Chapter Four - (6)

"Interesting," said Suet-foong when I showed her the article. She had just come out of the bathroom wearing a pair of striped pajamas. She smelled of carnations.

"Yes, indeed it is."

"You know what is even more interesting?"

My curiosity was piqued. "No. What?"

She passed me back the newspaper and pointed at the spot where the name of the reporter was printed. "It was Chen Yi-seng who filed in the story. He was the dead man we saw back in the woods!"

"You're quick-sighted as a cat! I was so engrossed with the false reporting that I didn't notice his name."

"I see a conspiracy of the highest level," she opined, snuggling happily under the covers of her bed. She was her turn to sound like Sherlock Holmes. "I see someone hiring Chen Yi-seng to concoct a fictional tale and killing him afterward so that the truth would not be be revealed."

"Your point is well taken," I said, reading the news once more. "But why is he doing this?"

"I see this mastermind to be a very slick, cunning person. I see this as an attempt to lure you out in the open to be killed as well."

"A commendable perception. I applaud to that. And I've a strong hunch this mastermind is none other than President Yuan. How do you see it?"

There was no reply.

"I said how do you see it?"

No reply again. I tore myself away from the paper and looked at her. She was already snoring like a trooper.

"I see a sleeping beauty," I chortled.

To be continued ...

Chapter Four - (5)

As soon as we stepped inside, Suet-foong was held spellbound by the lobby's glitzy chandeliers and polished marble floors. It was a classy sight for my wealth-challenged girlfriend. I had to drag her to the reception desk where an elderly chubby man with a cheery-looking face greeted us. "Good morning, sir and ma'am. Welcome to Traveler's Palace. My name's Old Lai. I am the manager here. How can I be of service to you two?"

"A twin-bedded room preferably with a bath and stabling for our horses, if you please," I replied, filling out the registration form.

"That would be six dollars per night, sir."

"Fine, we will take it."

Old Lai nodded and rang the hand bell. But no one came. He rang again. Still, there was not a soul in sight. "Ah Tong! Ah Tong!" he finally shouted. "Where are you, you tone-deaf slowpoke?"

"Coming, boss, coming!" responded a thin young lad who came rushing out of seemingly nowhere. Upon seeing Suet-foong and me, he stopped short and gave us a shy smile.

"There are a couple of horses that need to be stabled," said Old Lai in a commanding voice. "Find a place for them. Move it on the double!"

Ah Tong shot off faster than a speeding bullet.

Turning his attention back to us, the manager said, "Sorry about that, sir. Ah Tong can be a bit inattentive at times, but he is a good worker. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, your room; we've got one with a bath in the south wing on the first floor that would suit you both just fine. Please follow me."

He led us to a passage and along the way we bypassed a restaurant-cum-bar. I took a quick peek inside and saw a big gathering of mostly men, many of them drinking, laughing, and singing a merry song. Suet-foong and I stopped for a moment or two listening to the many joyful voices joining in the chorus before catching up with Old Lai.

Finally we reached our room. Old Lai opened the door, switched on the lights, and passed me the room key. It was spacious and clean. There were two big beds, a cupboard, and a round table with a couple of wooden chairs. The bathroom was at the back. "I hope you will find your stay here comfortable," he said. "Would you like a drink or some food perhaps?"

"Yes, we'd like to have our dinner in the room if it is possible," I replied. "I don't fancy the crowd in your restaurant. What's in the menu?"

"That can be arranged, no problem at all. As for the menu, we are having stewed pork, fried chicken, and steamed fish tonight."

"Sounds good; we'd like to place an order for all of them, and a pot of your best wine. Please make it quick. We are famished!"

"Thank you, sir," the manager said with a smile. "Ah Tong will bring the food and wine to you in no time at all. Now if you would excuse me, I must be moving along. It's a tough job running here and there and I'm not getting any younger. Unfortunately, I can't do much about it. There is no one else to man the desk and the kitchen. We are terribly short of staff here at the moment. But don't you worry about a thing; I can assure you that our services are still topnotch. Have a pleasant evening."

Off he went, leaving us rather impressed with him. Despite up to his neck in his work, he was quite chatty and full of hospitality.

After the appetizing meal, I sat by the window sipping my cup of wine and getting ready to go through the complimentary paper; I did not have the chance to read the news before I left the house this morning. Suet-foong was having a shower. The waxing moon was slowly climbing above the hill; a thick smoky mist came drifting before my eyes, blurring the trees and the houses. It was a cold night.

