Shanghai Sun – The Curse of the General; Chapter 40 [(Sunday Church (II)]

An American Executive travels to China to solve the mystery of funds drainage from the company he works for.

Once in Shanghai, he finds himself tangled into a world of mysticism, into a world of traditions going back hundreds of years, into a world of philosophical meanings meant to close cosmological paths and previously set destinies.

Action, romance, drama, humor, History, Geography and Philosophy – they all come together in an attempt to blend the dynamic western way of life onto the rich Chinese culture and uncanny traditions.

 

Chapter 40

Sunday Church (II)

The tears eventually froze (as the air was crisp), making her face feel like it was pierced by thousands of little needles. The pace at which she was running was fast! She wanted somehow to put some distance between her and the place where strange things happened. However, once she reached the top of the hill, she stopped and for few minutes she kept her eyes on the beautiful white church with a foundation made out of river stones and brick walls. The cross on the top of the main nave, was now shining into the sun in all its splendor and its white color was displaying an array of spears which were pointing back to the sun, probably in an attempt of reciprocity, of thankfulness for the life he was generating, for the joy he was sending down to the people. Instinctively she waived…it was a good bye sign? If yes, to whom? Her father’s image came back and she realized that he was still there for her, trying to guide her steps to make the right decisions, trying to comfort her when she needed his help.

Linda turned around and started running again. What happened at the Church was still pounding her mind. “Where did Peter disappear?” When she entered the house, she took her sneakers off and dropped on the couch. She was now holding her head between her palms and was trying to go again through every single detail of her morning run. The image of Peter and her father were haunting her already…”Dad showed up as Peter McCarthy!” This very thought made her shiver and soon she was sitting on the couch into a fetus position, with her forehead resting on her knees while the palms were joined together holding the ankles. Into this strange position she actually fell asleep. It was a power nap which made her walk again through the morning church events. Her father again showed up into her dream and advised her: “You have to pray Linda…you have to pray. God will help you get over all the hurdles the life is throwing at you. You cannot lose hope and faith. You must pray, Linda!”

She woke up and made a quick decision: “I am heading to the church”

This time it took her just few minutes to shower. Once she managed to dry her hair, she tightened it into a large knot. Quickly opened up the dresser and picked up from her wardrobe a black suit and a white shirt; then grabbed a nice large black hat which was still leaving a portion of the knot exposed and put a pair of elegant grey leather shoes on. A dark grey woolen overcoat and a pair of black thin leather gloves were finishing a sober, yet exclusively elegant attire. She stepped out of the house and shortly her car was heading to the direction where she jogged earlier.

The church was packed. When she opened the door, the warmth from inside, the gathering, the happy and relaxed faces of the people waiting for the Mass to start, the smell of burnt candles and the beautifully painted windows embraced her in a way which was saying: “welcome back”. She stopped for few seconds, deeply inhaled and closed her eyes. Memories which she believed were well shelved started pouring out. Same like the early morning, the times when she and her father were working together preparing the church for the Mass were surfacing. People whispering and chit-chatting prior to the Mass was so familiar to her! A smile showed up on her beautiful face making her open the eyes and take a close look at the gathering. While she was screening the crowd, her sight dropped on a person she thought she would recognize. A yell (which she quickly muffled with her hand) came out of her chest. She could bet that she saw the face of her father in front of the Altar. He was smiling at her with that kind, understanding, angelic smile which only a good man, a man touched by the Holy Spirit could produce. There was so much kindness into that smile but in the same time one could sense a little drop of sadness and serenity. She shook her head…it was the priest she was looking at, the man who was running the Sunday service. He was a man in his fifties, with a grizzled hair, a man with a large and kind smile on his face, a man who looked like he loved what he was doing as his smile was complimenting every gesture he was making, every gesture being calculated and full of compassion and understanding. Linda found a seat in the last row, slightly tilted her head towards the family seating beside her and from that moment she was all eyes and ears. “How come I never knew about this little church? It is so close to the house!”

She was listening to the service with the same curiosity and hunger as she did in the past. She was doing it to understand the words of wisdom coming out of the priest’s mouth as she did many years ago when her father was holding the Sunday Mass. To her delight and in the same time to her wonder, the eagerness to absorb the teachings of the Holy Bible has not changed over the years. Linda smiled again and slowly but surely she started remembering all those prayers spoken with a loud voice by the congregation, as she remembered the faces of the people lightened for the moment by the Holy Spirit while praising Good Lord for His Greatness or asking for His forgiveness. The time passed by so fast and she was so absorbed by the service that she didn’t realize the service was over. She stood up and headed for the door, while leaving a donation for the church. Once out of the church, the crisp early afternoon air encompassed her body in spite of the fact that the sun was generously trying to hug and keep her warm. She immediately put on her nice dark grey woolen coat and started walking towards her car.

Suddenly, the tall stature of a man (who was speaking to few other people), caught her attention. She could only see him from behind, but something was telling her that she knew him from somewhere. Linda realized right away that this individual had a taste for quality cloths as his overcoat (made out of the finest wool) and the vintage fedora on his head were bringing a distinguished look which eventually was further refined by the superb black leather shoes and exquisite brand name suit. The white hair showing up between the fedora and the woolen scarf was greatly contrasting with the black overcoat, thus giving the individual an unmatchable gentleman’s allure.

Linda was ready to walk by and head to her car, when all of a sudden the man turned around and looked straight into her eyes. In spite of the cold temperature, she felt how little drops of sweat were making their way on the forehead and slowly coming down on the chicks only to wrap around the chin and fall on the ground. She felt her cheeks on fire and didn’t know exactly why…could’ve been due to the sweat which was freezing on its way to the ground, or could’ve just been a normal reaction to the sight of the man. He apologized to his audience by lifting his black fedora and then headed straight towards Linda. A large smile was imprinted on his face when he finally stopped four feet away from her. Again, he lifted his hat and with the voice of a tenor greeted the beautiful woman standing in front of him:

-Good afternoon, Linda! I have not seen you in a while. How are you?

She felt like she was about to swallow her Adam’s apple. After the discussion she had with her husband, the site of this man was making her feel angry, outraged, appalled and frighten. However, she managed to stay calm and with an immense dose of will power put a smile on her face and returned the greetings as naturally as she could:

-Good afternoon Mr. Glenworth! I am doing wonderful. How about yourself?

-Linda, please…you know very well that between friends there is no “Mister”. Please call me J.J.

-Al right, then. How are you J.J.? Yes, it is true. Last time we saw each other was at a Christmas Party if I am not mistaken. And that was probably three or four years ago…

-You are absolutely right, Linda! It was four years ago. After my wife passed away, I quit showing up at the parties. It is still an open wound.

-I am sorry to hear that, J.J.; I liked Jen so much! She was a true lady…I miss her. I only got good advises from her.

-I thank you for your words, Linda…yes, she truly was a special lady.

At this point, the conversation halted for few seconds, but these seconds felt like eternity for Linda. They were both looking into each other’s eyes, trying somehow to guess their interlocutor’s next move. Neither J.J. nor Linda was taking charge of the conversation…she had all her attention summoned into a tensed (yet well disguised) state of mind, while the physical strength was now residing into a tall, and balanced posture, demanding from her interlocutor a great deal of respect. It was J.J. who finally broke the silence and saved an already embarrassing situation:

-Is it too much if I asked you to join me for a cup a coffee? There is a place just four miles North from here where they serve a really nice Turkish coffee.

Linda startled. A week ago she discovered in the kitchen that copper pot bought by John during their trip to Turkey, pot which brought back memories from their honey-moon which they spent in the Holy Land and Turkey. She clearly remembered now the inscription scratched on the outer surface of the pot by the pot Master: “For those who love each other now and forever”. She became emotional again, but this time she forced herself not to show any kind of softness, any kind of weak spot where J.J. could’ve eventually hit. Initially, she wanted to refuse straight forward, but a second thought made room into her mind: “What if I accept? Maybe I can find out something, maybe J.J. spills the beans somehow and I get to know something that could eventually help John” She made a decision on the spot:

-I would love that, J.J.; it is not too late for a cup of coffee.

-Fantastic, Linda! You will love this little place. It is run by a Turkish family; this is the best coffee you can have in town!

-OK. You lead. I will follow you.

-Great! It is just four miles from here. We will be there in five minutes. J.J. respectfully tilted his head again, removed the hat with a gentle and well-studied gesture and then headed for his car. Linda couldn’t help but remember the Leo story and the fact that maybe one day, Leo will take this gorgeous classic collectible for a spin. She felt like laughing once again when she replayed the whole Theater episode: the fact that John had his beloved muscle car taken for a spin and who knows…maybe J.J. will pay one day tribute to that street smart guy, called Leo. She giggled and headed straight for the car. She couldn’t help but notice that J.J.’s crowd paid a certain level of respect when she passed by. She didn’t know how to react but the instinct prevailed and stopped for a couple of seconds, graciously tilting her head. Once in the car, she started asking herself questions which she was more than eager to find answers to: “Is J.J. having followers? Did he start his own Church, religion, and cult? This church is no different than my dad’s. Then why did people look kind of obedient towards him? Maybe I am wrong and I am over-reacting…still, he is clearly a leader of this community” She was now driving on the freeway while blindly following J.J.’s car and as per their discussion, it only took few minutes to make into a small plaza by the freeway. J.J. pulled his car in front of a store that had a great picture painted on a banner above the door: a person bringing on a plate few cups of coffee; the steam coming out of the cups was so well depicted, that a customer would immediately ask for one of those inviting, hot drinks. The background was kind of dark, but this is probably what the owner envisioned in his attempt to market his business: “we have the real coffee here” On top of this, the man carrying the cups was wearing the traditional Turkish fez garnished with the well-known tassels.

Shanghai Sun – The Curse of the General; Chapter 38 (A peculiar phone conversation)

An American Executive travels to China to solve the mystery of funds drainage from the company he works for.

Once in Shanghai, he finds himself tangled into a world of mysticism, into a world of traditions going back hundreds of years, into a world of philosophical meanings meant to close cosmological paths and previously set destinies.

Action, romance, drama, humor, History, Geography and Philosophy – they all come together in an attempt to blend the dynamic western way of life onto the rich Chinese culture and uncanny traditions.

 

Chapter 38

A peculiar phone conversation

At the time when the phone rang, Linda was considering her dinner options. The freezer was stuffed with semi prepared food and her dilemma increased fourfold when facing the options: pizza, lasagna, spaghetti or fries and chicken nuggets.

She closed the freezer’s door in a hurry and picked up the phone.

-Hey, how are you? I was worried! You didn’t call the whole week! Is everything alright? At this moment she put the phone on the speaker so she can have the freedom to move around and use her hands.

-I’m alright honey, I am alright. I didn’t call you because initially I was jet legged and my biological clock was obviously upside down. And for the past three days, I have been going through lots of strange encounters.

-I have the whole night in front of me to listen to you.

-Yeah, unfortunately I promised Vic and Zhaohui that I will accompany them for a visit to Suzhou Gardens.

-Who is Zhaohui? What Gardens?

-There are so many things that happened and so many things I need to tell you, that I will probably need two days to get everything out of my chest.

-Can you summarize at least?

-Sure. Let me answer your first question: Zhaohui is Vic’s fiancée.

-You are telling me that Vic found his half in China? Linda burst into a huge laughter while at the other end of the line John couldn’t help but crack a large smile.

-Vic is a completely changed man. He is half the size he used to be, he stopped drinking, he is not gambling anymore and he is fluent in Mandarin.

-Wow! Now this is impressive! How did this happen?

-Take a guess…

-Zhaohui?

-Bingo! You got it!

-Unbelievable! So, for him the move to China was all beneficial. He turned out to be a reborn man and he found a wife. Good for him! Tell Vic that I wish him and his fiancée all the best in the world.

-I will surely do so.

-What is this trip to those Gardens about?

-Not sure, but Zhaohui goes there as many times as she can, whenever she has a chance. It looks like these gardens present a sort of getaway for her, a sort of a place where she meditates and recharges her batteries. They specifically mentioned: “Humble Administrator’s Garden”…I don’t know the significance, but apparently it means quite a lot to her.

-Wow! This is fascinating!

-It surely is.

-What else can you tell me before they are picking you up?

-There are so many things that happened to me…I met Tony Gang – the guy in charge of the Office and I met the people he is associated with in this criminal activity.

-What? You think they have an organization, a cartel, a criminal enterprise that is stealing money from Glenworth?

-Positive.

-Incredible! So, your first instincts were right.

-Actually during the lunch I had with J.J. and Scott, I was warned that Tony could be the head of this organization or whatever it is. The actual fact is that he is not the brain of the enterprise. The head of this criminal cartel is Zhiming mao.

