Hello there,

well, it took me some time to write this but here it is... finally. I hope you enjoy it ;)

Greetings, Eisteufel

Chapter IV

Encounter in the Shadows

The vicelike grip around my neck painfully intensified when razorblade sharp fingernails were digging itself deeper and deeper into the sensitive skin of my throat, left dark red scratches and bruises behind. Slowly but surely my panicking mind realised I was suffocating. The world surrounding me started to spin around like a carousel, got more and more hazy and indistinct with every elapsed second, while I desperately tried to fight for sufficient air.

My eyes snapped open when the pressure got even more intense, made me pant incoherently, greedily gasping for air. Like I was looking through a fogged up window I saw nothing else but his eyes. Deep, black pools staring down at me in such a cold and merciless manner, that there was no question about his intentions left at all. When my mind started to faint out, these charcoal eyes slowly got dyed in a dim shade of greyish white.

Do something Lau! You'll die here! Fight back! Do anything!

My fingers felt so terribly numb and heavy as if they were wrapped up in thick, woollen cloth while they were hectically browsing through my pocket in oder to grasp the handle.

Got it!

My hand fulfilled movements on its own, like someone was pulling the strings. The world was about to be smothered completely by soothing white, I only marginally recognized the contours of my opposite anymore.

"Unhand me!"

The sound of my own muffled and raspy voice, that didn't sound like me anymore at all, startled me for a second, when I had finally managed to pull the little knife I usually used to cut my lunch into pieces from my pocket. The blade faintly reflected the little light that had found its way deep into the internal parts of the ship. Desperately my trembling hand was holding the sharp edge against the throat of my attacker.

"I said let go of me you damn traitor! Now!" I repeated in a failed attempt to yell at him but nothing but a weak, husky whispering could be heard. The blade of the knife was anything but sharp but I desperately hoped that he wouldn't recognize it and that the simple fact that it was a knife would suffice to stop him.

He actually paused when his black eyes shortly scanned the knife and its blade pressing itself against his chin. The pressure around my throat lessened slightly and left me a little more space to breath. But the fingers did not withdraw. While the world around me slowly gained back its usual colours my opposite simply kept staring down at me, with this piercing onyx gaze of his.

"My my," he eventually chuckled when he finally released me with a small shrug of his slender shoulders. My legs gave in without prior warning so I dumbfounded stumbled against the wall behind me - breathing heavily and incoherently, stoically ignoring the strange pain throbbing inside my chest.

Don't faint! Just don't faint! a little voice inside my head almost screamed in panic when for a second everything faded to black. Fighting the overcoming unconsciousness I forced myself to keep looking at the stranger without batting an eyelash, although I felt the sickening feeling of an upcoming nausea creeping up my throat. My fingers were still clinging to the handle of my blunt knife like it was the only savour in a vast and wild ocean.

"You've got a pretty good look in those eyes," the baritone voice suddenly disrupted the silence. The rustling sound of cloth accompanied every of his movements when he crossed the arms in front of his chest and hid this hands within the sleeves before he walked at a leisure pace towards the ladder to the exit. With a swift elegant turn he sat down on the third rung and crossed his legs, still eyeing me like a vicious vulture.

"I like this look. It shows no fear."

The painful pulsing of my own blood behind my temples slowly ceased but I was still convinced that I must have had misheard his last words. He simply snickered.

"Trying to threat me with this blunt bread knife of yours… you sure got courage," the sneer widened into a full-blown grin which I didn't like at all. "It's not that I mislike that."

"Lucky you," I snapped but realized the same moment that my voice had cracked, making me sound rather pitiful.

"Come on, sit down boy!" he suddenly demanded while putting his left hand right onto the space next to him in silent invitation. I didn't move a muscle.