When I saw the front-page headline, my jaws dropped a good three inches. It screamed "SONG JIAO-REN'S KILLER CAUGHT!" in big bold letters. According to the report, the killer was an ex-soldier named Shek-yau who held a grudge against Song. I frowned; there was not an ounce of truth in it. This poor guy was made a scapegoat for the police's failure to nab the real assassin: yours truly. On the other hand I felt quite relieved; it meant I was no more on the radar of Song's people.

To be continued ...

Chapter Four - (4)

"W ... What's wrong?" I spluttered. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"Look over there," she said, pointing to my left. "There is a leg sticking out of the thicket and there is blood on the ground!"

"My God, you are right!" I replied, peering at the spot where she had indicated. Quickly recollecting myself, I drew my gun from my shoulder holster. "Stay where you are. I'll go and investigate."

I ran toward the body and saw a man lying face down. His blood-stained jacket was riddled with bullets. I knelt beside him, turning him over. He was not breathing. Young, short, and narrow-shouldered, his hair was closely cropped, and he got a mole below the right side of his nose. By my reckoning he had been dead for at least a day. I went through his pockets. There was a wallet containing some money and a press card.

"Is he still alive?" she asked in a nervous tone.

"Nope, this guy's deader than a doornail."

"Any idea as to who he was?"

"His name was Chen Yi-seng," I replied, looking at the press card. "I believe he was a reporter."

I got up and snooped around the area. When I was satisfied that the coast was clear, I replaced my gun. Thereafter I ran back to Suet-foong's side. "This is not a classic case of highway robbery," I said, rubbing my chin.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Elementary, my dear Suet-foong, elementary," I answered, sounding like Sherlock Holmes. "There was no sign of a struggle. His money was intact. I suspect he was killed by someone he knew in another place and his body dumped here to be eaten by wild animals."

She made a face. "That's a sickening thing to do!"

"So what else is new? Come on ... let's get back to our horses. All of a sudden the forest does not look that enchanting anymore."

We rode off silently into the evening, galloping downhill and up again, until at last we noticed lights glittering some distance ahead. Down the house-lined stony road and about fifteen miles from the city of Hangzhou, there was a hotel. I was delighted; I did not intend to go further as it has been a tiring day. Suet-foong went along with me when I suggested that we put up a night here; she was bushed too.

It was dark and stars sprinkled the night sky like lucid snowflakes of silver when we drew up outside the hotel named Travelers' Palace, a huge, grand double-story brick Victorian building with a wide arch leading to the courtyard. In the middle of the arch, reached by a flight of stairs, we saw a big open doorway; bright light was streaming out of it.

After unloading our stuff, we left our horses standing in the yard. As we climbed up the steps, I turned to Suet-foong and said, "I shall be using the name of David Li to book two rooms for us at the reception. Please remember not to mention my real name in public as I want to keep a low profile."

"Okay, brother," she nodded. "But make it one room with two beds; saves cost. This place looks expensive."

I was touched by her thoughtfulness. "Very well then, but aren't you worried that I might rape you tonight?" I said, grinning devilishly at her.

"Nah ... my little sister has come."

I was befuddled. "Huh? What? I don't get you."

"I am having my period, Dumdum!"

"Oh, lucky me," I deadpanned.

To be continued ...

Chapter Four - (3)

Sitting on the soft green grass beside the bank, we ate our lunch of dumplings that Suet-foong had packed for the journey. Then, feeling a compelling desire to revive her deadened feet, she took off her boots and paddled them in the cool greenish-hued water. Looking cheerful, she shut her eyes while listening to the therapeutic sound of the rushing stream. As for me, I went to a huge willow-tree nearby and sat down with my back to its trunk. The yellow and green leaves were fluttering against the bright sky, dazzling me. Soon I found myself yawning like a cavern; sleep came instantly after that.

Forty-five minutes later, I woke up. Upon noticing Suet-foong was not at the place where I left her, I sprang to my feet and rushed to the bank; I thought she had tumbled into the stream while dozing off! To my relief, I found her sitting on top of a big rock not far from my right. She was drawing something on her sketch block. I nipped over to her side and saw that she had just completed depicting a picture of the forest and its surroundings that stood before us. It was a beautiful piece but then again in my eyes, all of her artwork always gave great aesthetic pleasure.

"Hello, Rip van Winkle," she said, glancing at me, "so you are finally awaken."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," I replied, scratching my head. "I can't understand it ... this sudden drowsiness of mine. It had never happened before. Perhaps the sun and cool air cast a spell on me to fall fast asleep."

