***
It wasn’t something she wanted to do but Lisa knew that all kinds of women fell over themselves trying to curry favor with King. If she didn’t do it, someone else would be happy to, so she has spent thousands of unbearable moments with Dr. Tang.
Her reward? The periodic opportunity to spend a few minutes with King posing as his wife at a condo or entertaining him privately.
This time, she senses that there is something bigger at stake. King has never been so sharp, so edgy, so unbelievably masculine and she will do whatever she can to make sure she is the one to satisfy his cravings.
For an hour, she helps Dr. Tang position three hundred long, thin acupuncture needles into every part of the sifu’s body, from the big toe to the top of the head. The doctors are tapping the needles gently, stimulating “electricity” throughout the master’s body, to reform and align the body’s qi.
To the average Westerner, this is more akin to voodoo or snake oil quackery. However, to those who share the holistic Chinese view of the universe, this is as natural as breathing.
Qi is the third part of the triumvirate of Taoist Internal Alchemy, the other two being physical being and spiritual elements. For one to be healthy, an individual’s qi must be balanced internally within oneself and externally with the world that the person inhabits. Over the centuries, the world has moved to an imbalance emphasizing the physical. However, optimal health requires the spiritual, hence the importance placed on mindful meditation.
***
While Noah has seen successes in treatment, including of pains in his own body, he still worries about the efficacy of TCM, especially acupuncture.
“Is this going to work?” asks Noah anxiously. “I can get a snake venom specialist here in twenty minutes.”
“There is no need for that. I am a specialist in snake venomology and snakes in general,” states Lisa.
“You are?” asks the incredulous Noah.
“My father, grandfather and great-grandfather had snake stores and restaurants on Taipei’s Huaxi Street Night Market for fifty years, so toxins of all kinds―both natural and those created by man ― have a special interest for me.”
If anyone in the room knew their Taipei history, they would have known that the Huaxi Street Market in older times was more renown for prostitution, not the famous food stalls it has now. Lisa, knowing how Hong Kong-centric this group is, bets that she’s going to get away with the lie. And she does.
“And of course, one cannot treat poisonous snake bites without being concerned about how to treat those from non-venomous species as well.”
Over the years, by treating King and his employees many times for different kinds of snakebites, she experimented and developed not only new treatments but also new kinds of poisons based on the venom of the long, tubular reptiles.
“Sorry I doubted you but these needles aren’t working,” says Noah as he glances at the long cylinders pointing out of Master Wu’s body.
“That’s because this is only the first phase of the treatment. Right, Dr. Tang?”
“Yes, of course.”
Lisa goes to the cupboard and pulls out two boxes with Chinese characters on them. “We should begin cupping now. That will extract the poisons from the body.”
“That’s next on our list. Needles first, then the cups,” says Dr. Tang.
Lisa fights the urge to roll her eyes.
You lying old fart. You haven’t a clue as to what to do here. If I hadn’t said something, Wu would’ve been dead in half an hour. I know because I personally developed the designer toxin inside him.
Which is true. Dr. Tang knows nothing about treating patients with snake venom in their systems. Even if he did, none of his methods would work on the strain of toxin in Master Wu now.
Lisa and King developed more than fifty useful combinations of natural and artificial poisons based on snake behavior and venoms. Thousands of vipers have been sacrificed in these experiments. Sometimes the snakes died giving up their venom. Sometimes, they could not survive the new toxins placed in them. It was a hit and miss process with many more misses than hits.
Lisa motions for Noah to help her turn Master Wu onto his stomach. From there, she pours out three tablespoons of medicated oil onto the skin of the Sifu’s back, then gently massages so that the entire back has a thin film of oil.
She then opens the two boxes. Each contains six brand new glass cups.
With forceps, she picks up a cotton ball, dips it into alcohol and then lights it on fire with a mechanical lighter.
She places the ball inside the cup for two seconds then pulls it out and places the forceps on the table.
