by Pauline Loh
They were slapped with a mortifying forfeit—to let the other members draw on their faces with lipstick and tie their hair into ponytails, then have their photo posted to the Lion Legends’ Instagram account. Ricky took the forfeit good-naturedly. How does he still look so handsome with all that face paint and those silly ponytails? Ying Ying wondered irritably.
Ying Ying took out her phone to take a photo of them, and Ricky suddenly pulled Apple towards him in a bear hug. When the picture was uploaded to Instagram, the two of them looked as if they were best friends.
Later, Ying Ying took Apple aside and hissed, “Do you think Shifu is blind? If you want to get through this advance alive, you have to try to get along with the new guy!”
Apple nodded grumpily.
When the troupe reached the simple but spacious training hall in Layang Layang, they gathered in the auditorium. “Tell me,” Lung San began, “what do the Lion Legends protect?”
The crowd of 20 disciples seated cross-legged on the floor recited in unison, “We are zhong—loyal to our families, our clan and our country. We are xiao—obedient to our parents and teachers. We are qin—our rewards come from diligent labour. We are ren—we work tirelessly to help each other and benefit society. We are LEGENDS!”
“So, dear children, live your lives well,” Lung San intoned, like the full stop to a solemn pledge.
Ying Ying could see Ricky taking everything in with his bright, curious eyes.
Lung San continued, “As lion dance disciples and martial arts practitioners, our greatest responsibility to society is self-discipline. This flows from our performances to our non-performance activities, and vice versa. Lead yourself; serve others. Let me see you do this during the advance.”
After the lecture, the troupe geared up for team-building games, followed by a 10 km cross-country run. The next day, they woke up at dawn for a “mini Olympics”. Lung San pulled Ying Ying aside and murmured, “Watch out for conflict.” If training proceeded as planned, conflict would be unavoidable. It came from the tension of having to cooperate with each other and compete with others, he said.
That night, they collapsed into bed, exhausted but in high spirits. Early the third morning, Lung San woke them up by crashing a set of cymbals. Ricky tumbled out of his top bunk from the shock, and Apple laughed. Ricky grinned good-naturedly.
The boys scrambled out of the dorm, expecting another day of fun and competition. Instead, Lung San led his troupe out to the disused swimming pool in the training grounds. It was full of dead leaves and gunk. “Since the Association was so kind as to lend us this hall, what should we do to reciprocate?”
The boys groaned. But when Ying Ying picked up a broom, they rushed to follow. It was backbreaking work scrubbing the dirty tiles. The sun blazed down. After they had cleaned the pool and filled it with clean water and fresh chlorine, they looked at it longingly. But Lung San was not letting them in so easily. He lined them up at the edge of the pool with their backs to the water.
“During the course of training together as brothers, you will have stepped on each other’s toes. But grudges cannot exist if we wish to mind meld. Pick a brother, confess your grievance against him and push him into the pool. Do this as a sign that you forgive him, and start anew with each other.”
The boys glanced at each other awkwardly. Ying Ying folded her arms and glared, daring anybody to push her into the pool. Surprisingly, it was Ricky who made the first move. He approached Apple. Zeus looked wary—he liked to have monopoly over bullying his brother.
In a clear and kind voice, Ricky started listing all the ways that Apple had picked on him and sabotaged him throughout the advance. Apple looked more and more ashamed of himself as his petty acts were made public. Finally, Ricky concluded, “Shidi,”—spiritual younger brother—“I don’t know what has caused you to be unhappy with me, but I want to understand and forgive you. And I swear that if you find yourself in trouble or are bullied, I will protect you.”
He enfolded a startled Apple in a hug and pulled him into the pool. The boys roared with laughter. Ricky’s graciousness had broken the ice. One by one, each boy went up to another and confessed his grievances. After the last boy had jumped in, they all climbed out of the pool and crept towards Lung San.
Lung San laughed. “If you want to dunk me, you will have to catch me first.”
