[color=slategray]The pair piled into the van. [color=tomato]<"An old garbage disposal unit. I know that's the kind of thing you get your kicks from looking at, but this time of night?">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"It just sounded like it would be an interesting call.">[/color] Qing's eyes narrowed. He had deliberately not spoken Eve's name when the job came in. But he still seemed... His eyes suddenly widened. [color=tomato]<"You're unbelievable. I was getting crushed the other day trying to one-hand an air conditioning unit, screaming for you, and you don't hear a thing. But you can pick out a young woman's voice on a phone call from across the other side of the counter?">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"I don't know what you're talking about.">[/color] Qing pulled up short and sudden at some traffic lights, and just stared at his father. The lengthy silence applying almost as much pressure as an air conditioner on a tiring arm. [color=springgreen]<"Those old garbage disposal units. Very interesting.">[/color] Qing didn't take his eyes off the older man. He released the brake and let the van lurch another metre towards the stop line. [color=springgreen]<"Very interesting. Waste lands on rotating plate. Then the design, it basically throws food against the blades in it's own construction until its small enough to filter through the unit. All in that one small motorised contrap--">[/color] Bo Wen held his hands up, gesturing to the size of the device. Qing still hadn't blinked. His face held no humour. He lurched the van further forward again, up to the stop line, adding weight to his silence. Bo Wen stopped talking. The lights turned green and the van passed through the intersection. It drove on, until Qing applied the indicator which ticked on through the now stark silence, as he pulled into the left lane to turn across traffic. [color=springgreen]<"Well, for whatever it's worth, she sounded very nice...">[/color] [color=tomato][b]"I KNEW IT!!!"[/b][/color] Qing exploded in English. He started rhythmically striking the steering wheel. [color=tomato]<"No! No! That's it! We get there, you don't talk! Not one word! In fact--! You don't even speak English!">[/color] He pointed at his father. [color=tomato]"Li phu!"[/color] The all too common phrase came from Qing. [color=tomato]"Absolutely ridiculous!"[/color] He pulled to a stop across the road from the address he received in the text message. Trying to dispel the rage he felt coursing through his body he held at the door before alerting the occupant to his presence. [i]Breathe in.[/i] He knocked. [i]Breathe out.[/i] [hr] [CENTER][sup][h1][center][img]Banner[/img][/center][b][center][color=black] F L O W S T A T E[/color] [color=tomato]F L O W S T A T E[/color][/center] [/b][/h1][/sup][/center] [hr] The pair piled back into the van. This time it was Qing's turn to hear the weighty silence. [color=tomato]<"What?">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"You should have told her you do qigong in the mornings.">[/color] Qing sighed. [color=tomato]<"Why? Why would I do that? Why would she care?">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"Well because of her dancing. It would probably help her get limber.">[/color] [color=tomato]<"I'm sure she's limber enough already.">[/color] He turned the key in the ignition. Indicator on. [color=springgreen]<"I know. I saw you looking.">[/color] Qing froze, his neck had been mid-turn from checking for oncoming traffic before pulling out. His head snapped back to his father. The tips of his ears turned hot. [color=tomato]<"That's not--! I wa--">[/color] He stopped when he saw the older man's toothy grin. [color=tomato]<"Why do I even respond? You're having far too much fun...">[/color] He shook his head and went back to turning his head and concentrating on the road behind. [color=tomato]"Li phu!"[/color] He pulled the van out and after a few turns set the van's course back to Hudson. [color=springgreen]<"I didn't ask before and I should have... Mrs Wing--">[/color] [color=tomato]<"Oh great, back onto Lian again...">[/color] Qing shook his head and hunched over the wheel. He should have left the old man at home. [color=springgreen]<"That's not what I was going to ask about. This man wih the sword... What exactly did Mrs Wing see?">[/color] [color=tomato]"Oh. Ohhh!"[/color] [i]Fair enough, I guess.[/i] [color=tomato]<"I see... She didn't see anything but some regular old kung fu.">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"Really?">[/color] His father was surprised. [color=tomato]<"Yes. This guy with the sword, he's really... really not very good.">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"Well that's good, isn't it? All the sooner one of the heroes of the city should be able to take that sword from him and bring him down.">[/color] Qing's mind returned to the thought of someone with power fantasies seizing the blade, as he did. It chilled him to the bone. You could chew the silence. Bo Wen looked at his son. [color=tomato]<"I think I'll drive past; show you where it happened.">[/color] Bo Wen murmured. Neither in agreement nor disapproval. All signs of the earlier light drizzle were gone, and the lights blurred from the slight haze of the evening as the van motored on. Too late for dinner that night, the pair went through a drive-thru to keep their stomachs from turning monstrous. [color=tomato]<"I'll cook tomorrow.">[/color] The spoken promise, not certain if it was for his own sake or his father's. [color=tomato]<"Should be an earlier night. Only have the drywall job.">[/color] He took a bite through some type of chicken burger. Another non-committal murmur as the elder man ate his own wax-paper wrapped