Skeleton Women

by Mingmei Yip

  I peeked at Lung. He looked extremely happy, even relaxed, a rare moment for him. Of course with all these bodyguards around him and the audience having been meticulously screened, what could possibly go wrong?

  But the dance wasn’t over. The two men on top jumped down, and the lion began to cavort again, playing with the vegetable, tearing it up, chewing it, and scattering its pieces all over the ground.

  Lung, Mr. Zhu, the abbot, and Chief Li yelled, “Excellent! Money will flow in endlessly like the Huangpu River!”

  As I watched, the lion approached Lung and opened its mouth. Lung’s hand plunged into his pocket. My heart skipped a beat. Was Lung pulling a gun? But then I realized that it was time for the lion to receive its fat red lucky-money envelope.

  Just then a thunderous sound racked the air. All looked up and saw the smoke from huge strings of firecrackers exploding right above the gambling den. Red confetti showered down upon the crowd, another symbol of good luck.

  But from the corner of my eye I spotted the opposite.

  The man inside the lion’s-head mask, his face still hidden, took out a gun and fired at Master Lung. Because the firecrackers were still thundering out good luck, nobody noticed the assassination attempt except me.

  A loud “Help! Master Lung is shot!” involuntarily shot out from my mouth as I saw Lung fall to the ground, followed by his even louder “Aiya!”

  Then I bit the inside of my lips until I tasted blood.

  How stupid!

  What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut and let Lung bleed to death?! Had Lung died right here and now, I would be done with my near-impossible mission!

  It took a few seconds for Lung’s gang to realize what had happened. Gao was the first to react, leaning over his boss to shield him against any more bullets. But all that was to be seen of the lion was the costume lying deflated on the grass. Gao tore off Lung’s bloodstained silk gown and, after a brief examination, declared that his boss was fine, since the bullet had missed his heart.

  “Are you sure?” Zhu, the abbot, Chief Li, and a few other dignitaries barked simultaneously.

  “Honorable guests”—Gao looked relieved and shaken up at the same time—“Master Lung is fine. The bullet hit his dragon amulet and bounced off. The bleeding was nothing serious, just from his skin being grazed.”

  Right after Gao finished, Zhu pushed him aside, probably to resume his right-hand man status. As he put his handkerchief on his boss’s chest to soak up the blood, he screamed, “Call an ambulance!”

  Lung suddenly sprang up, yelling, “Go chase the lion dancers!”

  Immediately Chief Li and his team, together with Gao and his bodyguards, pushed aside the onlookers and dashed away.

  Seeing that the gangster head was indeed very much alive, everybody clapped. The abbot leaned toward Lung, smiling. “Master Lung, anyone who impossibly survives such a calamity will be blessed by many generations of good luck and longevity!”

  Danan Busi, biyou houfu.

  Then I noticed Rainbow Chang trying to approach us but being stopped by Zhu. It was obvious that the right-hand man didn’t like the columnist. Did he have reason to be suspicious of her?

  A few moments later, the group that had set out to chase the lion dancers came back. But to Lung and Zhu’s bitter disappointment, they were empty-handed. Chief Li announced that they had found three dead bodies just behind the temple. To everyone’s disappointment, the bodies were not those of the would-be assassins but those of the real lion dancers.

  This is what the Chinese call fang bu sheng fang: Being careful is no guarantee for success.

  Lung struggled to stand up, then slapped Gao and the other bodyguards. Obscenities, including cutting off their father’s turtle head and fornicating their collective mothers’ vaginas, spewed from his mouth like lava from a volcano. I was taken aback to hear Lung speak with such vulgarity. But then I realized that this was the former shoe-shine boy revealing himself in public.

  Then another surprise followed. He slapped the abbot.

  “Damn you and your mother’s cunt! You told me you’d screened the lion dancers!”

  The abbot lowered his head, looking humiliated and terrified. “I ... I ...” he stuttered. “I did, many ... times, very thoroughly. But ... how was I supposed to know that the assassins would murder them and take over the performance?”