"No problem. I used the time to explore this place. Its charm and beauty have given me the inspiration to come up with this sketch." She came down from the rock and passed me the drawing to have a look. "Do you like it?"

"Yes, the picture is lovely," I said, smiling, "just like you."

"Of course, I am mighty well painted too."

"You know, you are rather vain."

"Hey, don't act surprised. I learned it from you."

Aw ... shucks.

There was a moss-veiled path about thirty paces from us that led to the floor of the teak-brown forest, and Suet-foong suggested we took a closer look at it before we moved on. I agreed; it appeared inviting. As soon as we entered inside, we saw that the time-chiseled trees with their rustling foliage were skyscrapers high. The grass was crispy beneath our feet. Berries lay ripening under the leafy dome of the forest. Rabbits were scuttling away from us up ahead. I felt like we were in a woody heaven.

Suddenly,Suet-foong let out a bloodcurdling scream.

To be continued ...

Chapter Four - (2)

The land, steep and imposing, dwarfed the four of us as we 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.

When we finally reached a stream that brawled across bars of blue pebbles, the sun had climbed to the noon. We decided to take a short timeout here. We had to. My feet had fallen asleep and my ass grew numb sitting on the hard saddle. So much so that I walked like I was having a serious case of hemorrhoids. Suet-foong did not fare any better; she was waddling like a duck.

To be continued ...

Chapter Four - 1

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 short 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."

To be continued ...

The story behind my story

Would you believe you are reading "Snow Phoenix and Me" because of fate dealing me a cruel blow more than 15 years ago?

In 1997, I lost my beloved mother to lung cancer. To me, she was like an angel sent by God as she was a mother full of kindness, tenderness, and everlasting love. She was my truest friend when sunshine deserted me and adversity fell upon me. And she was the strength that gave me wings to fly. After her death, my whole world tasted like a lemon, depression was ruling my spirits, and the hurt was slowly tearing me apart. My heart would ache, like an archer piercing it with his arrow, whenever I heard my friends talking about how great and wonderful their mothers were.

Then one night, I stared at my laptop and with tears pouring down like rain, began typing words to describe the sorrow and pain I was going through during that very difficult period. By the time I finished, it was two pages long and it acted as a basis to "Snow Phoenix and Me". Thereafter I sent my brain to the gym for a good workout as I needed to get the gray matter working overtime to dream up of an exceptionally good sob tale so that readers like you haven't seen it a zillion times before. 

And so, after more than fifteen years (I wrote a few other fantasy novels along the way), I finally completed my most cherished book. There are countless thrills, laughter, and melancholy on the fun-filled pages ahead, and I hope you will enjoy reading them. So, let's not waste any more time and travel back to 1913 in Shanghai, shall we? 

Yeah, one more thing: Ma, I still miss you ...

       

What do you mean you think you have fallen in love with me? You are in love with me, you dumdum!

Have Love, Will Travel (Final)

I thanked my lucky stars when she returned empty-handed. She appeared calmer. But she was suddenly quiet. Disappointment was written all over her face. This was a different Suet-foong; I did not recognize her at all.

She sat down glancing at me. "How long will you be away?"

"At least a month," I replied. "I am facing the heat from the police for killing Song Jiao-ren. I have to disappear for a while until things cool off."

She shrugged, a half shrug actually, just her right shoulder. It lent an air of nonchalance to the gesture.

"Believe me, I really don't want to go but I've no choice," I continued. "I hope you'll understand."

"You don't have to explain everything to me," she said. "I don't know you that well. If you wish to go, then go; who am I to stop you?" Her words were cold, but her cracked voice betrayed her. Instantly, I knew her feelings for me ran deep as well and she was upset that I was leaving her, perhaps forever.

At that very moment I found myself on the horns of predicament - I had better come out with a win-win proposition for both of us quickly if I wanted  our love affair to last longer than tonight.There was a pause. Finally, a light bulb went off in my head and I said, "I'm planning to visit Hangzhou. And I dearly wish you to join me."

"Is that an invitation?"

I could see a glimmer of excitement in her voice. I was glad. Nodding, I replied, "Yes, please say you will accept."

"Why should I?"

"Because I think I've fallen in love with you."

I was expecting her to smile or perhaps blushed at my unexpected declaration. But she did neither. She frowned at me instead. Oh shit, did I goof again?

"What do you mean you think you have fallen in love with me?" she said, placing her hands on her slender waist. "You are in love with me, you dumdum!"

