Kylie Chan: White Tiger

I nodded. ‘Whatever you say.’

He took my elbow and gently led me out, closing the door behind us. He gestured towards the end of the hall. ‘Mr Chen sometimes has…’ He hesitated, searching for the right word. ‘… people come here to learn from him. They stay in two rooms at the end of the hall there. Don’t try to talk to them, they are here to…ah, learn and not socialise. So don’t talk to them, okay?’

I shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

He glowered down at me. ‘I mean it.’

‘I won’t talk to them.’

‘Good.’

He led me back up the hall to the main corridor. ‘Linen closet and powder room on the corner.’ He gestured to the doors on the left, across the hall from the large living room with its twin cream couches and picture windows overlooking the spectacular South side of Hong Kong Island. ‘Mr Chen’s…’ He hesitated again. ‘Study.’

‘Disaster area,’ I said, looking through the open door. He made a soft sound of amusement. ‘I’ve seen some messy offices, Leo, but his absolutely has to win first prize.’

‘I’ll tell him you said that. Dining room next, then the kitchen.’ He took me into the kitchen, past Monica who was cutting up some vegetables on the counter. He led me to the back. ‘Monica’s room’s in the back here. Next to it, the storeroom.’

I went into the storeroom and looked around. Most of the stuff seemed to be poles covered in cloth. An enormous glass jar, easily up to my waist, sat in the corner. It appeared to be full of large black beads, like olives, and had a complicated metal seal. I bent to study it, curious.

‘Don’t touch that!’ Leo grabbed my arm and pulled me away. ‘Don’t ever go near that. If you open it, it could kill you.’ He released my arm. ‘Don’t ever go anywhere near that.’

‘What the hell’s it doing here if it’s toxic?’ I said. ‘Simone could get into it.’

‘She knows better, and now so do you,’ he said. ‘Stay away.’

‘What is it? It looks like preserved fruit.’

‘I think you’ve seen enough.’ He closed the door behind us after we went out of the storeroom. ‘We’ll bring up the rest of your boxes, and then, if you don’t mind, we’ll go through Simone’s schedule. She’s a very busy little girl.’

‘Sure.’

After dropping the boxes in my room, Leo led me into the dining room. It had a round rosewood twelve-seater table and a rosewood side table. A couple of fluid ink paintings adorned the walls.

He went out and came back with a large folder bulging with coloured paper. He thumped it onto the table between us. ‘Thank God you’re handling this now—this schedule is enough to drive anybody crazy.’

He opened the folder and handed me the papers one at a time. ‘Chinese lessons. Violin. Piano.’ He put one paper aside. ‘Not singing any more. You’re here full-time, so no English either.’ He raised a pink piece of paper and studied it, expressionless. ‘Ballet. Damn.’

‘What?’

He put the paper on the table, then ran his hand over his bald head, finally dropping his hand onto the table with a slap. ‘Please don’t be too freaked out by this, Emma.’

‘Freaked out?’

‘Ballet is in Central. You’ve worked out that I’m a bodyguard. Okay. I’ll take you down in the car and wait. You are not to take her anywhere without either me or Mr Chen along. It’s because of who her dad is.’

‘Who is he?’

Leo smiled slightly. ‘Don’t take her on public transport. She must be driven by me or Mr Chen, and one of us must be with her at all times to guard her. I know it sounds strange, but her safety is paramount.’

‘Who’s after her?’

Leo pushed the papers over to me. ‘And that’s all. Oh,’ he said, suddenly remembering, ‘she goes out to Lo Wu on Saturday mornings to ride a pony. Any questions?’

I studied the huge stack of papers on the table. ‘I thought he was paying me well. Now I think he’s not paying me enough.’

‘Don’t worry, as long as one of us is with you, you’ll be perfectly safe.’

‘Tell me, Leo.’

‘Right now, just settle in, get the feel for the job. I’ll tell you more later.’

‘Promise?’

He smiled. ‘Promise. Mr Chen teaches her Wu shu as well—he’ll tell you when they have a session. Drop her off in the training room, come back half an hour later…easy.’

‘What’s Wu shu?’

‘Martial arts. Kung fu. Ask her to show you; she’s really cute.’

‘It’s normal for children to learn off their parents, isn’t it?’

‘If there’s a family tradition, then it’s absolutely expected. He teaches me too.’

‘Mr Chen learnt from his father?’

‘What an interesting idea,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think so.’

‘Leo?’ I tapped on his bedroom door. ‘Come on in, Emma.’

Leo sat at his desk reading a website on his computer. I raised the pile of books. ‘Someone left these on the desk in my room.’

‘Oh.’ He spun in his chair to face me. ‘The last nanny must have left them there. You can have them if you want.’

‘This one looks valuable,’ I said, indicating the large illustrated compendium of Chinese gods. He shrugged. ‘Keep ‘em.’

I shrugged as well. ‘Okay. I’m interested in Chinese mythology, anyway. I go with my friend April when she has festival stuff to do, it’s really interesting.’

That caught his attention. ‘You’re interested in the Chinese gods?’

‘Yeah.’ I raised the books again. ‘This is a good collection. I borrowed some of these from the library before.’

He turned back to his computer. ‘Definitely keep them then. They’ll be useful.’

‘How come all the furniture’s new? Even though there was someone there before?’

‘Just is,’ Leo said.

I shrugged again. ‘Whatever.’

When I returned to my room I put the books on the desk and did an internet search on John Chen. It was a very common name and produced more than a million hits. When I narrowed it with his address, ‘One Black Road, Peak’, I found a news story in the English newspaper, a translation of an article in one of the Chinese tabloids. Apparently Mr Chen’s building was widely considered to be haunted because many people had seen dragons flying around the top floor. The reporter had asked the opinion of a number of local experts in the supernatural. Three said it was because the building was cursed; two said it was because the building had exceptionally good luck; and one said it was the spirit of a dragon that had died when the building was constructed.

I shrugged, and opened the large compendium of Chinese gods. It was a good one; the introduction explained how Chinese mythology was a mishmash of Confucian precepts, Taoist alchemy and Buddhist philosophy. All three religions existed side by side in Chinese society (although Confucianism was widely regarded as a set of social rules rather than a true religion). Confucianism had sets of gods that were rather like saints: deified humans. Buddhism taught reincarnation and karma, and the eternal search for freedom of the soul and attainment of Nirvana; but there were also Buddhist gods who returned to Earth to help people attain Nirvana themselves.

I found Taoism the most interesting. Taoism’s basic principle was similar to Buddhism, in the search for the Tao, or the Way, and attainment of Immortality, something similar to Nirvana. But Taoism also taught a variety of ways to gain Immortality, including physical and elemental alchemy and magic.

I put the book down and returned to unpacking the last of my stuff from the boxes. I didn’t really have much to show for my four years in Hong Kong; I’d never had space to store very much in any of the places I’d lived. But it looked as though my life had taken a turn for the better: a tremendously attractive employer and his daughter, who was a delight to be with.