  Zhu shot the abbot his I-will-wipe-out-your-whole-family look. “Shut up! Don’t you know the rule that no one talks back to the master? !”

  The abbot’s head dropped almost to his navel. “Yes, yes, of course. I’m ... sorry, so sorry.”

  Besides Zhu, Police Chief Li was the only person who was spared by Lung, so he was happy to play the mediator. “Master Lung, everything is okay. Trust me, we will catch the assassins soon.”

  “You’d better, Chief,” Lung said, then turned to me—to my surprise—with a big smile. “Camilla, your dragon amulet saved my life.” He touched my cheek affectionately. “You’re also the first one who screamed for help.” Then he made a sweeping gesture to include everyone. “From now on I declare Miss Camilla my lucky star!”

  Everyone clapped.

  “Master Lung, thank you.” I smiled demurely. “Of course I’ll do anything to protect you, always.”

  I bit my inner lip. Lucky star or not, now I had to think of another way to have him killed. Damn my unintended benevolence!

  Lung yelled to no one in particular, “Now take me back home!”

  Zhu leaned toward him and said gently, “Master, the ambulance will be here any minute. It’s better to be checked by a doctor to make sure everything is all right.”

  In no time an ambulance pulled to a stop in front of the temple. Two uniformed attendants jumped down and dashed over to lift Lung onto a stretcher. Zhu, Gao, and I hopped in to accompany our boss to the hospital.

  With Lung safely under the care of doctors and nurses, I was finally able to return home at nine in the evening. I sprawled on the sofa and poured myself a whiskey. After a few sips alternated with sighs, I called Big Brother Wang to report today’s happenings—except, of course, my stupid screaming.

  From miles away, his voice rushed to attack my eardrum. “Damn! I wonder who was behind this. You’re sure he’s okay?”

  “Yes.”

  His response surprised me. “Good.”

  “Why’s that, Big Brother Wang?”

  “Because once he’s dead, I’m afraid it’ll be much harder to get his secret bank account and other information. So be nice to him and nurture him back to health so he’ll trust and love you more.”

  “I will certainly do that.”

  “Report back to me any further news about his condition.”

  “I will.”

  “That’s a good girl.”

  “Thank you, Big Brother Wang.”

  I discovered that with my boss, I was beginning to sound more and more like a parrot.

  Then he said, “One more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “Next time, if you have a once-in-a-lifetime chance to kill him, just do it. I will figure out how to get his list later. Understand?”

  I felt a chill crawling up and down my spine. Today’s near-assassination made it all the more real to me. Did he really want me, a nineteen-year-old girl, to commit murder myself? I’d practiced singing, ballroom dancing, knife-throwing, contortionism, but kill a man? How was I supposed to practice that?

  But I would never forget the rule of not talking back or saying no to my boss. I uttered a submissive, “Of course, Big Brother Wang.”

  Though feeling extremely exhausted and anxious, that night I could hardly close my eyes as the assassination scene kept spinning in my mind, along with the question: Who had sent those lion dancers?

  Of course, besides my boss, Big Brother Wang, there were many other warlords in Shanghai eager to get rid of Lung. The one who succeeded might then be able to take over all his lucrative businesses: prostitution, ga
mbling, opium, smuggling ... even the newly opened gambling den in Eternal Luck Temple.

  The next morning, the first thing I did was to pour myself a glass of milk and flip through the Leisure News to read Rainbow Chang’s column.

  Attempted Assassination

  Yesterday, during the Eternal Luck Temple’s opening ceremony for its good-luck den, three lion dancers attempted to gun down the Flying Dragons’ boss, Master Lung.

  Fortunately, due to Lung’s frequent visits to consult a mysterious fortune-teller, he was wearing a highly efficacious amulet. It was this amulet, in the shape of a soaring dragon, that stopped the bullet and saved his life. It is rumored that Lung has now hired this fortune-teller to serve him exclusively, because there’s no way the Flying Dragons’ boss will let others share this kind of luck.

