Year of the Golden Dragon (7 page)

Read Year of the Golden Dragon Online

Authors: B.L. Sauder

Tags: #magic, #Chinese mythology, #Chinese horoscope, #good vs evil, #forbidden city, #mixed race, #Chinese-Canadian

BOOK: Year of the Golden Dragon
8.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Hong Mei shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t know anything about any jade. My father only told me I would be
meeting
Black Dragon some day.”

Madam Ching narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be coy. You must know where
part
of Black Dragon’s jade is. Your father wore it for years!”

Hong Mei fought the urge to put her hand into her pocket and hold the stone.
Baba’s jade belonged to Black Dragon?

Sighing heavily and scowling, Madam Ching said, “Perhaps we should contact the authorities and get them to question your mother –”

“No,” Hong Mei said, feeling her temperature rising. “She doesn’t know where the jade is, but –”

Madam Ching smiled very slowly. “But you do, don’t you, Miss Chen?”

Hong Mei felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Her shoulders sagged and she let her head drop.

“Now, now. There’s no need to feel bad,” Madam Ching said as she clapped her hands twice. “You should be excited, young lady. This is an honour!”

The rest of the people at the table slowly rose and filed out of the room. When only she and Hong Mei remained, Madam Ching said, “We have discovered that the other two pieces of Black Dragon’s jade are with the Emperor’s heirs.”

“Other pieces?
Emperor’s
heirs?”

Madam Ching ignored her and continued. “The heirs are on their way to Hong Kong as we speak. All
you
must do is meet them and escort them here to the capital – with their jade, of course. You will fly to Hong Kong immediately.”

Hong Kong?
Hong Mei’s mind reeled.

“To ensure that everything goes as planned, you will travel alone and not discuss this with anyone. I will remain here in Beijing, close to your mother and father.”

Madam Ching tilted her head. The action made Hong Mei look at the woman’s old-fashioned hairstyle more closely than she had before. It looked like one of those wigs women wore in movies about ancient China. Why was she dressed like that? Weren’t people from monasteries supposed to not care about clothes and fancy hairstyles?

“Of course your father is very excited about seeing you again,” Madam Ching went on, “but I cannot allow you to speak with him just yet. It is only my vows to the monastery that causes me to be so strict in this matter.”

Hong Mei’s eyes filled with tears and her mouth twitched.

“If you are a true Chen, you will work with your family’s legendary skills to entice the heirs to come to Beijing. Then, when this is accomplished, the three of you will use your jade as bait – I mean – as a way of convincing Black Dragon to come to the capital. He will be thinking he is coming to retrieve his jade, but we will also have a chance to prove to the world that Chinese dragons really do exist.”

“Why can’t I go and get the other two pieces of jade and bring them back by myself?”

“Because, Miss Chen, that is not the way I wish it to be done. Nor is that the way it has been written. Perhaps your father didn’t have a chance to go through this with you?”

“When do you need to do my blood test?”

“There’s no need. We already know who you are.”

“What if I say no?”

“That’s entirely up to you, Miss Chen, and whether or not you wish to see your father again.” Madam Ching turned and glided toward the door. “It is your destiny, dear. It always has been.”

Hong Mei felt tears flood her eyes. Her whole world was toppling over. How could she have been so stupid?

Madam Ching stopped to look back at Hong Mei. “I’m sorry. It was not my intention to be cruel. You may write a note to your mother saying you have left home ‘to sort some things out’ or something like that. Tell her that it is a surprise and you will return home after the New Year. Your parents are going to be so proud of you!” Madam Ching turned gracefully on her heel. “I’ll leave you alone for a few moments to write your letter. When I return, I will give you more explicit instructions.”

As soon as she left the room, Hong Mei heard the bolt slam on the other side.

She collapsed onto the floor and pulled her body into a tight ball. Why had she responded to that email? Did she really have to do this alone? Why couldn’t her father help her? And did he, wherever he was, still have his second sight?

If he could use it, would he see her here on the ground?

She pulled herself together and stood up, brushing off her clothes. Madam Ching was right. This was her destiny, and Hong Mei knew it.

Chapter 6

East Meets West

Moments after the jet touched down
in Hong Kong, Alex stood up.

“Sit down!” Ryan said, pulling at the hem of Alex’s jacket.

“Why? Nobody else is.”

Alex was right. Everyone was either getting up or already pushing into the aisles to get their bags and duty-free goods from the overhead bins. After such a long flight, passengers just wanted to get off the plane.

Ryan remained seated and looked down at his wrinkled clothes. Before leaving for the airport, he’d put on a crisp white shirt and carefully tucked it into pressed khaki trousers. He wondered why he’d spent so long ironing his clothes. They were a mess now.

After they got their luggage he’d find a washroom and change into the clean shirt he’d packed in his carry-on bag. He hoped that the bathroom at the airport was okay since he also wanted to brush his teeth. That was the one thing that bothered him about travelling. Public washrooms in some countries were pretty bad. Sometimes they had running water but lots of times they didn’t. And they never had toilet paper. If Aunt Grace was with them, it was okay since she was always prepared. Her handbag had everything from menthol-scented tissue to instant hand sanitizer to super-fast-acting antihistamines – just in case someone developed a nasty allergy or got bitten by some weird bug.

Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tin of mints. These were his key to travelling survival. If he couldn’t shower and brush his teeth, he had the backup of breath-freshening candies. He liked these super-strong ones best. Ryan popped one of the powdered peppermints into his mouth. It immediately released its powerful flavour. He had to hand it to the Brits. They totally understood peppermints. They made the best ones around.

