyond measure. It is moments like this that we forget we are adults and let the kid inside us rule our lives once more!

Fifteen minutes later, the assault from my soul mate stopped. No, she did not run out of ammunition. It was more like she had run out of gas! Her timing was perfect; I was exhausted too. We slumped to the snowy ground, closed our eyes, and felt ourselves being hit with ice crystals.

After a short rest, I sat up and looked at Suet-foong who was still on all fours. "Hey, Sugarplum, what can possibly top the good time we've had today?" I asked her.

"Explore the Forbidden City and climb the Great Wall," she enthused.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I agreed whole-heartedly. "They will be in our itinerary tomorrow!"

"And what are we going to do in the meantime? We still have half a day left."

When I did not reply, she finally opened her eyes and was shocked to see me standing on top of her. I was grinning like the devil. In my hands were snowballs, lots of snowballs. From where she was lying, she knew she could not escape me. As my snowballs rained on her, she shrieked like a wrung hen.

"Vengeance is mine!" I cried, looking at the sky in triumph.

My momentary lapse of concentration on her was going to cost me dearly.

Seeing her chance, she tripped me. Like a thunderbolt I fell. Quickly she got up and recommenced her assault; we were back to square one.

"You were saying?" she scoffed.

Damn! I should have quit while I was ahead!

By the time we were done with the snowball fight, it had stopped snowing. The sky was the bluest of blue and the frosty land glistened under the sun. We next challenged each other to make the biggest snowman in the shortest time. Needless to say, I won this game hands down. However, I did not flatter myself, for I suspected she lost on purpose so that I had one saving grace. Yeah, my brown-eyed lady was absolutely a good sport!

Then disaster struck.

Suet-foong yelped in pain, clutching the back of her legs, and collapsed in a heap. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Rushing over to her side and wiping the snow from her pale face, I frantically called out her name. Panic-stricken, I did not know what else to do. To my big relief, she woke up before letting out a muffled groan.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" I asked, my body quivering like a tuning fork.

"I ... I don't know," she replied slowly, obviously still in a disorientated state. "All of a sudden I felt a sharp pain on my legs. Everything went blank following that." 

"Are you all right now?"

"Yeah, yeah, the pain's gone, but my legs feel like jelly at the moment," she replied, looking annoyed. "I can't understand it. I'd never felt this way before."

"I think it is just a bad case of leg cramps," I comforted her, and the same time comforted myself too. I refused to believe that it could be anything worse than that. "We've been out in the cold the whole morning."

"Yeah, yeah, that must be it," she nodded.

"Let's get back to the house," I said as I helped her to her feet. She appeared to have pulled herself together. "I'll carry you."

"I can walk," she objected, limping away.

"No, you can't," I protested, scooping her in my arms.

"My, my, a knight in shining armor!" she smiled. "Think you can take the weight? You might be carrying two persons, you know."

"Huh?" I blinked. "What do you mean 'two persons'?"

"Did it ever occur to you that I might be having a baby?"

I nearly dropped her.

"Aha! Shocked you, didn't I?" she said.

"Yeah, but don't get me wrong. My shock is not of horror; it's more like profound happiness," I clarified.

"I know," she chuckled.

"So, are you really having a baby?"

"No, but we can make one tonight if you like."

She was back to her mischievous self as usual.

Chapter Eleven - (Part 3 of 3)

"Ducky, for your info, my hubby is planning to hang up his gun and get a new lease on life," interposed Suet-foong. "Anyway, why would he want to kill you when all of us are friends?"

"You're right, I'm being absurd," answered Ducky, wiping away the sweat on his forehead with his handkerchief. "Perhaps I should explain myself. As tea is a very lucrative trade here, we would do anything, even murder, to get a bigger piece of the pie. I guess you're very well aware that when it comes to law and order, Beijing fares no better than Shanghai. Lately, the competition has become so intense that less than a month ago, the boss of Best Tea Company was assassinated. Then last week another one got smoked. Yesterday my associate was blown to pieces by dynamites hidden beneath his car. Someone in our fraternity has resorted to hiring a hit man called Mr. Clean to get rid of his rivals. Who knows, I might be the next victim. That's why I panicked when Ake mentioned his profession - it had a bad psychological effect on me."

Suet-foong who knew I am Mr. Clean was taken aback. I frowned; I did not like the idea of another liquidator misusing my namesake.

"How do you know the hit man is called Mr. Clean?" I asked.

"He left his calling card behind after each kill," replied Ducky. "He seems to be advertising himself for his services."

"Hmm ... interesting," I said, characteristically rubbing my chin in intrigue.

Our host then got up and bade goodbye - it was music to our ears. "Oh, before I forget, there are a couple of horses in the stable for your travelling convenience," he made it known to us when he shook our hands. "And if you wish to contact me, there's a telephone in the house. Ah Lan knows my number." We thanked him and escorted him to the door.

"Good day, my friends," he waved while walking back to his car with Cai Gan-toh, who, we were told by him, acted as his bodyguard too. "Have a pleasant stay in Beijing."

"We will, goodbye," said Suet-foong, returning his wave.

"And good riddance," I muttered, smiling a saintly smile.

When we were alone in our plush and spacious bedroom, my loving wife asked me in a cheeky kind of way: "Hey, Ake, how come you never told me about your protege?"

"That's because I don't have one," I replied, feeling quite upset - no, not with her, but with the impostor. "Damn! This is clearly a sham and I'm going to get to the bottom of it. My reputation is at stake here."

"For heaven's sake, stop making a big deal out of this issue. We made a promise to each other on the train that we would put our work on the back burner and just sit back, relax, and enjoy life in Beijing, remember?"

There was a pause. I gazed at her, my brain working overtime on a sharp rejoinder for her statement. But the effort proved futile. She knew perfectly well that I would never go back on my word.

"Goddammit!" I cussed in frustration.

"Well now, that's very eloquent," said Suet-foong sarcastically.

"What am I supposed to say - 'hallelujah'?"

"No, just say you like Beijing."

"Why?"

"Because I do," she replied. "Okay?"

"Okay."