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Chapter 13

We need to talk

Greeting her older sister, Xiaoqing's annoyed expression did not faze the self-assured Bai. Her Mei Mei did not see the uncomfortable meeting between Bai and the older woman, though it would have confirmed the gossip floating around the town.

"We are blessed, my sweet Mei Mei." Bai moved behind the glass countertop and set a column of burlap bags in a row.

"Are they more potions, my sweet Jie Jie?" Xiaoqing's sparse eyebrows tensed. She rolled her eyes and continued to the front door. A cluster of women waited outside anxious to see the sign spun around. They hoped to purchase herbs recommended by Bai, to revitalize a husband worn from a day of labor in the hot sun.

"Do not fear, my distressed sister." Bai stood behind the counter, amused at Xiaoqing's demeanor. "The true potion is safe with me." Bai pointed a finger at the bag off to the side from the straight column of herbs. "Back to your spot," she laughed as her waving finger caused the pouch to float as it returned to its special place.

"Bai!" Xiaoqing's eyes widened.

"Oh, sister. You know I hate disorder." Her words disrupted by frantic tapping on the door's glass pane. "Impatient women." She snorted, giving birth to a slanted grin. "These cackling hens would be sore for a month should their men fueled by a true mixture act as lustful roosters." Her laugh did not ease her sister's anguish.

"Bai, you have changed. And." Xiaoqing's hand rose showing her palm to Bai. "Do not stop me." Green eyes split down the middle. "The wives outside our door talk of your affair with this foreigner." The young woman's anguish took her power of speech. After several shallow breaths, she continued. "They say you treat him as a fawning mother."

"What do I care what these love-starved females say?" Bai sneered as she spoke.

"Maybe you should older sister that has lost her common sense." Xiaoqing pointed at Bai. "In between giggles when they talk of you two, they make jokes at your expense."

"And what do these empty headed, frustrated housewives say?"

"They talk of bewitching, love potion, spiritual forces," the young woman's voice strained. "And, you use your power like we have nothing to fear." Turning from the increasing drumbeat of knuckles growing on the entry door, the young sister refused to remain silent.

"Ever since you stole that man's heart you no longer show me any love." Her fair skin took on a faded shade of green. "You compromise our existence by needless feats of magic."

Bai rushed to the distraught young woman. Xiaoqing's anger might give the young girl rise to an involuntary transformation.

"Mei Mei, my sweet Mei Mei." Strong arms encircled the dejected sibling. Soft whispers flew from Bai's lips.

"You are so young and inexperienced. You act so mature, yet the heart of a little girl beats in this grown up human body."

"Bai, they call you his mother. They say you are an older woman with a young bull." Xiaoqing's voice strained from her anguish. "They talk of you being afraid of one of them stealing him. That is why you walk him to and from school, as if a child."

Bai's tender touch and words ebb the unwanted alteration of her sister's skin.

"These women talk of what they know nothing of. No one can steal my angel from me." Whispering in her ear, "my Xiaoqing, they see how much he loves me. They see both of us very happy." Looking into her face, Bai smiled. "Is there anything that can make human women more jealous that seeing a happy couple deeply in love?"

Opening the door brought a familiar air to the small shop.

"Sister," Bai whispered before turning to a customer's question. "We will talk later."

Xiaoqing closed her eyes as long laches fluttered. The open door let a new day's sun rush into the shop. "Yes, sister," the green eyed beauty murmured. "We will talk later."

The two women hustled to the needs of the flock of females anxious to acquire stimulants for their husbands' libidos. Sounds of multiple conversations carried on all at once and directed to no one in particular, filled the shop. It is the start of a typical day at Blessed Brew.

Bai explained the differences in various burlap bags lining the glass countertop. Xiaoqing answered questions concerning liquid supplements possessing a mixture of asparagus, avocado and basil. The two women in front of her hung on her every word.

"I can explain our different selection. But I need to know your needs?" She said.

"Mistress Proprietor," the young wife asked. "My husband is so tired after hours in the fields. I want to feed him well before making my feelings known." Married less than six months, the young woman of twenty found her husband's zeal dissipating.

"Do you work at the dairy?" Xiaoqing asked.

"Yes, but by noon I am home and resting." One long thick raven-haired braid flopped over her shoulder. "I feel so guilty. This time of year I swear he has lost weight from the sweat of the day."

Women hoping for a pregnancy would seek employment at a Zhenghe shop or the local dairy. It is thought working the fields directs the energy of a woman to maintaining her strength, not increase of fertility.

"My sister wants a child." A smaller and younger version of the inquisitive customer added. "Her sister-in-law has two boys and she is not yet twenty-three." The information let Xiaoqing know the reason for the young wife's visit.

"Here, my young future mother." Smiling from ear to ear, Xiaoqing gave a bottle to the young woman. "Asparagus gets blood flowing to his sack." The two customers slumped their shoulders in unison. The wife's younger sister could pass for her twin. Their rush of color at Xiaoqing's comment showed their innocent nature.

