Chapter Five - (1)

In the blink of an eye, it was already mid-April. Typically this is the time for sun-filled skies, heavy showers, and the sweet smell of lavender when we have spring on our doorstep charming us. However this year was peculiar. The temperature was still hovering at the lower end of the thermostat; the clouds hung low and gray without rain; and a fog, pale as a specter, blanketed the deathly pallor of the nights. As the days dragged eerily with little or no change, it felt like the month of the Hungry Ghost Festival when spirits and other unearthly creatures come out of their realm to visit our world.

Despite the bleak weather, Suet-foong and I had the times of our lives. Besides, she disliked the heat; it always gave her migraine headaches, she complained. We were now staying in another hotel in Hangzhou. This quaint, sleepy town was a total contrast to the hustle and bustle of Shanghai. With its many forests, historical sites, and the picturesque West Lake that looked like a shining pearl - legend had it that the lake was a heavenly jewel fallen to Earth - surrounded by rolling green mountains, this land of intoxicating beauty had inspired poets and painters, Suet-foong included. Just like her, I loved the place a great deal. Although it was my first time at the West Lake, I seemed to have come upon it somewhere in my dreams; a misty expanse of water and clouds where lotus leaves blended harmoniously with the slender, graceful willow branches.

One afternoon, we were sitting in one of the pavilions at the lake. She had just completed drawing another picture - it was her zillionth piece - of the breathtaking landscape. I had brought along a flask of coffee, helping myself to a few cups as I watched her produce a masterful work of art from her vision that revealed nature's mystical beauty. It was around this time that we began teasing one another: she called me a crappy liquidator and I said she could not draw. Yeah, that is the fun and joy of being romantically attached to the right person.

"Do you think it was luck that brought us together, Ake?" said Suet-foong dreamily as she put the rolled art paper inside the tube-like container. "It was either the railway station or the bund on my drawing list that night. If I had chosen the latter, I would not have met you."

"I don't believe in luck, Sugarplum," I replied. It was also then that I used this term of endearment to address her. She reciprocated by continuing to call me "Dumdum", saying it rhymed with "Sugarplum". God, she was cheeky ... but lovable all the same. "It is fate, you know, 'what will be, will be', that kind of thing. There is no escaping from the jaws of destiny. So whether you like it or not, you are stuck with me, a killer for hire. Regret knowing me now?" I smirked.

"I do."

I smirked no more. "You ... you do?" My voice was almost like a whisper.

"Yeah, why didn't you come into my life earlier?"

The smirk returned; I looked like an idiot with my on-off-on smirking. Instinctively I kissed her forehead.

"Hey, I don't like it," she said.

"You don't like what?"

"I don't like you kissing my forehead."

"Oh, I am sorry."

"Kiss my lips, you dumdum."

To be continued ...