Pow!

built differently from ours. Isn't that right, Luo Xiaotong? Do you feel stuffed? Want the doctor to have a look?’

    ‘I'm fine, thank you,’ I said to the doctor. ‘In fact I've never felt better.’

POW! 37

    A nightlong torrential downpour has washed away the vomit of the poison victims. The street looks newly scrubbed and the leaves on the trees oily green. Thanks to the rain, a hole in the temple roof is now as big as a millstone, and through it sunlight pours in. Dozens of rats, flushed out by the water, crouch atop the crumbling remains of clay idols. The woman from last night, the spitting image of Aunty Wild Mule, hasn't shown up and, since I'm hungry, I go ahead and eat the mushrooms growing round the Wise Monk's straw mat. That energizes me, puts a sparkle in my eyes and clears my head. Scenes from my past float up from the recesses of my brain : at a gravesite backed against the mountains and facing the sea — the ideal feng shui — a woman in black sits in front of a marble tombstone. The headstone likeness shows that it is the grave of Lan Daguan's son, and the mole near the woman's mouth tells me that she is the Buddhist nun Shen Yaoyao. There are no tears on her face and no signs of mourning. A subtle fragrance emanates from the bouquet of calla lilies in front of the headstone. A woman walks up lightly behind Lan Daguan, whose eyes are shut and who seems deep in thought. ‘Mr Lan,’ she says softly, ‘Master Huiming passed away last night.’ Lan sighs as if shedding a great burden. ‘Now,’ he says to himself, ‘I am truly worry-free’. He gulps down a glassful of liquor and then says : ‘Have Xiao Qin send for a couple of women.’ ‘Mr — ’ the woman exclaims. ‘Mr what ? I'm going to commemorate his passing with frenzied, unbridled sex ! ’ As he cavorts with wild abandon with two long-legged, slope-shouldered women, the four craftsmen who had built the idol stagger into the yard in front of the Wutong Temple and cry out in alarm when they see the marred face of the rain-ravaged Meat God. The master craftsman rebukes the three younger men for not covering its face with plastic or dressing it in rain cloak and bamboo hat. They hang their heads and accept the tongue-lashing without a word of protest. The two long-legged women kneel on the carpet and plead coquettishly : ‘Be good to us, Patron. Our breasts are Yaoyao's breasts, our legs are Yaoyao's legs, we are Yaoyao's stand-ins, so treat us with tenderness.’ ‘Do you know who Yaoyao was ?’ Lan asks unemotionally. ‘No,’ they reply. ‘All we know is that we can please Patron by pretending to be her. And when Patron is happy, he treats us fondly.’ Lan Daguan reacts with a belly laugh as tears spill from his eyes. Two of the young craftsmen walk up with buckets of clean water while the third has discovered a wire brush. With the foreman in charge, they scrub the paint off the idol. It howls a complaint, and my skin turns itchy and painful. Once the paint has been cleaned off, I see the original colour and grain of the willow tree. ‘We'll paint it again after it dries’ the foreman tells them. ‘Xiaobao, go see Director Yan for the funds. Tell him we'll take the Meat God back and chop it up for kindling if he doesn't come up with the money’ ‘Be careful you don't wind up with a toothache’ warns Shifu, the worker who suffered the night before. ‘The Meat God knows what I'm doing, the foreman says unemotionally. The young man takes off running, hips churning. The foreman walks into the temple to inspect the crumbling Wutong Spirit. His bookish apprentice follows him in as the foreman pats the Horse Spirit on the rump — a piece of clay falls off. ‘This is our meal ticket’ he says. ‘These five spirits will keep us busy for quite some time.’ ‘What worries me, Shifu,’ his disciple says, ‘is that things will change.’ ‘Change how ?’ the foreman asks with a glare. ‘After what happened last night, Shifu, with more than a hundred poisoned, what are the chances that the Carnivore Festival will continue ? If they cancel the festival, there'll be no Meat God Temple and they won't want to refurbish this Wutong Temple. Didn't you hear the lieutenant governor last night when he talked about the Meat God and the Wutong Temples in the same breath ? ’ ‘You've got a point, the foreman says, ‘but, young fellow, there are things in this world you don't understand. If nothing had happened last night,