-What? Who is this Zhiming guy?

-You see…there are so many things which happened in this past week that it will take me forever to tell them to you through a phone line. This “guy” actually is the head of one of the most aristocratic families from the Ming Dynasty – The house of Chonghuan, the House which founded the “Seven Orchids Order”

-I am so lost…I don’t understand a word you are saying!

-Because (again) I need to spend many hours to tell you what happened from the beginning. Apparently I am part of some curse which happened when Chongzhen Emperor executed General Yuan Chonghuan. The General cursed the Emperor. The other thing that stands out of this is that this curse must end soon and I am (with or without my will) part of it.

-An Emperor, a general, an execution during Ming Dynasty, a curse and you: John Parker, are all related to each other…

-Yeap! John could actually hear Linda’s crystalline laughter at the other end and once again cracked a smile. Unfortunately, all the encounters he went through for the past six days and the (still fresh in his mind) meeting he had last night with Zhiming mao, made his smile look more like a barely visible sign of discomfort. His mind brought back in front of his eyes Zhiming mao and his statement: “if I wanted to kill you, you would’ve been dead by now”. Of course, he was not going to share this detail with Linda, but his voice was trembling and his wife picked up the change in his voice immediately.

-John, please come back home…you are really scaring me.

-Relax, hon! I think in a couple of weeks everything will be settled. I will be back for Thanksgiving.

-Thanksgiving? That’s almost six weeks away!

-I am just saying Thanksgiving. It could be a lot sooner. I will get to the bottom of this story soon, trust me. I got a good handle of it.

-OK, I trust you. But please, don’t do anything irrational, don’t get into situations you don’t recognize. Please stay prudent and safe!

-You know that I am always prudent and I have a nose for safety…

-Yeah, I know! The episode with the truck driver who you tackled to the ground in a gas station says it all about your prudency and nose for safety! Says it all!

-Common hon! This is a low blow! This time John couldn’t help himself but release a huge laughter from all his lungs’ capacity.

-No, it’s not a low blow, it’s the truth! Your competitive nature makes you sometimes take decisions which are not compatible with your calm, settled and cerebral nature. There are two Johns in you: one is balanced and intellectual, the other one is impulsive and makes split second decisions, decisions which are scaring me.

-Those split second decisions won a Championship, honey…it was indeed that split second decision which made me change my mind and I went for the throw. I knew I could make it, that’s why I took it. So, a decision initiated on gut feelings, was actually done based on using accumulated knowledge.

-Don’t talk technicalities to me! I know you better than you do!

-OK, OK! I will play safe. I will not throw, I will run the ball. At this point, both of them burst into a noisy and well deserved laughter, a laughter which cleared the atmosphere created by so many unknowns laying in front of them.

-OK, I let you go now. I will watch some Hockey, maybe a movie and go to sleep.

-Alright, hon! Stay safe and warm.

-I will. You take care of yourself. Bye now.

-By the way, before you hang up – John felt like wanted to get more out of his chest and decided to share with Linda his thoughts on his boss’s involvement into the story…

-I am listening…

-I, Vic and Zhaohui believe that J.J. has a hand into this whole adventure of mine in China. He is somehow related to the curse – as I am – and sent me there to probably do the dirty work for him.

-No way! You gotta’ be kidding! How is he involved? And why?

-Trying to understand myself honey, but it looks like all the roads are taking me to either J.J. or Zhiming mao.

-So, you are saying that J.J. set you up for failure? Why would he do that? It’s his company, his money!

-Linda, I do not know the answers myself…I am at least as puzzled as you are regarding J.J.’s involvement. But definitely he is using me somehow. I feel like he is the man in the shadows and this is not necessarily a bad thing. He is probably on my side, but I didn’t like the way he approached this business endeavor.

-Absolutely! He should’ve told you upfront what his intentions are! This is not fair to you…

-That’s OK hon, I am a big boy – I can handle it.

-Please be careful, John!

-I will, I promise.

-OK then. I let you go. Love you and please, please stay safe.

-You bet! Have a good day!

After she hung up, she didn’t feel quite well. It was a strange feeling…it felt more like a frustration that she is now alone while John is trying to figure out some centuries old curse (apparently related to funds drainage from Glenworth). She felt a bit of uneasiness…in her subconscious she realized that it was just a hidden and never tested way her brain was trying to tell her something.

The rest of the evening was spent between a frugal dinner and flipping through channels. An interesting Hockey game was on, but her mind was not at all into watching it…she couldn’t help but letting her brain go back to the conversation she had with her husband. The names which came out of the short chat, the apparent intricacy of the story, the fact that J.J. fed John to the wolves by sending him there in the middle of a conspiracy – or curse, or whatever was called – made her angry. Nervously she started flipping through the channels faster and faster until she realized that it is useless to get nervous and angry. She was not able to help John regardless of what she was doing. An immense feel of guilt and helplessness encompassed her. Few tears came out of her beautiful blue eyes…it was the relief valve she needed! A strange but comfortable sense of calmness followed the initial state of discomfort making her look for the favorite pillow and blanket. Once she turned off the night stand lamp and the TV, the warmth of the thick blanket deeply penetrated her body. A nice smile flourished on her lips. It was the sign that she was now relaxed and ready for a good and deserved sleep.

“Tomorrow it’s another day” whispered Linda and immediately fell asleep.

Shanghai Sun – The Curse of the General; Chapter 37 (Black Swan)

An American Executive travels to China to solve the mystery of funds drainage from the company he works for.

Once in Shanghai, he finds himself tangled into a world of mysticism, into a world of traditions going back hundreds of years, into a world of philosophical meanings meant to close cosmological paths and previously set destinies.

Action, romance, drama, humor, History, Geography and Philosophy – they all come together in an attempt to blend the dynamic western way of life onto the rich Chinese culture and uncanny traditions.

 

Chapter 37

Black Swan

John returned to the living room holding his head down. Vic’s fiancée request put a doubt into his head and the opportunity of negotiations with his neighbors was slowly fading out. He didn’t want to hear this, he was all in for negotiations, for a peaceful end to this story. Vic realized that he was in a certain amount of distress and mutely asked him what was going on.

-Zhaohui asked me to move immediately.

-This ain’t good. But she must’ve had a valid reason if she asked you to do it.

-I believe so, too. Another round of silence encompassed the room. Both men were now holding their heads down, trying to think at what the better way is out of this situation. Vic was first to react and change the tone in the room from a deep, gloomy and negative atmosphere into a friendlier and more optimistic one.

-Let me call Zihuan….Vic grabbed his cell and soon he was on the call with his primary detective.

John didn’t lose the chance to head for the window and admire again the unmatchable spectacle of barges sliding down onto Huangpu. It was a show he just couldn’t take out of his mind, a show which was acting on him like a drug on an addict, like a pill which brings instant happiness and relaxation.

-Guess what?

-What?

-Pictures are not ready. There are so many that they couldn’t finish arranging them in a chronological way. We will have to wait until tomorrow.

-This is not good…we are wasting an evening.

-That’s OK. Let’s go out take a short walk. Are you tired from the walk into the Gardens?

-No, I am not. Let’s go! I wouldn’t mind taking a stroll on one of the bridges above the river…something is telling me that we will witness a great view, something is telling me that I can take a look at Huangpu and its lights from a proximity which would make me “touch” the barges sliding down stream in their eternal attempt to reach the mouth of the Great Yangtze and then dock at the Shanghai Harbor. John grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

Vic was mesmerized! The last sentence which came out of John’s chest, made his eyes as large as an owl’s eyes, while pulling a real and sincere yell of admiration:

-Wow! Now you spoke like a poet! That was magnificent, man! Wow!

-Oh, well…this is what I do, man!

A great and loud laughter came out of their chests and in no time they were at the elevator and then downstairs at the Reception.

The city was still buzzing from the night life and was lit up like a Christmas tree during winter celebrations. They took a side walk and inevitably ended up on one of the bridges above the river. John’s heart was pounding inside his chest as he never looked at the waters below him so closely. It was such a great feeling! Maybe for others, the look at the dark waters, the height from which you were looking down, the intriguing and lurking message sent by the barges’ lights would’ve sent a different message, but for John, there was a message of calmness and relaxation, a message of normality and familiarity, a sign that he belonged somehow to this environment of commerce and sailing, of trade and perhaps war; but ultimately…it was sending a message of infinite freedom. John closed his eyes, largely opened his arms and deeply inhaled the odor of the waters patiently waiting for the moment when they will join the waters of the Great River and then merge into the immensity of the China Sea. To his surprise, the odor had a salty taste. It made him understand that the wind was blowing upstream and was bringing into the city the scent of the sea, the scent of the mixed sweet and salty waters of the Yangtze Delta.

John opened up his eyes and a great sense of easiness encompassed him. The spectacle he has been admiring from his hotel room and from the office was truly magnificent, now that he was standing right on top of the river. They were ready to move on, when all of a sudden a car passed by honking the horn and then stopping ten yards further down the street in a horrible tire squeaking noise. Their hearts stopped from beating! The car literally (few yards) passed by them, making both John and Vic become one with the protective fence of the bridge. There were already beads of sweat running down their temples. First thoughts were that Tony or his neighbors want to get rid of John and hired a driver to run him over. But then they realized that the car was a cab and the driver was probably just trying to pick up a piece of business. John’s heart started beating at an almost normal pace; however, when he saw the driver getting down and heading his direction, his eyes caught on fire and at that point were throwing bolts of anger. He was fuming from rage and fury.

-You gotta’ be kiddin’ me!

-Mister! Mister! Hello! Me, driver…

-I know you, of course! Of course I know you, you maniac!

-Mister! Mister! Go show! Take you show!

-What? I think I am going to take you by the neck and throw you into the river! This is what’s going to happen, you maniac! You think I am still going to ever get into a car with you?

John was screaming as he just found a way to release all the frustration he accumulated while heading to Vic’s place from the flower store. Yes, amazingly the same driver who took him last night from the hotel to the flower shop and then to Vic’s, stopped by and offered his services again. It was more than whatever John could take…

-I don’t wanna’ see you! Go away!

-Mister! Mister! Take you show! Good show!

-Didn’t you hear me? I will never get into that car of yours as long as you are driving! Isn’t this clear? How else do you want me to say this to you? Which part exactly you don’t understand? The one with driving, or the one when if you don’t immediately go away, I will dump you into the river?

John was not only screaming, he was now gesturing and imitating the sudden turns and the hard breaking situations from the previous night. His hands were simulating holding a steering wheel while his right foot was trying to replicate a breaking situation. Whoever was watching this little show, was rapidly drawing the conclusion that John was a mad man who just happened to have a spectator watching his show.

Vic was laughing so hard that he dropped onto one knee. Tears were coming out of his eyes while his whole body was shaking in an uncontrollable motion.

-Why are you laughing, man? This is the maniac who last night took me at your place! I think I am going to choke him!

-This is something to die for, man! To die for! You should’ve seen your face! Sorry man…I just couldn’t stop from laughing. You were all red while your face and the arms were gimmicking such strange motions! You put up quite a good spectacle.

-And this maniac wants to take us to some show, right? John’s voice was already high pitched and the tonality was still showing a great deal of frustration.

-Yeah, let me talk to him.

-You’re kiddin’, right? You want to go to a show taking this maniac’s cab, right? Is this what I am actually hearing, or all of a sudden I lost my English comprehension?

-Hey, you never know what he has in mind…it could be a good show which I would never say “no” to.

-I can’t believe you are doing this!

-Relax, man…let me see what this show is about. Vic headed towards the taxi driver which as a result of John’s gestures retreated towards his car. The conversation between Vic and the taxi driver took a couple of minutes; in this time frame John realized that he has to calm down that he has to bring his spirit back up to the level which allows him to have a clear mind in order to make the right decisions. J.J.’s words popped up again into his mind: “only look at the big picture, John; only at the big picture” He felt how his face and the whole body relaxed, thus giving him another chance to take a look at the river underneath.

-We are heading for the show. Let’s get in.

-You gotta’ be joking! We are heading to a show now?

-Yes, I think it is a good one.

-What sort of show, man? And where about?

-It is a traditional music show. The driver told me that the band is made up of four girls and they are performing in a Club not far from here. He also told me that their style of singing is based on traditional Chinese music but then it turns towards pop-rock style. So basically is a blend between the two.

-This is crazy! These are two completely different styles of music! How can they go together? John burst into a large laughter while his arms were simulating a gesture of distrust and amusement.

-Well, this is why we will go there. Let’s see what this music style is about. The cab driver is very enthusiastic about this show.

-Don’t mention! I still feel like chocking him!