She took the words right out of my mouth - the dumdum part I mean.

The brainy one then looked fixedly at me with her big brown eyes which could take me away from this world. For several seconds she was lost in thought. The next thing I knew she shaking her head. "I don't think I can join you."

I was utterly disappointed. "Why? What's the matter?"

"When we go on a trip, we need to eat, we need a place to stay; I don't have any money for that," she explained. "Moreover, my business will be affected if I were to close my shop for a month."

"That is not a problem; I'll pick up the tab for the entire journey," I reassured her with a smile. Ambling over to my knapsack, I took out a bundle of bank notes and passed them to her. "And I believe two hundred dollars would cover your potential loss of income for the next thirty days or so."

"Goodness me, I've never held so much money in my life!" she said, looking at the dough in awe. "No, I can't take this."

"I insist. There are plenty more where they came from. Now put them in a safe place and let's go out for dinner. I'm starving."

"Well, if you so firmly say that I should have them, I suppose I must," she replied happily. "And thank you!" She got down on the floor, removed one of the wooden planks, and stashed the money underneath. I marveled at her ingenuity. If I were a thief, I would never think the loot is hidden under there.

Then, as she headed for the bathroom to freshen herself up, she asked, "Of all the places in China, why do you pick Hangzhou?"

"Oh, haven't you heard of this famous saying: in heaven there is paradise, on Earth there is Hangzhou?" I replied. "Here, the picturesque West Lake which is dotted with pagodas, temples, and pavilions, is also famous for the Lady White Snake legend. The love tale goes that a white snake came to the human world as she was longing for human life. She transformed herself into a beautiful woman and finally met the man of her dreams on a bridge in West Lake."

"We don't have to go all the way to Hangzhou to create our own love tale," she said, winking at me. "It has already begun here."

A new chapter begins on Tuesday! 

Shanghai in the 1910s when rickshaw coolies plied their trade on the streets.

Have Love, Will Travel (3)

Let me clear the air. We did not engage in any sexual activity thereafter. This might sound crazy but I did not have the mood tonight. Maybe it was because I still got the blues bug or maybe she was right - I was a dumdum. Whatever it was,we spewed out inane comments from our mouths about everything except sex. Soon we came to the inevitable topic: the Song Jiao-ren murder.

"You make a big mistake by killing the man," she said, munching a cookie.

"Strange you should say that. Those were his last words to me before I put a bullet to his head."

"And he was right. Do you know he was going to be our first elected prime minister? With his death, our country's best chance of democracy may have died with him."

As if I did not know. "I might not have taken up the contract if I knew beforehand what a big-shot he was," I said, drinking my second cup of tea. "But then someone else would have assassinated him. Anyway I'm not going to cry over spilled milk - what's done is done."

"Am I next in your hit list?" she asked, leaning forward, her chin in her hands. "I saw you committing a murder. And you introduced yourself. When you did that, it means you were planning to make me your next victim. That's how you guys operate, isn't it?"

"I give you credit for that. You know the hit-man's code well."

"Every Tom, Dick, and Harry knows the hit-man's code," she scoffed. "So are you going to kill me?"

"I might."

"I don't think you will," she answered coolly.

"And why the hell not?" I said, trying to look mean.

"If I die, you won't see me stripping down to my knees. And I know how crazy you are about my ass." She mischievously flashed her eyebrows at me.

I laughed and I did likewise to her.

Then there was silence. It came drifting down like flashes of snow, sweetly smothering us. I could not break out of it. I did not know whether she could or not. I also realized there was something about this lady that was inherently appealing, a mercurial quality that none of my other girlfriends possessed. She was not only beautiful, she was brilliant, perky, and had a great sense of humor as well - the kind of gal I could fall head over heels for. Yes, I was very sure of my feeling now; it was not a short-lived passion but unadulterated love. My heart rejoiced as I gently touched her hand. It was soft and warm. 

"There is another reason why I am here," I finally said. "I wanted to see you before I leave Shanghai tomorrow."

She pulled her hand away and made a face. "Hey, killjoy, you really know how to spoil a woman's evening! I was expecting you to bring our romantic adventure to the next level, not make a bloody goodbye announcement!"

By the time I found my voice, she had gone to the back, most probably the bathroom to relieve herself. She looked pretty pissed. And who could blame her - I had just made an enormous goof. Suddenly I had the most awful thought: what if she had gone to grab her cleaver in the kitchen instead? Uh-oh ... shivers began running up and down my spine.

To be continued tomorrow ...

"So, are you ready to drop your pants?"

