The intruder was carrying something wrapped in bright red paper like a gift, but its elongated shape made my spy’s mind think it could be a gun. Of course, Wang had countless enemies who would be overjoyed to see him dead, and this stranger might well be an assassin. I wondered if he had a friend on the restaurant staff or bribed someone to be allowed in.
Hoping not to be noticed, I stood up and began to walk quietly toward the wall where the bank of light switches was located. I’d prepared for this moment by coming here for dim sum two days earlier and was able to reconnoiter unnoticed among the noisy lunchtime crowd.
Just when I thought that everything was about to go according to my plan, the man with the red package quickly moved toward me. “Camilla, it’s going to be dangerous, leave right now.”
This man was Gao!
I whispered heatedly, “Gao, what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to revenge for Master Lung.”
“But you’ll get killed, Gao. Leave, please, I beg you. Master Lung is a walking dead man already!”
He thrust a piece of paper into my hand. “If I don’t make it, go to this address…”
“But, Gao—”
“I love you, Camilla. Leave now!”
After that, he hurried toward Wang, tearing the paper off the package, which indeed contained a gun.
I dashed over to slap down the master switch and, to create extra alarm, cried out, “Fire, fire!” as I knocked over the two longevity candles.
In an instant the hall was black, followed by sounds of utter chaos—women screaming, children crying, men yelling, dishes shattering. While most were milling around trying to escape, I suspected that some of the honorable guests had turned dishonorable—plundering the table piled high with expensive gifts. Or perhaps groping a few nearby breasts.
I could not tell where Gao was now. Before I had a chance to look for him, there was a loud gun shot, followed by another and another, then a whole fusillade. The guests were screaming and bumping into each other trying to get out. Fortunately, I was close to the back door, so I slid along next to the wall and went out into the night.
Fortunately, Jinying had followed our plan and was waiting in the bulletproof car, with his father propped up on the backseat. There were no police in sight. Perhaps it was assumed that the gunshots were celebratory firecrackers.
Jinying quickly engaged the clutch and the three of us sped away in the now pouring rain. Was the rain auspicious for me or inauspicious for Wang—I hoped it would be both.
But I didn’t dwell much on analyzing whether the rain was auspicious, because I was now preoccupied with Gao, his sudden appearance, but, I feared, his death by gunshot.
Tears rained down my eyes as I muttered, “Gao, will you be all right?”
Jinying turned to look at me. “You all right, Camilla? What did you just say?”
“I’m sad about your father.” This was the best excuse I could think of.
27
I Fare Thee Well
The next day, all newspapers reported how the gangster head’s heavenly party had turned hellish. The lead article by Rainbow Chang read:
Last night was Big Brother Wang’s sixtieth birthday party, but might it also be the day he was sucked back into his mother’s womb?
I missed the party, but I’ve heard the rumors. But who knows which are true?
The climax of the entertainment was a magic trick in which a fish swimming in water instantly became one swimming in black bean sauce—to be enjoyed by Big Brother Wang himself. We might think this magician was the reappearance of our many-times disappearing Shadow. But it was a man—a new entrant on Shanghai’s stage?
However, the real climax came a few minutes later when all the lights went off, followed by gunshots and the frightened guests climbing over each other trying to get out. Some are now hospitalized. I also heard that the man of honor himself has food poisoning from the magic fish—will he now lose his magic? Another rumor has it that, despite all the birthday wishes for his longevity, he is already on his way for his interview with the King of Hell. Wang’s men know the answers, but they’re not talking.
So my question is: Did our Red Demons’ head really have food poisoning, or is he just being poisoned, plain and simple? But by whom?
Wang has many enemies who might have done the dastardly deed. Even some of his dearest friends may wish him an early “retirement” so they can take over the Red Demons’ number one position.
Once again, I was amazed that Rainbow Chang had access to so much inside information. Because she was right—Big Brother Wang was poisoned—by me. I’d visited a notorious herbalist known to provide such things, though for a high price. In case the poison might spread to other parts of the fish, Jinying and I had taken an antidote before the meal.
To prevent the embarrassment—and danger—of Wang dropping dead right in front of us, the herbalist had concocted a poison that would not kill until seven days after it was ingested. So even though Wang was in hospital, and might think it was just the flu or some minor ailment, he was a doomed man.
But even if he didn’t die from my poison, I believed Wang would die of indignation because he had failed to get the seal, and thus all of his rival’s money. Worse, he’d been tricked by a woman, me, someone he’d taught the tricks that were used against him.
So, now I was waiting for the final news, good for me, bad for Wang.
The seal, of course, was never inside the fish’s head but in the hotel’s safe awaiting my return. Together, Shadow and I had planned the “magician has taken the seal, so go after him” episode to create the confusion we needed to make our escape. The inspiration came from the Chinese classic Thirty-Six Stratagems’ “Stir the water to catch the fish” and “Loot the house when it’s burning.” Lung had not really soiled himself; Jinying had made this up as an excuse to get him away from the table. The bodyguard who had gone with them had eaten the same fish and was doubled over vomiting.
Only one event was not in our plan—Gao’s unforeseen appearance. I still didn’t know: Had he fired the shots or had they been directed at him, or both? Had I saved him from execution, only for him to be gunned down by our enemies? This was the third time heaven had thrust Gao and I together, only to cruelly drive us apart. First at the execution ground, then in front of the American Consulate, and now. I knew my future would be with Jinying and our son, Jinjin, and I truly loved Jinying. Yet with Gao, I felt something I had never felt with anyone else, something I might never feel again.
However, I was not ready to accept this quite yet. I resolved that as soon as I had the chance, I would go to the address on the slip of paper Gao had given me. Even if we were not destined to be together, I hoped at least to say a proper good-bye.
Although things went according to plan, it wasn’t an entirely happy ending. Big Brother Wang was even more evil than I’d thought. Yes, this time he did keep his promise to hand Lung back to us. But what came back to us was but a living corpse. Wang must have applied tortures to Lung that no human could endure until his mind simply shut down.
Ironically, both gangster heads, once bitter rivals, would come to the same end.
This made me think of the poem “Lamenting Antiquity”: