Kungfu Masters (8)

海外逸士

Chapter Eight
Sally opened the door to the tenth bar on her visiting list and went in.  The bar was so small that there were no tables, only a semicircular counter with a row of high stools before it. Behind the counter, three feet away, was a small stage. A girl, stripped almost naked, was dancing on it. Sally found the only bartender, showing him the photo.
“Never seen him, sorry, miss. Can't help,” he said nonchalantly.
The eleventh bar was a short distance away.  Sally walked there. Once inside, her gaze swept over the faces of the patrons. Suddenly, she recognized a face. A face she had seen somewhere recently, but could not lay her fingers on it and tell exactly where. The face turned her way all at once. The guy recognized her, too.  He said something to four other guys sitting at the same table. Sally had already turned her head towards some of the bartenders.
When Sally left the bar with the same disappointed expression on her face, she was so surprised to find five guys waiting for her outside the bar door that she let the wad of gum remain on the tip of her tongue, forgetting to blow it into a bubble as she had originally intended to do. The guys all wore T-shirts of various colors with different pictures on the back and in the front, and jeans or denim shorts, striking different poses and forming a semicircle to prevent her from escaping. She suddenly remembered seeing one of the guys as the leader of the three young men in another bar a few days ago, but this time he didn't look like the leader of the group. She knew she would have a hard time tonight, but she stood there calmly, ready for the attack.
One guy, who looked to be in his late thirties, tallest among them at about six feet, stepped forward with hands held up in front of his chest in a traditional way--left hand forming a fist with right hand wrapped around it--and said, “Miss, we don't want to alert the police, do we? So will you come with us to somewhere we can practice karate together without any interruption?”
Sally knew they would not let her go unless she could defeat them. It would be better to go with them and finish the fight as fast as possible. Sally was above the tenth level, but had not yet reached master level, somewhere in between. It meant that only masters could beat her on a one-to-one basis, but now there were five. On a one-to-five basis, it depended on what level they were. If they were all on lower levels, she could easily defeat them. If they were all on higher levels, she could at least escape easily, unless one or two of them were on the same level as she, but it was not likely. Her father was one of the best masters, though unknown to the Kung Fu world. When the sisters began to learn kungfu at the age of five, their grandfather, Old Master Lin, had given each of them a pill, soft and black, as big as a marble children played with. He had made them swallow it, though not without a little difficulty.  He had said that it was made from a Lingzhi and a Ginseng, both a thousand years old, and other rare herbs, which would help them greatly in their practice of chi, hence the enhancement of the strength. Their mother, Louise, had steeped and washed their bodies every day in a basin filled with water boiled from a special kind of herb, which would produce a special effect in the body and on the skin against any hard blow, somewhat like Achilles’ mother steeping her son in the River Styx, though not with the same result.
With such confidence, Sally followed the guys to a deserted parking lot behind a high building. It was well past midnight now. There were scarcely any pedestrians in the street. Sally stood against a wall so that she could not be attacked from behind. The five guys stood in a semicircle before her with the tall guy in the middle. He was about three meters away, a suitable distance to use chi. He raised his right hand and sent out his chi from the palm. Sally followed suit. Two drafts of chi met between them with a hollow “bang”. Sally stood her ground, but the tall guy took three steps backwards.  It meant that he was only on seventh or at most eighth level. Two guys at either side of the tall one assaulted Sally with their chi at the same time. Sally used both her hands, one against each.  The guy at the left side of the tall man took one backward step, but the guy at his right side was forced to recede two steps. These two guys were still lower in the levels, because Sally divided her chi between two hands. Then the five men drew out daggers hidden behind their hips and thrust them at Sally from different angles. Sally didn't bring any weapon. She had to jump five meters high, make a forward somersault and land on her feet on the ground behind the guys. The guys quickly turned around and surrounded her. They attacked again, one at her face, one at her left chest, one at her back, one at her right thigh and one at her left hip. Sally stooped forward low, kicking up her left foot at the one to her left hip, using both her hands to throw out her chi at the one to her right thigh and the one to her left chest while ducking the two at her face and back. When the three guys receded at her counterattack, she stood on her hands, kicking up both her feet, one at the guy attacking her back and the other at the guy attacking her face. Both guys had to step back, too. Sally made a somersault and stood up. Now she took initiative to assail one guy, who had to dodge, but the other four lunged at her. She turned to deal with them while the one that dodged assumed his assault. Sally jumped up in the air, kicking at the heads of two guys behind her and issuing her chi from both her hands towards the three guys before her, adding a gumball flying out of her mouth with chi at the right eye of one of the guys, forcing them all to recoil. She made a sideways turn and another somersault in the air and landed on her feet.  She had no time to put more gum in her mouth.