Off he sprinted. The boys gave startled yelps and shot after him. Ying Ying got into the pool and calmly treaded water. Lung San was fit and fast, but the 55-year-old man was no match for a horde of youths. The boys caught up to their teacher and lifted him spread-eagled between them. They carried him towards the pool, swung him like a pendulum, then launched him. He sailed into the air and landed in the water with a huge splash. Whooping, the boys leapt in after him.
It was late afternoon by the time the troupe had cleaned up and packed their belongings. They were leaving for home that night, but not before they had celebrated with a bonfire and outdoor karaoke.
The setting sun illuminated the campgrounds and the boys eagerly started the bonfire. Ricky hovered around Ying Ying and she glared at him suspiciously.
Suddenly and dramatically, Ricky went down on one knee in front of her. Too late, she remembered from his resume that he had also received training in singing. To her horror, he began serenading her. The other boys broke out in wolf whistles and good-natured jeers.
Lung San looked alarmed that his daughter was receiving such undesirable attention from one of his boys.
CHAPTER 9
BONFIRE NIGHT
“Yo, I’m Rick, I’m 18, born in Hong Kong, raised in LA. Have my roots in b-boy,” Ricky introduced himself when it was his turn.
Bonfire Night had begun. The troupe sat around the little fire with marshmallows on skewers, and there was a stereo system for karaoke. A list of questions was being passed around and the Legends answered them aloud so that their friends could get to know them better.
Ricky read out from the list, “How do I feel about lion dance? I’m more into breaking—you guys call it breakdancing here—but my old man didn’t like it and ‘volunteered’ me to the LA Lion Dance Troupe. He used to be a lion dance trainee, ya know? But who knew I would be such a natural. I got too good for the US side, so I auditioned for Lung Shifu.
“But, right now, big head doll is more my style. I’m happy when I get people to laugh and feel good. But I can get real serious too. Like how I want my marshmallow done—I never joke about stuff like that.” He solemnly inspected the sugary snack he had been roasting over the bonfire.
Zeus interrupted, “I’ve heard that your old man is head of a fishy business. Did he buy you this golden ticket to Leopop country?”
Ricky continued smiling, but there was an edge to his voice now. “I auditioned, fair and square. Would you like to challenge me?”
“Ooh! Dance off!” Apple crowed, his eyes growing big in the firelight. He had become quite pally with Ricky since the pool incident.
“Dance off! Dance off!” the other boys began to chant.
Zeus got up lazily and cracked his knuckles. Ricky smirked and patted the steel box that was never far from his side.
“What’s in here?” Apple snatched the case from Ricky and opened it.
“Hey, careful with that. You’re messing with my livelihood, man,” Ricky drawled, but did not stop Apple.
The boys clustered around to peer into the box. Despite herself, Ying Ying was also curious. Nestled in the middle of custom-hollowed foam was the big head of a doll. Apple took it out and whistled. On the outside, it looked like a high-end big head with a smooth finish and well-painted features. Its eyes were wide and innocent, and its lips were drawn in a cheery grin.
But it was the inside of the big head that caught everyone’s attention. It was padded like a motorcycle helmet and even sported a chin strap. Zeus, the eldest of the group, was usually icy cool, but even he could not hold back his admiration.
“I didn’t know they made big h
eads like this!” he exclaimed.
“I had it custom built. Used up all my savings!” Ricky looked pleased with their response.
“What’s with the strap? Afraid your baby bonnet will fall off?” Prome teased.
Ricky slid on his unique big head, clicked the strap in place and said, “Can your dolls do this?”
Then he exploded into a hands-free cartwheel, downrocked on his heels and shifted his weight onto his hands with his feet scissoring the air. The boys started beating out a snazzy tempo on their water bottles, backpacks and whatever was handy. Then, Zeus began to challenge Ricky with a smooth lock-and-pop hip-hop dance. Ricky responded by leaping into a split, performing power windmills and kicking sand naughtily into the bonfire. He ended his performance with a handstand that collapsed into a chair freeze.