It was Vic’s turn to burst into laughter. Nevertheless, John took the back seat while Vic chose the passenger front seat, in an attempt to keep an eye on the driver and his behavior. It didn’t work out…the cab owner stepped on the accelerator so hard, that made Vic feel like he dove into the seat.

-Here we go again! I told you that this guy is mental!

Vic burst again into a huge laughter while telling John to relax and enjoy the ride.

John didn’t want to argue with Vic anymore and so he put on the seat belt and prepared himself for the worst.

It wasn’t long before the cab pulled in front of Club, situated somehow on one of those little side streets of downtown Shanghai. Of course, the driver felt again like he wanted to show off his driving skills and slammed on the breaks so hard, that made Vic almost hit the windshield with his head. This time it was too much even for Vic…his conversation with the driver was quite heated up, which made John burst into laughter this time.

-Told you! This guy is a maniac!

The argument between Vic and the driver carried on, so John realized that it is much more productive for him to get out of the car and start assessing the surroundings. He started methodically look at the building from both the point of view of a man who’s never been in that place and wanted to know his surroundings and from the point of view of someone who was bracing for unusual situations. For some reason he felt at unease, he felt like he was about to step into something strange, into something he did not understand or comprehend, into something surrounded by mysticism and unknown.

“Black Swan” was the name written in English only, which made John raise an eye brow. He couldn’t help but admire the picture of the bird depicted by the name of the club, shown on the frontispieces and majestically represented with its two wings fully stretched. The place was not even close to be called a real Club and this was not due to the location being non-central or at least at one of the main streets. No. It was due to the fact that one would’ve expected a certain level of western like atmosphere. When you say: “Club” one would think at a noisy band playing pop or rock music, one would think at someone playing the guitar or the drums…the small stage was pretty much fully taken by four chairs and some strange instruments John did not recognize. One of them however, stirred his interest: it had the shape of a pear and looked like a mandolin. When he asked Vic what was the name of that strange looking instrument, the answer came quickly: “Pipa”

John raised his left eye browse, signaling that he was not happy with the answer. Vic raised his shoulders and answered John’s muted question: “it’s all I know about those instruments”

John started screening more carefully for the other instruments…one of them was the shape of a flute, while the other two had the silhouettes of a violin and a double bass. His curiosity and the ear for music were now enticed by the unusual shape of those four instruments which somehow reminded him modern “tools” used by the pop or rock bands.

Then he looked at Vic. His friend wasn’t paying much attention to the details John did, but was somehow focused on scrutinizing the crowd inside the Club. John followed his friend’s sight and inevitably identified four individuals sitting at one of the tables in the front. They were making lots of noise and one would guess that they were already drunk. John assessed immediately the situation: four large drunk males, all westerners, all speaking with a strange English accent waiting for the show to start. They were pounding already on their table with their fists demanding for the band to show up on the stage.

-This could be trouble…Vic was interrogatively looking at John, mutely asking: “Shall we go? I don’t like it”

-No, I want to stay. Initially it was his tremendous curiosity in learning more about the sounds those instruments were making, curiosity which was asking him to stay. But now, it was something else…it was a rage he was feeling towards those individuals who were behaving in such a manner which back home would’ve found them being tossed out of the Club by now. His blood was boiling and he was all tensed and ready to confront them. There was still something which was holding him back. His eye sight was periodically checking the back stage place where the artists supposedly were entering for the show. Not a move was coming from that direction.

-These guys are sailors. I believe they are Aussies. I heard this accent before…when I was doing…you know…

-You think so?

-Positive. When they dock, those are the first places they visit. Chinese gambling. They bet on anything you can imagine. Of course they lose their shirts in a matter of hours…

-It looks to me that these guys have been here before.

-I had that feeling to. Let me ask the cab driver.

-You are telling me that this maniac is joining us for the show?

-Relax. I like him. He told me that he learnt some things on a special driving class he was taking and he wanted to show them to us.

Both John and Vic burst into a long, loud and healthy laughter. Tears were coming from John’s eyes.

-Man, I am so happy I have you as a friend in this weird and completely strange environment! I owe you a six pack, whenever you are up to the task.

-Roger that! Don’t forget what you just said!

Another round of laughter came out of their chests. The mood was set for the two friends to have a great evening.

-Hang on…your cab driver is waving at us.

-Where? Can’t see him.

-To the left…to the left of the table where those four drunken scumbags are sitting.

-Great! Now we have them as our neighbors.

-Never mind. Those are premium seats. Let’s go take them. He must’ve bribed the waiter a fortune. I saw a “Reserved” sign on the table.

-How can you remove a “Reserved” sign? What if the people who booked it showed up?

Vic abruptly stopped then turned a hundred eighty degrees around and looked John straight into his eyes:

-As I mentioned to you at the Gardens…please, please, please, don’t move to China.

-What did I say, man? I just believe that it is not fair for us to take the table of someone who reserved it. That’s all.

It was the time when Vic hit his forehead with his palm and started nervously shaking his head…

-Would you mind just follow me, please!

-OK, OK…but this doesn’t mean that I agree with the strategy.

-John, why don’t you understand that you are not in America anymore? Why don’t you understand that things at this level (Vic put his palm half way to the ground trying to mimic a normal life situation), are unfolding at a different pace, and have a completely different meaning comparing to back home? For instance, what we are seeing now, it’s normal. The people who made the reservation didn’t show up, so we took their seats! Clear?

-OK, OK…I am not arguing with you anymore, but this is not right.

Vic hit his head once again with his palm, making a noise which was noticed by the cab driver as they were approaching the table. The man jumped from his seat and greeted the two friends with a deep bow and respectfully invited them to have a seat.

-Is he trying to tell us something? He is behaving like a host.

-Let me ask…it was a short conversation between Vic and the cab driver. At the end it got quite heated up, which made John raise once again his eye browse…

-OK, he is telling me that this is his treat because he likes us.

-No way, man! What do you mean his treat?

-He pays for seats and obviously he picked up the bribe he gave to the waiter.

-No way…what if we want to do some drinks?

-That’s on us.

-OK. Then this becomes more doable…what a strange night!

-Welcome to Shanghai, man! Vic burst again into laughter and grabbed John by the shoulder: we will have fun. I know it.

-I hope so. Twenty four hours ago, I was threatened with death…

-We’ll get out of this, John…don’t worry.

-How can you be so sure? How can you be so positive?

-Because Zhaohui has a plan. And this is all I care about. She always finds a way…always. She has a sense of avoiding danger and navigate through the choppy waters like nobody else on this planet.

-Alright then. I trust you…actually let me rephrase it: I trust Zhaohui.

Both friends burst again into a huge laughter, which this time brought the attention of the four persons sitting next to them.

-G’day, mates! How you going?

Both Vic and John were perplexed. They didn’t expect their neighbors to approach them. It was either the beginning of a normal, friendly and peaceful event, or it was just the calm before the storm.

John tilted his head forward thus simulating a greeting and then with a voice of a man who was in command, replied:

-Good evening to you too, gentlemen!

-What you mates having for a drink?

-We are here just for the show. We are not drinking.

A huge laughter was heard from the neighbors’ table. John’s face turned red from what he considered a very insulting type of behavior. Vic looked at him and with a very discrete sign told John to calm down.

Another man from the neighbor’s group weighed in even more, just to add to the insult:

-What, yaw ladies too delicate to drink?

It was the moment when John was already at the edge of his chair being ready to spring into action…Vic grabbed his wrist and managed to stop him, while the cab driver was still trying to comprehend what was going on. Fear was written on his face and one would’ve realized that he was frightened, that he was trying to find a solution. He stood up and headed straight for the side door, where the waiters supposedly were coming out with their food and drinks. It seemed that he was at home, that he knows everybody in that place.

Immediately he came out accompanied by someone who looked like to be the owner. They both approached the table of the four disturbers and in an English which seemed to be quite OK for a non-English speaking person, politely asked the men to behave so the show could get on going.

The reaction from the drunken individuals was as John and Vic expected and feared. They all stood up and started noisily mocking the man and his English. It was too much for John to take. He sprung from his chair and headed straight for the troubling table. Vic followed and soon, a stand up of small proportions was facing the actors of this unusual scene.

-So, yaw all want to get a beating, yaw?

-We just want to watch the show, that’s all. So, we are asking you to take a seat and stop disturbing.

-Really, yaw pretty boy? And if we don’t take a seat what yaw going to do?

John was trembling. He felt so close of launching a jab into man’s jaw, but the next second something unusual and strange happened…through the same door where the owner came out, a massive, truly impressive individual came out. This man was literally the size of the door. He was dressed into a black suit, white shirt and a black tie. The sun glasses he was wearing were hiding his slender eyes, but the face physiognomy was betraying an Asian individual. He slowly walked at the table and placed himself between John and the turbulent individual. John was amazed by the size of this person, in spite of the fact that during his Football career he played alongside many big individuals.

The appearance of this Goliath brought a sudden quietness at the two tables, his stature implying nothing less but respect and admiration. The four troubling men found themselves into the situation where they had to sit as they were also impressed by the size of the man wearing a black suit.

Once every sign of disturbance was removed, the body guard stepped aside and leaned against the wall. It was a detail which was noticed by both tables. A two minutes of silence made everybody from the restaurant think that if one would’ve dropped a pin, the echo would’ve been heard.

The cab driver rubbed his hands thus expressing a high degree of happiness.

-Show good, Mister. Show good!

-I believe you. What is your name?

-Yuan Jun. Nice meet you, Mister…

-Parker is my name. John Parker.

-Nice meet you Mr. Parker. Show good!

-Again, I do believe it will be a good show. Nice to meet you too, Yuan Jun.

The happiness on man’s face was something which made John smile. “Well, as they are saying: happiness resides in small things. Let’s see what the show is about”

John’s insatiable curiosity made him whisper a question into Vic’s ear:

-By the way…what does Yuan Jun mean?

-Fountain of joy.

-It makes lots of sense…looks like he is pretty happy we are here.

-Yeah…it seems like he is quite joyful. Let’s watch the show now.

The lights came down and on the stage four girls showed up; they bowed and then each one took her place into the band. It was the moment when John felt like he swallowed his Adam’s apple…his whole body was captured by emotions running from reverence and wonder to sincere admiration.

Shanghai Sun – The Curse of the General; Chapter 35 (The dream of an October’s evening)

An American Executive travels to China to solve the mystery of funds drainage from the company he works for.

Once in Shanghai, he finds himself tangled into a world of mysticism, into a world of traditions going back hundreds of years, into a world of philosophical meanings meant to close cosmological paths and previously set destinies.

Action, romance, drama, humor, History, Geography and Philosophy – they all come together in an attempt to blend the dynamic western way of life onto the rich Chinese culture and uncanny traditions.

Chapter 35

The dream of an October’s evening

As the day was coming to a conclusion, the Humble Administrator’s Garden was particularly beautiful. Something was making it different from all the other days when she visited and meditated here. It was probably the fact that in that early October day, the sun was still generously releasing its warmth over the city while the shadows of the evening were splendidly encompassing the leaves colored in a pallet of a myriad shades and hundreds of tonalities and blends. The birds were relentlessly chirping and singing in a symphony of unmatchable tunes and unimaginably diverse musical keys. That evening was special indeed and one could say that God was in a very good mood of making the surroundings beautifully blend with the color of the leaves and the birds singing, while people were carefully watching and listening to his majestic creation. It looked like the nature was trying to get a last full breath of summer before the winter would set and a last glimpse of a superb spectacle of music, sounds, colors and nuances represented the fourth movement of a well-orchestrated symphony.

The noise of the galloping horses was slowly reaching the Garden. The Humble Administrator’s fine ears picked up the echo and startled. With a firm gesture, he ordered one of the bodyguards to run and check with the guards who were on watch in the towers. In the meantime, another set of orders generated a rampage inside of the Garden…a swarm of people came out of nowhere and started picking up the precious china vases, silk fabrics, cloths, pillows and bed covers and run towards a place which seemed to be an escape route as it was dug into the close by hill. The precision at which everybody was moving, showed that dry runs were done before as nothing was chaotic, random or in disarray.

The old man was now standing in front of the water fall which with a nice and melodic whisper was greeting the visitors entering the kiosk and then the garden itself. His tanned skin was contrasting with his long white goat beard, beard he was smoothening with calculated and slow motions. His small, oblique eyes were as sharp as the eyes of a badger, betraying a highly intelligent and educated man. He was keeping his hands joined together in front of him and one could see that they were small and delicate thus telling the interlocutor that he was not used with the physical labor or with the art of handling war weapons. Everything about this old man transpired peace, study, intelligentsia and academic achievements. His small stature was emphasized even more by the fact that his back was bent from the middle section, showing a man at a very respectable age. However, the way he was moving around and giving orders to the servants, showed an individual still highly active and energetic, showed a man which in spite of his age was as sharp intellectually and physically as a young man.

