if you're smart, you'll take a longer view. “Good times don't last for ever and flowers only bloom for so long.” A corrupt man like Lao Lan is doomed to self-destruct.’
‘We're not going along with anyone,’ Mother replied. ‘We're the people, no matter who the official. Knock him down if you think you can. It's none of our business.’
Father picked up the bottle, walked out and handed it to Yao Qi: ‘I appreciate the gesture but it's better you take it with you.’
‘Is that all I am in your eyes, Luo Tong?’ asked Yao Qi, bristling. ‘Keep it or I'll smash it right here in front of you.’
‘Don't be like that. I'll keep it then.’ Father saw Yao Qi out to the gate, bottle in hand. ‘Listen to me, Old Yao, and don't kick up a row. You live a good life, what else do you want?’
‘Luo Tong, go enjoy the good life with your wife, but I'm going to do what I must. I'll knock Lao Lan down or my name isn't Yao Qi! You can tell him if you want. Tell him Yao Qi is going to take up the fight against him. I'm not afraid.’
‘I wouldn't do anything as low-down as that,’ Father said.
‘Who knows,’ Yao Qi sneered. ‘It looks to me like you left your balls up in the northeast, my friend.’ Looking down at Father's pants he asked, ‘Does that thing still work?’
POW! 25
Late night. The four carriers lean against the ginkgo tree, chins on their chests, snoring loudly. The lonely female cat emerges from her hole in the tree and transfers the labourer's uneaten meat from the flatbed truck to her home, over and over until it's all safely tucked away. A white mist rises from the ground, blurring and adding a sense of mystery to the red lights of the night market. Three men with burlap sacks, long-handled nets and hammers, skulk out of the darkness, reeking of garlic. A roadside tungsten lamp that has just been turned on is bright enough for me to see their shifty, cowardly eyes. ‘Wise Monk, hurry, the cat-nappers are here!’ He ignores me. I've heard that some of the restaurants have created a special Carnivore Festival dish with cat as its main ingredient to satisfy the refined palates of tourists from the south. Back when I was roaming the city streets at night I spent some time with cat-napper gangs, so as soon as I saw the tools of their trade I knew what they'd come for. I'm embarrassed to admit, Wise Monk, that when I was hard up in the city I threw in my lot with them. I know that city folk spoil their cats worse than their sons and daughters. Unlike ordinary tomcats, these cats seldom leave their comfy confines, except when they're in heat or ready to mate, and then they prowl the streets and alleyways looking for a good time. People in love take leave of reason, and cats in love make tragic mistakes. Back then, Wise Monk, I fell in with three fellows and went out with them at night to lie in wait where the cats tended to congregate. Under cover of hair-raising screeches and caterwauls, we sneaked up on stupid, fat-as-pigs, pampered felines that shuddered at the sight of a mouse as they rubbed up against one another, and the second they coupled they were snagged by the fellow with the net. Then, while the trapped cats struggled, the fellow with the hammer ran up. A few well-placed thwacks and presto! we had two dead cats. The third fellow picked them out and deposited them in the sack I held. We'd slink off then, hugging the walls, heading for the next cat hangout. Our best haul was two bags full, which we sold to a restaurant for four hundred yuan. Since I wasn't a proper member of the team, more the odd-man-out, they only gave me fifty yuan. I blew it on a meal at a restaurant. I went out a second time, but there wasn't a trace of cats at the underground passageway. Since I knew I'd never find them during the day, I waited till nightfall. But the minute I arrived I was arrested by the metropolitan police. Without as much as a ‘how do you do’ they began to give me the full treatment. I denied I was a cat-napper, but one of them pointed to the blood on my shirt, called me a liar