The Pidgin Warrior

by Tianyi Zhang

  Shi Zhaochang looked at her putting the money in her bag. Another twenty! Fifty altogether.

  “Not too expensive,” he said to himself.

  In the future when they go out to do great deeds and fighting injustice, her mud-pellets would be a great help. All told he had only spent fifty in foreign dollars.

  The Woman Warrior of National Salvation had a thought. She always had to ask this Shi to donate a bit more. Sitting in the rickshaw, her two hands grasped her purse tightly. She turned her head around to look at the rickshaw behind her, but couldn’t see Shi Zhaochang. She huffed. After a while, she turned back again as if she were afraid Shi Zhaochang might have escaped.

  That man simply didn’t understand the rules at all la. No one in the world is that cheap! Really!

  The rickshaws pulled up to a stop in the longtang alley, and the man and woman were face to face. She didn’t move. According to the rules, the man should come over and open the door. He didn’t move. He had already given her fifty dollars, and wasn’t going to always be made to pay.

  The Woman Warrior of National Salvation smiled. “I don’t have any change la.”

  “Hm?”

  “You, ah… have any change la?”

  “Just now… just now… you are… didn’t I just give you twenty dollars?”

  “That’s in bills la. I don’t have any change la.”

  “Go change them.”

  She didn’t pay any attention to that jab, and simply popped open the door.”

  Shi Zhaochang’s face flushed red like raw beef. He muttered something to himself while with a seeming great effort his right hand dug out two Guangdong double dimes.

  “Sir, can you swap these out please? These coins are lead.”

  “Bullshit!” He glared at the two rickshaw drivers. “I, Shi Zhaochang… Everyone knows I spend money to fight for justice. Would I cheat you over twenty cents?”

  “It really is lead. I’ll hit it and you’ll hear…”

  “Get the hell out of here!” Shi Zhaochang bellowed. “How come I can’t use a perfectly fine dime! Bastard!”

  He walked toward the door, but the rickshaw drivers wouldn’t let him go.

  “What!” Shi Zhaochang dropped into his stance, measuring up his two opponents.

  The two men didn’t look like they would be hard to overcome. That young arm was a rough one, breathing unevenly with his chest sticking out. At most he was Shaolin School. The older one looked dazed. Red nose, hunched back. But who could say the old man might not have some internal gongfu…

  Shi Zhaochang’s eyes focused on the tip of the old one’s red nose.

  Internal gongfu—the old man might be a match! He didn’t have time to pull a rickshaw and practice internal gongfu, did he?...

  There was a sudden burst of women’s voices from inside the doorway:

  “Manli’s back!”

  “Old Tao’s waitin’ fer ya upstairs.”

  “Old Tao! Old Tao! Manli’s come back!”

  “Mary! Mary!”

  “Old Tao’s been waitin’ forever!”

  The warrior outside the door knit his brow. He thought of turning to look, but didn’t dare. I feared the two rickshaw drivers would bolt if he relaxed one iota.

  “Sir, please swap out the coin.”

  “Fuck your mother!”

  A crowd gathered to watch the commotion.

  If there was a fight, it wouldn’t go well. Shi Zhaochang had been in his stance for a long time, and his legs were going soft. But right then he couldn’t relax: You could never tell with Evil people, they might attack without warning.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Someone asked.

  The young rickshaw driver and Shi Zhaochang started talking all at once. Shi Zhaochang had more to say, so when the other went quiet, he still hadn’t ended. He was going over and over about what kind of people they were and about their position.

  “How could I, Shi Zhaochang, con these men out of twenty cents, I, Shi Zhaochang…”

  “This lead coin is his, this guy wanted to roll us…”

  Crack! A slap to the face of the young rickshaw driver.

  “Fuck your ma!” He rushed at him for all he was worth, but others held him back, and he roared out.

  A thirty-or-so year old woman looked at Shi Zhaochang, popped open her purse and handed a twenty cent coin to the rickshaw driver.

  “There now. Go.”

  The red-nosed old man saluted her several times, looked back at Shi Zhaochang, muttered something and pulled his empty rickshaw away.

