"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.