Chapter Seven - (2)

The sun had already ended its glory when I woke up from my slumber. Looking out through the window from my bedroom, I smiled at the white moon and the lustrous dancing stars as they illuminated the jet black sky. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, awakening the nocturnal stillness. The table clock beside my bed showed it was 8:50 P.M. Holy sleepyhead, I had snoozed the whole day away!

After a shower bath, I felt refreshed. By then Suet-foong had already prepared my dinner, and what great timing; I was hungry as a wolf.

"So, you are going to kill ... err, I mean, liquidate the mayor?" she asked as I was having a second bowl of rice; the steamed fish was delicious.

"Yeah," I replied. "I've to finish him off before he gets a chance to hit me again. Today I emerged unscathed because he sent a bunch of nincompoops. I may not be so lucky the next time."

"He's not an easy target as you think. I'm sure you know that he has his own private army, his soldiers protecting him twenty-four hours a day. He stands impregnable ... invincible even!"

"Nothing is going to stop me from avenging the death of my sifu, Suet-foong. All I need is a plan to get near him alone."

"And what is this plan?"

"Err ... it's still in the planning stage."

She sneered. "Ha! In other words, you've got no plan at all!"

"Listen, smartass, if you think you have one, tell me!" I said, feeling a little bit sore ... no, correct that. I was actually feeling very sore. I am a proud bastard, get it?

"I don't need a plan to deal with the mayor. I just go for his weak spot."

"Which is?"

"Like all lecherous men, he loves beautiful women," she replied, pouring herself a cup of tea. She then sat facing me. "Get him one - the really hot stuff type. After that, killing him would be a piece of cake."

"And where do you think I can find such a 'hot stuff' as bait?" I asked between munches on my last mouthful of food.

"Here. Me."

I nearly choked to death on my rice. When I regained my faculties, I looked at her square in the eye, thinking that she was just putting me on. But she did not snicker. She did not even flash a smile. God, she was serious!

"No bloody way!" I said when I found back my voice. "It's too dangerous."

"Life without danger is boring," she replied, sounding like a philosopher. "Come on, be a sport. We would make a great team."

"I will not risk the life of my wife for my personal vendetta!" I said in a slightly raised voice; I was adamant.

Her eyes bugged. "Who says I want to marry you?"

"I am saying it now; marry me," I blurted out, although for a moment or two, I was confused as to whether or not I uttered those words.

She stared at me like a dumb ox. Finally she asked: "Why?"

"So that I can get my laundry done for free," I said in jest.

"Free, my foot - I don't come cheap!" she quipped; she was quick on the uptake.

"Name your price then."

"I am priceless."

She was. She was.

To be continued ...

Chapter Seven - (1)

I had a two-bedroom house by the stream on the outskirts of Shanghai; a sparsely populated area with a nice neighborhood. Since it was very close to the city, I got to enjoy all the advantages of a cosmopolitan center, and when I came home I escaped from the noise and dust. I was just one lucky bastard who had the best of both worlds, I suppose.

Riding at breakneck speed without a halt, I finally reached my abode when dawn broke. With the saddlebags containing Lau Beng's money on my shoulder, I quickly dismounted and strode toward the front door. I was totally exhausted. The only thing on my mind right now was my bed. Also, I was anxious to see Suet-foong; she must be worried sick over my absence.

Yup, my sugarplum had moved in with me. The feelings were mutual; I proposed, she accepted. It was a straightforward deal, no fees charged, you know what I mean?

Anyway, I must have looked terrible because when I entered the living hall, I saw her sitting on the easy chair and looking at me in astonishment. "Oh, great Buddha!" she cried.

"Not even close; guess again," I replied in a bantering tone.

"What happened? You look like death warmed over!" she said, sprinting to my side. I put the saddlebags on the sofa and we hugged each other.

"I haven't slept for the past forty-eight hours," I answered. Then as if on cue, I yawned.

"That's because you are in love with me."

I was baffled. "What has it got to do with me not sleeping?"

"Well, for the first time in your life, you have found something more beautiful than your dreams."

"That's all very fine, but if I don't get some shuteye soon, my grotesque appearance is going to give you nightmares!"

I then told her all about my vengeance on the five gunmen who had killed my sifu and his faithful dog. I could tell that she was enthralled by my tale - she did not open her mouth to make a witty remark like she usually did whenever I spurn a yarn.

"You fried all five of them?" she asked at last.

"To a crisp."

"That's horrible."

"You mean about the way I liquidated those bozos?"

"No, I mean about your cooking."

To be continued ...

Chapter Six (full length)

President Yuan Shi-kai

I was horrified, I was mad, and I was in grief - although not necessarily in that order.