  The young one threw the lead coin on the ground and spat out, “that’s for you!”

  The coin rolled into the groove at the side of the cement road—where the greasy sewage drained.

  Shi Zhaochang didn’t come out of his stance until the crowd had dispersed.

  “Hehe, if you’re giving it to me, I’ll take it. Only a real idiot wouldn’t.”

  Shi Zhaochang picked up the coin, wiped the grease off with his finger, and put it in his pocket. Then in one stride he moved through the door. He shut the door with a Taiji Quan “cloud hand”.

  “Mister Shi, welcome!” shrieked a bare-legged woman with a swing of her backside.

  Mr. Shi didn’t pay much attention to her. He rushed straight upstairs.

  As soon as he pushed open the door, he felt like he had jumped in a barrel of ice water—his entire body froze solid.

  11

  Heartbreak

  The Woman Warrior of National Salvation’s room was as it had been. Sofa. Table. Pink curtains. Copper bed—with the comforter drawn open at an angle. The wall was still covered with all those women in negligee. The coal in the stove was popping.

  Everything was as it had been. On the sofa lounged the Woman Warrior of National Salvation. Her purse and embroidered handkerchiefs were on the table next to a milk glass.

  Everything was as it had been, except… to the lap of the Woman Warrior of National Salvation was added a great hunk of a man.

  Shi Zhaochang clenched his fists. His fingers went cold. His eyes popped out like a goldfish’s, staring like he would never close them ever again. He panted for breath.

  The hunk jumped up. He was half a head taller than Shi Zhaochang. His brows looked like they had been vigorously painted with a thick brush in a horizontal like right over his eyes. His eyes squinted down into two lines. He thick lips pushed out like a chicken gizzard. He glared at Shi Zhaochang, then looked at the Woman Warrior of National Salvation—as if to ask, “who is this?”

  The woman batted her eyes at the hunk and shrugged her shoulders. Then, giggling at Shi Zhaochang, she said, “Please sit down la. Lemme introduce you la: This is Mi-suh-tuo Tao…”

  Silence.

  Shi Zhaochang’s body didn’t move. His mouth didn’t move. He didn’t know what to say. He had never encountered this before. He took in a lungful of air and held it, but he accidentally let it out again with a loud gasp—

  “Phooo!”

  The two were surprised.

  The women downstairs were noisily chattering away: Some were humming songs, others were complaining.

  “How’d you go an let that poor sod up?”

  “He jist went up himself, dint he?”

  “Where’s your eyes at? Your eyes?”

  Another one was actually speaking good Mandarin:

  “What a mess la! Mary’s gunna give us what for!”

  A moment passes.

  “That stiff seems to be really taking it serious.”

  Shi Zhaochang understood some of what was said. What. Don’t let that ‘stiff’ upstairs?

  That Missed-Whatever-Tao, glared at Shi Zhaochang. With an effort, he thought about closing up those gizzard lips of his. But they wouldn’t close: they always hung out of his mouth like that. His
brow furrowed, two eyebrows became one.

  “Please sit.”

  Shi Zhaochang did not sit.

  The Woman Warrior of National Salvation loudly and politely said:

  “Why ain’tcha sittin?”

  “I must be going.” Shi Zhaochang said with labored breath.

  The hunk and the Woman Warrior of National Salvation looked at each other. The hunk let out a breath and sat his butt down on the sofa. With a smooth gesture he picked up the embroidered handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow.

  Miss He nodded at Shi Zhaochang:

  “Then I’ll seeya later la”

  “Wait,” Shi Zhaochang’s voice trembled. “There is something else we have to discuss. We… we…”

  The four eyes locked on Shi Zhaochang. Shi Zhaochang rubbed his scalp, licked his lips and said nothing for a long time.

  The others were waiting for him.

  That Missed-Whatever-Tao abruptly stood up. Shi Zhaochang was startled and took a step back. Eh, maybe this guy…

  Dear Reader can imagine: Of course, this warrior secretly got into his stance.

  Be careful, hey! If you start a fight—You’ll be disappointed!

  But for a long while no one moved.

  “What?...”

