Chương 23: Laushu

The next day, sunlight spilled over the Windy City again as I walked down the street to Mr. Cheng's. A cold wind whipped through the air, blowing plastic wrappers and crumpled papers from trashcans everywhere, but I found it invigorating. Like an icy slap to the face. And, hey, it was pushing me in the right direction. I arrived at the place- two stories tall and painted brick red. The sign on front had big English letters with Chinese symbols underneath.

Inside was a set of chairs, an aquarium with colorful fish inside, and shelves upon shelves of small clear packages. If you looked closely at them, you could see a lot of dried mushrooms, goji berries, and various flowers or powders. A woman, not Rita, walked through the door next to the shelves, and set her eyes on me.

"Hello, do you have an appointment?" Rita said she would talk to her uncle the night before so he would expect me to come.

"Um, yes. It should be for 12 o'clock? Cass Keene." She looked at a computer screen, scrolling for awhile.

"I'm sorry, I don't see that name. Are you sure you made the appointment?"

"Yes, well- I didn't make an appointment so much as I know Rita, Mr. Cheng's niece, and she said to come at this time to meet him. So here I am." She looked blankly at me.

"Maybe you could ask him?" I scratched behind my ear.

"He should know my name." The woman tapped her fingers on the desk several times, then turned around to walk through the back door. You could hear loud Mandarin being spoken from behind the walls in some kind of terse conversation, then the door opened and a short, slender old man walked out with her following behind him. He wore a white lab coat and rectangle-shaped glasses hanging off of ears that stuck out too far from his bald head. Small dark spots dotted across his face and lines carved deep into his skin.

His leather shoes stopped a few feet from me as he brought a hand to his face, rubbing at his chin.

"Miss Keene?" I raised my hand.

"That's me." Black eyes studied me for a moment, then he smiled and raised his hand to the door.

"Come in, come in." The room he brought me to was small, but somehow cozy. There was a large window letting in light and a houseplant in the corner keeping the air fresh. I sat on one of those long, padded table/bed things that are in all doctor's offices. Mr. Cheng stood against a set of cabinets, and crossed his arms as he looked at me.

"So, my niece has told me that you want to study acupuncture. Have you used it before?" He spoke with a significant Chinese accent, softening all of his 'r's' and overemphasizing his 't's'. The words flowed out of his mouth in a smooth, calming voice which was probably very effective for his patients.

"Actually, no." I shook my head, sticking my hands into the pockets of my jacket.

"I don't really have an interest in poking holes in anyone, much less on myself. Rita told me that you might be able to teach me some self-defense techniques." He peered at me over his glasses, smiling widely.

"She likes to tell stories, that one! I am only an acupuncturist- what would I know about how to fight? You should talk to her; she's the one training at that Thai place." My eyes glanced down.

"I saw it last night. That kind of thing is a bit too much for me." He shook his head, tsking.

"If that's too much, then maybe you should find something easier. Get some bear spray- anyone bothers you, you give them a taste of that, huh?" I looked up at his consoling smile.

"It wasn't too hard for me. I just don't want to kick somebody's head off every time I have to defend myself." The old man pursed his lips, nodding his head from one side to the other.

"Something I do know about self-defense is that you need to have strength and weigh more than a stick! So I'll give you some free advice, eat a good breakfast and walk to school everyday." I raised an eyebrow.

"I do walk to school and eat breakfast- everyday." Air counted as food, according to trees. He squinted his eyes at me.

"You should run then. And whatever you are eating for food is not enough. You need my special red bean porridge and mushroom tea. That will give you the strength you need. It's out front at the counter and I'll give you a ten percent discount out of concern." There was something about his expression: the combination of the polite smile on his face with the studying look in his eye, as if my responses were really answers to a test he was giving. I folded my arms in front of me, looking at him straight in the eye.

"Rita said you were a master of the Dim Mak and that you could teach me. That's what I came here for." His face didn't change from this announcement; it stayed polished as oak. Only one of his scraggly eyebrows raised.

"You say you don't want to harm people, yet you want to learn what is known as 'The Death Touch'?" The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. I swallowed before speaking.

"She said it would only incapacitate someone, leave them unconscious. That's why I want it." He placed his arms onto the top of the counter behind him.

"Tell me, have you ever been in a fight before?" My back straightened and my head raised higher.

"Yes, actually. More than once." His finger raised to point at me.

"Then you know what it's like in the moment. Everything is crazy! Hands are flying, feet are kicking, you can barely see what's right in front of you. It's hard enough to get in a good solid punch without the other person blocking you. Now imagine trying to reach out your fingers to strike a single, tiny point in the neck. You need absolute precision and dexterity to make it successful- like a doctor performing the most delicate of surgeries.

How well do you think that doctor will do when he also has to dodge punches and kicks, huh?" Inwardly, I sighed. Sometimes it would be really nice to just let people know about my superpower already.

"If you're a master at it, then you must know how to do it the right way. I don't care how long it takes me, I just want to learn it." He stayed standing against the cabinet, his eyes watching me closely.