Beside him, a girl was playing with her toys. She was probably twelve years old and was dressed in an all-white silk suite with green jade buttons closing her tunic. The hair was long and dark and the eyes equally black and vivid, full of life and energy. From time to time, the old man was stroking her hair, in a sign of respect, pure love and untainted affection, denoting deep and meaningful ties with the girl or her family.

-Where do they all go, Teacher?

The old man startled and looked the girl straight into the eyes. There was so much affection, love, respect and in the same time fear into the old man’s eyes that the girl started weeping. Something in her child soul was telling her that they were in danger and bad things would happen to her and the Teacher.

The guard sent by the old man to check the source of the noise came back accompanied by two strangers, two westerners (judging by their cloths and by their faces). They were full of blood and sweat while their cloths were bearing multiple cuts, showing that they have been through some sort of fight. Beside them, a little girl, probably two or three years younger than the girl who was calling the old man “Teacher” was trying hard to hide a severe injury and not cry from pain. Her left arm was cut and the bandages she was wearing in that area, were soaked in blood.

Both old man and the girl from the Garden jumped to hug her, showing an affection hard to imagine if they were not blood related. The old man had tears into his eyes and didn’t know anymore how to hug both little girls at once.

-Teacher…Teacher…It was one of the two men who was trying to communicate that they are running out of time. He was tall, thin, with a tanned face and grizzled hair. One would say that he was in his fifties. In spite of the fact that he was thin at the first sight, the cuts on his shirt were reveling a muscular individual, a man used with the sword or lance fight, a man who had been through lots of hardship in his life, a man who was bearing on his body the results of a tumultuous life spent mostly in battles. Three healed wounds on his face showed that once, three deep vertical sword cuts struck him.

The man standing beside him, was a young, tall individual, with the stature of a wrestler. His broad shoulders and thick arms was revealing a man who was valuing physical activities and judging by the fact that he also had a deep cut on his forehead, one would safely assume that he was used with the sword fight as well. The cut was fresh, as his whole face was covered in blood; the sweat and the dust from the riding did him a favor and patched the wound. However, his tanned skin and the height, his dark short cut hair and the fresh wound, his athletic build and the fire power of his eyes were all working together in presenting to the audience a superb warrior.

-Teacher…we are running out of time. Just the two of us escaped the ambush. The Emperor gave us twenty guards. They are all dead. We killed most of the attackers, but more of them will come as those few who escaped will get back to the peasants camp. I am sure Li Zicheng will send more troops. We need fresh horses. We must leave now. We have to make it to Shanghai port. Our ship is docked there. Emperor’s order is to take the girls to a Monastery in Canton.

At that time, the Garden was also serving as a fortress and was surrounded by walls with watch towers. One could see the two horses the men rode: they were covered in a white and red foam, telling the viewer the story they had recently been through a fight and many miles of galloping. Their black skin was now mostly covered with their sweat and the enemy’s blood. The horse keepers were wiping the sweat off of their skin; their legs were shaking like the leaves into the wind showing that they had been through a rough and prolonged galloping.

-Changping needs a doctor. She lost lots of blood.

The old man looked at the guard and with a still calm voice asked him to get his personal doctor. It took little time before an old man carrying a sort of wooden case showed up and skillfully removed the bandages and started cleaning the wound. He gave the girl a drink and asked her to swallow it. The pain stopped immediately and a sense of relaxation and even a smile showed up on her little face. The older girl was holding her sister (one would assume) in her arms and was trying to console her. The Teacher looked at the two men and with the sharpness of his eyes asked a mute question, a question the two men were hoping that they were never asked. They both put their heads down, in a sign that they do not feel like answering. A long and overwhelming silence followed. One could hear a pin drop if that happened. When the two warriors raised their heads, they saw an old man who looked like he was bent even more from the hips, they saw an old man in tears, an old man who lost the spark from his eyes, who lost his will to live. Without them answering the muted question, the Teacher understood that the little girl defended herself from a sword strike. It was the strike of her father, the Emperor, who rather had her dead than captured by the peasants. Luckily, the two men were in the room. They covered her with their bodies and begged the Emperor not to kill her. The two men were Portuguese merchants who were doing business with the Imperial Court. Their advice were highly regarded by Chongzhen Emperor. He spared the girl’s life and ordered them to take her to a monastery in the South.

By clapping his hands twice, the Teacher gave few short orders. Immediately another doctor showed up accompanied by few women carrying a couple of basins with warm water. The two men took their shirts off and one could actually see the multiple cuts they had on their upper bodies as trademarks of the fight they had just been through.

The skillful hands of the women carefully washed the wounds; it was the time when the doctor took over by carefully sprinkling something which would look like being crushed dried plants. Every single cut was analyzed and immediately treated. After a short wait, his small but proficient hands started closing the wounds with a needle and strings barely visible to the naked eye. One would realize right away that he had done this activity many times before as in a short while the gashes from the cuts were limited to a simple thin line represented by the stitches of the seam. Another powder was sprinkled on top of now closed wounds. With a calm yet demanding voice, the doctor asked them to lie down and rest.

-We do not have time for resting! The older of the two men stood and in few seconds he put the shirt and the tunic back on, checked his sword and the three daggers he was carrying into individual scabbards at the belt and checked the two pistols hanging from the same thick waist leather belt.  Another shorter sword (tucked into the scabbard held on his back by another leather belt) was the last piece of an impressive arsenal he was wearing. The younger fella’s war attire was similar except that he had five daggers at the belt and two shorter swords on his back, swords which at any time were forming an “X” sign, showing this way the fact that they could’ve been easily withdrawn with both hands simultaneously. Both main swords of these men had a wide, curved blade towards the end and one would say that something like this was the trademark of the pirates. Amazingly, into the short time they had to treat their wounds, the women cleaned up their cloths, washed them, dried them up and sewed or patched the multiple sword cuts they were bearing.

-We thank you for your help, but we must leave now! By sun set, they will be back with reinforcements. She comes with us! It is the order of the Emperor. Both girls will be hosted by the same monastery in Canton. For now, we cannot tell you where. If one day you need to find them, you have to look for us. Our ship always docks in Shanghai when we are in China. You have to ask for “Esperanza” – this is her name. More details on how to reach us, you can get from Dewei Wang. He owns a tavern right at the docks. It is called: Black Swan. He is a good friend of ours…You have to hide now. They know who you are and they will kill you. These walls won’t last long. You must hide!

The eyes of the old man were flooded with tears in that moment. He was holding both girls close his chest and was gently stroking their black hair. Without fully knowing what was going on, the older girl understood that the situation was grave and gloomy, that something big happened. Her sister showed up with a severed arm, carried on a horse by one of the two warriors who were as well covered in blood and riddled by wounds. In a moment of sincerity, or maybe a moment of self-preservation, the two girls hugged each other so hard, that it took the old warrior some time to be able to separate them. The horses were ready. One with a keen eye for horses would’ve realized right away that these two exemplars were bred for running over long distances. Their legs were not that slim and tall as those that brought the girls and the warriors to the Garden. Their chest muscles, the back legs, the neck and the middle section area made the two warriors whistle of admiration. They were superb to say the least; their black, well maintained skin, tails and manes were showing that the grooms did not spare any resources to make them shine and shimmer when taken out of the stables.

-It is time! We must go! The voice of the older of the two solders was firm and commanding. Both men were already in the saddles. The old man hugged the girls for the last time. It was a moment when one would compare the three of them with a majestic tree and two of its offshoots. The tears coming out of the old’s man eyes were falling on the heads of the girls, while the girls were accompanying their tutor with sincere child’s tears of emotion as they understood that they have to say good bye.

It was again the older warrior who un-saddled and grabbed the girls by their waist and carried them to the horses. He handed the younger one to his partner and jumped onto the back of his horse while still holding the older girl. The gates opened up and the sailors stormed out of the Garden in the sounds of a frantic galloping and an array of sparks from the horses’ steel shoes hitting the stone paved alley. The old man stretched his hands towards the direction the horses were heading, while the two girls turned around in the saddles and with a last gesture of god bye, screamed from the bottom of their lungs: “Teacher! Teacher! Teacher!”

Zhaohui startled and with the back of her hand wiped the sweat which was now running all over her forehead and down her temples, only to join around the chin and then drop into her lap. This was for the first time when two sisters showed up into her dreams. Until now, each time she was meditating in the garden, only pleasant dreams came along: a girl playing into the garden, chasing the swans, feeding the fishes, walking around and listening to the Teacher. Now, the dream turned into a nightmare: battle horses, warriors, blood, a brutal departure and an unexpected farewell said to the Teacher. She jumped on her feet and looked towards the direction Vic and John were sitting. She grabbed her temples with her palms, thus trying to slow down the heart rate which was making her vanes pulsate at a high rate. She was still sweating buckets and her eyes became as sharp and thin like a steel blade. One would say it was a cry of helplessness and uncertainty, a cry of unforeseen trouble and challenges. Slowly, she approached the two friends. John turned around and with a voice as frightened as the voice of a grown man can be, exclaimed:

-Jesus…!  Zhaohui, are you OK? Vic’s voice betrayed a deep concern and for good reasons: his fiancée was still under a deep state of distress. Her face was pale, the lips were murmuring something nobody could understand and the eyes had a glimpse of fear in them (which for somebody who knew her), was totally uncharacteristic. John was terrified! The change Zhaohui went through in a matter of probably half an hour, was ineffable…the well-known cold sweat running down his spine made its presence known yet again. A pale Zhaohui, a woman with a vague and undecided look into her eyes was now gazing at them both. It was something John could not bare anymore, so he turned his head to the side and thus avoided the eye contact with her.

-I’m OK, I’m OK…sorry Vic, sorry John! I got a bit carried away by the dream…it is late, let’s go now. In half an hour will be dark.

The ride back to Shanghai was uneventful, which gave John the opportunity to think at the events of his first Sunday in China. As much as he wanted to remember the gorgeous landscape of the Gardens, the multitude of leaves’ colors, the myriad of nuances coming from a perfect blending between water, vegetation, rocks and living things, he simply couldn’t help his memory but going back to Zhaohui’s face when coming out from the Garden. The extent of metamorphosis which took place while she meditated was incredible to say the least. From a calm, balanced, self-mastered individual, she changed into a woman whose eyes were betraying wavering and hesitating gestures. “What was that dream about which made her change so drastically? It is unbelievable how fast and at what sort of content she managed to turn the page! Completely different person! What was the dream about?” This question tormented his thoughts all the way back to Shanghai. While driving back, a heavy and uncomfortable feel of wariness encompassed all three of them. Zhaohui was in the back seat holding her head between her palms. Vic was keeping his eyes completely focused on the road and never felt like saying a word, cracking a joke or even open up a small talk with John. His friend was once again asking himself questions on his role in this endeavor, on Zhaohui’s transformation after meditating, on whether or not is the appropriate time to tell his friends about his neighbors. John felt like the more questions he was asking, instead of getting answers, more questions were popping up. “I am like a gunny pig on the wheel! No matter how many steps I make, the wheel is just spinning, it takes me nowhere. I have to break the shaft and make the wheel roll forward! That’s it! When we get to the hotel, I will tell them last night’s story! Maybe it is related to Zhaohui’s recent state of mind and whatever she went through in the Garden. Everything is related to everything in this country!”

-Guys, let’s go upstairs and have a drink. I need to tell you something. John decided that he should share his last night’s experience with his friends. When passing the lobby area, all three of them involuntarily turned their heads towards the direction where the heavenly smell of the lemon flowers was so profound and yet so discrete and delicate that one couldn’t have passed by without noticing it. Once inside of the apartment, something strange happened: all three of them headed straight for the window and for few minutes nobody said a word. The eyes of the three friends were now completely captured by the great show of the silhouettes sliding down or upstream Huangpu, a show which never ends, a show that’s been continuously running for many centuries, a spectacle of light at night, a theater play which has been and still is quintessential in bringing together the synergies of the Upper and Lower China. It was very quiet in the room and if a pin would drop, one could hear its “ding”. John slowly moved back (trying not to disturb his friends) and headed for the kitchen. Turned on the light, grabbed a bottle of wine and poured the red liquid into the glasses.

-I just assumed that everybody will have wine. Any other preferences?

His question made Vic and Zhaohui startle. They turned around and with a hand sign saying: “it’s OK with us, whatever you have on hand” left the window area and headed back towards the couch. John placed the glasses in front of them, waited for his guests to sit and then took a sit into the closest arm chair. A friendly “cheers” came out of their chests and for few minutes everybody kept quiet, this time simply trying to enjoy the scent of the grape vine flowers which was coming out of the glasses in a bouquet of aromas hard to describe.