After fifty rounds, Sally knew she couldn't fight long against five people without any weapons, especially when they attacked simultaneously.  They seemed to have been trained in organized group actions. They formed a strategic circle around her, each in a position to attack a certain part of her body.  Even if she used both her hands and feet in defense, she could only deal with four of them at a time and had to find a way to elude the fifth.  It would make her tired rapidly.
She had been trained in high jumping and fast running in a particular way. From five years old, the girls had some weight tied on both their legs. They had practiced jumping and running with the weight on. As they grew up, the weight increased till they stopped growing in stature. Once the weight had been removed, they had felt, literally, light as birds physically and could hence jump higher and run faster than others who didn't have such training. Now she thought of an old Chinese saying: “Of the thirty-six strategies the first and best one is to escape.” She played the somersault trick again. High in the air, she threw out her fake nails with chi, two at each, all aiming at their eyes.  The guys had to duck.  Then she landed on her feet outside their encirclement and began to gallop away as fast as her legs could carry her. They ran after her, but were not as fast. One of the guys flung his dagger at her back. Though it hit the mark, it didn't do any harm because when it reached the target, the strength was already weak and Sally's skin had been protected by a special herb bath. A few minutes later, she disappeared from the scope of their vision. They heard a car start somewhere in the distance, then silence in the dead of night, except for their own breathing and murmured curses.
“Fuck.”
“Shit.”
“Dammit.”
“Bitch.”
***
Lois knew that Richard Chang was giving karate classes. The best way to approach him, she mused, was to be enrolled in his classes. So she went to his house and expressed her hearty desire to learn kungfu from him since she knew that he was a well-known master. It is human nature that everyone loves to be flattered. The best flatterer has tact to flatter subtly, not apparently. Master Chang liked Lois at first sight.  She was placed in the high-level class, three days a week.
On her first day in the class, Richard made the introduction between her and the other three boys. They all seemed younger than she. She pretended that she knew just enough kungfu to be in this class, though as a matter of fact, she was on half-master level, which meant that a master could not defeat her within a hundred rounds. Lois was better in kungfu than Tricia, because she had practiced two more years, and Tricia was a little better than Sally for the same reason. The more and longer one practiced, the better one became.
Lois didn’t mind paying the fee for the classes.  She was on a case to find who had killed Uncle Charles; besides, she really learned something from Richard. Since she was a kungfu expert, she knew from Richard’s demonstrations that the master was very good; though not as good as her father, he was still equal to her mother. If Richard and her father would have a real fight, she estimated that they might go for a thousand rounds, but eventually her father would win; he would never fight other masters except for a cause of justice.
***
There were a few people whose kungfu was on the master level, but whose behavior didn't match the old traditional standards of a master's reputation. Lungming Hua was such a master. Once he had sold an old Chinese painting to the Metropolitan Museum in New York. It was a famous painting of the Ming Dynasty, but it turned out that the painting had been stolen from a museum in China.  He had been wanted by both governments, Chinese and American, but he had managed to vanish to no one knew where. That had happened twenty years ago.
***
One of the eight masters on Lois's list was John Zi, who was not only famous for his kungfu, but also for his charity donations. He lived on Long Island, no exact address on Lois's list.  He owned a lot of small businesses such as Chinese restaurants, gift shops, laundromats, bakeries, a local bank and a cinema. Most of his businesses were in New York City, a few in northern New Jersey, like Jersey City and Newark.  He had a large fortune, no one knew how much.  If each of his small businesses had made money in the course of time through financial ups and downs, he could have lots and lots of money, but no one knew for sure.  In fact, no one cared.
He was fifty-eight, medium height. His first wife, a Chinese woman three years younger than he, had died of heart disease ten years ago. His second wife, an Italian, eleven years younger than he, had disappeared four years ago after their marriage of one year. Now his third wife was an American with brown hair and hazel eyes, twenty-three years younger. It was funny to notice that as he grew older, his wives grew younger. That was normal, however, with rich Chinese people, and fifty-eight was not really old for a man with kungfu.
“You look in your forties only,” his new wife, Melissa, often said to him, which made him feel still younger.
***
“Are you sure that your uncle had no enemies?” Sam queried Lois one day when they were at a work lunch again at McDonald's on Rt. 27. Sam wore a blazer and trousers, his brown hair parted in the middle and combed back. With hazel eyes, chiseled features and fair complexion, he looked gorgeous.
“No. I'm absolutely sure. Besides, I asked my Dad and Mom, and they said no.”
“Then, what's the motive?” Sam looked at her attentively as if earnestly expecting a satisfactory answer, but virtually appreciating her irresistible beauty. A beauty salon is not open for natural beauties like Lois. I think she never goes to one. Only those who want pseudo beauty hasten there. Can an ugly duckling really turn into an elegant swan when strutting out of such a salon?  Doubtful.