She tips the cup upside down and places it near the top of Master Wu’s back on the left side. She pulls lightly to confirm that there is suction. Success—the cup stays in place.
This process is repeated eleven times, except for the placement of the cups. Alternating between right and left, all the cups are placed on the back so that after fifteen minutes, there are two rows of six cups on either side of the vertebrae.
After a few minutes, Noah can see that there are drops of what appears to be blood on the surface of the back.
An hour later, the area under the cup has turned a darkish red.
The cups are removed. Cotton balls with the medicated oil clean Master Wu’s back. The area under each of the cups shows a circular discoloration as if it were bruised. Master Wu is then turned over.
“Now we use a different kind of suction,” says Lisa.
Again, a thin layer of oil is applied to Master Wu’s chest.
A new box is opened but this time the cups are different in appearance. They’re smaller and both sides are open. The opening on one side is two inches. The opening on the other side is an inch.
The side with the larger opening is placed onto Master Wu’s skin.
The other side has a large syringe like handle inserted into it. Lisa pulls the handle of the “syringe” and air is sucked out. The created vacuum causes the flesh to rise, creating a small semi-oval like mound about a centimeter tall.
The syringe handle is released. She places a cap onto the other side of the cup to keep the suction alive.
This process is repeated eight times with these smaller cups with the end result being that Master Wu has three rows of three cups on his chest.
Worry covers Noah’s face as he sees blood appear on the little mounds under the suctioned cups.
After fifteen minutes, Lisa releases the first cup and the mound of flesh falls back to its normal level. Using a small wooden strip, she scrapes the skin and collects the blood into a container.
After this, she puts the cup back and re-suctions it, again creating a little mound under the cup.
This is repeated for all the other eight cups.
“That blood, doesn’t it concern you?” asks Noah.
“It’s not blood. It’s cold,” says Lisa.
“Huh?”
“Cold is a generic name for the various toxins that one has in the body,” explains Lisa. “We are purifying Master Wu’s system.” She turns to Dr. Tang. “Let’s add needles.”
Dr. Tang and she place fifty needles into Master Wu’s forehead, neck, arms and legs.
The two doctors tap their fingers on the needles, switching needles every thirty seconds or so.
For the next hour and a half, all are riveted to their positions. Noah offers a continuous silent prayer as the doctors keep tapping. The only physical change though is the sweat appearing on the faces of the doctors.
“Something’s not right. It shouldn’t take this long,” says Noah.
Lisa admits, “Yes, we should have seen something by now. Maybe we are treating the wrong thing.”
“How can it be? The marks from the snake’s fangs are right here.” Dr. Tang points to the swelling and pinprick bite marks on Master Wu’s leg.
Lisa nods her head but counters, “They are definitely from a snake but maybe it is not the snake b
ite that is ailing him. Master Wu, there are all kinds of marks on your body, some old, some not so old. Maybe what you are suffering from is the poison from a spider bite or a rodent or a stray dog. I also saw men carrying their birds around the neighborhood. Birds are notorious for spreading some kind of disease or another. Right now, the treatment is based on your saying that a snake bit you. But what if it’s not a snake bite or venom that’s causing the problem?”
Fear permeates Master Wu’s face. He whispers, “Maybe it’s the gods.”
“Nonsense, Wu,” chastises his old friend. “Are you starting to get superstitious in your old age?”
“No I’m just thinking...”
“For you, that’s a more dangerous thing to do than martial arts.”
Lisa smiles inwardly, pleased with herself. This particular poison took her three years to develop. Starting with lethal venom, it was diluted and then altered. The hard part though was modifying it so that there was a trace of paranoia. If it was too much, then some other drugs could be used to counter the symptoms. But if it stayed below the surface, then confusion would reign. It also had to have moments of clear thinking, making everyone believe that things were normal. Scare, not kill. The longer the fear lasts when you think things should be normal, the greater the fear―and the more likely you’ll be to reveal information you would not normally tell.
