by Cole Reid
Xiaoyu’s eyes were getting heavy and star-filled. He thought of giving in. It was simple. He could simply lie down as weak as he was and he’d be put out of misery soon after. There would be no one to miss him. His uncle was dead. His mother was dead. His sister would never know. He thought of giving the kids on the playground in Kuandian what it seemed they wanted—the death of the Heigui. It was all so very simple, as simple as lying down. There was nothing in human life as simple as lying down. The great reward for the only upright creature on Earth—to fold down and lie, letting day or life all be over. It was simple until he remembered his goal. He had to become a Jade Soldier to protect the Dragon Head. It was a great honor. The first honor he was ever given. It was his focus and the only one. Xiaoyu had enough reserve energy to rush Francisco and hug him, trapping Francisco’s arms in his grip. As he hugged Francisco, he pushed him back toward center cage, holding tight breathing as hard as he could to get more air in his lungs and oxygen to his blood. Xiaoyu held on long enough for his spirit to float up high above and see the stars, as he would remember it. In reality, he was still in the cage but seeing stars. When he felt the nerve to continue, he pushed off Francisco and threw a fake kick with his left foot to clear a way for a real kick with his right, which Francisco blocked. Xiaoyu used the momentum behind the kick to spin around and send a jump kick toward Francisco’s head with his right leg. The kick was too hard and fast for Francisco to block. Instead he leaned back onto his left hand with his right hand in the air. He was able to quickly recover to his feet in time to see Xiaoyu setting up a jump spin kick. Xiaoyu jumped and spun around letting his left foot tap the air enough for Francisco to think it would extend toward his head. Francisco leaned back so the kick would bypass him but the kick never came. As Xiaoyu completed his spin in the air, he leaned forward throwing his momentum into a kick with his right leg which caught Francisco directly in the face snapping his head back. Xiaoyu didn’t land on his feet but collapsed on his side as the force of the impact with Francisco sent him sideways. He landed on his left thigh and was barely able to brace himself as his broken ribs hit the floor. Xiaoyu knew he wouldn’t be able to get up. Francisco stood as if entranced. Xiaoyu kept his eyes on Francisco. The top of Francisco’s lip started to turn unnaturally dark for no apparent reason. Xiaoyu tried to focus through starred vision and saw that blood was draining from Francisco’s nose. As Xiaoyu’s eyes stopped starring, he realized Francisco was bleeding. Francisco’s eyes rolled back into his head and his body leaned backwards—a little, then a lot. He collapsed, like giants do. Francisco lied on the cage floor with his arms outstretched in an unloving way. Xiaoyu breathed in and out and felt enough wind in his lungs to move. He crawled on hands and knees over to Francisco and cautiously approached. He saw no movement in Francisco so he set himself on his knees and balled his right hand into a fist and stared at the resting expression on Francisco’s face. As he looked, he saw Francisco’s face was distorted. His nose was extra wide and swollen. Using his left hand he rolled back Francisco’s eyelids and saw his eyes were still back in his head. Xiaoyu understood his kick had caught Francisco completely off guard, he had no time to move or block. The kick hit him with such force it drove the bridge of his nose up shifting the bone into the front of his brain. Xiaoyu unballed his fist, he wouldn’t need it. Francisco was already dead. The surety of Francisco’s death left Xiaoyu without anything else to focus on. His candidacy ended. He was a Jade Soldier. His eyelids pored down and he inhaled deeply before collapsing on top of Francisco.
• • •
Xiaoyu felt warm. Warm air blew down on his face from above. His body felt heavy. He moved his legs just for the feeling. He was lying down in a bed with a pillow. He opened his eyes expecting to see his hotel room. Instead he saw blinding white light—florescent. He moved his head from side-to-side to loosen his neck. He moved it side-to-side until it didn’t crack again. Xiaoyu saw movement in the shadows in the room. He looked down his chest to see he was wearing a thin light blue shirt. He looked directly forward to see a young man standing in front of him. The young man had a startled look on his face. Xiaoyu thought scaring the young man upon waking up was a cause for celebration. The young man reached in his pocket and pulled out a black cell phone. He pulled an antenna out of the phone and hit a single button, bringing the phone to his ear.