"Why would I?" a strained hiss escaped my mouth. "A minute ago you wanted to kill me and know you want me to sit down next to you? Why?" I inquired constrained and instead of sitting down next to him I simply crossed my arms in front of my chest defensively. I was still trying to clam down my racing heartbeat which felt like it would break my ribs any second. The whole situation seemed so outright weird that my mind and already aching head came to terms with it. But although I didn't have a clue what this whole situation was all about I knew one damn thing for sure: That I didn't want to get any closer to this man and I didn't want to fathom the possible further armory hidden under the copious amounts of silk he was wearing either. Involuntarily my grip around the wooden handle of my knife intensified until my knuckles got white and ridgid. Meanwhile my opposite just kept on his usual smiling as if it was above all more of a habit than a real sign of amusement. His hand tapped onto the wooden rung again.

"Talk. A simple little chit-chat lightens the heart, don't you think?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Well, that's a shame because I'm afraid I won't leave without having a word with you, my dear. I've got all the time in the world. You too?" his suddenly soft voice replied in some kind of sing-song as if it was a funny little nursery rhyme he was telling me. I had to swallow hard to clear my throat from something that felt decisively like steelwool. A deep sigh escaped my dry mouth before I reluctantly forced my legs to move. There was no real choice considering the fact that he was in fact blocking the only exit to this gloomy cargo department.

As far away as possible without falling from the small rung I huddled up next to him, still holding on tight to my knife when at the same time I cringed involuntarily and wrapped my arms around me to muffle the vicious rumbling of my stomach.

"Hungry?"

He asked even though it wasn't really a question, it was more a plain statement. Looking down at me he was eyeing every of my movements with an unreadable expression on his angular face. Smiling this fine little smile I had already seen when he was greeting the Englishmen, he started to fiddle within his sleeves. Out of nowhere he triumphantly pulled an apple which must have been hidden somewhere in the depths of one of his oversized sleeves. It almost looked like it was some kind of magic trick. The cheeky smile widened and revealed surprisingly white teeth when he offered me the apple his bony fingers were holding.

Although I thought I was way to exhausted to form any kind of facial expression, I must have looked appalled or at least anxious because after a short look into my face he burst out into a full-blown, baritone laughter.

"Just take it, boy! I didn't have the time to poison it!"

He put the apple onto the ladder right between us before he turned his head away again. I was watching the so innocent appearing apple sceptically. The thought to take food from someone who wanted to kill me with his bare hands only minutes ago made my flesh crawl. If only my damn stomach would stop growling like a wolf pinched with hunger…

Damn it!

I sighed.

Stomach beats brain one to nothing. If the Gods want you to die than that's how it should be!

Greedily grabbing the apple I just started to realise the real extent of my hunger while eating it. Chewing absently on one bit I let my gaze roam through the cargo hold. From above here the little opium beads just looked a little like precious, black pearls, which were thoughtlessly scattered over the floor.

"I would do it differently, if I were you," I stated dryly, still nibbling at my apple, still staring at the opium beads.

Eyeing him from one corner of my eye I could see how one of his thin eyebrows was lifted slightly.

"Go on."

"Teabags."

I shrugged my shoulders, chewing on the sweet fruit.

"Put the opium into teabags."

My saying earned me an even more surprised look from aside but he didn't interrupt me.

"If you mingle the opium beads with cheap tea and put it into teabags together, nobody will realize what the real content is. Even if something like that will happen again," I added lowly while pointing with a short nod of my chin towards the vast number of little beads slowly wobbling across the floor with any slight movement the ship made.

Just how stupid are you, Lau? The voice inside my head already scolded me and I just wanted to bit my flippant tongue when my encounter suddenly burst out into the loudest and heartiest laugher I had ever heard in my entire life. His whole body was shaken by the laughs, he had to dry the tears running down his cheeks with his wide sleeves.

"Sneaky little boy," he giggled between the intervals of the laughter before he finally managed to get a hold on himself again. Still holding his stomach with his left arm he harrumphed dryly when he swiped away the last few remaining tears as if nothing had happened.

"There is more to you than the eye can see, am I'm right?" he asked enigmatically.

I didn't know what to answer to this strange kind of question at all so I decided to better keep silent as a precaution. For my taste I had already said way too much. Though he was now friendly and almost easy-going I just didn't need another assault with whatever weapon he was hiding within his sleeves.