"Mistress," the wife whispered. "We do not know of these things. Our mother explains men and women do things for children."

"Wow! You country girls are something." Adding a wink to her comment, Xiaoqing put her lips to the young wife's ear. "Here is ground garlic." Handing the embarrassed woman a small plastic jar, "it increases blood flow." Tightening the white cap, "and you know what a shaft full of blood can do?"

"Mistress, I have money enough for just one mixture." The hopeful young woman admitted.

"Here," green eyes sparkled at such naïveté and honesty. "This is a gift from me. It will have him plunging you till that belly is full of baby."

Bowing and handing over a few coins, both young women kept their heads down as they scurried form the shop.

Bai took time from her dealings with a growing group of eager customers to look at the humored expression of her younger sister. Returning to the present task, Bai did not notice the man outside the shop. Xiaoqing occupied herself with separating the coins given for the elixirs. Concentrating on the portrait of Mao on each of the metal currency, she too paid no notice to the tall man staring at her, and then Bai.

A stranger in town, his senses tingled as he walked past the shop. Unkempt black hair stuck outward. His modest dress caused an occasional passerby to assume a migrant for summer work on a tea farm. Keeping his hands down and close to his body, their softness would lead many to question his arrival. The long slim scar running down his left cheek would gather enough attention. Crossing the street, the slim visitor would enjoy sponge cake and tea in the small shop across from Blessed Brew, as good a place as any, to formulate a plan.


Formulating a plan of his own a half a world away, Fahai rested from his prescribed routine. Water supporting lemon wedges his only sustenance.

A deep sigh opened the gates to his mind.

Two hours of this and I still hang in the air like an orphaned leaf.

Fahai's use of the recreation center provided him an open area to polish his skills. A Yin Xing Fo wu qi must master the skill of flight or a challenge to an Immortal would be fatal.

The time of afternoon pray and retrospective thought by the Trappist Brothers gave him a private locale undisturbed and undiscovered.

"I hope no one accidently opens a door." Standing straight with both feet at shoulder width, a series of deep breaths filled the 80X80 foot square room. Small shelves off to the right featured a variety of reading material spouting religious doctrine and histories of various religious figures. A row of thick texts contained articles concerning religious chronicles outlining the changing face of Catholicism. A full shelf below the profuse volumes of historic dogma sat manuscripts dedicated to each spiritual belief practiced throughout the world.

After a brief respite, Fahai stiffened his body. The straining figure possessed overgrown spiked hair, taut strands leaving his scalp with slight curls at the ends.

"Buddha, let your invisible weapon, your hand on earth your," he rose from the shining light-tan slats of wood reminiscent of a basketball court to a height of several feet. "My spirit is yours, my soul is pure." Lifting his hands, he moved a quivering head to gaze upward.

"Buddha," he called to the approaching ceiling. "My trip to Nirvana is blemished by the lust crawling in my veins." With fingers spread, he pushed against the top of the structure. His height now 100 feet from the ground, the invisible weapon of Buddha began a slow twirl. The black t-shirt and matching jeans became blurred as the spinning above the hardwood floor intensified. Pale colored hands and bare feet lost their brilliance against the gale of wind banging the walls of the recreation room.

Outside this supernatural event, returning monks halted as the resonance associated with a cyclone whipping down the path of the Wasach Mountain Range. A furious discharge of air rushed from the slight space between the door frame and the hardwood floor. A monk in a heavy cotton, dark brown robe found himself grabbing the material over his thighs as they curled about his legs, a victim of the dying gale from the other side of the door.

Tossed downward, Fahai landed on the thick mat off to the corner of the recreation room directed by the power of the supernatural tempest. Landing on his right shoulder, he rolled to a standing position. Shaken, and perspired, the fear of the event showed in his expression. Numerous gasps for air sent the muscled chest into a frenzy.

"Brother Fahai? Brother Fahai?" The Abbott passing the collection of curious monks as they murmured and mulled around the disturbance called out again. "Do you need help? Brother Fahai," turning to his disciples, the white haired, pot-marked theologian ordered a quick dispersal.

Fahai struggled to straighten his stride to the door. Looking at the broken exit sign, then the slabs of hard plastic strewn on the floor, Fahai checked for any further damage from his loss of control.

"Father," he said with a weak tone. "It is nothing. It is part of my training." The falsehood did not sit well with the seasoned monk. As Abbott of the compound, he entertained a variety of different holy men. A Muslim Iman spent weeks fasting and praying for universal harmony. This one-time altar boy from New Jersey found his patience wearing thin as more and more questions arose concerning his new tenant.

"Fahai," the stern voice penetrated the door.

Opening the portal with measured movements, Fahai kept his head bowed.

"Brother," a deep sigh from the older man.

"We need to talk."


Note to reader: Special thanks to jaeden 1112 for the review.