“It’s me, he just woke up,” said the young man into the phone. Xiaoyu stared at the young man wondering who he was talking to. The young man stopped talking and looked at Xiaoyu.
“How do you feel?” asked the young man. Xiaoyu didn’t answer and continued staring at the young man.
“You don’t remember me do you?” said the young man. Xiaoyu remained silent.
“It’s been years, I wouldn’t remember me either in your position,” said the young man, “One of us was supposed to watch you. I volunteered.”
“Where am I?” asked Xiaoyu.
“You’re at a hospital,” said the young man.
“Why?” asked Xiaoyu.
“You’ve been asleep for about five weeks,” said the young man. Xiaoyu didn’t seem surprised. From the feel of his body the time seemed longer.
“A mild coma,” said the young man.
“Why are you here?” asked Xiaoyu.
“I told you I volunteered,” said the young man, “They needed someone to watch you. We were gonna take turns but they decided it was better to have one person to be familiar with the nurses and people, for safety.”
“So you’ve been here five weeks?” asked Xiaoyu. The young man nodded.
“Who are you?” asked Xiaoyu.
“Liu Ping,” said the young man. Xiaoyu remembered the name but didn’t know from where.
“Remember when they first brought you to the storage facility,” said Liu Ping, “Remember we were all there with Mr. Cheung and he made you fight us. You only stayed one night but we all remember you.” Xiaoyu remembered. Liu Ping was the boy who asked for mercy, the same boy who accused him of cheating. Now, he watched over Xiaoyu as he slept.
“Who was that you called?” asked Xiaoyu.
“That was Mr. Cheung,” said Liu Ping, “I’m supposed to call him when you wake up. I wanted to congratulate you. Mr. Cheung has always been respected in our family but now even more.”
“Why?” asked Xiaoyu.
“Because he was right about you,” said Liu Ping, “He was the one who first suggested you be considered as a Jade Soldier. Now you are one.”
“Where is Mr. Cheung?” asked Xiaoyu.
“He’s on his way,” said Liu Ping. Twenty minutes later, Mr. Cheung arrived flanked by two other young men. He smiled when he entered the room with a black bag in hand. He walked over to Xiaoyu’s bedside and shook his hand. He pulled a bottle of Gordon’s Dry Gin out of the black bag.
“For old time’s sake,” said Mr. Cheung. Xiaoyu looked up with one memory.
“Time heals most wounds,” said Mr. Cheung, “but some remain.”
“What do you mean?” asked Xiaoyu.
“I’ll give you the good news first,” said Mr. Cheung, “You’re done. You made it. And you made us all proud, including Uncle Woo. So congratulation on being our family’s Soldier. Like I told you before, it’s a great honor. And these guys will now take orders from you.” Mr. Cheung turned around and looked at Liu Ping and the other two young men.
“Salute the new boss,” said Mr. Cheung. The two young men waved to Xiaoyu.
“You’ve all met before at the shelter, so you’ll have much to talk about,” said Mr. Cheung, “These and the others will be your arsenal, your troops. Yours to command. That’s the way it works. The Jade Soldier guards the Dragon Head and leads his arsenal. Well…” Mr. Cheung sat down before continuing. He looked out the window for a good minute.
“The bad news is you already failed,” said Mr. Cheung, “Uncle Woo died three weeks ago.” Xiaoyu sat up in his bed.
“What happened?” asked Xiaoyu.
“He was
shot…five times,” said Mr. Cheung.
“Who?” asked Xiaoyu. Mr. Cheung shook his head.
“He was at his favorite restaurant,” said Mr. Cheung, “So many knew he ate there.”