Lisa asks quietly, “Master Wu, I think there’s something you want to tell us. Is there a secret buried within you that wants to come out?” Like where the hell is three billion dollars?
“How do you know? I’m already an old man. If I’m going to die, I will not complain.” Master Wu’s head rotates to Noah. “But I will only tell my secret to the Sigong of Heaven.”
Damn. Damn. “Of course, Master Wu,” says Lisa.
“And you are far from dying, Sifu,” reassures Noah.
Master Wu shakes his head and speaks softly. “Tell Noah, Tang. It’s time he knows. ”
All eyes focus on Dr. Tang. The old doctor folds his hands and then takes a deep breath. “My good friend has a heart problem. For years, I have been able to keep it under control and he is far from going over the mountain but... recent events have put on an extra strain on his system.”
Speaking directly of death is something Chinese rarely do―they don’t want to give the gods any ideas. Instead, they speak of “going over the mountain.”
The recent events Dr. Tang talks of include a warrior martial arts battle with Chin, twenty years his junior. An even bigger stress for Master Wu was overcoming his acrophobia for a brief period to scale a high rise of over five hundred feet to save Noah and Olivia.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Noah asks.
“Because there was nothing you could do. Besides, it’s a natural progression.” Master Wu takes Noah’s hand. “I have sinned against Heaven and want to make amends before I die. I must go. You of all people should understand this.”
It is such a bizarre conversation. Master Wu’s and Noah’s positions on Heaven, forgiveness and redemption are so different and yet so similar. Master Wu’s come from thousands of years of Chinese culture while Noah’s come from thousands of years of a nomadic desert people and a carpenter.
“How do we get there?”
“We have to get to the Shaolin Paradise in Shanghai.”
Noah snorts. “You hate flying. You wouldn’t visit me in LA.”
“I have no interest in Disneyland or Hollywood. Yes, I hate flying but may I remind you, Noah, that for thousands of years before airplanes, people traveled by sea. That’s how both the Vikings and Chinese discovered America.”
By now, Noah knows there is no point in arguing with Master Wu about anything, let alone history.
“Well, I’ll see about booking us a cruise to Shanghai. I’ll get us a balcony suite.”
“Can we get something a little more simple, Noah?”
“You mean like the junk that took you here forty years ago?” Noah is not referring to junk as in garbage but rather the masted sailing ships that the Chinese have used for almost thirteen hundred years.
Noah starts searching for boats on his iPhone.
“That was a very serviceable vessel. The family that carried me fed me with freshly caught fish and the chickens and vegetables they grew onboard.
Noah smiles and shows his iPhone to the group. “What do you think of this?”
Even on the small cell phone screen, one can see that Noah is checking out some pretty high-end private boat charters.
“I am going too,” states Dr. Tang. “Master Wu needs me.”
“You’re just wanting a free ride on a big boat,” snaps Master Wu at his friend.
“And I will accompany Dr. Tang,” says Lisa.
“Okay, okay, okay. We’ll all go. Now excuse me because I am going to shower and shave in my own home, something that I haven’t done in three weeks and something I guess I won’t do again until whenever.”
Chapter Twelve
Outside of Dr. Tang’s office, Lisa makes a discreet phone call as she walks down the busy Hong Kong street.
“Found out Master Wu has a heart condition of some kind. Our slithery accomplice has him convinced he’s going to die so he wants to go to a last visit to his old home. We are leaving in three hours to go to Shanghai.”
“Which flight are you taking?”
“Old man has fear of heights. I think he’s going to hire a private luxury yacht.”
Paid for with my money. “Which one?”
“I don’t know but the ones Noah was showing us on his phone certainly didn’t look cheap.”
“Did they figure anything out?”
“Didn’t suspect a thing. Old man Wu thinks his condition has something to with the spirits. Seems he’s got some kind of preoccupation with death. He wants to go make amends.”
So my snakes did not die in vain. At least that idiot was able to do something right before he died. “Typical old Chinese thinking. Got to go make one final pilgrimage to the motherland before you croak. How’d the formula work?”
“Like a charm. Saddest part about it is that we can’t tell anybody what we’ve done. I mean behavior modification combined with modest paralysis and add a teaspoon of paranoia mixed with moments of lucidity―we could control a nation with that.”
“Maybe we will someday. But I’ll start by getting three billion back or whatever’s left of it.”
“Don’t you have to share it with the rest of the family?”
“We are related by blood but not a family. They could have helped out but they bailed so I feel no obligation to give them a damn cent.”
“Shall I come over for some final research and to go over the details of what happens next?”
Lisa can hear King sigh over the phone. “It’s not a question of ‘Do I want’ but of ‘Are we able?’ and unfortunately the answer is no. Lisa, there is no plan except for you. You are the key to the operation. You have to obfuscate and infiltrate and then formulate.”
“Sounds like you need me,” says Lisa in that teasing way women use when they think they have power over a man. “When can we see each other again?”
All warfare is based on deception. “Not soon enough.”
“Okay,” says Lisa in a small voice. “King?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
There is no response but a click. Lisa sighs a moment as she glimpses at her cell phone. She knows that was exactly the wrong thing to say to the son of Chin but she can’t help herself. She wishes he did not have that hold on her but it’s been that way ever since they met when she was a student at Tsingtao Traditional Chinese Medicine College in Shandong.
King was in the emergency room because a local viper had bitten him. Although the mark on his hand was turning purple and his face had a greenish tinge, this new intern could not help but be attracted to the strong, handsome young man with Hollywood leading man looks and a body that had the hardness of steel. What was most fascinating t
hough was that he was alive. It being autumn, the venom of the snake was at its strongest and many would have died. In fact, King should have died. She was going to begin the cupping treatment to remove the toxins when King awoke. He refused treatment, saying that he had purposely allowed himself to be bitten so that he could build up immunity. This began a heated debate about the merits of such inoculation and ended with her discovering firsthand the virility of a man who at that point in his life had drunk the strengthening aphrodisiac elixir from five thousand serpents.
Ever since then, she had only been one of hundreds of women who King bedded. But she, like so many other foolish women through the ages, believed she was special. After all, he kept coming back to her, didn’t he?
And it was for more than just sex. She knew she had to make herself useful in other ways. Knowing King’s fascination for the long, slithering reptiles, she became one of the world’s experts in treating snakebites, both poisonous and non-poisonous. He relied on her, needed her to treat him whenever one of the creatures’ fangs found their way into any part of his body.
More than that, she studies snake habits almost as rigorously as King does and is his chief researcher on combining and creating different venoms that can be artificially implanted into a snake’s venom glands.
It’s only a matter of time.
For someone so intelligent, she is too human and has fallen for one of the oldest myths in the book. He needs me.
***
In another part of town, Noah walks out of his shower to see one of the Foundation’s junior counselors, Sam Xi, sitting on his bed. Sam’s a fourteen-year-old former teen gang member that Chad had befriended. Sam’s mom was a drug addict and his dad was in jail, so Chad was the big brother Sam never had. After Chad’s death, Sam would have returned to his old ways had Noah not taken him in.
Noah made a deal with Sam’s mom, telling him he would take care of him until she turned herself around. Sam could live with him. Noah would ensure that he went to school and would take care of all his expenses. It was an easy sell, especially after Noah promised her a thousand dollars a month―cash. Because Sam was an example of the kind of troubled street kid that Noah was trying to help out, Sam’s experience made him a perfect first hire and Junior Board Member of the Chad Huang Foundation.
The Noah Reid Series: Books 1-3: The Noah Reid Action Thriller Series Boxset Page 30