 

Shanghai Sun – The Curse of the General; Chapter 34 (Suzhou Gardens – Humble Administrator’s Garden)

An American Executive travels to China to solve the mystery of funds drainage from the company he works for.

Once in Shanghai, he finds himself tangled into a world of mysticism, into a world of traditions going back hundreds of years, into a world of philosophical meanings meant to close cosmological paths and previously set destinies.

Action, romance, drama, humor, History, Geography and Philosophy – they all come together in an attempt to blend the dynamic western way of life onto the rich Chinese culture and uncanny traditions.

 

Chapter 34

Suzhou Gardens – Humble Administrator’s Garden

 When the cell phone went off, John realized that it was already late and Vic and Zhaohui might’ve already been waited for him in the Lobby.

-Hey, how you doin’, man?

-I am doing fantastic! Ready? It’s a gorgeous day outside.

-Actually I was still sleeping when you called.

-Oh, I am sorry, John! Should we come later and pick you up? Do you still want to go see the Gardens? This time of the year the colors are absolutely splendid.

-Of course I want to go, but I need to get ready. Come on up, don’t wait in the Lobby.

-OK. We’ll be there in few minutes.

-I will unlock the door. Just get in and make yourself at home. You can even make coffee for us if you want.

-Great! I will see in a few.

John headed for the shower in spite of the fact that he was half asleep. Yesterday’s events were still fresh into his mind. As the water was running down onto his body, he started getting into the “ready” mood, the state of mind he was always beginning his days with. As usual, a quick cold water run at the end, made him completely come out of his sleepy mode and gave him that energy boost which was always bringing good and fresh ideas for the day in front of him, which was always guiding him on setting priorities.

He quickly dried himself out, put on a pair of jeans, a thick fleeced V-shaped T-shirt and a pair of sneakers.

In the living room, Vic was making coffee, while Zhaohui was admiring the panoramic view of the Huangpu and downtown Shanghai.

-Good morning, guys!

-Good morning, John! Did you sleep well? Zhaohui’s face was radiant and her almond shaped eyes were radiating such a great level of happiness that made John reconsider his initial thought of telling them of his last night encounter with his neighbors. “I am not going to ruin her happiness! She is obviously so excited that we are going to see the Gardens! I will for sure talk to Vic tomorrow. I have to tell them. Zhiming mao threatened me and it is clear that we are playing into different teams”

-Coffee is ready! Vic was rubbing his hands against each other with a deep feeling of satisfaction imprinted on his face. Your tea is done too, Zhaohui.

-Thanks, Vic!

-Thank you, man! Now, let’s assess the quality of your product!

-Don’t you dare say anything wrong about my coffee making talents!

The room filled up right away with a sincere and healthy laughter, with a great joy and heartfelt friendship.

-Would you two guys mind if I have my tea by the window?

-No, not at all, Zhaohui! That is my favorite spot too. Especially at night…it is so beautiful! I like to watch the barges slipping downstream into the night. Their lights into the night are captivating, in spite of the fact that they are competing against the city’s illumination.

Zhaohui looked straight into John’s eyes. Her sight was so intense and profound, was so daring and bold, that made John almost swallow his Adam’s apple. Her eyes were acting like two laser beams trying to pierce a thick iron shield, trying to penetrate John’s soul and mind all the way to its last hidden spot.

Realizing that she put John into an unusual situation, she apologized immediately.

-I’m sorry John. I didn’t mean to be so intruding.

-That’s alright, Zhaohui. We both love that spot. It is magic, indeed.

-Which spot? What are you two guys talking about?

-Nothing…both Zhaohui and I like the view from that large window.

-Yes, it is a great view, I have to admit. Now let’s have a coffee.

That being said, John and Vic took a seat on the couch and started chit-chatting, bringing to the surface memories of the office life back in America, memories of parties at the local pubs during a football game, or just memories of the good old times when they were much younger. Zhaohui was simply too absorbed in watching the great spectacle Huangpu was offering on a Sunday morning, to even bother listening to what the guys were saying. She took a seat into the nice, comfortable chair and sank her eyes into the waters of the river which was part of so many centuries of hardship during the great Imperial Chinese history.

One hour passed by so fast, that all three of them felt like it was just five minutes ago when Vic and Zhaohui made it to the apartment. Eventually Vic looked at the clock on his cell phone and jumped on his feet:

-It is getting late. If we want to see all the gardens, we have to leave now.

-Great, then let’s move!

Zhaohui turned her chair around and in a heartbeat was on her feet. One could see that she was sad for not being able to watch the spectacle below anymore, but in the same time her face was radiating from the fact that they were heading to Suzhou to visit the Gardens. It was something that she and Vic were doing as often as they had a chance, or when they felt tired and worn out. For Zhaohui, the gardens always represented an immense reservoir of energy, of life, of optimism and drive to move on. She has seen them many times, in different seasons. But every time she was coming back, she felt like she discovered something new, she felt like a small portion of her heart was left there, among the water lilies and lotus flowers.

While locking the door of the apartment, John couldn’t help but throwing a peak at his neighbors’ door. It was shut and no movement or noise was coming out of there.

All the booths which were selling tickets were very busy and huge lineups were formed around the gates. Vic got in line and with a resigned shrug of the shoulders signaled to his friend and fiancée that they have no choice but to wait in line like everybody else or come back next week at an earlier time.

All of a sudden, Zhaohui headed towards one of the volunteers responsible with directing the crowds and managing the orderly entrance into the gardens. It was one of her students. They shook hands and an unstoppable flow of greetings followed from both sides. Zhaohui’s interlocutor was a girl in her teens, who managed to catch John’s attention through her beautiful, large smile. The glasses she was wearing were a little too large for her face, but the overall look showed a girl determined to succeed in her life through hard work and willpower. Shortly after encounter, Zhaohui made a discreet sign to John. Initially, John didn’t know how to react, but realized right away that the girl Vic’s fiancée was chatting with, would be able to get them in without lining up. John hesitated, as his mind and his training, his professional and moral structure would’ve never had agreed to cut off in line and get ahead of somebody. But Zhaohui insistently was pointing towards Vic. John turned around and grabbed Vic by the sleeve.

-Apparently your fiancée wants to tell you something.

Vic turned his head and in few seconds understood exactly what Zhaohui was signaling.

-She found a way in, without us lining up.

-I don’t want to be special!

-Fortunately, it’s not up to you. We have an easier way in and it is perfectly legal and moral. Is this OK with you? John was stunned!

-How is this morally acceptable to get ahead of everybody else who is lining up and is waiting for his or her turn to get in?

-You’ll see. Come and stop asking questions, man! We are already late. The days are shorter this time of the year.

John put his head down (in a sign that he was ashamed of what he was doing) and simply followed Vic towards the direction where Zhaohui was still chatting with the girl she met. He shook hands and once again, he had the chance to admire a beautiful and innocent smile.

-OK. Fantastic arrangement: she will be our guide inside.

-Our guide? You guys had visited these gardens probably a hundred times! Why do you need a guide?

-John, let me tell you something: you have to put this into your mind: in China everything is possible if you know somebody or you know how to use the system. And it doesn’t have to necessary be illegal or immoral. But you must know the system.

-OK, smart guy…then tell me how are you using the system to get us ahead of everybody who is lining up here and still be legal or at least moral?

-I will tell you how: we are here for the first time and we need a guide to explain to us the history of these gardens, how they were built, who built them, and so on. And because we need a guide, we will pay a premium price for the tickets. The Gardens are making some extra cash and we get in faster. Understood?

-You were here before, you know these gardens better than the guide!

-Pardon! Nobody knows that. The system is telling us that if we take a guide and we pay a premium, we can cut off into the line. Simple like that!

John shook his head and dropped his chin again, mutely telling Vic that he is not buying his story and he still believes that they should’ve lined up like everybody else. Vic looked for few seconds at his friend’s face and while grabbing the back of John’s neck with his hand, he looked deeply into his eyes and said:

-John, my friend…please promise me that you will never move to China. John startled and while looking Vic straight into his eyes, asked him:

-Why are you making me promise something like this?

-Because this country will eat you alive, man! Will eat you alive.

-Alright gentlemen, let’s get in. Ah Lam will be our guide. Zhaohui’s voice was crystal clear and was exuberating from such a joy that made John completely give up his qualms of conscience and simply joined in, making Vic take a breath of fresh air and sigh peacefully.

This time of the year, the Gardens were astonishing! The multitude of different colored leafs starting with the green of the conifers, the hot red of the maple trees and then to the specific yellowish of the oaks, made this spectacle of nuances a festival of colors, a festival of joy and admiration towards the power and the beauty of the Mother Nature. John was stunned by the beauty in front of him, but mostly he was dazed by the way the architects managed to blend the nature with the human touch, the way the fish ponds and the waterfalls were speaking to the huge stones brought by the masons to simulate the mountains, the way the outstanding red pagodas were overseeing the landscape eventually ending up by whispering into the ears of the colorful fishes which cautiously were taking cover between the leafs of the royal lotus and water lily flowers.

The guide was doing her job and was explaining the way the architects built the nine Gardens, the way each of them was envisioned, the period in which was built and what was its main significance, meaning, purpose and of course the story which led to building it. John was listening very carefully, like a kid taken into a trip to a place he loved, like a scholar listening to the favorite teacher. In his eyes, the way the architects managed to marry the nature and the man made features of the Gardens, was impressive to say the least.

Two hours passed by when they realized that they had barely seen four out of the nine Gardens. It was already two a ’clock in the afternoon and all four of them increased the pace. Every Garden had something different, something that was making it unique, yet making it an integral part of the whole assembly.

-Last one, announced Ah Lam.

-Great, it is already getting dark.

-Vic, John…if you want you can go ahead and wait for me at the exit. I need to meditate a little by the water fall.

John was shocked! “She needs to meditate!” Vic saw the expression on his friend’s face and quickly came with an answer which removed any sort of wonder from John’s physiognomy.

-She has a favorite spot here, inside of Humble Administrator’s Garden, a place where she likes to meditate in front of a water fountain. It’s OK, Zhaohui…we will wait for you by the pond. We will look at the fishes while resting a bit. We’ve been walking for more than three hours.

-Thank you Vic, I appreciate your understanding. Ah Lam, we thank you very much for your help, it’s been a delight to learn from you things I actually never knew. There is no point for you to wait for us. This is the last Garden and we will be out of here in fifteen minutes probably.

-I thank you for the opportunity. You have a good night now! Ah Lam bent from the middle, in a sign of respect towards her teacher and then towards John and Vic. The two men replied identically and soon, the cute girl they had as a guide disappeared into the dusk, as the wonderful Sunday they spent together was preparing to say goodbye and go to sleep as well.

Vic grabbed his friend’s arm and together headed for the pond. John couldn’t help but turn his head back. The wooden kiosk they were crossing was opened all around; It was ingeniously built with wooden blinds at the windows, which on a rainy day could’ve been closed and thus protect the people inside. Zhaohui was already into a lotus position facing the water fall, and in few seconds became a part of the masonry which was surrounding that particular part of the courtyard. This time John didn’t ask himself: “Why is she picking that particular spot from all the options she had? Why this particular Garden? Why does she have to meditate?” During these few days since he stepped onto Chinese soil, he went through so many strange situations, that one more wouldn’t’ve made a difference anyway. He took a sit beside Vic on one of the wooden benches by the pond and deepen his eyes into the water which was taming with fishes; the abundance of aquatic plants provided a perfect playground and habitat for them, a habitat masterly designed and maintained by Suzhou Gardens.

In no time he felt so relaxed and at ease, so happy and detached from this world that his mind completely forgot about last night’s encounter with the neighbors, about his plan to tell Vic and Zhaohui what happened. The eyes of his imagination started wandering again through places he has never been before, through places which were at first sight strange to him, but felt so alive and familiar, so colorful and sweet-scented. “Why do I have the feeling that I know these gardens, that I know this particular one? This is so strange, but it feels so good! It is almost like I have been here before, that I did spend some time here in this garden and that everything is known to me” John shook his head in a sign that he wanted to come back to reality. Vic was not sitting on the bench anymore. He was on his knees by the pond and was making waves in the water, playing with the fishes. Amazingly, the game he started was happily shared by the numerous Koi fishes in the pond and soon two kids joined him in that wave making endeavor. John looked at his friend and smiled…”he has the heart of a kid”

 

Shanghai Sun – The Curse of the General; Chapter 33 (The Neighbors)

An American Executive travels to China to solve the mystery of funds drainage from the company he works for.

Once in Shanghai, he finds himself tangled into a world of mysticism, into a world of traditions going back hundreds of years, into a world of philosophical meanings meant to close cosmological paths and previously set destinies.