  Anyway, who are these assassins? No, my question should be: who is behind these assassins?

  On a lighter note, at the ceremony, I also had the pleasure to encounter two beautiful skeleton women, Camilla, the Heavenly Songbird, and Lung’s new flame, the magician Shadow. Both graced the ceremony with their stunning beauty and charm.

  More to follow... .

  Rainbow Chang

  I put down the newspaper and cursed.

  Damn! Where did she get the idea that the amulet was given by Lung’s fengshui master? It was my gift! But wait ... maybe she thought I’d snubbed her, and she had gotten her revenge by mixing up the information?

  I sighed, because one can be destroyed not only by a bullet but also by a few words.

  It was no secret that Rainbow Chang’s most powerful weapon was to spread rumors, a strategy also favored by the “rumor creation“ departments of several political parties. Spies would be disguised as students, businessmen, office or factory workers, then sent to parks, teahouses, movie theaters, restaurants, and other public places to spread tales about their enemies. Once a powerful rumor starts, even if it is later proved wrong, the damage has been done, and the stain is permanent.

  I picked up the glass of milk and took a meditative sip as another question arose. What if Shadow was at the ceremony, and I didn’t see her? Had the columnist also lied about this, or could the magician really make herself invisible?

  Feeling uneasy, I went into my bedroom to get dressed to visit Lung at the hospital.

  9

  Hospital Visit

  Once I got out of the car in front of the hospital, I saw many reporters crowding the entrance, trying to push through the staff and guards to get inside. Two of Lung’s bodyguards pushed them back to let me in. I hurried through the lobby before any patients or staff milling around could catch sight of me.

  On the third floor, I saw Gao standing guard right outside Lung’s private room. We exchanged greetings, and he assured me that Master Lung was doing well.

  I looked around. “Where’s your partner?’

  “He just went to get something to eat. We’ve been here since yesterday.”

  “So, are you feeling all right?”

  He nodded. “Just doing my job.”

  “Gao, you really take your job seriously.”

  He lowered his big torso so his head was at the same level with mine. “Miss Camilla, I’ll also do anything for you. Just tell me.”

  I leaned back and whispered, “Even dash out into the street and be hit by a car?”

  His expression turned intense and serious. “Only if you’re not joking and it serves a purpose. But do you really mean it?”

  Shocked by his reaction, I giggled. “Of course not, Gao! Just joking!”

  “Then please don’t joke with me, Miss Camilla, ever. Because I’ll always take your word seriously.”

  Staring at his rugged face, I wondered, could I lure and bribe him to kill Lung?

  “Please go in, Miss Camilla, I’m sure Master Lung has been waiting for you.”

  Gao knocked, then opened the door. When I moved past him into the room, I felt his body heat gently wrapping around me like a blanket.

  The door closed behind me with a soft click. Inside the spacious, medicinal-smelling room, Zhu was watching his boss slurp a bowl of steaming rice soup.

  I smiled and nodded to Zhu, then went to peck Lung’s cheek. Sitting down next to my patron, I reached to smooth his hair as if he were my little boy. Only after Lung had proclaimed me his lucky star would I have the nerve to make this daring move in front of his right-hand man.

  “Master Lung, it is said that heaven favors the lucky,” I cooed. “You are indeed the luckiest man in China.”

  He put down his soup and grabbed my hand. “Is that so, my little pretty?”

  “Of course. Even the bullet was afraid of you, so it made a last-minute detour.”

  He turned to Zhu. “Ha-ha-ha! That’s why Camilla is my favorite. I just love beautiful women with a sugared tongue and a brain stuffed with clever phrases!”

  In the orphanage, I had never been considered a sweet child; otherwise I might have been adopted by a family much sooner. In that comfortless institution, I never smiled, didn’t make friends, and withdrew into my own world of reading and thinking. Though the orphanage had a decent library, it was rarely visited, so most of the time I’d be left alone there to enter a happier and more orderly world merely by flipping pages.