He glanced at Alex with his Roots sweatshirt and backward-facing baseball cap. The logo on his cap read: “I am Canadian.”

No kidding. As if everyone won’t be able to tell.

Finally, the doors of the plane opened. Ryan and the rest of his family pushed their way off the plane along with everyone else. Chek Lap Kok airport in Hong Kong was still fairly new and could easily accommodate thousands of travellers. Still, every square metre of the building seemed filled with people. Chinese and foreigners from around the world had descended on the city to celebrate the Lunar New Year.

Newly arrived tourists moved toward a long bank of customs officers. Children and adults alike gawked in delight at the fabulous array of decorations. Giant, bright-red bunches of firecrackers and glowing, bulbous lanterns dangled from the towering ceiling overhead. Intricately carved gold, yellow, red and blue paper animals appeared to float on the air above the newcomers: giant tigers, monkeys, snakes, and other animals of the Chinese zodiac greeted guests.

And more beautiful than any of the others were the enormous, shiny gold dragons, eyes burning electric red, reminding everyone that this – the Year of the Golden Dragon – was what everyone was there to celebrate.

Clang!

“Hey, guys! Do you hear what I hear?” Uncle Peter asked, looking around.

Clang! Clang! Bong!

The sounds of the gongs and cymbals were getting louder.

“There it is! It’s coming this way!” Alex shouted as the bright, rainbow-coloured lion shook and shimmied its way through the crowd. Ryan spied the men’s real legs underneath, dressed in black trousers and slippers.

Clang! Clang! Bong!

The round, dog-like face bobbed up and down, batting its long-lashed eyes at the audience. First, the lion would stretch high into the air, then, shaking its white, furry head, it would crouch down low. The rest of its body swayed and slithered to the sounds of twanging musical instruments and brass gongs.

Ryan couldn’t help smiling as he watched the performance. It had been a long time since they’d seen a Lion Dance. When the lion got to the Wong family, it stopped directly in front of them. The person inside the front of the lion’s costume bent down low, like he was bowing.

Ryan let himself laugh. “I guess it likes us.”

Everyone around them grinned.

Uncle Peter looked toward the customs counter. “C’mon,” he said. “It’s our turn.”

Ryan looked back at the lion as they moved up to the glass booth. Uncle Peter slid the four passports through a narrow metal slot toward the female officer inside.

Ryan felt Alex nudge him and say under his breath, “Check
her
out!” He motioned toward the immigration officer.

Looking at the young woman with long, licorice-black hair, Ryan said quietly, “She’s out of your league. And I’d say she’s a bit old for you.”

Her eyes were cast down at the documents before her. When she looked up through heavy, black-framed glasses, her eyes met Ryan’s. Her pretty face immediately turned scarlet before she quickly looked down again. She let her hair fall forward, shielding her face from him.

She
was
pretty! For once, he and Alex agreed on something. Ryan could still see part of her nose with its delicate dusting of tiny brown freckles. She looked a little like that tv star. Ryan watched the young woman push the unopened passports back toward Uncle Peter and noticed her badly bitten fingernails. He heard Alex whisper up at Uncle Peter. “Isn’t she, like, going to stamp them?”

Uncle Peter said, “I think you forgot to stamp our passports, Miss.”

The officer looked confused.

Uncle Peter tapped on the glass and pointed at the big, round chop and inkpad sitting on the desk in front of her.

“Ah! Right!” the young woman said as she grabbed hold of the stamp. She opened their passports and hastily stamped each one, barely looking at what she was doing.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

She pushed them back toward the family, mumbling, “
Gong-Xi-Fa-Cai!”

Gong-Xi-Fa-Cai?

Ryan saw confusion on Uncle Peter’s face, too, as he mumbled
“Gong-Xi-Fa-Cai”
in response.

“Cool.” Alex said beaming. “People really do speak Chinese here.”

“Yeah,” said Ryan, looking up at Uncle Peter, “but I thought you said they spoke Cantonese here. Wasn’t she speaking Mandarin?”

“Yes. You’re absolutely right,” said Uncle Peter smiling widely. “I guess some of those Mandarin Chinese lessons have paid off. I told you more people would be using Mandarin in Hong Kong now.”

Ryan was disappointed. He’d wanted to use what little Cantonese he remembered speaking with his parents.

He turned around to look back at the immigration officer and saw that she was standing up and leaving the booth. Where was she going? He wished his Chinese, either Cantonese or Mandarin, was better.

Ryan quickly caught up to the rest of his family and heard his Aunt Grace complaining.

“Look at this!” she said. “That girl stamped the wrong page. I knew she didn’t know what she was doing.”

Ryan saw Uncle Peter frown at his wife.

“Well, it’s true!” Aunt Grace said. “No wonder, either. She hardly looked old enough to babysit, let alone have that uniform on!”

Ryan tried to ignore the exaggerated wink Alex made at him.

“What’d I tell you?” Alex asked.

“Oh, be quiet,” Ryan said, moving away from Alex to get closer to Aunt Grace. Ryan put his arm lightly around her shoulders and looked Aunt Grace in the eyes – something he’d finally grown tall enough to do. “Well, Auntie. You always say Chinese people look younger than they really are.”

“Ryan!” Grace said, trying not to smile. “I do not!”

He smiled and said, “Just kidding. I know you don’t think we all look the same either.”

Other books

Dare I? by Kallysten
The Lost Ark by Rain, J.R.
Dominion of the Damned by Bauhaus, Jean Marie
Could This Be Love? by Lee Kilraine
Those Who Feel Nothing by Peter Guttridge
When Wishes Collide by Barbara Freethy
The Chronicles of Riddick by Alan Dean Foster