dinner. [color=springgreen]<"I know you don't like it when I say so, but she really did seem like a nice girl.">[/color] Qing sighed and decided to humour him for a few minutes whilst allowing the calories to replenish. [color=tomato]<"Which?">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"You know which.">[/color] Bo Wen replied. [color=tomato]<"No. I don't, Ba. Because I've never heard you refer to [b]ANY[/b] girl, aged between twenty and thirty as [b]ANYTHING[/b] other than 'a nice girl'.">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"Only when they are!">[/color] [color=tomato]<"To you, they all are!" You said that about Carol!">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"Well--">[/color] [color=tomato]<"She shut us down because we had an expired fire blanket! And she's nine years older than I am!">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"Okay... she was a bit [b]less[/b] of a nice girl... but she was still doing her job!">[/color] [color=tomato]<"I picked one up from a hardware store... everything else was compliant. She shut us down for seventy two hours because of the weekend and to get an inspector back in for something I fixed in minutes!">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"You're gonna be a guang gun!">[/color] Qing laughed and replied in English. [color=tomato]"Ha Ha! That term has no power over me in this country old man!"[/color] [color=springgreen]"Well it should! You think I come to this country if I knew son would be guang gun?"[/color] His english breaking heavily to keep up with the social switch in language. [color=tomato]"So you're saying that you would have stayed there and fucked around with the CCP if you had any idea that I'd be a bachelor. Sorry, lă obà, I'm not buying it. And like I said... there's nothing wrong with being single in this country. It's one of those 'Freedoms' you love so much about this place. Freedom of choice. There's no shame. No stigma."[/color] [color=springgreen]"No! Is worse! Bride price is much less here! Often none!"[/color] Bo Wen emphatically replied. [color=tomato]"Geeeeeeeez... Don't say 'Bride Price', say 'Dowry', it sounds like traffick--"[/color] Qing winced away from his father's choice of words. Bo Wen's eyes widened in realisation. [color=springgreen]"Not my fault! Is how word directly translates! You took it to English! Not fair!"[/color] [color=tomato]<"Well, great... now we all feel bad.">[/color] Qing thankfully returned the conversation to Wu, and the focus to eating, as he took a fistful of fries. Qing picked through the fries in his free hand one at a time, whilst pushing the van on at a crawl into the night. [color=tomato]<"It was a back alley. Up near Phillips.">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"You think he might still be there?">[/color] Bo Wen asked, reaching his own hand into the bag for his own fist full of fries. [color=tomato]<"No chance. He was stirring when we left, so he should be long gone. Just a regular side kick. Winded him, sure. But he'd walk it off.">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"Down there?!">[/color] [color=tomato]<"Nah, shouldn't be. Should be up ahead. Said 'Phillips'.">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"Well there was a guy laying back there on top of bags of trash.">[/color] One of Qing's brows raised. [color=tomato]<"Well that at least fits the description. But it wasn't around here... and he was getting up.">[/color] Qing started to wonder if he'd kicked him so hard one of his lungs collapsed on him when he tried to limp away. [i]No... I couldn't have. I didn't kick him that hard, surely. I just.. got him square in the solar plexus.[/i] Still, even as he told himself he couldn't have possibly done the kind of damage to have left the swordsman in that kind of state, after staggering from the alley he left him in, he had circled the block and was approaching the same new alley in question a second time. He pulled the parking brake one, and left the headlights shining towards the prone figure ahead on his bed of garbage. [color=tomato]<"Hold back.">[/color] Qing said. Which did nothing to stop the old man right by his side as they both approached the badly injured man who wasn't moving. [color=springgreen]<"You didn't--?">[/color] [color=tomato]<"Of course I didn't.">[/color] Qing said, realising that this was a different person altogether and trying to hide his relief behind an unconvincing non-chalance. [color=tomato]<"If it was him, where's his sword? This wasn't me.">[/color] [color=springgreen]<"Mount-ain..?">[/color] Bo Wen uttered. Seeming to recognise the figure, but struggling with the names in his memory. [color=tomato]<"What--? That guy's already dead, isn't he? Didn't they have a big thing for him?">[/color] Qing queried. [color=springgreen]<"No. Not Mount-ain. His young fighting friend. What was his name? It's been years...">[/color] Qing didn't have an answer. His father had always followed the exploits of the capes and cowls community far more than he had. He considered them 'an example of the best that the city, and the nation had to offer'. It was him who had suggested he name his business 'Ace of Trades'. Qing went along with it and it worked, because it put him at the front of the phone book, for the last few precious months that people had continued to use phone books. He suspected he still got business out of it from older clientele who had stubbornly refused to throw theirs away. [color=springgreen]<"Little Mount-ain..? No that's not it...">[/color] Bo Wen still grappled with the name. [color=tomato]<"Hill-an?">[/color] Qing offered. [color=springgreen]<"Now don't be absurd... help me get him into the van. He pretty clearly needs medical help...">[/color] [/color]