"I never said I was a master, I'm just letting you know what it's supposed to be like. Why it would not be reasonable to learn. You don't have the time or the discipline. Go home, eat more food. You need to train with a fork, not the Dim Mak." He turned to open the door, his back facing me. My hand slammed on the counter.

"Look, I know I'm small but you're not exactly a giant either. I don't want to hurt anyone, but sometimes you have to stop bad people from doing bad things, and I believe you can teach me how to do that without breaking bones or spilling blood." His bald head turned back to look at me with a raised eyebrow. I took my hands off the surface to reveal the two hundred dollars I had been holding there.

"That's all the money I have, but I swear I'll be the best student for you. I'll come everyday after school; I'll wash your cars, paint your fence, sand your floors, whatever you need." Mr. Cheng stepped back to the table, looking down at the money for a moment. His eyes then turned up to me, staring with pursed lips until he finally spoke, the words coming out slow and soft.

"The first thing you should know is that I'm not Mr. Miyagi, and that the movie 'Sidekicks' is infinitely superior to 'The Karate Kid'. Especially for someone like you." His hand moved forward and pushed the money back towards me.

"But we can make a deal. You can come everyday after school to buy some of my red bean porridge. Since today is Sunday, we can do it now." I opened my mouth to protest. But he raised a finger and tutted at me.

"Eat first, then learn. There are over two thousand points across the body and you can't learn them on an empty stomach." My eyes lit up. He was going to teach me the Dim Mak. I wouldn't need tasers, or smoke bombs, or knives, or guns, and I wouldn't need to cut veins or crack skulls. As long as I had my fingers and my powers, no one could stop me. All for the price of a bowl of porridge. Hunger and I were old friends, but I would drop him like a bad habit for Chinese food and magic Kung Fu.

"Thank you. So much. Mr. Cheng, you won't regret this." I got really caught up in the moment and was probably too influenced by karate movies because I ended up bowing to him. He rolled his eyes and ushered me through the door behind him.

"I already do. You're stubborn, argue too much, and listen too little."

"I had to argue or you wouldn't take me," I pointed out. Pretty sure that was what all of those studying looks were about. We stepped down a wood paneled hallway and into a side room with a small kitchen and a round table with a few chairs.

"Still arguing. You are always talking and never hearing. The correct response is: 'Yes, Laushu'." I could have said a lot of things, comparisons made about communist countries and fascist dictators, but none of them seemed like a better idea than, "Yes, Laushu."

"Very good." He placed a silver pot onto the stovetop, turning the dial until a clicking sound started and then a small flame erupted underneath. After opening the fridge, he brought out a metal bowl and poured the contents into the pot. A few minutes passed and then a sweet earthy smell perfumed the air. I stood next to the oven, watching his wrinkled hands stir the simmering red beans with a thin cloud of steam raised above them. The kitchen was tiny, but without a dish out of place or a spot of dirt anywhere.

The total opposite of Gran's and my kitchen, in that respect. Cleaning was probably going to be high up on the- His hand became a blur, there was a sharp pain in my right shoulder, and suddenly my arm went limp like a dead fish.

"First lesson." He raised a finger at me.

"You will do everything with your left hand, starting with eating. You need to use both hands with fluidity and confidence." I held the dead arm up with my left hand, grasping it tightly, shaking it around. Nothing. There was a numb, tingling sensation throughout it like when you've sat on a limb for too long, but there was no movement from the tip of my shoulder all the way down. On the one hand- pun intended- the good news was that Mr. Cheng was a master at this. Hey, I'd take this ability alone.

Take out both of your opponent's arms and you're pretty set to win that fight. If I could learn this for the whole body… I was definitely going to have to refine my morals for world domination. The needle-like tingling was getting stronger, distracting. Mr. Jab was spooning the hot bean paste into a bowl and set it on the table. I sat down, pointing at my cooked noodle arm.

"How long is this going to last, exactly?"

"Eat up. You will be fine in an hour." My left fingers fumbled as they picked up the spoon which seemed pointedly smaller than usual. He clearly had to make this as hard as possible.

"And you couldn't just tell me to use my left hand?" The spoon dipped and trembled as I held it, but I got the red porridge into my mouth before it spilled all over the table. It was mildly sweet with a thick richness to it. I didn't know if I would replace my Frosted Flakes for it, but I wouldn't have to choke it down either.

"One of the best weapons you can have is to understand what your opponent experiences when you fight them. You will understand better how to use it against them." Mr. Cheng watched me clutching at my wobbling utensil.

"Plus, you look very funny and I needed a good laugh today," he said with a throaty chuckle. I sharpened my eyes on him, opening my mouth for verbal combat. But then… he was always testing me on things and the ability to act cool under pressure was probably one of them. He would say some wise fortune cookie thing about how 'a person in anger cannot keep control of themselves or their enemies.' Because, you know, fortune cookies don't give fortunes anymore, just psychological advice.

So I shoved more food into my mouth, then said in a calm, serene voice, "Yes, Laushu." Mr. Cheng grinned, the folds in his tanned skin deepening, then shook his head and tsked.

"Every time I see that you have learned one thing, you show that you still don't know another."

"Like what?" I asked, still chewing on the porridge.

"Like don't talk with your mouth full!"