Have Love, Will Travel (2)

Her studio was quite a messy affair. The walls were nailed with art pieces of various sizes; brushes, pencils, water-colored boxes, papers, and other painting materials were scattered all over the floor, tables, and chairs; and a wooden easel displaying a half-finished oil painting on a canvas stood in the middle of the hall. On closer look, the painting was of a naked man, his back facing front, sitting on a stool with his arms resting on his knees as though he was watching the world go by. The part where it showed his butt was not done. Was Suet-foong waiting for the right butt ... my butt ... to complete the picture? I winced at the notion.

"There is an art fair at the Peace Hotel in May," she said, going into the kitchen located at the back of the shop to replace her chopper. "I'm fortunate to be allocated a space there to present ten of my paintings as buyers and art dealers from all over the world will be attending this once-a-year event. So far I've done nine. The picture that you see on the easel is my final one. I hope my works can sell; I've not sent any money to my parents in Xi'an since last October."

"Are you their only child?" I asked while putting my knapsack on an empty chair.

"No, I have a brother who is two years older than me. He works for chicken feed in a textile factory. To make ends meet, he stays with my parents. I am the rebellious one. When I was eighteen, I left home to seek my fortune here. That was four years ago."

She came out with a cup of hot Chinese tea and passed it to me.

After taking a sip of the beverage I said, "Seeing you in dire straits, I reckon that you have yet to find your pot of gold?"

"My situation is not as bad as you perceived it to be," she replied, looking rather upbeat. "At the moment I have brown gold stored in buckets inside and behind my toilet. But mind you, their smell can be nauseous, you know what I mean?" She then guffawed like a tormented jackass.

I looked at the brown liquid in my cup. Suddenly my tongue developed a funny taste toward the drink.

In a wink of an eye a table in a corner was laid. There was a plate of cookies, a pot of Chinese tea, and another cup for her. We then sat on the stool facing each other. Only when she drank her tea did I feel safe with mine.

"So, are you ready to drop your pants?" she asked, gazing at me with great interest.

I anticipated her to throw that question at me and this time I was well prepared. "No problem, I will show you my butt if you show me yours," I smirked, but of course. After my tit-for-tat reply, I was cocksure she would drop the subject all together.

How wrong I was.

"Oh, I was not aware that you are an artist as well," she said.

"I am not. I am a hundred-percent liquidator and mighty proud of it."

"In that case why do you want to see my butt?"

"Because ... because ..." I faltered. Damn! She got me there. Not knowing how to field that one, I decided to throw in the towel. "Look, let's forget about what I've just said and move on to another topic, shall we?"

She looked cross-eyed at me. "You're a dumdum, you know that?"

"I'm not!" I objected. "For your information, I am actually good-looking and brainy."

"No, no, you have it all wrong. I am good-looking and brainy."

Okay, okay, perhaps I was not that good-looking in her books but I would not let a girl - even one with a terrific bottom - dubbed me a dolt. That was bad for business.

"Oh yeah?" I sneered. "Give me one good reason why you are so darn brainy."

"Sure," she replied confidently, "I wouldn't let you make love to me."

"Ha! The thought never even crossed my mind ..." I paused. Now, what imbecilic urge made me blurt out things like that?

She gave a short, derisive laugh. "So, now you know why you are a dumdum." 

To be continued on Sunday ...

"... with every passing hour, my infatuation for her grew by leaps and bounds ..."

Chapter 3 - Have Love, Will Travel (1)

With the moody blues as my pillion passenger, I went straight to Nanking Road - it was the biggest shopping district in Shanghai and one of the most densely populated places in the world - hoping to meet up with Suet-foong. Her presence would no doubt please me as I felt she had the magic touch to get rid of my depression ... okay, okay, I lied. Actually, with every passing hour, my infatuation for her grew by leaps and bounds until my desire to see her almost reached the level of complete madness.

When I finally reached the place, it was already dusk. The crowded street, now looking like a sea of lights, was an amazing visual experience: there was a vast number of shops that included big department stores, eateries, bars, and prostitute dens occupying every inch of street frontage; the sidewalks all lined with rickshaw drivers plying their trade, some ferrying their customers to their destinations; and packed trams passing through the busy sections every couple of minutes or so. Holy cow, finding Suet-foong in these surroundings was like looking for a needle in a haystack - I needed a map ... wait a second, what was I saying? For crying out loud, maps are only for dimwitted navigators. Anyway, who says I was lost? I was already here, only the trail was lost.

Yeah, right.

