by Mingmei Yip
She might have intended this as a compliment, but the effect was the opposite. I thought I had already taken over Shanghai, and I definitely didn’t want to see Shadow doing the same. Yes, she was getting a lot of attention lately, but she was still many steps behind me in terms of fame and fortune, and I wanted it to stay that way.
Shadow threw Rainbow a flirtatious glance. “Thank you, Miss Chang, I certainly hope so. But what about yourself?”
“What about me?” The androgynous columnist raised one perfectly painted eyebrow. “I believe I’ve already attained my little bit of fame and fortune, so lately what I’ve sought is love.” She cast me a meaningful stare, giving me a chill.
“So, have you found what you’ve been looking for?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“Yes and no. As you know, like friends or the wind, love comes and goes.”
I was not sure what she was suggesting but did not want to get into a discussion about it, so I contented myself with returning her meaningful stare. “Maybe. Now, why don’t we enjoy our friendship, food, and the evening while they last?”
After a very satisfactory meal complete with copious wine to soothe our dry throats from all the talking, I invited Shadow and Rainbow to the spare room that I used to rehearse.
I signaled them to sit, then announced, “Shadow and Rainbow, Shanghai people know me as a singer, but I am more than that... .” I paused, staring at Shadow for a response.
“Of course,” she said, “you’re also a contortionist.”
Rainbow smiled. “I heard about that but regretfully had not been invited to Master Lung’s Manchurian Banquet to be stunned by your performance.”
“But you’ll see it and more tonight.”
Shadow asked, sounding a little upset, “More? What is it?”
Rainbow raised another painted eyebrow to ask the same question in silence.
“You’ll see.” I smiled mysteriously. “Please have some more wine, and I’ll be right back.”
After that, I went into the bathroom to take off my cheongsam and change into a black tunic. Then I kicked off my high heels and put on a pair of soft, flat shoes. When I returned, Rainbow was studying me like a teenage boy a woman’s nude picture.
She smiled. “My eyes are ready to be stunned.”
Shadow also smiled but didn’t say anything. Of course she already knew how good I was. But tonight she was yet to witness my other stunt—knife-throwing.
Even though my audience consisted of only two people, I bowed as deeply as I did to my fans at the Bright Moon. “Ladies, I am now going to expose my inadequacy.”
The two clapped enthusiastically. Of course they well understood that “expose my inadequacy” was but a euphemism for “show off my ultimate skill.” Arrogance wrapped in modesty.
Holding six knives, I faced the target hanging on the wall ten feet away. I meditated, focusing my energy on the red dot in the middle, imagining it as Shadow’s blood. Then, Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! Even before my audience had time to blink, the six knives had flown from my hand like bullets from a gun, now protruding from the target in a perfect circle around the red dot.
Shadow and Rainbow’s jaws dropped, but no words came from their mouths.
Rainbow exclaimed, “What can I say?”
Shadow asked, a little sarcastically, “Is this some kind of magic I never knew existed?”
I smiled inside; they had no idea that my ultimate skill was yet to be revealed.
“Thank you.” I bowed, pulled the knives from the target board, then went to the gramophone to put on a record. As an eerie jazz tune began to fill the room, I walked to the carpet placed in the middle of the room. Slowly I began to raise myself on one hand, my other hand holding the six knives. Soon I was upside down with my legs in a straight line, forming the English letter T. Again, the knives flew from my hand to form a perfect circle surrounding the red dot.
Before they had a chance to applaud, I had already changed into another posture—feet and one hand on the floor like a spider’s, torso facing upward and face inverted. Again, Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! This time a heart-shaped form appeared on the target board.
When I finally returned my limbs to their normal positions, the two looked at me as if I had just come from another realm.
As she clapped, Rainbow’s eyes were rounded like two soy sauce dishes. “Camilla, you took my breath away, literally. I feared that even my slightest exhalation might blow this magic moment away. Are you also a magician like Shadow? Surely what I just saw could not have happened.”
Shadow’s brow knit briefly upon hearing the word magician, but she quickly regained her calm and put on a forced smile. “Camilla, if you open a class to teach, I’ll be the first to enroll.”
“It is you who should be my teacher, Shadow. If you are ever willing to pass on your magic, I’ll be your first student.”
“So, should we trade lessons?”
Of course she was not going to let me know her magic in exchange for my knife-throwing and contortionist skill. My skill could be attained by anyone with the right talent and years of relentless practice, but her repertory used secrets that would likely accompany her to her grave, unless she could be persuaded to part with them for an astronomical sum.
The three of us continued to throw compliments back and forth like Ping-Pong balls.
Finally Rainbow peeked at her watch. “Camilla, thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home and treating me with such delicious food, exquisite wine, and a stunning show. As much as I’d love to stay, I am on deadline for my article for tomorrow’s Leisure News.”
“Of course, Rainbow, don’t let me hold you up. Thank you for coming and spending your precious time with us.”
“Maybe I should leave, too,” Shadow said, about to stand up. “You must be tired; we should not keep you up.”
I made a gesture for her to sit. “No, Shadow, please stay and have one more glass of wine with me. You don’t have articles to write, do you?”