Action, romance, drama, humor, History, Geography and Philosophy – they all come together in an attempt to blend the dynamic western way of life onto the rich Chinese culture and uncanny traditions.

 

Chapter 33

The neighbors

Once he reached his floor, he decided to not even look at his neighbors’ door – as he was usually doing it. There was a little problem though: this time, the door was cracked open again. His insatiably curiosity made him look. For the first few minutes, he limited his curiosity to taking a peek inside – as much as the opening of the door allowed him. However, there was not much to see…the place where the large man was doing his meditation was empty, but the white tatami he was using was still in the same place, on the ground. The same unknown to him scent hit his nostrils. The smell was so powerful yet delicate, noble and intriguing that made John push the door open even more. Now he had a better view of the whole living room. As the room was almost dark (just partially lit by few candles), John realized that the layout was similar to his apartment. Soon, he figured out that those burning candles were releasing the smells which for now were completely making his mind forget about the dream, forget about his desire to end the adventure and the investigation. But in the same time these unknown scents, unwillingly were luring him to venture into a territory he did not know, into a land he would rather avoid stepping onto, a land made of quick sands ready to swallow you at the first mistake you were making. He wiped the sweat which was flooding his forehead with his sleeve and decided to enter. First few steps were similar to the steps a cat makes when in a hunt for a mouse…cautious, very slow paced, with large timing intervals between them. Judging by the movements he was making, one would say that John was a professional criminal entering a future murder scene. He was slowly advancing towards the center of the room when the dancing shadows on the walls, magnified by their own reflections into the large window, made him stop. A large and strange thing was hanging against the wall. John couldn’t figure out what was it, but the size of it made him tremble with fear. The lights were dancing like ghosts while the scents in the room were making his sense of smell play mind games on him. His whole attention was now focused on the immense dark spot on the wall. His initial guess was that it was a hunting trophy. However, the playful shadows were enticing his mind to think at mystic scenarios; the doubt and the fear were now encompassing his judgement. All of a sudden, a noise came from the bathroom area. He realized that when he entered the apartment, he ignored a light which was curiously stretching underneath the bathroom door. He turned around. There was somebody in the bathroom and judging by the noise coming out of there, the person was taking a shower. His attention was now completely switched towards that direction. There was so much mystery lurking around: an opened door, a hanging creature on the wall and a person taking a shower! All these, made John grasp for air while still standing in the middle of the living room.

Unexpectedly, the bathroom door opened up. A woman wrapped into a magnificently embroidered silk bath robe was now standing into the door frame, playing with her long black hair. In a swift yet delicate motion, she brought her beautiful flowing hair on one of the shoulders, so most of it was now running down her left shoulder and resting over her left chest. The robe was so light that all her forms were revealed. The roundness of her breasts, the tightness of the waist and the slim shape of her thighs were now playing a magnificent spectacle in front of John’s eyes. With delicate and flowing motions, she continued to strike her hair, apparently in an attempt to make it softer, to make it more appealing and sexier to the viewer. She knew exactly how to tickle John’s imagination. It was the mysterious woman he met on the night when he checked in, the same woman he greatly admired in the restaurant at the breakfast. Even now, when she was barely wearing clothing, John couldn’t help but notice that all her gestures and movements were carefully paced, measured and methodically repeated under a set timing and rhythm. John could see the water running into the shower cabin and he figured out that the woman was preparing to get in. Slowly, she turned around, dropped the robe and entered the cabin enticingly leaving the door open. The water started running down her shoulders and soon a white wave of body shampoo foam (which was magnificently contrasting with her tanned skin), made its way onto the shoulders, then encompassed the hips, kissed the buttocks, and finally circled around the thighs and the legs. It looked like a white snake was trying to wrap her shoulders into his coils and then was working his way down her body slowly grabbing her hips with a vice like grip. The smell of that shampoo, hit John’s nostrils immediately: it was the same captivating scent as the one produced by the candles. The scene was breathtaking and it became even more alluring: the woman turned around and her whole femininity splendor was now fully exposed. John felt how his Adam’s apple was sliding up and down until finally got stuck into a position which betrayed a severe emotional distress. He was now contemplating a piece of art, a charming symbiosis between perfect shapes, skin tan and overall proportions. Her big, black, slanted eyes were looking at John with the eyes of a feline which is monitoring her prey: methodical, focused, intensive, potent and diligent, not leaving anything to the chance or to anything else that could alter the result of the hunt. She was stunning, to say the least! And to make things even worse (for John), she started washing her body with slow and calculated circular motions, from the shoulders then down to her artistically sculptured breasts. The white foamy lotion brought by her skilled hands to the breasts was greatly contrasting with her tanned skin and dark brown nipples, thus providing a spectacle which he was not prepared to watch, a spectacle to which he was not ready to participate, an unexpected show about beauty, perfect shapes and unmatched contrasts.

-She is beautiful, isn’t she, John?

John felt how instantly his spine froze, how his face was tingling from the same cold currents sent by his brain (which was trying to signal that without any doubt is under enormous stress), how all the events of the day were fast tracking now in front of his eyes like shadows, like personages of a play with many actors wandering around without knowing whose line is whose.

He turned around and realized that the man standing behind him was the same individual he saw the first time through the cracked door and then into the restaurant together with the woman who was now showering in front of him. This man was massive…not as tall as John was, but the broad shoulders and the thickness of the arms and the neck made John believe that the man he was facing was or still is a heavy weight judoka or a wrestler or a martial arts guru. To make things even worse, he was standing right below the thing John intuitively assumed it was a hunting trophy. The opened door of the bathroom was allowing enough light to illuminate the creature on the wall…it was indeed the head of a formidably massive hart. The span of the horns must’ve been at least six feet from tip to tip. John’s palms were all sweaty. The man of the house and the trophy were now almost aligned making the scene hilarious – if it wouldn’t have been dramatic. It was almost like the gentleman who entered the room was wearing a hat with two massive antlers. John tried to sketch a smile, but he realized that he was the last person in that room to be in a position to do so. John’s interlocutor moved slowly on the side towards the middle of the living room and lit up the remaining of the candles. Soon, that profound and delicate, yet invasive and alluring smell was making John feel like he was welcomed, feel like he was the expected guest of the house for the Saturday night dinner. The room was now lit up at a level at which John could guess the decorations hanging on the walls…and there was plenty of them! He realized that the room was full of paintings and framed photos. One particular painting drew his attention: it was a fighting scene between two armies. However, the light did not have enough intensity so he couldn’t pick all the details. Nevertheless, something was telling him that he saw that painting somewhere. His investigative mind started right away to process this information, but he couldn’t exactly point in time when he saw the painting…his mind even considered the fact that he has never seen it and maybe it is just his imagination playing games on him right now; imagination based on the many stories he has heard since landing in Shanghai, or maybe even based on the dream he had. His brain was trying to absorb and put in order so much information, so many unusual events, all of them leading to…leading to what? He had a job to finish. Unfortunately his task got tangled and hijacked by this unusual story about late Ming Dynasty and this feud (which has been stretching over so many centuries) getting somehow anchored into his assignment and thus making it so much more difficult to take it to the end.

-Sit down, John! The big fellow in front of him showed John the white tatami on the floor. He realized that the man wanted to have a discussion with him. He hesitated. Something was telling him to stay on guard. His host smiled:

-John…if I wanted to kill you, you would’ve been dead by now. Please, sit!

John took his shoes off and entered the tatami; a deep bow of his interlocutor (a sign of respect and thank you), made him understand that he did the right thing when removing the shoes. Both of them were now standing on the tatami. A slight sign (a stretched hand pointing to the floor), invited John to have a seat. There were no chairs, so he realized that he has to take the well-known lotus position, which he did. A slight and barely perceptible head tilt from the opposite side, let John know that his efforts are appreciated.

John’s attention switched to a particular area of the wall: it was the one which was close to the large glass wall facing Huangpu River. In spite of the obscure lighting, he realized that a weapons collection was hanging on the wall. It wasn’t hard to figure out that few swords, a shield, few lances, a bow, a quiver of arrows and few other shorter swords and long knives actually represented a whole arsenal which must have belonged to a warrior. “So, this guy is a warrior. What if he is just a collector?”

He wanted to ask his interlocutor if those were real weapons but didn’t get that far, as the man in front of him, with calm and deep tonality in his voice dissipated any doubt from his mind:

-Yes, John. They are real…they are very real and they are very sharp.

Latest few words fell like a hammer over John. He took it as a threat: “they are very sharp”. Cold sweat was now again running down his temples, over the cheeks, only to meet at the chin level and finally drip on the tatami in front of him. He didn’t know what to expect from the big fella and most of all, he started believing that the man sitting in the lotus position could read minds…this was troubling him.

All of a sudden, a melodious voice behind him asked a question which made John tremble with excitement:

-Why are you two sitting into the dark? The very next moment, she turned the lights on at the maximum luminosity the switch allowed her. A spectacle of balanced forms revealed themselves underneath the exquisite short pink silk robe. The long black hair was flowing down her right shoulder covering the right breast. However, the robe was so fine, delicate and transparent that John could once again admire her tanned skin which was contrasting so discretely with the color of the vaporous robe. John was trying to keep a straight face and not show his emotions, but one could sense that the up and down motion of his Adam’s apple was a sign of distress and nervousness.

She turned around and headed for the kitchen. Half way she stopped, turned her head, tilted it with a sensual motion nobody expected and from the tips of her lips, with a waggish smile on her face asked:

-Do you like jasmine tea, John? John didn’t expect this sort of question, so he mumbled a “Yes, I do like jasmine tea” which was neither convincing nor cheering.

-Very well, gentlemen…in few minutes I will bring you some tea. This time she discretely slipped into the kitchen leaving the two men once again alone.

John shook his head, thus signaling that he needs to wipe out the image of the gorgeous woman who just stood in front of him. Right away he realized that the man sitting at the other end of the tatami was carefully watching his expressions and reactions to the environment. This made John get into an even more defensive position, calculating every move he was making. The room was now invaded by good lighting and he couldn’t stop but resting once again his eyes on the great weaponry collection on the wall. This couldn’t have passed unobserved by the big fella who was scrutinizing John’s emotions. He slowly got up, headed towards that section of the wall and stretched his left hand towards John, in a sign meant to say: “please come closer”. John hesitated, but his interlocutor insisted. As he was getting closer to the wall, he realized that he was facing a treasure…three stunning swords were placed in the middle of the “exhibition”. The engravings on their scabbards were exquisite to say the least. The materials used for the decorations were gold, silver and few precious gem stones. The background was black, which was making the precious metals shine even more. It was a spectacle of fine art, great taste, exquisite refinement and unmatched craftsmanship! John guessed that the characters depicted were part of the Chinese Mythology as they did not make any sense to him. However, there was a little detail which his trained eye picked up right away: all three of the scabbards had a fairly large hart head (similar to the real one which was displayed on the wall) executed in gold and silver, while the eyes were represented by two superb bright red sapphires each encapsulated into a silver pocket. He was stunned! Flashbacks from that night when he was driving on that dark road in the middle of nowhere back home, kicked in. The eyes of the creatures sculptured on the scabbards were large and goggled, frightening but captivating in the same time thus reminding him of the majestic hart he almost hit that night, a night he would never forget for the rest of his life. Next, he moved his eyes on the handle…yet another piece of artistry! It was most likely blackened forged steel, but the amount of detailing (also in gold and silver) made John whisper from the bottom of his heart: “incredible!”

Slowly he moved his eye sight on the other two swords which were placed above the “master piece”. They were made probably by the same craftsman, as the detailing on the scabbards was similar. However, it was not made into gold and silver but the mythological scenes were identical. The same hart head was cast into the upper guard of the handle on both sides, but this time, it looked like the antlers were “coming out” of the whole scene and were pointing up. John realized that this particular and unusual design had a functional role: to stop the enemy’s blade from reaching the hand and in the same time to trap it between the openings of the antlers. Curiously, he took a look at both swords…the same design was employed by the master sword maker but the engravings were done into a different material on the same black background. In spite of the fact that these two swords were maintained at the same level of quality as the “master sword”, John’s keen eye picked up an element which many would’ve missed: both had some scratches and scuffs on the scabbards and on the handle in spite of the efforts done to hide them. This pointed him to believe that these two swords went through some hardship during their prime.

-I can see that you set your eyes on my swords, John.

-They are beautiful! His sincere exclamation put a smile on the man’s lips. A deep sense of pride was now flooding his entire face. One would realize that the swords were playing a significant role in his life in spite of the fact that they were obsolete into a modern world.

