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Authors: Sean Ding

Nen

BOOK: Nen
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ZEDIOGRAM BOOKS

PRESENTS

 

NEN

by

Sean Ding

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEN

Copyright © Sean Ding, 2014. All rights reserved.

Edited by Blong

Cover by Zediogram Books

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by

any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or

information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

 

ISBN: 978-981-09-1222-2 (paperback)

ISBN: 978-981-09-1223-9 (ebook)

 

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases or licensing

enquiries, please contact Zediogram Books at [email protected]

 

Published by Zediogram Books

www.zediogram.com

Email:
[email protected]

 

In this work of fiction, the characters, places and events are either the product

of the author’s imagination or they are used entirely fictitiously. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

 

For my family...

my mentors and heroes

 

PROLOGUE

 

2205 B.C

Ancient China

 

The wounded man limped and hobbled, struggling hard to drag his weak body down a narrow and poorly lit street.

The entire village seemed deserted and it was eerily quiet. Streaks of silver white moonlight descended from the dark and cloudless sky, intermingling with the screaming north wind that moaned and howled erratically along the street.

Every door and window on the houses and shops that lined the street was shut. Most of the doors and windows were either externally decorated with straps of red fabrics or painted over with a crimson tint that reeked of blood.

The wounded man approached a corner hardware shop where shimmering candle lights glimmered out of its oblong-shaped wooden paneled window. Just as he stepped onto the elevated porch at the shop front, the shopkeeper slammed the window shut and bolted it from inside. The wounded man cried out in pain, “Master Wang, help me! Please open the door!”

“Go away!” The shopkeeper’s coarse voice bellowed from the other side of the awfully painted wooden door that was covered with pieces of red fabrics and orange talismans.

A dreadful howl echoed through the air and the wounded man started to lose control of his trembling legs. His relentless pounding on the wooden door was in vain and with tears rolling down his cheeks, he staggered clumsily toward a house right across the street and frantically banged on its bolted door.

“It’s me, Madam Lee, open the goddamn door!” the wounded man wailed. There was no response and after a futile attempt to open the door with his quivering fingers, the wounded man stepped away and stumbled down the main street. He tried knocking on the doors of two more houses along the street but nobody was willing to let him in. The spine-tingling howl drew closer to the wounded man. Suddenly, he tripped and fell spread eagle onto the icy cold pebbled dirt path that formed the main street in the village.

A dark shadow crept slowly towards the wounded man who was trying to sit up. His face turned white after realizing what was right behind him and with all his might, he lunged himself forward and scuttled down the street.

There was a huge mansion known as the Zhou Residence at the end of the street. Believing that Zhou Residence was his last hope of survival, the wounded man dashed forward and thumped frenziedly with his fists at the enormous timber doors before him. Miraculously, the doors opened and an elderly man with silver hair appeared behind the doors. The wounded man dropped into the arms of the elderly man as he let out a sigh of relief.

Holding the wounded man, the elderly man turned around and signaled for assistance, “Quick, I need help!”

Two male servants came forward and they were about to carry the wounded man in when he suddenly twitched violently and screamed in pain. A loud bone crushing sound could be heard followed by a high pitched roar that was unlike anything that the servants had ever heard. Like a paper doll, the wounded man’s body flung straight up towards the door beam above and the great force threw the elderly man and his servants into the courtyard of the mansion. The wounded man’s bloodied body dangled at the top door beam for a few seconds before plummeting to the floor like a sack of potatoes. “Please…help me!” he crawled forward and tried to reach out to the horrified servants. There was a moment of dead silence and then the wounded man was abruptly hauled out of the doors with great force, disappearing into the darkness. His petrifying screams echoed throughout the village on that cold and fateful night.

 

CHAPTER 1

AD 2014

Present Day China

 

Ying, the petite tourist guide was holding up a small yellow flag as she squeezed herself through throngs of people at a famous tourist attraction in rural China-‘The Magnificent Sky Temple’. She was anxiously looking around for a young Singaporean couple who had not returned to the tour bus on time.

With much effort, Ying managed to surpass an unstoppable stream of visitors and she spotted the couple at one of the souvenir stalls outside the renowned temple.


Mr. and Mrs. Tan, we are all waiting for the two of you,” said Ying, putting up an accommodating smile, “Please follow me to the bus. You are late.”

“Sorry, the shops here are just marvelous.” Mr. Kevin Tan said ruefully, “I think that American guy just went to the loo. We aren’t the only ones here.”

“What a day, please go to the bus, sir. I will get Mr. Howard,” Ying said. She continued to push herself forward into the crowd with much reluctance and was exhausted when she arrived at a public toilet situated at the north eastern corner of the temple. Just before she could do anything, a rugged looking African-American man stepped out of the toilet and he grinned at Ying.

My apologies, it’s quite a queue in there,” Howard said, “What’s the population in China again? 900 million?”


It’s 1.34 billon, sir. We gotta go now,” Ying answered with a much relieved expression on her pale face.

“Geez…one restroom is surely not enough for this place,” Howard muttered as he followed Ying back to the tour bus.

 

Howard Smith and Ying boarded the tour bus at last. Some edgy tourists on the bus glared at Howard while he moved his beefy body to his seat.

“Sorry folks. Kept you waiting,” Howard said.

“No worries brother, it’s OK!” Kevin Tan said, grinning. A stout Singaporean man named Paul Lee who was sitting alongside his buddies could not resist the urge and decided to speak up.

“We will be late for lunch and who knows,” Paul said willfully, “All this waiting might delay us from visiting The General’s Tomb.”

Mrs. Tan felt that she was partly at fault and she asked, “We are on schedule aren’t we, Ying?”

“We are still fine, Ma’am. I’m only worried about the weather. The General’s Tomb will be closed if the weather is not good,” Ying took a glance at her watch and continued, “Alright everyone, our next destination is ... Fat Choi Restaurant!”

The famished tourists applauded and cheered as the wheels of the bus started to roll.

 

CHAPTER 2

 

It was ten to noon and the Fat Choi Chinese Restaurant located in the suburban city was bustling with activity. Every table in the restaurant was occupied with hungry patrons who were probably workers from the nearby offices and factories.

Ying’s group of tourists was seated around three gigantic round tables at one corner of the restaurant and there were about six waitresses serving them, including a restaurant supervisor. Each waitress had a task of her own and Paul Lee couldn’t get his eyes off one of the pretty waitresses whose sole responsibility was to refill the customers’ cups with Chinese tea.

For a while, Paul and his buddies - Nelson and Johnny were giggling rather noticeably and it was not hard for any adults to comprehend what they were thinking in their tiny heads.

Across the table, Howard Smith, the hunky African American, was sitting beside Mr. Kevin Tan and his fiancée Sarah Tan. In the minds of many tourists in the group, the three of them had just been formally branded as ‘hardcore stragglers’, an unspoken title given to someone who had one way or another resulted in the delay of the entire tour group for lunch and possibly the next event in their itinerary.

Next to Sarah was Mr. John Chan, a slightly overweight Chinese man who had brought along his wife and their twelve year old daughter, Pauline and eight year old son, Pete to China. A bespectacled Caucasian young man known as Henry Parker and his Indian colleague Sanjay Gupta were sitting at the same table as well. At the adjacent table, Mami Kawai and Kenso Odaka, a young Japanese couple in their twenties, together with other members from the same tour group, were seated alongside Mr. Park Jin Woo and his elder sister, Madam Kim from South Korea.

Nelson, one of Paul’s buddies took a quick glance at the table beside him and muttered, “Look, the Japanese folks in our group are not fighting with the Koreans…rare sight yeah?”

“Shut up you moron,” Paul whispered, “They can hear us.”

“I can hear you loud and clear,” Howard said in a sarcastic tone.

“Mind your own business, it doesn’t concern you.” Nelson retorted in Mandarin, thinking that Howard would not understand.

“Of course, it doesn’t concern me, but I think you are going overboard,” Howard said in perfect Mandarin, “Are you guys from Singapore?”

“Sorry pal, this got nothin’ to do with nationality. We’re all hungry. My buddy is only trying to cheer us up. You speak Chinese?” Paul said.

Howard hesitated for a second and said, “Yeah, in fact I kind of know a few languages.”

“This is fantastic. My Chinese isn’t half as good,” Mr. John Chan interrupted, “Is this your first trip to China? Where’re you from?”

“Nice to meet you, sir. I’m from Washington.” Howard said, holding his tea cup up and smiling.

“Washington? We’ve been to Washington,” Mrs. Chan said, “We have also been to New York, Orlando and LA. Are you working for the US government in Washington?”

“Hahaha..Not every dude from Washington DC works for the government Ma’am. But you have sharp eyes. I used to be a soldier.” Howard said, skipping over the fact that he was not any ordinary soldier but an elite commando from the US Marine Corps for seven years of his life.

“Hey, we’re some kind of part-time soldiers too,” said Paul, who had been listening attentively, “The three of us met in the Singapore Army during our Reservist training.”

“Yes, I heard about your reserve soldiers,” Howard said, “I was in Singapore a couple of times during my service. One of the most beautiful cities I’ve seen.”

“You can come to our house, we just upgraded to landed property.” young Pauline Chan blurted out.

“Pauline,” Mrs. Chan glared at Pauline and she nudged her gently on the shoulder.

“Sure I will young lady.” Howard answered with a smile.

Pauline’s face lightened up and she gave a defiant wink at her mother in return.

The waitresses began to serve up several dishes of local Chinese delicacies which comprised steamed fish, braised duck meat, broccoli garnished with garlic broth, chicken feet in sweet sauce and a large bowl of mushroom soup. Everyone at the table was eager to tuck in while the food was being served.

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