“That's what's puzzling me, too,” said Lois, who wore a duckling-yellow blouse and slacks; her shiny, long dark hair, held by a golden barrette, hung over her bosom, a tress almost dipping into the ketchup. She flicked her ponytail behind her back in a graceful arch like a high-jump athlete over a pole.
Sam was in charge of the investigation on Charles's death.  He had no clue whatsoever on this case so far.  He had never had any dealings with the kungfu circle. Now he had to be dependent on Lois, or he could never solve the case.  It really gave him the chance to get together with Lois more often. He thanked Uncle Charles secretly, then he felt guilty and ashamed for it. Hey, why should I feel guilty?  I didn't kill him. If I pray to him in the other world to bring Lois and me together, nothing's wrong with that. All's fair in love and war, as people always say. But his conscience contradicted him. Are love and war the same thing?  No.  They are just the opposites.  So how can it be fair in love and fair in war at the same time?  When it is fair in war, it can't be fair in love.  So what should I do in love? he asked himself. Love is an affair of emotions and tenderness while war is an event of violence and cruelty. Love can never be connected with violence and cruelty. Only honesty and tenderness can win love while strategies and forces can win in war.  Be honest and tender to her. That's what I should do.
He looked up from his food at Lois and sensed her gaze fixing on his face. He could feel that Lois liked him and Tricia liked him, too. But he knew he wanted to date Lois, not Tricia, though Tricia was also a nice girl. If Lois were engaged, he would date Tricia, but now….
Time really flew fast. He should be at the office right now. A hill-high pile of work was waiting for him. He finished eating as quickly as possible and left first.  Lois didn't hurry.  She lingered in her seat, her mind busy with all the possibilities of the case. She took out the list from her purse and checked the names on it. The second name was John Zi, inhabiting on Long Island. He could wait till later. The third name was Walter Li, living in Piscataway and the address was listed very close to Charles's house. “He's worth a visit,” Lois speculated.
Back at the office, she looked into the phonebook for Walter Li's number; then dialed it.  After four rings it was picked up by the answering machine. She hung up, leaving no message, since she didn't want to give him too much time for mental preparation.  She'd call him later in the evening.
***
A few minutes before eight, Lois arrived at the street where Walter Li resided. As she slowed down, looking for the house number, she perceived a familiar figure coming out of a door four houses down. The figure got into a car in the driveway, backed out and went in the other direction. Lois pulled up in front of that house and saw the house number, which was exactly the number she was looking for, but she could not recall who the familiar figure was. However, it was not the time for recollection.  She got out and walked to the front door, which was opened at the buzz. A man of about her father's age stood in the doorway. He was lean and of middle height with weather-beaten skin like a sailor's, which indicated that he must have experienced hardship when young. He wore a white long-sleeved shirt and a gray pair of pants with black leather shoes, and his hair was close-cropped, parted on the left side just above the corner of the left eye, the section to the right of the parting line combed back.
“Miss Lin, I presume?” he addressed Lois. “Please come in.” He stepped aside to let Lois in, outstretching his right hand in a gesture of welcome.
Lois took in the setting of the living room at a glimpse. The furniture was all fashioned out of an old Chinese style. A square table made of rich rosewood stood in the middle with polished marble laid into the top and carvings on the four sides and legs. There were small drawers in each side. Four carved armchairs sat around the table, each with an oval garnished marble piece set in the back. To one side of the wall clung a carved rosewood couch and along another wall were four chairs of the same material with carvings on the backs and end tables in between. Some scrolls of Chinese paintings and calligraphy hung on the walls. Lois was asked to sit down on a chair against the wall and Mr. Li sat on another chair at the other side of the end table.
“Mr. Li, I presume?” Lois commenced the conversation. “I'm sorry to bother you.”
“It's my pleasure,” Mr. Li responded. “I like to talk to young people. My son never speaks to me, because once he does, we always disagree on almost everything. They say it's the generation gap.”
“I don't think it's always the case between different generations. At least not between my parents and me,” said Lois frankly.
“Your parents are fortunate to have you as their daughter.”
According to her father, Mr. Li owned a Chinese restaurant in Edison. His wife liked to run it. So Mr. Li went there every day for three meals, since no one cooked for him at home. As for kungfu, Mr. Li was a third-class master. Richard Chang belonged to the first class and John Zi the second class.  Lois knew Mr. Li was no match for Uncle Charles and therefore he could not be the stranger.  Lois came to visit him in the hope that he might know, or might have seen, something about the case since he lived so close, but he told her that he had already been in bed that night when the murder happened.

南粤笔客

问好---!

firefly

i have finished reading this chapter.
well, the murder case is still in the air.

周道模

I've read this chapter,too.
but it is in the author's head.