Luckily I had the next best thing: her calling card with her address printed on it. However, asking for directions posed another problem. The people whom I approached were either illiterate or just plain snobbish. Finally a kind old shop-keeper who noticed my plight showed me the way to her studio; I had to go to the other end of the three-mile-long Nanking Road, near to the residential area. Upon arriving there I breathed a sense of relief when I saw lesser people - I dislike crowds. The streets, however, were dimly lit. There was a small temple, its long burning coils of incense tickling my nose as I went past them. Close by, a block of single-story shops was home to Shanghai's biggest fine arts center. Here one could find paintings, handicrafts, and sculptures for sale - well, that was what the old shop-keeper told me anyway. Frankly I never knew such a place existed; art is never my forte.

At last I caught sight of Suet-foong's studio at the far end. Her front door was closed but I knew she was inside when the windows showed light behind thin flannel curtains. After tying Flash onto a wooden pole beside the five-foot path, I casually walked over there. Just then her door swung open, and a fat middle-aged man, his face paralyzed with fear, dashed out. Suet-foong, who was swinging a cleaver wildly, was right behind him; she was angrier than a raging bull.

"Who do you think I am - a bloody whore?" she barked at the fatso. "You'd better get the hell out of my sight before I chop you up into eighteen pieces, you lecherous moron!"

A moment of surprise washed over me as I looked at them. Stepping aside, I allowed room for the frightened man to go through. He flew past me and ran into an alley. Suet-foong halted when she noticed my presence, her frown quickly turning into a smile.

"Hello," I greeted her. She was wearing the same garment from last night. "What's going on? And that guy you were chasing, who is he?"

"I don't know him," she replied indignantly. "He came to my shop a while ago wanting to buy one of my paintings. It was selling for twenty dollars; he offered me forty if I sleep with him. Of all the nerve, he thought money could buy him anything!" 

"I see. An artist of principle; I like that."

There was a pause. Then she looked at me in the eye. "You are late!" she snapped. "I expect you to come this morning."

"Why? You miss me?" I said in jest.

"Yes I do. And you don't?"

"Oh, I do too, I do too," I swiftly replied - I must be out of my mind to say no to a woman wielding a cleaver.

To be continued on Saturday (Malaysia time) ...

"The wind was singing in my ears; puffy cotton balls were floating in the heavens."

Yesterday When I Was Young (3)

I did as he was told. To my pleasant surprise, it was cash, lots of cash. "Why is there so much money?" I asked, looking at him with widened eyes.

"Knowing that our client was willing to pay a substantial amount to get rid of Song, I upped the ante another three-fold," he replied. "This is your take-home pay, minus my commission of course.

I smiled looking like a million dollars. That was why he was my business agent; he knew how to get the best deal in town!

When the second package was unfolded, there was a semi-auto Browning pistol inside.

"This is the latest model," the old goat said. "It is lighter, has a quicker reloading mechanism, and it is more reliable than the one you usually use. Keep it with you at all times."

"Are you expecting another job?"

"No, I am expecting trouble," he said. Suddenly he looked grave. "Because of Song's status, the police are now under tremendous pressure to apprehend his killer at the soonest time possible. Furthermore, you can't expect Song's people to take something like that lying down; they will be hunting for you. The gun is for your protection. Along with that, I would suggest you lie low for a while. Leave Shanghai, go for a vacation and come back in a month's time. By then I am sure everything would have cooled off."

Obviously I was knocked for six by his statement. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to encounter a situation as messy as this. Alas, the best deal in town did not look so good after all. As I stuffed the money and the firearm into the leather knapsack provided by him, no further word was spoken between us. The silence was as deafening as a lady's fart. 

With the bag slung on my back, he walked me to my horse. When I was about to mount and ride off, I said at last: "Sifu, I think you should leave too. We are in the same boat, you know. Come join me. I'll take you to Hangzhou. You'll love this place: the city sits on a beautiful lake surrounded by gentle green hills."

"I don't like travelling, Ake," he said, patting my shoulder. "And even if I agree to follow you, who will take care of Keng? He and I are inseparable. Anyway, don't concern yourself about me. I am an old hand at playing cat and mouse with this type of people. I know how to take care of myself. Now go. See you in thirty."

I nodded with great reluctance. As I rode down the dusty path that led to the main road, I looked over my shoulder and saw that he was still standing at the spot where I left him. Keng was at his side. The old goat gave a little wave and smiled, but I could tell his smile was not a cheerful one. Rather, it was a smile sadder than sad ... like the smile of the Sphinx, as if he expected not to see me again.