-They belonged to my ancestors going back few hundred years. He slowly grabbed with both his hands the one in the middle and handed it over to John while slightly bowing. It was a moment of great hesitation from John’s side to accept it, but finally he carefully took it into his hands without removing his eyesight from it and involuntarily bowing as well. This gesture came naturally. The politeness of the large fellow he was facing demanded politeness and John’s keen eye and sharp fifth sense picked up the unwritten rule on the fly.

He was now holding a masterpiece of swordsmanship and a symbol of few centuries of rich Imperial Chinese history. “This sword must’ve belonged to a powerful and rich family! The amount of gold, silver and precious gem stones used for engravings as well as the amount of details describing the nobility symbols was definitely out of reach even for noble families unless they belonged to high aristocracy or royalty”.  John didn’t realize, but the little monologue which just came out of his chest, was not quite completely silent. The man who handed the sword to him must’ve heard it or at least part of it, as his smile became larger and a sense of proudness one could’ve read on his tanned face.

-Yes, John. Both of us (I and my sister) belong to one of the greatest aristocratic families during the Ming Dynasty times. We were a family of warriors and we produced great generals.

At the sound of Ming Dynasty, John startled. Also, he couldn’t help but cover his mouth with a gesture signaling great wonder while pointing towards the kitchen. The large fella, nodded: “Yes John, she is my sister”.

John was baffled…in the last ten seconds, he found out that his neighbors are descendants of a high nobility family and that they are brother and sister. His mind just couldn’t comprehend the legerity the woman was employing when showed up in the room, her libertines gestures and the fact that she didn’t have any problem not covering herself when he looked at her showering. His brain was telling him to watch his back, open his eyes and sharpen his hearing. Next question he asked himself was: “Is Tony part of this clan too? How do they relate to each other? Do they work together when they are draining funds from Glenworth? Are they doing this with other companies too?” On top of all the questions he already had, on top of the fact that he was trying to understand the role of Zhaohui in this story, the role played by Vic and Mr. Wang, now he was all of a sudden facing another set of questions and doubts. One more time, the question that was tormenting him since he stepped into China, popped up again: “Why am I involved into this strange story? I had my life back home. How did I get myself dragged into this intricate and complicated string of events?” He realized that it was futile trying to find answers, given the particular situation he was facing.

The coldness of the scabbard and the handle, made him come to reality and redirect his attention to the beauty he was holding. The weapon felt so light in his hands but under the influence of the value this sword was bearing, John wanted to squeeze it so he won’t drop it. His eyes were now scrutinizing every single element of the exquisite precious engravings. The handle was another great piece of artistry: it also had a black background and every groove (meant to hold in place the fingers of the both hands) was coated in silver, making the contrast stunning. But when he moved his eye sight towards the end of the handle, he realized that another element (he missed when the sword was still hanging on the wall), was making this weapon truly unique: a very large green precious stone was buried into the butt of the handle. John didn’t quite understand the significance of that stone being placed at the bottom of the handle, but he realized that this sword must’ve represented more than just a fighting tool. The multitude of colored shades thrown by the giant green pearl were dancing, were playing and marching in the same time into an array of columns and rows one would think it was a military formation.

This deadly beauty was designed and executed the way a composer writes a symphony: first movement was the black background – like a “pianissimo”, the second movement was the great gold and silver engraving – like a “mezzo-forte”, the third movement was that frightening hart head and its red goggled sapphire eyes – like a “fortissimo”, while the fourth movement was represented by the majestic green stone finishing the symphony on a “mezzo-forte” note. Everything about this piece of art was unique, fascinating, mystic and powerful.

John moved his right hand to the handle area…a strange feeling encompassed him, making his face lighten and his whole body recoil switching from a crisp and tensioned state of mind to a more relaxed and at ease tune.

His curiosity did not stop here. Something inside him was asking for more. He was now holding the sword with his right hand by the handle and the left on the scabbard. Slowly, he started drawing the sword. The squish was quiet and low pitched. As the weapon was coming out of its housing, a magnificent blade, shining like a morning rising sun was presenting itself to the viewers. It was another piece of artistry which made John hold his breath. It was so delicate, yet so deadly judging by the sharpness of its dual cutting edge. An inscription running in the middle of it for about a foot in length was probably a motto of the aristocratic house the two hosts belonged to. Nevertheless, at the joint area with the handle, another engraving of the hart head was signaling the fact that the master did not leave anything at the mercy of chance and everything about this sword had a meaning, had a philosophical significance and followed a ritual known by just a handful of people.

-What do you think, John?

-Stunning, to say the least!

-I thank you for your words. This sword has been in my family for many generations. It has been passed along the lineage line from father to son.

-Why is this one different from the other two?

-This one was not used into the battles. It is a ceremonial sword. The other two are war swords, are weapons which have seen many battles and spilled lots of enemy blood on the ground. John felt like asking: “who the enemies were?” but stopped short from placing this question into the conversation. Something was telling him to be cautious on how much he was getting out of his chest and focus on listening.

– I noticed that the war swords are curved a little towards the tip. Why isn’t the ceremonial curved?

-You have a good eye for detail, John. I would’ve been disappointed if you didn’t ask me this question…after few seconds of silence, the large fellow started explaining that the war swords were more effective if they had a curved tip as this will help with slashing during the close combat. The tip was sharp as it was used for piercing while only one of the edges was sharp, as there was no point to have two sharp edges into a man to man fight on the battle field. John was absorbing all the details while having his eyes still at the “master piece”. Eventually, he handed the sword back to his interlocutor. Moving now his eye sight from the swords, he couldn’t help but notice the lances hung on the wall. Their stick was probably seven feet long with an area at one end showing a certain level of weariness. Clearly it was the “handle”, even if it was not quite a handle. The other end, had a metal piece riveted to the stick, which was double edged and was as sharp as it could get. The metal was mirror polished making the light bounce off of it and thus maintaining a certain level of repulsiveness which made John tremble with fear. He was encompassed by an inexplicable feeling of fear and unease and couldn’t quite understand why the black stick with the sharp metal at the end was more frightening than the sword he held into his hands earlier. Ultimately, it was just a piece of wood with a sharp triangle at one end. His intuition was telling him that there is a lot more to it than what he thought.

-I can see that you are now studying my lances. Is there anything in particular you need to know about this weapon? Before he even finished the sentence, he took one from the wall and handed it over to John. It was a moment of great wonder and admiration from John’s side. The lance felt was so light, that he tried not to squeeze it too hard and break it. Many questions popped up into his head and before knowing it, he started asking, so his interlocutor could hear them.

-This is so light, so fragile and so delicate! Why did I feel like it is repulsive? He tried the sharp edges with his thumb…they were razor sharp! How do you defend against swords with this thing? How does it work?

A large smile flourished on the man’s face. He slowly removed the spear from John’s hand and placed it back on the wall.

-This weapon is the most deadly weapon on the battle field if it finds the right man to handle it. You can easily keep two swords away from you while inflicting deadly wounds into other attackers. It is meant for defense, but if you know its true capabilities, you can turn it into an offensive weapon too. I prefer the lance over the sword.

-I am assuming that you can handle both of them equally well.

-I am the descendant of one of the greatest aristocratic families China ever had…remember? His tone was now firm, commanding, filled with that type of proudness which only a great and glorious background can bring to the surface and make some ordinary human being special, noble, or even royal. John was about to ask him: “And who that great aristocratic family was?” when his guest’s sister came out of the kitchen with a small chair (a wooden holder) on which she had a stunning china set. Judging by the clean, crystal like noise made by the cups and the kettle when touching each other and by the fact that his guests belonged to an old aristocratic family, John could only assume that in front of him was laid down a famous tea set made probably from the most expensive porcelain possible. He took a look at the themes on the cups and the kettle…they were stunning to say the least! Everything was painted in a beautiful blue color and the amount of details and the intricacy of the scenes made John grasp for air. The white background was only emphasizing the amount of work the master invested in these cups. The kettle, due to its bigger volume than the cups, was a true representation of what fine taste and true craftsmanship can produce when placed under the skillful hands of a talented ceramicist. The mysterious woman made a sign with both her hands inviting the men to sit. Then she started pouring the tea with calm, calculated and almost like with religious type of movements. Everything was balanced, weighed, studied and rules were followed to the latest detail: the way she was holding the kettle, the perfect imaginary line she followed to fill the cups, the way she presented the cups to the two men, all of these denoted fine knowledge and long training into the hosting science. When she got closer to John to serve him, he couldn’t help but deep inhale the smell of her perfume, a perfume which was now impregnated into her skin and into her hair and was radiating a scent which he was unable to recognize, a scent which was already playing games with his mind. It was powerful yet delicate, it was mysterious yet so tangible! The vaporous pink robe was still reveling the beauty of a tanned skin. A trained eye would immediately realize that she was taking good care of her epidermis as it was shining from the body oils she was using.

After she was done pouring the tea, she deeply bowed the head to the host (her brother) and to John, signaling the fact that she was asking for permission to leave. The large man who was entertaining John up to this moment bowed his head as well, thus reveling his acceptance to her request. John caught the movement on the fly and when the hostess turn her head towards him, he slowly bowed, imitating the gesture of the big fella who was carefully watching every motion his guest was making. A smile came on his face when he saw that John mimicked his ritual and bowed to John in a sign of: “thank you for respecting our traditions”. John replied and from there on, the tension he felt from the first moment he saw his neighbor, just disappeared. He was now encompassed by a strange feeling of acceptance, of neighboring and good faith.

Few minutes passed by; the two men were simply minding their business sipping the wonderful hot liquid from the cups. It looked like they almost forgot about the existence of the other and were in no mood whatsoever to open up a conversation. In spite of the fact that John was looking at his host trying to guess what he was thinking at, his mind was now busy with the image of the woman who just served the tea. “So, both she and her brother belong to the upper aristocratic class and this could have been seen by the exquisite things from the apartment and also by the way they are behaving…it does have something different in it, special, something I am sensing that it does not belong to the ordinary people”

The large fella at the other end, was closely watching John. His eye sight was focused on John’s mimics, on his face, on his shown or hidden emotions thus trying to pierce through an armor which was kept intact quite well until now. It was a chess game between two masters, everyone playing a defensive style in the beginning in an attempt to gather as much information as possible about the opponent’ strategies and tactics. Finally, the host placed the cup on its plate and then the plate on the little wooden stool brought by his sister. John did the same. He realized that the wait is over and the “hostilities” will eventually start.

Shanghai Sun – The Curse of the General; Chapter 30 (The old books are fascinating)

An American Executive travels to China to solve the mystery of funds drainage from the company he works for.

Once in Shanghai, he finds himself tangled into a world of mysticism, into a world of traditions going back hundreds of years, into a world of philosophical meanings meant to close cosmological paths and previously set destinies.

Action, romance, drama, humor, History, Geography and Philosophy – they all come together in an attempt to blend the dynamic western way of life onto the rich Chinese culture and uncanny traditions.

 

Chapter 30

The old books are fascinating

The weather was absolutely gorgeous: sunny and warm while a slight breeze of moisture brought by a mild wind from the East reminded him that the Great River was not far away. Mr. Wang’s last words made him lose some of the confidence he built up before he came to China, made him think again and again if all he was doing was not just a futile exercise, an attempt to go against forces he didn’t know, he wasn’t sure how to deal with, against some synergies that were above his comprehension and his talents. For the first time he felt helpless, he felt like he needed somebody to guide his steps, to show him the right way and the path to follow, for the first time he felt like he was losing the control of the situation. He didn’t realize that he departed a good distance from downtown. He walked for few miles while trying to clear up his mind. The area where he found himself all of a sudden was nothing like the tumultuous and sophisticated downtown. He looked around and all he could see were small Ma and Pa shops, selling everything from: fruits and vegetables to live caged chickens, from souvenirs and pieces of luggage to electronics and sneakers, from shirts and pants to fake brands of purses and colognes. It was something he has never seen before…the vibrant mercantile life of the area where everybody was selling something and the customers were bargaining for every penny in an attempt to strike a deal. In spite of all the negative thoughts he had in his mind after walking out of Wang’s shop, this new episode made him crack a large smile. For a moment, he stopped and looked around…he wanted to absorb this new experience in spite of the fact that he had no idea where he was. Pulled the cellular out of his pocket and started taking snap shots of the street, the stores and the vibrant life of an area he only saw in the movies before. While focusing his phone camera on the nicely colored signs of the stores, something (which immediately captured his whole attention) popped up: it was an antiques store which had the English sign written by hand right below: “Old books”

He startled and without any sort of hesitation rushed into that direction. The store was dark as it was facing the North side of the street. The usual scent of used books and papyrus-es, the dust collected on the book covers, the relative darkness into the room and the thick air filled with the smell of an old, poorly ventilated and poorly maintained room almost made John believe that this was a warehouse. Nobody came to greet him, in spite of the fact that the door chimes were producing a rather loud and quite pleasant noise. A bell was also available on the counter. John pushed the little button and waited for somebody to show up. In the meantime, he decided to take a look at the books on the shelves behind him. They were really old, as the edges of the covers were all worn out and a high degree of usage was shown on the pages John was patiently flipping.