“No, I can stay a little longer.”
That was exactly what I wanted.
After Rainbow left, I took Shadow to my study. As we sat and chatted, I refilled her glass again—hoping to get her as drunk as possible.
I could see that she tried to hold back, but she couldn’t resist the expensive, rare—and free—wine. As I saw the struggle on her face, a saying in The Art of War emerged in my mind: By waiting for your enemy’s moment of vulnerability, you’ll surely triumph.
I asked, “Shadow, would you like to see my art collection?”
Her eyes were glazed with alcohol. “You collect art?”
“Yes, but only recently. I didn’t have much money in the past.”
“I love art but can’t possibly afford even a small piece.”
“But your magic shows were packed... .” I was hoping to get some idea of her finances. Her home was modest, but that did not mean she wasn’t hiding money away somewhere.
“Oh, Camilla. You know, my kind of shows are expensive to put on, and most of the ticket sales at the Ciro Nightclub don’t go to me. Besides, the disappearing act was free, and so was Lung’s. I’m still struggling... .” She looked at me intently. “How did you become so rich?”
What a foolish question. Of course I was not going to tell her how I did it—nor that I was not nearly as rich as she thought. “Oh, my story is not very interesting. Maybe I’ll bore you with it some other day. Now let’s look at my collection.”
I brought out and let her touch some of my—actually Wang’s—most expensive pieces. First was a Ming ivory statue of Guan Yin, the Goddess of Compassion, then a pair of Qing dynasty celadon vases, and finally a jade lotus pod. Then I opened one of my jewelry boxes, revealing to her envious eyes a gold filigree necklace, translucent jade earrings, and a dragonfly brooch encrusted with diamonds and emeralds.
When I placed the dragonfly brooch in her hand, she caressed it like Lung stroking my breasts. By now she m
ust be dying to have my rich, pampered life.
“Camilla, if you don’t mind my asking again, how did you become so famous and so rich so fast?”
“It was not as fast as you think. I worked very hard, just like you, Shadow. But of course it’s also dumb luck. I happen to have a voice that people love, so they are willing to pay anything to hear it.”
In her drunken state, Shadow threw me an unexpected question. “Does Master Lung pay ...” Then she stopped.
Of course she wanted to know if Lung paid for my luxuries. She must be thinking that if she could steal him from me, she could live my life. But since Lung had shown no interest in her, I could safely enjoy inflaming her envy.
Ignoring her question I decided to further test Shadow’s greed by slipping a small, inexpensive jade ring onto her pinky.
Finally, deciding that that was enough, I said, “Shadow, thank you for coming tonight; I’ve had such a wonderful time. Now it’s almost midnight, and you must be tired. So let me ask my driver, Ah Wen, to take you home.”
When we were at the door, as if by impulse I snatched another bottle of wine from the console table in the foyer. “Please take this.”
She smiled. “Sure, why not?”
As we walked to the car, a saying in The Art of War flashed into my mind:
Preventing defeat depends upon oneself;
To achieve defeat depends on the enemy.
So I smiled at my enemy. “Shadow, let me ride with you. I could use some fresh air after all the wine.”
“You’re so kind, Camilla.”
Inside the vehicle, we continued to chat about this and that, nothing of significance, just idle conversation.
A little later, a car behind us suddenly speeded up and was trying to pass.
“Ah Wen, pull to the side so this car won’t hit us!”
But after passing us, the other car also stopped—right in front of us. A muscular man wearing a mask jumped from the vehicle and dashed toward us..
Shadow exclaimed, her voice filled with fear, “Is he going to rob or kidnap us? Oh, heaven, please, I don’t want to die!”
I took her hand. “Shadow, calm down. If he wants money, I’ll give it to him.”
Then the muscular man flung open the back door and pulled Shadow out.
“No, don’t hurt my friend!” I kicked at the muscular man’s balls. He leaped back and let go of her.
Then he pulled a knife and lunged at me. Instinctively I raised my hands to protect myself, but just then another car came driving up from behind us. Probably wondering if that driver might see something and stop, Muscular dashed back to his own car and sped away. However, the third car just drove by without stopping. Either its driver didn’t see anything or didn’t care.
I got out of the car to check on Shadow. Dead drunk and scared to death, she was now an alcohol-sodden mess, slumped on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
I touched her arm. “Shadow, it’s all right now. The robber is gone.”
She couldn’t be comforted.
“Shadow, we’d better get out of here in case he comes back!”
I helped her get to her feet and back into the car. It was then that I saw the stain on her dress and realized that she’d soiled herself. Worse, my driver, Ah Wen, had disappeared. Instead of fighting the attacker and protecting us, he had abandoned us to save his own meatless ass!
“Coward!” I spat.
Suddenly Shadow cried, “Oh, my heaven, you’ve been stabbed!”
I looked at my forearm and was relieved that the cut was not deep, only a surface scratch. The blood made it look much worse. I used my handkerchief to press on the wound.
Shadow looked at my arm with an expression of horror. “You’d better go to the hospital.”