The wind was singing in my ears; puffy cotton balls were floating in the heavens. In spite of the fine weather with its blue skies and everything nice, there was not even a small ray of sunshine in my heart.

Chapter 3 begins on Tuesday!

"I was a young punk then."

Yesterday When I Was Young (2)

"Excellent! I've taught you well!" replied the graybeard proudly, sipping his tea. Subsequently I helped him light up another cigarette. He did not offer me one as he knew I do not smoke. "I've been keeping score - that is your 49th successful mission in a row," he said, looking at me. "And to think you were only nineteen years old when our paths crossed. Now you are twenty-seven. My, how time flies."

"Yes, Sifu, I was a young punk then," I said. "At that time, I had run away from the orphanage and joined a local street gang, supporting ourselves by pickpocketing and extortion. One day you caught me trying to steal your wallet but instead of handing me over to the police, you trained me to become a hit-man."

"And do you know, of all the thousands of punks in the street, why I chose you?"

"Of course I know! It's because I remind you so much of your youth: quick-witted, brave, and having fast reflexes," I teased him. "You have told me this so many times before that I lost count. Unlike you, I never keep score."

Lau Beng laughed. "Sometimes I am a bit of a long-winded old geezer, eh?"

I was about to correct him that he was always a long-winded old goat when I realized that courtesy would have been the better part of impudence. So I gave him a half smile and drank my tea.

After a pause, I said, "This guy whom I killed last night, this Song Jiao-ren; I am surprised to see his death making the headlines in all the newspapers today. He must have been a very high-ranking politician to receive such heavy media coverage."

"He was," replied my sifu. "When our country, after being under imperial rule for over two thousand years, became a republic recently, he led his party to win the parliamentary elections. He was in line to become the first democratically elected prime minister. When you shot him, he was on his way to Beijing to meet his chief adversary, President Yuan Shi-kai who wanted to restore the monarchy with him as the new emperor. So here you don't have to be a rocket scientist to guess who put a contract out on Song. When you play a game of thrones, you either win or you die."

"Wow, Song Jiao-ren was our future prime minister?" I said. There was a slight tinge of regret in my voice. "I have no idea."

The old goat saw right through me. "A hit-man should never develop a conscience," he admonished. "Otherwise he would fail in his task."

"I will remember that," I nodded.

After we had our lunch and the dishes washed - by me, who else - it was time to return to the city. Sensing that I was about to bid him farewell, Lau Beng darted to his room, emerging a minute later with two small packages in his hand. He then placed them on the table.

"There are for you," he said. "Please open the one on your left first."

To be continued tomorrow ... 

"I broke the liquidator's 'No Eyewitness' rule - I did not silence Li Suet-foong."

Chapter 2 - Yesterday When I Was Young (1)

The next morning, I mounted my trusty white stallion Flash and went to see an old timer named Lau Beng. He lived alone with his dog in a nursery about ten miles away from the city center. Once upon a time he was an expert marksman and a member of the Eighty-Eight Dragons, a secret society initially formed in Beijing to throw off foreign oppression. With the failure of the Boxer Rising in 1900, it diverted its objective to organized crimes, becoming the largest arms trafficking outfit in China in no time at all. The new status of his organization enabled him to rub shoulders with the other underworld figures. But late one night, as soon as he came out dead drunk from a bar, he was ambushed by his enemies; he managed to escape but he lost his right arm. That was eight years ago. After that, he decided to call it quits. Having celebrated in sixty-seventh birthday last month, he spent his time tending to his flowers and plants. He might be a sexagenarian, wizened and wrinkled, yet the ex-gunrunner was still as fit as a fiddle, his mind just as keen as thirty years before. He was also my sifu.

Upon reaching his log cottage with a thatched roof, I saw him sitting on his rocking chair at the verandah, puffing away a cigarette, his eyes on the field before him. Resplendent fell the golden beams of the sun, fragrant exuded the gentle breeze gliding across the green meadows. Little birds were singing in the trees, their voices so distinct from all other musical notes; and the earth was filled with a mass of blooming flowers of red, yellow, and blue. It was indeed a deliciously lovely day.

Keng, the German shepherd, welcomed me with a bark as I left Flash to roam freely in the field. The thick brownish-coated canine had been the old man's faithful companion for as long as I can remember. I gave him a hug; he wagged his bushy tail, woofing in delight. Following that he ran back to the field to play catch with the birds and read the latest smells with his sensitive nose. He was one energetic, cheerful dog.