The big head stayed in place throughout his dynamic performance, thanks to its unique construction. The boys, and even Ying Ying, erupted into cheers. Ricky’s moves were very different from the traditional big head doll’s, much more modern. As Lung San had pointed out, this character was usually but an appendix to the main show, and sometimes extended its function by ushering the audience so that they did not get too close to the lions. But it was obvious that Ricky had a much more ambitious concept of the doll.
Ying Ying glanced at her dad. Lung San’s face was inscrutable in the firelight, but she could tell he was not displeased. He was no doubt mentally choreographing Ricky into his acts. If Ricky was adamant about continuing as a doll, she did not doubt Dad’s genius in putting this ace to good use.
CHAPTER 10
THE LOST LIONESS
It was afternoon of the next day when Ying Ying returned to her home in Singapore and shrugged off her sweaty backpack. Immediately, a melodious voice called out from the bedroom.
“Ying Ying, is that you?” Her name meant “silver girl”. Lung San liked to say that his wife was his golden fairy and his daughter was his silver girl.
Ying Ying’s tired face brightened when she heard her mother’s voice. She went into the bedroom. Ying Ying looked remarkably like her mother, although she always felt inferior. Wang Nara was a natural beauty with a porcelain complexion, perfectly symmetrical almond-shaped eyes and a rosebud mouth. She also had a slim and elegant figure, which Ying Ying regrettably felt that she had not inherited, as hers resembled her father’s more athletic build.
Ying Ying lived with her mother in a modest rented apartment. Lung San did not live with them. The couple had been separated for eight years. Ying Ying would always remember the reason her teary-eyed mother had given for leaving her father: “Lion dance is your dad’s real wife. It is time I stepped out of her shadow.”
Nara had once been an award-winning actress. The room was papered with posters and newspaper clippings featuring her as an actress and TV presenter. But the media is harsh towards ageing women. Nara knew this and did not begrudge her time in the spotlight. In the past, she had tried to find fulfilment in her dashing husband and beautiful baby. But the bills often went unpaid and the electricity and water were eventually cut off. Meanwhile, her husband camped out in Lion Legends Hall and pumped all his earnings into props and costumes.
To support the family, she had taken a job as the news anchor on Channel One’s graveyard shift. Ratings were low for this timeslot, but younger and prettier presenters would not compete with Nara for this dead-end role, and it meant a stable income. She was also able to spend her time in the day with the love of her life—her daughter. Nara had never divorced Lung San. She had told Ying Ying that it would be bad for their careers, but Ying Ying knew that it was because Nara still loved him.
Nara had just turned 50. She knew that at her age, even the graveyard shift was not assured for her and it was making her increasingly nervous. Ying Ying saw a full-length ballgown that Nara had just hung up to bring to the dry cleaner. It meant that she had met up with Uncle Jim.
Uncle Jim was 60 years old and had been widowed for a few years. He was not as suave or good-looking as Lung San was, but Uncle Jim was mature, kind and, most important for Nara, earned a profitable income from several businesses that he owned.
He had started wooing Nara a few months ago, after he and his business were featured on her programme. He showered her and Ying Ying with attention and gifts. The two women had tried not to be dazzled by his generosity, but Ying Ying could see that Nara was having second thoughts about resisting the attention she had never received from Lung San.
“Where did you go, Mum?” Ying Ying asked, fingering the gown.
“Imperial Country Club. It’s their 80th anniversary. Uncle Jim bought us tickets at the VIP table!” Nara smiled pleasantly at her daughter. “I’m glad you’re back. Tomorrow, please wear that red dress I bought for you. Uncle Jim has booked two rooms at Ocean Suites—you know, the hotel with rooms that cost a thousand dollars a night…”
Ying Ying didn’t like to hear about Uncle Jim, even though he was successful, kind and, it seemed, everything good. Maybe I just like bad boys, she sighed to herself, thinking of her dad.
“Sorry, Mum, but the christening ceremony for the Green Lion is tomorrow.”
The corner of Nara’s mouth twisted, and Ying Ying realised with guilt that she was hurting her mother just as her dad had—by putting the Legends before her mum.
