Chapter 67 The Sentinel from Szechuan
As Luk Yee stepped away from the door of Ming-tsu's lodgings, and headed
north toward the market district, he noticed a squat, compactly-built man of
thirty-five or so leaning against an adjacent house. The man, whose face was
lined as if from years of exposure to the sun, stared at him for a long second,
as if he were trying to make up his mind about something.
When Luk Yee passed him, he sensed that the man had taken a quick step in
his direction and then thought the better of it. By the time he got to the end
of the block, Luk Yee looked back at the stocky man, who was once again leaning
against the house that adjoined Ming-tsu's, and who met his gaze furtively
before looking anxiously in the other direction.
Puzzled by this strange by-play, but unable to make any sense of it,
Luk-Yee headed off in the opposite direction, still hoping to find some news of
his wife.
The thick-set man watched with a troubled expression as Luk-Yee disappeared
around the corner. But then his squarish face lit up with interest as he saw
four familiar figures approaching in a horsecat from the other direction.
He rushed toward the cart excitedly, jostling some passersby roughly as he
did so. "Chiang Chan, Chiang Chan, I just saw him."
Dao was the first to disembark from the cart, followed by the massive
figure of Zheng the Ox, then Lin, the acne-riddled teenager, and lastly the
young leader of the foursome, Chiang Chan, who seemed somewhat distracted.
"Ah, Tai Hwang," Dao began with a leer. "Why the long face? Didn't you get
your money's worth at our table last night? Wasn't the meat as sweet as it is
in Szechuan?"
Tai Hwang grinned crookedly. "Without a doubt, my friend. She was worth
every yuan." For Tai Hwang had been the second man who had come forward to rape
Peony as she lay helplessly on the square table in the Pit, her long slender
legs pulled back over her shoulders and lashed to the Tsingtao Table Spikes.
The stocky farmer from Szechuan had plundered her tender body roughly while his
callused hands, hard from a lifetime of manual labor, had explored the silky
softness of Peony's nubile body with the diligence of a man used to working the
long hours of a Chinese summer. He had delighted in digging his workingman's
nails deep into the soft flesh of her hips as he thrust heavily into her. His
pleasure had been augmented by his partner in the double rape, a wild-eyed thug
he had not known before, who had crushed Peony dark-nippled breasts in his
strong young hands until she had succumbed to his abuse and opened her mouth so
that he might thrust his Scorpion-cock between her lips.
Meanwhile, Chiang Chan had stepped forward, interrupting their vulgar
exchange "Who was it that you just saw, Tai Hwang?"
"It was him, I'm almost sure of it."
"Who, you fool? Stop speaking in riddles."
"Luk Yee. The one I followed the other night from this very house," Tai
Hwang added with a pained expression. "How do you think they knew where he
lived?" he added, indicating the three Scorpions who had visited Luk Yee's house
the night before and taken his wife back to the Black Pagoda where Richard Chan
and Dao had put her through a series of dreadful tortures. "It was I who
followed him home."
"You saw Luk Yee just now? And yet you did not go after him?"
"I am sorry, sir," Tai Whang sputtered nervously. "I started to follow
him. But your father himself ordered me to stay here to make sure that the
woman did not leave. How could I abandon my post?"
"After him, you fool! He may be heading homeward, in which case you know
the way. Lin, Ox go with him! Do not let him escape again." Chiang Chan
issued the orders crisply, as if he had been giving commands all of his life.
As Tai, Lin, and Zheng hurried off, Chiang Chan turned to his sole
remaining companion. "Let's go, my friend. My uncle has sent for Ming-tsu; we
must not disappoint him."
Chiang Chan and Dao strode up the walk and tapped at the door. When no one
answered, Chiang Chan circled around to peek through the slightly parted
curtains in the front window. He was taken aback by the sight of Ming-tsu, her
eyes ablaze with fury. Or was it passion? Or fear?
Chiang Chan signalled to Dao to join him at the window and the two men
looked in, watching Ming-tsu as she continued to scrub the already gleaming
floor in her low-cut chemise.
Dao cupped his hands in front of his chest, as if by some chance Chiang
Chan had somewhow been blind to the sight of Ming-tsu's delicious breasts which
danced playfully against the flimsly neckline of her silken shift as she
scrubbed the floor. One faint horizontal line across Ming-tsu's left breast was
the sole remaining evidence of the marks his father's straight-edge had left a
few days earlier.
Chiang winked at his gap-toothed crony, and returned to the door, knocking
much harder this time.
For this day promised to be one that he would not soon forget ...