When I returned to Shanghai, the first thing I did was to see Lau Beng at his nursery. Upon reaching his place, I felt uneasy because Keng did not appear to greet me like he usually did, and my sifu was nowhere to be seen. Quickly I went searching for them. About half a mile from the cottage, in a little grassy glade beside a river, I found them lying motionless on the ground, not far from each other. They had been shot to death, and their badly decomposed bodies revealed that it was more than a week ago. Lau Beng was still holding his hand pruners. I searched far and wide about the field looking for clues that would shed some light on the identity of the killers - I knew there was more than one person because there were many footprints on the ground - but there were none. Disappointed, I tottered back to the spot where the graybeard and his faithful dog had fallen. That was when I saw it: severed fingers in the jaws of Keng. He must have bitten them off the attacker's hand during the struggle.

"This is a heartening find," I said to myself as I removed the worm-infested fingers - there were four of them - from the canine's mouth. "It will make my task easier to identify the culprit."

Using a pick and shovel, I dug two graves marked by tombstones under a big tree for my sifu and Keng. Dusk arrived when I finally laid them to rest. Before the tombstone of Lau Beng, instead of joss sticks, I burnt three cigarettes - his favorite brand - as a token of respect and knelt down in silence. Mist had enveloped about me and the trees below. The waxing moon was riding in the west. Then I spoke: "In this world, there are many things that catch my eyes, but only a few catch my heart. Sifu, you caught my heart, and you shall forever be missed. You were not only my teacher and mentor, you were like my father. You'd never know that your kindness, big or small, expressed in your own distinctive manner, have such a tremendous imprint on my life. It touches my soul in a very special way. That's the sort of impact you had imbued in my senses when you said, 'Kid, you can do anything you set your mind to, because you have what it takes, but pickpocketing is not one of them. Come, let me groom you for higher things' after you caught me trying to steal your wallet. You saved me. And you'd made me a better man today."

I paused. Eventually I broke down and cried - yes, even grown men shed tears in times of great sorrow. In between sobs, I raised my clenched fist and muttered, "Your deaths shall be avenged, Sifu, and Keng ... I swear upon your graves that I'll kill those bastards who did this to you."

Surprisingly, Lau Beng's house was neat and tidy; by that I assumed he was killed while he was tending to his flowers in the field. I switched on all the lights, making his abode as bright as a flame. I did that because I wanted to attract the killers' attention. I was cocksure that they would be back to finish their jobs; they had only eliminated the business agent, and the liquidator - that's me - was still at large. Well, my job was just beginning.

I nipped over to his bedroom. There were only a few pieces of furniture: a king-sized bed and two chairs. There was also a big wardrobe; I opened its door - behind the rail of clothes was a secret compartment known only to Lau Beng and me. This was the graybeard's ammunition chest: guns, dynamites, the whole works. However, there was a metal box which I had never seen before. Curious, I unlatched it; my eyes sparkled like diamonds when I saw at least fifty thousand dollars inside - all in hundred-dollar bills - and a black notebook. The old goat not only left me memories, he left me money too! Then flipping through the pages of the book, I realized that he had kept a journal of all my hits: the dates, the names of our clients, the targets, and the amount paid. His last entry - the Song Jiao-ren contract - had me gasping in astonishment; our client was the murdered reporter Chen Yi-seng! Good gracious me, the mystery of this case was getting deeper by the day!

At four o'clock on the third morning, the enemy finally came. Hiding behind the huge trunk of an old tree not far from the house, I gazed out of the shadows: there were five of them, all tall and stern-faced. Donning stripped suits and white fedora hats, they looked like typical gangsters. Four were brandishing guns while the fifth was unarmed with a heavily-bandaged right hand; I reckoned that he must be the one who had his fingers chomped off by Keng. Cautiously, they made their way to the house. I rubbed my hands with glee; it was show-time.

As soon as the foremost gunman kicked open the front door, the house exploded in a big ball of fire - yours truly had rigged the whole place with dynamites. He was killed instantly along with the other three gunmen. The six-fingered bozo escaped death because he stood the furthest away. But the impact of the explosion flung him back a few yards, landing on the ground hard on his buttocks, a short distance from where I was. He got up and staggered to his feet, swaying back and forth like a pendulum. I saw his bleeding left arm hanging limp; he was hurt. Still, he must be thinking his luck was holding up because he survived the blast - yeah, his ass luck actually; he had not met me yet.

He was scared out of his wits when I finally showed my face to him. He should be; I was generating a menacing aura ... I was also pointing my gun at his head.

"M ... Mr. Clean, you must be Mr. Clean!" he spluttered as the color drained from his craggy face. Of course he was just guessing because no enemy before had seen my face and lived.

"At your service, bozo," I replied, heightening his fears.

He tried to make a run for it, but I shot him on the right leg before he had a chance. He fell, writhing in agony on the ground.   

"Tell me a story and I'll let you live," I said, coolly blowing away the smoke from the barrel of my gun.