"Good morning, Sifu!" I greeted Lau Beng at the porch. "How are you today?"

"Same old, same old," he replied, smiling, his nicotine-stained teeth visible behind his cracked lips. Thin and snowy-haired, he was a sweet-natured guy with an unsurpassable sense of humor. Age must have mellowed him; he claimed he was, in his own words, a ruthless bastard during his young days. 

I pulled a chair and sat beside him, and over a pot of Chinese tea, we wore out the morning talking, our conversation filled mostly with his past. He loved to tell me stories of the old China when it was under imperial rule, so much so that I think he got amnesia about his present.

"So how did your assignment go?" he asked, finally changing the topic. He knew about my hit as he was my business agent as well. "Any problem?"

"Nah," I said, shaking my head. I then poured him another cup of tea. "It went like a dream." Actually it did not. I left out one teeny-weeny detail: I broke the liquidator's No Eyewitness rule - I did not silence Li Suet-foong. But I took exception to her case; my gut feeling told me that her lips were sealed. Also, I took an immediate liking for her - I wonder whether it was love at first sight?


To be continued tomorrow ...

"I felt like Santa Claus."

A Phoenix Comes A-Calling (Final)

Getting past the cordon was a breeze; the police did not even bother to have a second look at me. After that she and I went to a nearby wonton noodles stall at a five-foot way. It had a small signboard that read, "Famous One-Ton Noodles from Canton". I chuckled. The words were funnier than my name. Surely their noodles did not weigh that heavy. I ordered two bowls with shrimp wonton in steaming hot soup.

While waiting for our food to arrive, she just sat on the wooden stool, browsing about her without uttering a word. There were only a few customers at this time; us and another couple at the far end. God, had we run out of topics to talk? Then noticing her sketch block lying on another wooden stool beside her, I broke our silence by asking: "Are you an artist?"

She nodded. "I've a small studio in Nanking Road." She passed me her card.

"Does your art have any specific theme?" I asked, glancing at her card before slipping it in my shirt pocket.

"Yes, nudity."

My eyes bulged like a Chihuahua's - the subject was getting interesting. "You mean nudity as in naked men and women?"

"Well, I like painting naked men more. And your butt gives me the inspiration for my next masterpiece."

"You want me to pose in the nude for you?"

"Are you a man?"

"Why, of course I am. What a silly question."

"Then what is your problem? Unless you are really a mouse ... are you?"

Our noodles came in the nick of time. My ass - pardon the pun - was saved. She must be out of her mind asking me to stand stark naked while she hung around staring lecherously at a certain part of my anatomy! The snotty bitch stopped talking and began to shovel her food in. A minute later she said: "I'm done." I glanced at her bowl. It was empty, soup and all. By golly, she was a fast eater; I was only halfway through with mine.

"Would you like to have another one?" I asked.

"Yes, please. I haven't eaten since last night."

I grew curious. "Are you on a diet?"

"No, after paying the rent, I am broke as a joke."

Perhaps it was my imagination, but suddenly I saw a piteous, fragile figure before me. The sight plucked at my heartstrings. Even though I am a stony-hearted hit-man, I am still a sucker for damsels in distress, especially a pretty one.

While she was wolfing down her second bowl, I checked out her sketch block. There was only one drawing on the first page: a very detailed picture of Shanghai Railway Station.

"I thought you said you draw only nudes?" I asked, admiring her work.

"I paint nudes; for scenery, I do it in pencils."

"I see. Is this piece for sale? It's beautiful. I'd like to buy it."

"Yeah, all my drawings and paintings are for sale. Is a dollar okay with you?"

I gave her a five-dollar note. "Keep the change."

"Oh, thank you so much!" she beamed with delight. "Wow! Five dollars! That kind of money can feed me for a month!"

I smiled. Watching her jump for joy warmed the cockles of my heart. I felt good. I felt happy. I felt like Santa Claus.

A new chapter begins on Friday!

Recently I was invited to attend the Readers' Choice Awards presentation ceremony held at the KLCC, Malaysia. One of my earlier works - "Natasha" - was shortlisted for the award (English Fiction).

Picture shows some of the nominees on stage. I am standing 7th from left.

                             "She had a sexy round ass; much better-looking than mine."

A Phoenix Comes A-Calling (5)

"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 the 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 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.

To be continued on Monday ...

"God, she was drop-dead gorgeous!"

A Phoenix Comes A-Calling (4)

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 of 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 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?"

A Phoenix Comes A-Calling (3)

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.