"I wonder if I should feel appalled by the fact that I didn't think about this possibility myself?" he mused, while curving the overly long fingernail of his index finger around his mouth's corner like he was in deeply lost in thoughts.

"Do you, by any chance, fancy a little conversation?" he finally asked, still scratching his chin without even looking at me.

"Aren't we having a conversation right now?"

He was grinning cryptically when his head turned towards me again.

"Yes my dear but I thought about a conversation in a little more private setting. For example at dinner at my place."

I instantaneously choked on the last bit of apple in my mouth, resulting in a dry cough that made my body tremble. But the man next to me didn't seem to care about that at all. In a conversational tone he simple continued:

"Because you and I share one rather important characteristic and that's the reason why I'd really like to invite you to a little snack. Your stomach would be very grateful too, you know?" he teased when despite the almost eaten apple the muffled sound of my growling stomach could still clearly be heard.

A more than bad feeling got hold over me. A really, really bad feeling… but the food he was offering was just too tempting…

"Which characteristic do you mean anyway?" was my defiantly snapped counter question. I needed more time to finally decide.

The ends of the thin moustache twitched. I couldn't tell if that was a good or a bad sign. To me it appeared like the unsuccessful try to bite back a malicious sneer.

"Your hate of the English that is," he answered while his hands carried out a condescending gesture as if he wanted to wipe away something rather dirty and disgusting.

"Sure," I answered with just barely concealed sarcasm. "And that's because you carry on trade with them. Because you hate them so very much. Of course."

"That's actually the case my dear young friend."

"I'm not your friend."

"Well, you should reconsider it," the strange man sighed slightly the moment he got onto his feet again, causing the amounts of silk to shimmer magnificently in the thin rays of sunlight.

"I don't actually want to take means to make you… but if you're intending to stay as stubborn as you are right now I could fathom myself telling your warden that you damaged one of my precious goods and afterwards tried to threat me with your knife when I caught you in the act. Who do you think he will listen to?"

"That's blackmail!"

My weak scream echoed from the walls and faded away.

"Oh please…" he lifted his arms in a supposed to appear innocent gesture. "Blackmail is such a rude word, don't you think? I'd rather call it a well-meant advice."

With a short hitch of his sleeve he was pointing towards the exit.

"Up you go."

With the worst feeling of discomfort I had ever experienced in my entire life I carefully went up the ladder. The sunlight dazzled me. After the long time under deck it appeared so blazingly bright, it hurt my eyes. Shielding them with my left arm I blindly stumbled towards the direction of the rail and the landing plank.

"Lau! For heaven's sake! Lau!"

I rolled my eyes unwittingly. Even without taking a closer look at the person yelling at me I knew this damn voice just all too well.

"Where the hell have you been?" the chubby warden with the always dark, red face – if it was due to the heat or because of his apparently never-ceasing anger I would possibly be never able to tell - was shouting at me from the pier as soon as I had appeared at the ship's rail. He waved his short arms in wild gestures and his baldness shimmered sweaty and reflected the sunlight. Just for how long had we been under deck?

"There's work to do, you lazy, little rat from the gutter!" he continued his scolding but suddenly his movements froze. There was a change in his usual choleric behaviour when his eyes spotted the impressive man behind me who stepped closer to the rail now. I bit back a contented smile when I saw the damn slave driver stumbling on his words immediately.

"Oh… Sir, I'm… I'm so sorry for disturbing you, I was just giving instructions to this good-for-nothing son of a-"

With just one short, swift movement of one his wide sleeves my new encounter cut him off, shooed him away like he was nothing but an annoying fly.

"So your name is Lau," he stated casually, while he put one of his bony hands onto my shoulder, thereby pushing me steadily down the plank.

"Yes… it's Lau," I mumbled tonelessly when I stumbled over my own feet and struggled not to fall from the steep and slippery wooden board. My legs still felt rather rigid and like the limbs of a puppet whose strings had been cut.

"Zhuang Lau," I added quickly when I reached the pier with a deep sigh of relief but knees still rather wobbly. At least I had a last name to tell him. Most of the children living in the streets didn't even have a first name they could claim their own – they just invented one.