"My lips are sealed, you bastard!"

"Tsk! Tsk! Watch your profanity, you son-of-a-bitch," I shot him again, this time on his left leg. He screamed like a stuck pig. "Well?" I asked.

"Go to hell!" he replied, trying to talk tough.

"You first," I said, my third shot hitting his left shoulder; my goodness, I seemed to be taking a sadistic pleasure in hurting him!

"Stop shooting! Stop shooting!" he finally pleaded, his tears of pain flowing down his cheeks. "I'll tell you what you want to know!"

Naturally I was not happy to hear that from him; I was hoping he could last a few more shots prior to throwing in the towel.

"First, tell me why did you have to shoot a defenseless one-armed man in the back?" I asked as my heart blazed in fury.

"Despite his handicap, Lau Beng was still a sharpshooter. Thus we had to take him down by surprise. I'm sorry, there was no other way."

"What about Chen Yi-seng? How was he connected in all this?"

"Chen Yi-seng was under the payroll of my boss. He was assigned to deal with Lau Beng and also to fabricate a story about Song Jiao-ren's death after that. But he got greedy; he wanted more money, threatening to expose my boss if his demand was not met. He had to be eliminated too."

"And who is your boss - President Yuan Shi-kai?"

"Not ... exactly," replied the badly-wounded bozo haltingly; the pain was slowly overwhelming him. "Yes, the president wants Song Jiao-ren terminated. And no, it was left to my boss Tan Chin, the mayor of Shanghai and his most trusted lieutenant, to get the job done."

"Tan Chin ... he is the most corrupted mayor in the whole of China!" I said, raising my eyebrows in surprise.

He nodded. "Everyone knows he is corrupted, but no one can prove it except Song. And he swore that once he became the prime minister, he would charge him in court and remove him from office. My boss was having none of that so when the president approached him to silence Song, he was more than willing to do it."

"Let me guess the rest," I chiseled in, my detective brain working overtime. "While President Yuan only greatly desired to have Song out of the way, your boss went one step further. He ordered you goons to wipe out everyone involved in the drawing up of the contract. That way, no evidence or witness would be forthcoming for others to nail him later, not even the president, am I correct?"

He nodded once more. "Yes, that included Shek-yau who was paid a great deal of money to take the heat. My boss hoodwinked him into thinking that he would be released unharmed after spending a couple of weeks in jail. Instead the pea-brain was killed by one of his moles while in custody."

"Bozo, your boss comes right out of a silly crime novel!" I scoffed. Then I advanced closer to his side, cocking my gun as I moved.

"Wait! Wait! What are you doing?" he bellowed, his face turning white. He knew I was about to kill him. "You said you'd let me live if I tell you the whole story."

"I lied," I said emphatically. My next shot spattered his brain in all directions.

Screaming fires had engulfed the entire cottage, the flames burning red and amber, as I dumped the bodies of the five gunmen into the raging inferno. In a short while, the building would be burnt down to nothing. After mounting my steed, I let out a sigh of sadness - it took my sifu many years to build his dream house, but the fire needed just a few minutes to completely destroy his dream.

I looked at the burning house one last time. Then I wheeled Flash to the main road and galloped away, never to return again. 

Chapter Five - (3 & Final part)

"You, a two-hundred-pound cheese hog?" I replied, quite taken aback. "God, I think I would faint from total shock!"

"You don't like me being fat?"

"You are not fat, okay? And you shall never be fat. I'll make sure of it."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I'll feed you all the non-oily and non-fatty stuff. And you'd better eat them or else I'll spank ya!"

Suet-foong looked me straight in the eye. "Not if I'm two hundred pounds, you won't!"

"But you are not two hundred pounds now."

"Yeah," she said, nibbling my ear. "But when I do, best you start running!" She laughed like a hyena.

I laughed along with her; it was real funny, I thought. However, at the back of my mind, I could not help visualizing my two-hundred-pound sugarplum, her hair in curlers and a lighted cigarette between her lips, chasing me all over Nanking Road with a cleaver, yelling, "How dare you spank me, you crappy beanpole!"

We made love that same night in our hotel room. After being with each other for more than three weeks, this was our first physical encounter. Don't ask me why I took so long to finally sleep with her - I am at a loss as you are. And no, I am not gay. Neither was she a lesbian. You see, I felt different about Suet-foong; unlike my other girlfriends, she completed me. Thus I wanted us to get intimate in a very special way. Perhaps I was waiting. Yes, that's it ... I was waiting for the right moment to commemorate this significant event. And tonight was the night.

Suet-foong's body might not have pleasing curves or a large bosom, but to me, she still possessed a stunning figure. Boy, did we make magic; I did everything right. I mean everything. I was tender, aggressive, tender again. God, I surprised myself - I seemed to know all the nifty moves to cause her moan in pleasure! And she was so loving, so soft to touch, and so sweet to smell. After we had done wetting the soil and planting the seeds, the girl in Suet-foong was chased away and she became a woman at last.