  The hunk had only walked to the stove, opened the door and looked inside. Then he wiped his lips with his hand, and looked at the women in negligee on the wall. Then, oh! Look carefully! The guy put his hand in his pocket!

  A secret weapon!

  A secret weapon?

  Uh, the guy pulled out a cigar.

  “Damnit!” Shi Zhaochang blew a mouthful of air out of puffed cheeks.

  Suddenly—

  “If ya got sumptin to say… Something… why dontcha say it la?”

  Ah, Shi Zhaochang had nearly forgotten the Woman Warrior of National Salvation was right there.

  “Weh, weh, uh… Yeah, ah, We… we…”

  “Spit it out la.”

  “I… I… We… I mean, we… We need to settle accounts.”

  “Settle accounts?!” The Warrior Woman of National Salvation considered if she should add a ‘la.’

  “Yes. Settle accounts, settle… settle… You owe me fifty dollars.”

  Miss He pushed her face up to him—there was a bit of a fishy smell.

  “How do I owe you fifty dollars la. You donated that to the Modern Patriotic Song and Dance Troupe la. There’s no account to settle la.”

  “We… we…” Shi Zhaochang peeked over at that Missed-Whatever-Tao. “Let’s go outside and talk.”

  That hunk watched the two of them.

  The stove popped and crackled.

  All of a sudden there was a shout like an anguished cry for help from downstairs:

  “I love your Yangtze River, ah, ah!...”

  The Woman Warrior of National Salvation’s matchstick legs stomped the beat, and, in a sing-song voice she said:

  “Nuh-uh!. dong, dong dong. dong, dong dong, DONG, dong dong. DONG, dong dong!”

  Shi Zhaochang’s breathing was uneven. He rubbed his hands in bewilderment. He sat down on a chair without realizing it, still looking at the Warrior Woman of National Salvation. Ah, what trouble: Those gongfu novels never dealt with this. How should this be handled? He did have to make it clear. He took in a lung-full of air and did his best to calm himself, but when he started to speak he still stuttered:

  “We…I despise Evil: You are… You are… We’re over!... You’ve got another…got…”

  He gazed at the hunk with hatred.

  “What’s so important ‘bout that la?”

  “At first… at first… We’d do good deeds together, but you… I can’t love... I! I!”

  My dear reader of course knows the position Shi Zhaochang is in. It is called: Heartbreak. It is said that heartbreak is painful, and so we should not wonder at this warrior’s miserable visage. Shi Zhaochang was hurt, and not lightly. He wanted to drive off that hunk. He wanted to plead with the Woman Warrior of National Salvation never again to pay that hunk any attention, and not let him sit on her lap.

  He stood up.

  “Ah!” Miss He shrieked. As if she were afraid someone might hit her, she dashed to the hunk’s side, and was going to nestle her head on his shoulder, but he was too tall, so she put her head on his chest, all the while peeking at her own pose—checking if it was pretty enough.

  That Missed-Whatever-Tao knew what he was supposed to do: he put his arm around Miss He’s shoulder, puffed out his chest and looked at Shi Zhaochang, stared at him.

  Shi Zhaochang leaned on the table with his right arm.

  “You…You…”

  The Woman Warrior of National Salvation knew what Shi Zhaochang meant. She shrugged, straightened up and the corners of her mouth dipped. About ten seconds went by that way, and then she quickly spat out a mouthful of Mandarin:

  “Don’t be so stupid la! You donated fifty dollars la, and this Mi-suh-tuo Tao donated five hundred dollars la! You fifty dollars la! Fifty dollars gets fifty dollars’ worth la! Don’t think you’re gunna eat swan la! I love ‘im la! You jist don’t understand even one little bit of morality la! You poor stiff la, you got no face la!”

  Shi Zhaochang was struck dumb. He understood about half, but the half he understood was plenty. He felt like he was standing in a snowstorm.

  “It’s over la! Dammit!”

  How to make an exit then? Fight? The Woman Warrior of National Salvation was skilled—setting all else aside, her mud-pellets were unendurable. That hunk was probably an evil monk from some temple or other. Even though Shi Zhaochang was studying swordsmanship, he still hadn’t mastered Passing Though Earth, Water, Wood, and Metal. Master said he shouldn’t try it until he had it down perfectly.