I looked more carefully at my wound. “I don’t think so. The cut is not deep, so I won’t need stitches. You don’t want our names to be all over the newspapers tomorrow as victims of a botched robbery, do you?”
14
Shadowy Recipes
After dropping off Shadow and heading home, I laughed to myself all the way back, pleased by my own ingenuity. The robbery had been my doing. The muscular man who’d attacked us was none other than Gao. At first, when I’d asked him to do it, he’d adamantly refused. Not that he was breaking his promise to do anything for me but because he couldn’t bear to see me threatened, even though it would be fake. However, after a little flirting, he had agreed. Of course he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, so I deliberately hit my forearm against his knife to draw blood.
In the Thirty-Six Stratagems, this is called kurouji, literally “painful flesh strategy.” You intentionally injure yourself to get the trust of your enemy. Now not only had I gained Shadow’s trust, I had also discovered her weaknesses—greed and fear. She’d left with my jade ring on her pinky. She’d peed in her dress.
However, if I were in the same situation, would I stay as calm as the Buddha? I believed so. Because I was a spy. During my vigorous training, my boss had always quoted the Chinese saying:
Even when Mount Tai is collapsing in front of you, your expression will be unchanged.
As soon as I arrived home, I took out my lipstick camera and went to my bathroom to develop the negatives, a skill I’d learned as part of my training to be a spy. As soon as they were dry, I printed them, then took the glossy images to my study.
The first one was from Shadow’s notebook, a short article on “Teasing the Bloody Shoes.”
Tie the shoes with dark strings and manipulate them from the ceiling above. Use a black wall with a wavy pattern as background so neither the black strings nor their movements will be seen from ten feet away.
I laughed out loud. Was it really that simple? How easily we humans can be fooled!
I went on to read the next one: “Jumping to Disappearance.”
A basic technique in magic is to distract. You can do this in many ways: setting off fireworks, releasing smoke, playing loud music, even casual motions like scratching your head, blinking your eyes, adjusting your glasses, dropping a pen, or just chattering nonstop. This is called shengdong jixi, making noise in the east while attacking in the west.
In this trick, a dummy, dressed to look like the magician and tied to a wire, will be thrown to the ground, then quickly pulled back up. At the same time, lightning, thunder, and smoke will blur the audience’s vision so they cannot tell the object is a dummy or that it is being pulled up. Blood and shoes are thrown down a few seconds after the dummy plunges.
Next my eyes landed on the account of her recent grandiose act: “The Disappearing Mansion.”
Make a Big Object Disappear—A house, a plane, a monument.
This is sure to stun your audience. You need a revolving tent with only one entrance. The spectators will be ushered inside the tent, facing the entrance so they can see the building outside, which is best if it is upon a hill. After the magician puts a curtain over the entrance, he’ll distract the audience by talking to them nonstop, cracking jokes, mesmerizing them with a strange story, asking questions.
When finished, the magician will lift the curtain and the audience will be shocked to see that the building is gone. This is because the tent’s entrance has, unbeknownst to them, slowly revolved to face another direction, so that the building is no longer to be seen.
The audience will be directed to a bus right outside the opening to take them back where they came from. This is to prevent anyone from noticing that the building is still there, albeit on the other side.
As for the disappearing paintings inside the mansion, they were but images from a magic lantern.
As is usually the case with these stage tricks, once explained, the magic seems as obvious as a reflection in a mirror. Then I realized that Shadow couldn’t possibly do this all by herself, yet no assistant ever appeared. Who was she or he? A lover, a brother, a twin sister, or just hired help?
Since no answer was forthcoming, I picked up another photograph and read:
Seeing Is Deceiving—It Is a Mistake to Believe What You See.
People always believe what they see with their eyes. That’s why we say “seeing is believing.” But in magic, it is the opposite: “believing is seeing.” When people see something with their own eyes—from a rabbit appearing out of thin air to a huge mansion disappearing in front of them—they have to believe it.
That’s why seeing is also deceiving. This is what magic is about—creating illusions to fool the eyes and trick the mind.
Magic is a game of manipulation and distraction. When you pay intense attention to one thing, your mind will ignore everything else. Therefore, the magician directs the audience’s attention to something irrelevant as he carries out his routine. They won’t notice how the trick is done because their eyes are fixed on the magician’s misleading maneuvers, like constant prattling, releasing pigeons, tossing a hat or waving a wand.
I sipped my tea, then was suddenly wide awake despite the late hour and the wine, as my eyes encountered a section entitled, “The Art of Stealing.”
To distract your audience, lure their attention away from your real intention. This includes:
1. Keep talking to prevent the audience from noticing your stealing hand.
2. Touch your victim in different places—a pat on the shoulder, a squeeze of the arm, a palm on the back; when he is conscious of the hand that is touching, he won’t notice your other one.
3. When you steal, let’s say a wristwatch, first press your hand on your victim’s wrist. This sensation will linger, so he will still “feel” his watch on his skin even though it’s already gone.
4. Focus your victim’s attention on another place: Tell him his hair is mussed or flick an imaginary bit of lint off his jacket.