One amongst them would be Mr. Shu, a con artist and criminal. Shrewd, meticulous and very charming, he rubbed shoulders with the powerful and wrapped the rich around his little finger. He wore a rather shabby brown suit and had a thin face adorned with a rather pathetic set of whiskers; only his sparkling eyes redeemed him. They made him, in fact. Those and his nimble fingers. But at the time of the radio announcement, these had been rendered a little redundant, for his hands were behind his back, handcuffed at the wrists. Police officer Niu had happened upon Mr. Shu selling counterfeit Rolexes down an alleyway, and in doing so, had finally (unwittingly) caught one of the city’s most notorious crooks.
Officer Niu bundled Shu into the back of his police car and, installing himself in the driver’s seat, blew a great puff of air out through his nostrils. Whilst his boulder-like physique was certainly intimidating, he had a kind, bovine face, and a nature to match. Though he was an earnest, hard-working man, his placidity often lead to him being taken advantage of. Mr Shu knew this all too well. The advantage, he thought, was his for the taking. And it was at that moment that the Jade Emperor’s broadcast began to blare out from the car radio. Both men heard it. Neither could ignore it. The invitation seemed to have spoken to them individually, personally, so great was their desire, at that moment in time, to join the Jade Emperor for dinner, though for very different reasons. “Did…. Did you hear that?” ventured Niu, slightly apprehensively, as though wishing not to display any interest. “Hear what? The radio? Wasn’t listening,” responded Mr Shu, slyly. Officer Niu said nothing. He just quietly flicked a switch and accelerated wildly into the middle of the street, lights flashing, sirens blaring. Shu’s head was slammed into his headrest by the sudden burst of speed. He grimaced, but only to hide his smile. Two men, one hungry for power and the other for dinner, were soon to have their hunger sated.
When Master Hu heard the broadcast, he was running along the riverbank, sweat dripping from every pore. He was a former Kung Fu champion, retired now, but still as strong as he had ever been in his prime. Swift as a tiger, he padded deftly over cracked pavements and dodged street hawkers. His niece had recently purchased him a small radio-walkman, and he liked to catch up on the daily news as he took his evening jog. He heard the announcement and smiled. He knew exactly where ‘The Jade Emperor’ lived; he used to teach him Kung Fu every Thursday morning. As the sun set over Shengxiao, he picked up his pace a little and veered off his path. He would pay his old student a visit, he thought, and he crossed the road, narrowly avoiding a speeding police car.
No comments:
Post a Comment