“The Mynah Prime Palace,” Xiaoyu interrupted. Mr. Cheung nodded.
“He went to the toilet alone,” said Mr. Cheung, “You know how he was about security. He took too long even for his age. I went in with two more and we found him stuffed into the last stall with three holes in his chest and two in his head.”
“No one heard the shots?” asked Xiaoyu.
“In a busy restaurant, they would have used a sound suppressor,” said Mr. Cheung, “Your first obligation is to deal with this and the ones responsible. Start looking.”
“The restaurant’s in the Golden Masters’ Territory,” said Xiaoyu.
“That doesn’t mean they were responsible,” said Mr. Cheung.
“It should mean they’ll help. Unless they have reasons,” said Xiaoyu, “Could have been a combined effort from any of the other branches.”
“That’s also a possibility,” said Mr. Cheung, “They all knew he ate there.”
“What about the Dragon Head now?” asked Xiaoyu.
“What about him?” asked Mr. Cheung.
“What’s my responsibility to him?” asked Xiaoyu.
“Not until you finish the business of the one you were selected under. He’s dead, that’s your wound. Time won’t heal it. Worry about that, then worry about the successor,” said Mr. Cheung.
“Deni’s his successor?” asked Xiaoyu.
“Of course,” said Mr. Cheung. Xiaoyu stared out the window and looked at the buildings across the street. He thought of the people living and working in the other buildings, they might have felt their lives were stressful. But they couldn’t see him. He thought of his sister and what she would think of him—her brother, a Jade Soldier. She wouldn’t even know what that meant. He breathed deeply and thought about what he learned in his first years with his sister, realizing he had spent more time with the Triads than with his family. Still he was grateful for having her, the first time in a long time. She had taught him something that he was beginning to find useful, poetry. He thought about how he listened to her read Shakespeare as a bedtime story, translating every line into Mandarin for him. Shakespeare had always been useful for poetic moments. There was no moment more poetic for him. A Jade Soldier, responsible for guarding the Dragon Head and Uncle Woo had been killed while he slept. Poetry. He thought the only way to approach his business as a Jade Soldier was poetically, like Shakespearean drama. He was stuck on Hamlet. He saw similarities between a son returning home to find his father dead and a Jade Soldier waking up to a murdered Dragon Head. He especially admired how Hamlet dealt with the whole situation, building the drama by pretending to be crazy with grief. What Shakespeare called an antic disposition.
Chapter Ten An Antic Disposition
The restaurant wasn’t over the top but close enough to be mistaken. Everything in the restaurant was hard to find, even in Hong Kong, where East met West. The first floor was India with an elephant herd. The space was open with porcelain elephant candleholders at each table. Large elephant tusks crisscrossed each other on the far wall. Authentic oil paintings of Asian elephants adorned the walls adjacent. A single rug stretched from one end of the foyer to the other. The rug told the story of peasant farmers and elephant riders. Although the rug’s story was humble, the rug itself was not—hand-woven in the deepest mahogany-hued threads. Black threads were used for the elephants, rust for the riders. Headscarves were somber gray, not white. There was no white. The rug was manufactured in Panpat—one of a kind—made for the feeling of walking on busy earth not enchanted sky. It came to Hong Kong by way of a private collector and came to the restaurant by way of his son. The rug was a reminder from father to son to work hard and build a franchise. The son practiced this lesson but the second part he learned on his own. Once the money came in, he hired others to do the hard work for him then left Hong Kong for London and sold to a man named Lim Lee Geok, Raphael to his friends. Deni Tam was one of his friends. The restaurant was called The Cavendish after its British entrepreneur, Bentley “Ben” Cavendish and his father. The Cavendish specialized in South Asian cuisine—more coconut and curry than soy or Sichuan. The Mynah Prime Palace had been Uncle Woo’s favorite restaurant. The Cavendish was Deni Tam’s.