He didn’t realize, but for half an hour he was completely captivated by the books he was looking at. Most of them were old atlases full of nicely colored maps and pictures. In spite of the fact that all the writing was in Chinese, he realized that some of the maps were military maps as formations of soldiers dressed in different uniforms were facing each-others. The colors were fading, but still had some of that initial vivacity and life the artist’s talent expressed through color mixing.

-May I help you, Sir?

John startled as he didn’t expect anybody to be around. The voice of the person was also familiar. He turned and looked at the individual who all of a sudden showed up from nowhere. John was facing a tall and skinny man with two lively and investigative eyes behind some thick lenses. The smiley face and the smart looks of the interlocutor in front of him, made John understand that he was dealing with a highly intelligent and possibly highly educated human being, as the business he was into, did require a certain expertise and a certain level of high level culture knowledge.

-Yes, I apologize first of all for entering and browsing through your books.

-No worries. You can have a look again. Are you looking for something in particular?

John didn’t know how to answer. Initial instinct was to tell the man that he was only looking for some old books, but then he realized that maybe this is the best place to get his hands on the books and atlases he needed to get accustomed to the period he was interested in. His natural instinct was telling him to ask and require what he wanted, but he remembered what Vic told him: “you have to be more patient and move at the same speed everybody else is moving. You cannot rush time and cannot fight traditions here, in China”

Consequently, he became vaguer with his requests, in spite of the fact that he really wanted to go through the whole library and buy everything he thought it may lead him to the bottom of his assignment.

-I am just browsing now through whatever you have in store. I wouldn’t mind if you would tell me something about Medieval China History.

-The Medieval Chinese History is vast and complicated and it is a little different from European. But I can get you for sure something related to Ming Dynasty if you don’t mind.

John startled! “How did he know this is exactly the period I am interested in? Did he talk somehow to Wang? This is so weird!”

-Sure, let’s see what you can show me on this particular period of time. John tried to temper himself and simulate that he is not in any rush or need for help. But the intelligent, investigative eyes behind the glasses picked up the fact that John was holding back his emotions and put up his poker face. A large smile flourished on the man’s face. John realized that he wasn’t able to trick the book seller. At this point, any simulation became futile and John understood that he had to make a choice between playing the game and actually ask for what he really needed.

-What about the last days of the Ming? Do you also have some military maps on this period?

– I have exactly what you need, Sir…but everything is in Chinese. I do not have anything translated.

-That’s quite alright. I will find somebody to translate it into English. Do you have anything related to the life of the General Yuan Chonghuan?

This time the man standing in front of him startled and looked John straight into his eyes. Apparently, it was an unexpected request as the skinny, tall man was fixing John with his eyes sight in a way that would make anybody uncomfortable. John understood that he pinched a sensitive nerve, but with the nonchalance specific to the best spies managed to put up again a poker face, the face of a novice looking for help, directions and guidance. The book seller coughed loudly in an attempt to easy up the atmosphere. He took his glasses off and with a lively motion, wiped them. John’s request made his behavior change, from a calculated and cold attitude to a precipitated and almost out of control behavior. “It is time to draw the line into the sand and figure out if he wants to help”

-I would also like to know if you have anything related to the last day of the Chongzhen Emperor before he committed suicide.

Once again, the man standing in front of him startled and for the second time that day, insistently starred at John. It was clear that a battle was taking place into his head, a battle on: helping or not helping the westerner.

John managed again to keep a straight face, a face of a person who is asking for some books purely from curiosity, not out of a well-orchestrated plan.

Without saying any word, the book seller disappeared again into the back room leaving John standing and scratching his head wondering if this last move of the man wasn’t something completely rude and out of the line. He turned around and opened up again the atlas he was holding – an atlas which was apparently depicting through wonderful colored characters a battle field of the past. One could clearly see the Cavalry on the flanks, the Infantry in square formations in the middle while the Artillery was centrally placed in the front. All the little details shown: the large number of solders so skillfully presented (in spite of the fact that they were shown at a reduced scale), the horses, the auxiliary personnel in the back and the Commander and his guard regiment on a hill, requested a high level of talent and understanding of the military tactics from the artist. By now, John was completely captivated by the fine piece of art he was holding and didn’t realize that the book seller came back and was waiting for him to turn around. A slight cough of the man, made him aware that he returned. John was stunned! The book seller came back with a stack of books! At this point, John was wondering if he really needed all of them, or the businessman in front of him is just trying to make a sale and hit a small jackpot. Also, how is he going to carry all of these? For now, he decided to just play safe.

-Wow! You brought quite a lot of books, Sir!

-You wanted to know about Ming Dynasty and the last days of the Emperor…you find that in these books. Unfortunately you have to find someone to translate. John didn’t know how much he should rely on Zhaohui…the quantity of information in all the books in front of him was immense and there was no way she would be able to translate it all. He was now baffled…to buy or not to buy the stack of probably good information from the man in front of him? While thinking, he realized that he had to buy time, so he pulled a little trick out of his sleeve:

-How much for all these?

-Two thousand RMB…John did a quick math and realized that the price asked for the books was ranging around two hundred eighty five dollars. “Not that bad, keeping in mind that I am getting nine books which apparently are antique. I am sure that they are not originals from that period, but at least I have something I can chew on, something which can get me started in understanding this particular period”

-Very well, Sir! We have a deal! But I only have five hundred RMB on me. I can give you the rest in US Dollars, if this is OK with you.

-US Dollars always good, Sir…a large smile flourished on his face which made John realize that there are good chances he may be gypped. However, even if he learnt something – anything – from these books, anything which could lead him towards the right direction and get to Gang, it meant that it was a good investment. John did a quick math on fifteen hundred RMB divided by the exchange rate and figured out that he has to throw another two hundred twenty dollars from his pocket. He pulled the nice leather wallet from his jeans and handed the money to the book vendor. The face of the man in front of him brightened again at the sight of fresh fifty dollar bills. Apparently it was a good day for him.

-Now, how do I carry all these books to the hotel?

-Don’t worry, Sir. I call taxi. You good customer. I will pay.

-Thank you, but I have to stop by a liquor store so I can buy some drinks.

-No worry, Sir. Driver will wait.

-Fantastic! It was good doing business to you.

-Likewise, Sir! Good doing business with you too.

-Listen…did we meet before? Your voice sounds familiar to me.

-I don’t believe we met, Sir. The short hesitation into his voice (prior to this statement), made John believe that this individual was actually the man standing in the shadow of the side door when for the first time he was taken into Mr. Wang’s office. He took another mental snap shot of the man and stretched his hand out to shake hands. The hand he was shaking was the hand of an intellectual, the hand of a person used to read and write, not of a laborer or any other person doing physical work.

-Let me call a taxi for you, Sir.

-Thank you! One more question though…this book, which I grabbed when I entered…I can see that is a military atlas and it has some military maps in it.

-Yes, Sir. You guessed right. It is a battle field.

-Who is fighting whom? A long pause kicked in and John started wondering if he said something wrong. Everything was so weird in this place, from the very moment he entered the store: the atmosphere, the dust collected everywhere, the guy from the back appearing out of nowhere and the quick deal he made. “Did I step on his toes again? What is wrong with this guy?”

-This is a collection of military maps – copies of course – of the General Wu Sangui. The map you are looking at, is the battle field of the Shanhai Pass (one of the major passes into the Great Wall of China). The forces of Wu Sangui and Li Zicheng before the final battle are shown.

-Wasn’t Li Zicheng the commander of the peasant army which took Beijing?

-Yes he was. General Wu Sangui defeated his armies twice, but the third time he was defeated.

-OK, I would like to buy this one too. How much?

-I am giving it to you as a bonus, Sir. You spent a significant amount of money in my store. You are a good customer.

-Thank you very much. Again, it is a pleasure doing business with you.

-Pleasure is all mine, Sir. Your taxi is waiting for you.

-Wait a minute, I have to stop by a liquor store…

-Driver knows, Sir. He will take you to the closest store near your hotel and wait for you.

-Fantastic!

-If you tell me which Hotel you stay at, I will talk to driver so he can plan his trip. This last statement brought into John’s mind the question Tony Gang asked him when he landed. “Is this guy hand in hand with Tony?” The dilemma grabbed his mind again and his brain started creating scenarios after scenarios on who is working for whom and who would be on his side, rather than on Gang’s side. However, he realized that if he continues like this, he will eventually get paranoiac from anything and will not move forward at all. “This is ridiculous! I am not going to let these mixed sentiments and states of mind capture my focus! I am done! I will only act based on what my guts and my first instincts are telling me!”

-Yes, Sir! This is the Hotel I stay at; John realized that he did not have the jacket. He was always carrying a pen into the chest pocket.

-Do you have a pen I can borrow from you?

-Of course! Here you go, Sir!

John wrote the Hotel on a small piece of scrap paper and handed it over to the merchant.

-Very well, Sir! Let me talk to the driver. Here it is a bag, let’s put the books into it. Careful, it is heavy. Only when grabbing the large bag, John realized how heavy those books were! Each one was a piece of art – one could say – and the thick carton or papyrus covers (most of them covered as well by leather) were making the final product weigh an extra pound or so.

-Ok, thanks again for your help and have a good day!

-You too, Sir. Please let me know what other books you need and I will find them for you.

-That’s for sure. Bye, now!

-Bye, bye!

The cab driver was already instructed on what to do, where to stop and where to take his passenger. John couldn’t wait to start browsing through the books as his curiosity reached high levels and the adrenaline was flowing through his veins. After just five or ten minutes, the driver pulled in front of a liquor store, showing his customer with his index finger that this is the place to which he was told to take him. John got off the car and quickly entered the store. He wanted to get done with shopping for drinks as fast as possible; it was already three o’clock and his desire to browse through the books was so high, in spite of the fact that he couldn’t read Mandarin. However, the books were all richly illustrated which was making his good visual memory feel like a fish in the water. To his surprise, the store was packed with good quality stuff. From European, South American, California, Australia and South African wines, to fine cognacs, scotches and whiskies. He thought that he would just get in and out. But now he had choices on his hand…and the choices were multiple and almost all of them of high quality. After browsing through the store for fifteen minutes, he realized that he had to make a choice! “Common man, think! For sure we will have sea food. So, let’s look for a nice white wine that’s not too dry. Then we will have probably some pork and we will have to switch to red. At the end, for sure we will have some sweets so I will have to get a sweet white as well”

In five minutes, he made up his mind: he bought two bottles of a semi dry, one bottle of sweet white and another bottle of a nice red he discovered into a corner of the main shelf. “Now, what sort of hard liquor are we going to have in the beginning?” After hesitating for few minutes, John decided to buy a nice cognac for Vic and a single malt for them to enjoy at the table. He was very happy…in relatively short time, he managed to get the shopping done. The cab driver stepped on the gas pedal and shortly they found themselves in front of the hotel. John pulled a ten dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to the driver. Apparently this gesture made an impression on the driver, as he carried all John’s stuff to the lobby. The bus boy took over and placed the bag with the books and the one with the alcohol on the trolley and immediately headed for the elevator. John spent another two or three minutes at the Reception asking for mail in his name and for messages. Nothing so far. So he headed for the elevator himself. Once he reached his apartment, he didn’t even consider changing his cloths and getting into a more relaxing attire. He was eager to open up those books he just bought and browse through them, in spite of the fact that he couldn’t read. There were so many great pictures in those pages! One book was of a particular interest to him: the one he was holding in his hands before the book seller showed up…the great picture showing the two armies facing each other and the short story told by the book store owner about the battles fought by General Wu Sangui against the peasant armies of Li Zicheng, started fascinating him. Right away he realized the drama through which the General had to go through. He opened up the Shanhai Pass to the Manchus at the time when he had no other choice. He made a tough choice when decided to side with the Manchus rather than with the peasants of Li Zicheng. And this was the choice that followed and haunted him to the grave. John didn’t realize, that the sun actually set and it was getting late. It was already five thirty! He jumped from the chair and in two minutes he was in the bathroom. It only took him few minutes to shave, take a shower and come out. Without hesitation, he put a pair of dress pants on, some nice casual leather shoes, a lose shirt and a nice vest which thus completed a casual, relaxed, yet well balanced and quite sophisticated attire. He called the Reception to get a cab for him. While leaving his apartment, he just couldn’t help but stopping by his neighbors door. There was no sound whatsoever coming from inside. John was even wondering if they are still occupying the apartment as he hasn’t seen or heard them in a while.