She thought quickly and said brightly, “But the event is in the morning. If Uncle Jim doesn’t mind a late start, you could pick me up at one o’clock and we would be in time for the hotel check-in at three.”
But Mum was still unhappy. “Don’t you think you’re giving too much time to the troupe? Shouldn’t you be focusing on your ‘A’ Levels? You promised me that you would go to university.”
“Yes, Mum, and I’m doing an internship—sort of—at the troupe. I’m getting paid by Dad, and I’m saving up for my tuition fees. I don’t want to be a burden to you, and the job will look good on my university application.”
Nara cheered up slightly. “You don’t have to worry about money. Uncle Jim has offered to pay for your university fees, and you can work at one of his companies after you graduate. I didn’t ask him—he was the one who enquired about your plans, so I had to tell him. In fact, he thought tomorrow would be a good time to discuss your education.”
CHAPTER 11
CHRISTENING THE LION
The next morning, Ying Ying got up early to check on the Green Lion before the christening ceremony. Most people knew about Northern and Southern Lions, although they might not have been so aware of the subtle differences between them.
The Northern Lion bore loud colours, with a red or yellow body and a golden head. However, the Southern Lion was more popular. It was a symbol of good luck and fortune, and was often called upon to usher in the new year. The two lions had large ornate heads made of papier-mâché stretched over thin bamboo strips. Over the years, enthusiastic costumiers had added nose stalks, horns, mirrors, eye and ear flaps until the lions looked less like noble animals and more like Halloween nightmares. The head alone could weigh up to 20 kilograms, which was why lion dancers had to train with weights. The lion body was a single fabric sheet attached to the head at the back of the neck. Embroidery, sequins, rabbit hair, sheep fur and even gold beaten into thin leaves—anything that could be sewn or pasted on—had made their appearance on lion skins. Leggings and tasselled shoes completed the lion’s look. The colour of the leggings had to match the costume, and they were usually decorated with rows of bright fur.
Then there was the Green Lion, which was not as popular. Many troupes did not feel the need to have it in their collection. The Green Lion originated during the Qing dynasty. In Chinese, Green Lion (qing shi) is a homonym of the Qing Army, which the Han Chinese had always detested as foreigners and bullies.
The history of the Green Lion was greatly fascinating to Lung San, who went to great lengths to acquire this particular specimen. But, in its appearance, the Green Lion was very understated compared to its Southern and Northern
counterparts. Its colours were subdued, it was free of all the pom-poms and frills its two brothers had, and it possessed a curiously flat and unattractive face.
After buying two Southern Lions and a Northern Lion, Lung San finally felt he could justify the luxury of acquiring a Green Lion. He had flown to China, where he had worked with a designer in deep secrecy. Cheap mass-produced lion costumes are available, but most troupes prefer to custom-design lions as the “signatures” of their hall. Ying Ying did not know the details, but she knew Dad had spent a fortune on the Green Lion and he was very satisfied with how it had turned out.
Ying Ying checked the Green Lion. It looked lifeless lying amidst its brown paper wrappings. This was because the eye-dotting ceremony had not yet been carried out. Dian jing, or dotting the eyes, is a ceremony to animate the lion before it can perform. Lion Legends had invited the media and the Minister of the Arts to grace the occasion. Leopop News had already done a publicity episode on this ceremony.
Contrary to common belief, it was not just the lion’s eyes that were to be painted on. Much like how the human body has acupressure points, lions have vital spots on their bodies too. Dotting the eyes represented clear vision for the troupe; decorating the nose ensured that energy would flow smoothly; embellishing the mouth caused the lion to roar mightily and painting the ears helped the lion to hear sounds from 10,000 li away. The small horn between the eyes and the tail of the lion would also be dotted with paint to complete the energy flow from head to tail.
After Ying Ying had reassured herself that the lion was ready for the ceremony, she scrutinised the marquee where the event management team had set up the sound system and the stage props. Chairs for a hundred guests had also been set up.