"Ake?"

"Yeah?"

"How deep is your love for me?"

We were still in bed, cuddling close to one another. I kissed her hair.

"Ocean deep," I said.

"Oh, I like that," she cooed.

I looked at her and she smiled. I smiled back.

"And how deep is your love for me?" I asked.

"Much deeper than your ocean, Ake."

What more was there for us to say, really? 

Chapter Five - (2)

We were pretty much alone at this time. The gentle breeze was caressing our faces. I moved my right arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me. Then I kissed her again. It was our first kiss - her soft, warm lips tasted like the sweetness of an apple. It was a beautiful long kiss; I felt as if time had stood still. The memory of this moment would last forever in my mind.

The next thing I knew we were merrily running along the lakeshore. I was in front, Suet-foong a couple of paces behind; we were playing a game of tag. We zoomed past an elderly couple who smiled and gave us the thumbs-up. We waved at them, giggling like little children. Frankly, at our ages, we looked kind of silly indulging in this kiddy activity but we played it anyway - it was jolly good fun. We ran and ran until we collapsed onto the soft sand in total exhaustion; we must have run at least three miles!

"I ... I have never run so far in my whole life," said Suet-foong, gasping for air. "What were you trying to do? Tired me out so that you can molest me without resistance?"

"Yeah, the temptation was there," I replied, puffing like a leaky steam pipe.

"You sex maniac!"

"What happened to 'dumdum'?"

She laughed. "That too!"

"Gee, I am so blessed," I said, trying my best to keep a straight face.

Contentment, peace, and serenity - these feelings overwhelmed us as we lay side by side on the sand, gazing at the orange-hued sky. The sun was drowning in the horizon, its glimmering rays making the green hills coppery in the sunset. A flock of swallows flew above us, their scimitar wings slashing the air as they went. The moaning wind was cold, spearing through our thick clothing and prickling our skins.

"Time to go," I said, getting up. "It's going to be dark soon."

"I'm still bushed!"

"But we have rested long enough to catch our breaths."

"Hey, I am not as fit as you."

"Okay, okay. In this case, I'll carry you back."

"Would you please?" she said, extending her hands.

"You want me to carry you back, you sneaky bugger!" I cried when I saw through her little game.

She nodded, batting her eyes and flashing her most angelic smile at me, melting my heart like April snow - how could I refuse? I lifted her up, and as she clung on my back, arms loosely about my neck, legs clasped tightly under my arms, we made our journey back to the pavilion. Luckily she was not heavy.

"Ake, suppose I weigh two hundred pounds, would you still carry me?" she asked as though she knew what I was thinking.

To be continued ...

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 ...

Chapter Four - (7 & final part)

The following morning we slept in late and woke to the sound of Ah Tong knocking the door to bring the newspaper and our breakfast - two bowls of chicken porridge, fried dough, and hard-boiled eggs - which we ate at the table in our pajamas. At the same time I browsed through the paper; there were no further updates on Song Jiao-ren. I was a bit disappointed. The no news is good news proverb certainly did not apply to me here. I was also surprised at myself. In all my previous assignments I would just do my job, not giving a hoot about who my victims were, and move on. But this Song Jiao-ren character was different; I was keen to know more about him, feel for him even. Did the Almighty grant me the cruel privilege of being a human at last?

Perhaps Lau Beng could make some sense out of this conspiracy, as Suet-foong called it, and enlighten me when I got back. I may be good with the gun, but I am a bit of a greenhorn when it comes to politics. Anyway I could not care less about all this political wrangling - it was very wearisome to me. What I wanted now was to enjoy my month-long vacation; I had not taken a decent break in ages.

"A penny for your thoughts," said Suet-foong when she saw me looking pensive.

"I was thinking of Lau Beng," I replied. "He's my sifu. You remember the old goat, don't you?"

She smiled sweetly before drinking her cup of tea. "Yes, you told me all about him when we were having our dinner near my studio the other night," she replied, wiping her mouth with her serviette. "He's a former gun trafficker who took you under his wing and trained you to become a hit-man or a liquidator as you like to be known - you say it sounds more sophisticated. He's long-winded, but he has a heart of gold, and he's a surrogate father to you." She paused. "Goodness me, you call your sifu 'old goat' ... directly at him?"

"Err, no ... only when his back is turned."

She chuckled. "I've got a name for my father too."

"Really?" I asked. This was getting to be amusing, I thought. "And you tell him straight to his face?"

"Of course, I'm not chicken-hearted like you."

"Wow! I admire your guts! What do you call him, eh? Old cow? Limp-dick? Useless codger?"

"No. I call him Pa."