  The reason I’d finally been taken out of the orphanage by Mr. Ho, boss of the Bright Moon Nightclub, was not only that he found me pretty but because he deemed me the most intelligent of the lot. Most of the girls there couldn’t write their own name properly or even tell the difference between a book and a box. Because I like to read, I was able to educate myself. But the last thing I’d ever imagined was that liking to read would lead me to warm the bed of Shanghai’s most powerful gangster head.

  I picked up Lung’s bowl of rice soup and said, “Master Lung, why don’t you let me feed you so you can save your energy for more important things? Shanghai is praying for your speedy recovery.”

  Lung smiled. “Ha-ha! Of course, but give me a kiss first.”

  I leaned to press my lips to his soggy ones.

  Zhu lowered his head to read his newspaper, pretending not to see our flirtation. Lung was as happy to see me today as a sick child his mother. But an old saying is that being with the emperor is like walking beside a tiger; at any moment he might turn mean and devour you. So at every moment I was watching Lung’s expressions and gestures, trying to guess his thoughts, always apprehensive I would make a wrong move.

  After I finished feeding him, I asked, “Master Lung, do you need anything? Snacks, magazines, newspaper?”

  He touched my cheek with his bony fingers. “My men will get me whatever I need.” Then he thought for a moment. “But, Camilla, you can sing a song for me.”

  As I hesitated, Zhu lowered his newspaper to cast me a stern look. “Just pick a song to entertain your boss.”

  I decided to sing “I Can’t Stop Thinking of You.” I cleared my throat, half closed my eyes, and began:

  As the breeze moves my hair, I can’t stop thinking of you.

  The moon is in love with the sea,

  The sea falls in love with the moon,

  During this silvery, honeyed evening,

  How can I not think of you? ...

  Unexpectedly, as I sang, the face that appeared in my mind’s eye was not the old man’s but his son’s. While I was trying to blink away this disturbing image, the door opened, and in walked the same man who had just intruded upon my vision. Startled, I abruptly stopped singing.

  When our eyes met, the young master said, “Please don’t stop your lovely song, Miss Camilla.”

  Zhu waved a dismissive hand at his boss’s son. “It’s all right. Camilla had a long day yesterday and must be tired. Let her take a break.”

  “Of course,” Jinying said. Then he went to sit on the bed next to Lung, asking, “Father, how are you feeling today?”

  Lung smiled, the corners of his lips soaring as high as a crane. “Jinying, I’m fine. What a luxury that
I’m forced to rest, don’t you think, huh?”

  Surrounded by his fengshui son, his lucky-star mistress, and his most trusted man, no wonder Lung looked relaxed and genuinely happy. That was the best moment to kill a person—when his guard was down. Too bad I was not ready.

  The son cast me a quick look, then said to his old man, “Glad to hear Father’s having a good rest.”

  “That’s why I’ve asked you so many times to help me run the business. But you don’t care to help your old father. Don’t you know many men in Shanghai would run over their own mother to grab this chance? A son should follow his father’s wishes for him. But you won’t. Why is that? I don’t understand.” He tapped his temple to emphasize his point. “Was your mind poisoned by those nonsense lectures at HarFud?”

  “Father, I’ve told you many times that it’s pronounced Harvard, ” Jinying exclaimed as he quickly glanced at me.

  Today was only the second time I had seen Lung and his son together. I found it amusing that this powerful, ruthless man actually showed another side to his nature. Good. This could be his major weakness, his son. He was a loving, indulgent father—the same man who had thrown his mistress to feed pet tigers.

  Then I wondered, why was I so keen to find out other people’s weaknesses? True, I had to seek Lung’s. But did others figure out mine? I knew I had to hide from others my detachment, my emotional void, my scheming heart... . But were these weaknesses or strengths? Breathing the hospital’s unpleasant air, I felt confused and didn’t like the feeling.