The faint smile that seemed to be permanently engraved onto his clear cut features spread into a wide grin as he alighted on the slippery stones of the landing stage as well.

Still pushing me forwards with his right hand, he started to curve the overly long fingernail of his left index finger around his mouth's corners again before he absently twirled the ends of his thin beard.

"Zhuang you say?" he mumbled when he gave the driver of the rickshaw waiting for him a small sign.

"Like the famous philosopher Zhuangzi?"

He suddenly sounded interested.

The tall and tanned, haggard man driving the rickshaw made room for us to enter the little carriage.

"I don't know," I admitted evenly while I was hiking my shoulders in apology, eyeing the rickshaw with a strange feeling of ashamed uncertainty rising inside my stomach. It would be my first time driving in one and I had always pitied the poor men who had to carry their heavy, filthily rich passengers throughout the entire city. However, my new encounter didn't seem to care about such things at all, already way too used to be driven around by others.

With elegant movements he entered the rickshaw before crossing his legs in anticipation like he did on the ladder, while looking down at my in a silent yet a little inpatient invitation. Reluctantly I climbed up the slightly shaky vehicle.

"So you never read his works?" he inquired further as if he was talking about the weather when the rickshaw was suddenly and rather abruptly brought into a more upright position. My fingernails were digging into the velvet cloth of the seats as the driver lifted the handle and with quick small steps faded into the busy traffic of Nanjing-road.

Slowly I shook my head in ashamed refusal. The strange feeling inside my stomach intensified, expanded into a nasty, burning pain and I could literally feel how my cheeks turned red. I had never heard of the man he was talking about and with whom I obviously shared the same family name with before. I had no idea at all but that wasn't the point that made me feel so terribly ordinary.

A pleasantly fresh breeze from the sea cooled my burning cheeks a little while we moved forwards quickly. I'd never imagined how fast one could drive by rickshaw. Curiously I turned my head towards my companion, facing this strange, influential man's profile with ill-concealed interest. He gazed absently into the azure sky like deeply in thoughts. His eyelids were almost completely closed, lazily he was enjoying the wind and the sun on his pale face which gave testimony to the fact that he didn't spent most of his time outside, before he suddenly turned his dark gaze towards me without any prior warning. Deep, almost black eyes – quite similar to the black opium beads – required an answer. A thin eyebrow was raised in anticipation.

A low sigh escaped my dry lips when the carriage headed for one of the more noble quarters of the city but I only marginally realised it.

"I can't read," my raspy voice admitted lowly.

The black eyebrow was shortly lifted a little higher, the faint smile plastered on his face still in place.

"Well Zhuangzi Lau," he made a sweeping gesture with his wide sleeves as if he wanted to embrace the whole word with them. "That was rather predictable but it still is a shame. We should discuss this point further as soon as we are inside."

"Inside?" I repeated his last word dumbfounded when a short jolt made my body slip forward.

With a sudden hitch the rickshaw came to a stand and I stared open mouthed at the great entrance portal towering in front of us. Shaped in the form of an ancient temple gate it was simply impressive, two wooden dragons crowned the pagoda like guardians, the slightly flaked off leaf gold shimmered dimly in the sunlight.

There was this warm hand on my shoulder again, gently pushing me out of the carriage.

"We should do something about it, don't you think?"

Too taken aback to answer I simply nodded vaguely. What could he of all people do about my illiteracy?

"Do you fancy any particular kind of tea, Lau?" my host continued to ask airily when we had gotten out of the rickshaw and walked at a slowly pace towards an impressive looking front door made of dark, heavy wood, adored with little ornaments which turned out to be dancing dragons on closer inspection. I just shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea. The stuff I usually drank at one of the little taverns down there at the docks was nothing else but coloured water. With its undistinguishable muddy colour and its non-existent taste or flavour it probably couldn't even be called tea at all.

"No, anything is fine," I replied constrained, fighting the upcoming desire to just turn around and run as fast and far away as possible when unseen servants opened the door from the inside as if by an invisible hand.

What on earth have you gotten yourself into?

See you next week with the revelation who the strange man really is ^.^