  “Ah!” He said.

  If this had only happened two days later he wouldn’t have cared: in two days his discipleship would be over… So this was the end of it: he wouldn’t even get the capital back on that fifty dollars.

  “Not worth it all all…” he muttered.’

  “Whaddya mean not worth it la? I sat on your lap twice la! That’s twenty-seven minutes of sitting all together la. And I k’ed your iss five times la! How’s that not worth fifty dollars la? And you saw one of my performances too la…”

  “Well, I paid for the show,” Shi Zhaochang said with a sigh, hurt. “And just now there’s the rickshaw fare, eh? That was me.”

  “You got your money’s worth la. You have to understand the market here la.”

  Shi Zhaochang couldn’t speak. It was like his heart was being squeezed tight, and his lungs were being pressed. He wanted to leap up and beat some people, wanted to shatter the tables and chairs in the room to pieces. He had to scream wildly before he could be happy again.

  But he couldn’t move rashly.

  But he could control his tone either.

  “Evil! Evil!” His voice cracked. “Emperor Fumo in Heaven, I must… I must…”

  “Eh? What’s all this?!” The voice was clear and strong: The hunk. “Don’t get yourself all cocky!” The guy brought up a fist. “Be smart, friend. You keep up this racket, and I’ll, pow!”

  “You you you!”

  Suddenly—That hunk took a long stride toward Shi Zhaochang.

  Suddenly—All the vigor in Shi Zhaochang’s body went limp.

  Oh, good Shi Zhaochang!—He had a plan. The specifics of his plan?—Turn around and run!

  “Don’t be taken in by them. Hehe. Thought I didn’t know: You demon monk, you’re all Evil. A hero doesn’t fall for a trap he sees. Spending fifty dollars doesn’t matter a bit—a hero spends money for the justice. Accounts will be settled later. In two days, I, Shi Zhaochang, must…”

  He ran downstairs in one breath and bolted out the back door.

 
A gust of cold air. He closed his mouth and shivered hard.

  12

  The True Form of the Living Immortal

  All the lights were on in the room at the Shi house. The guest room was full of people. Everyone was chatting and picking their teeth. Everyone’s faces were flushed. Everyone had just finished their meal: This, the author has just forgotten to relate. Honestly, the circumstances of the meal aren’t worth going into in detail. The dear reader can well imagine it: For example, of course Mr. Liu Liu didn’t eat much, just three bowls of thin dough noodle soup, five poached eggs, a little alcohol, some vegetables. In any case, he was planning on having fish porridge later that evening. Also, because Elder Mister Shi Boxiang was a junior classmate of Ancestor Lu, The Supreme Ultimate Master of course had to partake of that of the smoke and fire of the human realm, until even now his chin dripped with oil.

  Mr. Liu Liu was carefully talking about the current situation: They were piling up sandbags and wire netting on XX Temple Street. It all looked quite serious.

  “There will certainly be a battle. Last night, at Sean You Zoo & Co…”

  “I heard the Chinese workers beat some kind of XX monk to death,” Shi Boxiang wiped his few strands of beard with a napkin folded neatly into a rectangle, looking at this and that.

  Elder Brother Disciple wanted to join in, but he was hiccupping something awful, causing him a lot of suffering, so he rubbed his belly and couldn’t speak a word.

  “Workers killed a monk?” Shi Zhaochang’s eyes opened. His face was a little pale today.

  Someone in a purple tie stood up, rubbed his hands and spoke to Shi Zhaochang in a lecturing voice:

  “The workers were Chinese. The monks were XX monks. Toward this affair, our Campaign Against the Barbarians Fund Committee takes…”

  “Who are the Evil ones and who are the Good ones?”

  “What?” This brought the purple tie up short.

  “I said… I said…” Shi Zhaochang licked his lips. “Monks believe in the bodhisattvas, which are Good of course. But… But… But… They’re devils. Whose side should we take?”

  “The Chinese, of course…”

  But a tall man in western clothes patted him on the shoulder.