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the festival might well have been cancelled next year. But, because it did, there's no chance it won't be held next year. And bigger than ever.’ The apprentice can only shake his head. ‘You're right, I don't understand’ ‘That won't kill you, boy,’ the foreman says. ‘There are things you young people don't need to understand. Just keep doing your job and you'll understand when you reach a certain age.’ ‘That I understand, Shifu,’ the youngster answers. With his chin the foreman points to the two men out in the yard with the Meat God. ‘Those two are fine with manual labour, but I'm going to count on you for what needs to be done with the Wutong Spirit.’ ‘I'll do my best, Shifu, but what if my best isn't good enough and I don't live up to your expectations ? ’ ‘Don't sell yourself short. I'm an excellent judge of people. Four of the five spirits are pretty much ruined, and it's not going to be easy putting them back the way they were. But I've got an old edition of Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, which describes what the five spirits are supposed to look like, though we'll have to make some improvements to keep up with the times. We can't just imitate the old style. Take this Horse Spirit. It looks more equine than human, the foreman says as his hands move around the idol. We need to make it look more human so it won't scare all the women away. But won't other teams also want the job, Shifu ? the concerned young worker asks. Only Nie Liu and Lao Han's gangs, and they're lucky if they can throw together a local earth god. These five spirits are way above their ability.’ ‘Don't underestimate them, Shifu,’ the youngster says. ‘I hear that Nie Liu sent his son to a fine-arts school to study sculpting. When he comes back to take over from his father, we won't be in his league.’ ‘Are you talking about his blockhead son ? A fine-arts school, you say ? He'd be no good even if he'd gone to an art academy. The first requirement for working on religious idols is to have the spirit in you. Without it, no matter how talented you are, you'll never create anything but lumps of clay. But you're right, we must be careful and alert. The world is full of talented people, and who's to say that a master sculptor won't show up some day ? Keep that in mind.’ ‘Thanks, Shifu,’ the youngster says. ‘Now,’ the foreman says, ‘find a way to strike up a friendship with Lao Lan, the Slaughterhouse Village head, since it was his ancestors who built the Wutong Temple. He'll put up most of the money for the refurbishment, especially since word has it that he's recently received something like ten million from overseas. Whoever he wants to repair the idols has the best chance of getting the job.’ ‘Don't you worry, Shifu,’ the youngster says confidently. ‘My sister-in-law is the cousin of his wife, Fan Zhaoxia. I checked — people say that Lao Lan does what his wife tells him.’ The foreman nods appreciatively. Lan Daguan flings his glass to the floor and gets up unsteadily. The two servants rush up and catch him under his arms. ‘You've had too much to drink, sir,’ one of them says. ‘Me ? Too much to drink ? Maybe. You—‘he shrugs his arms to free them from the women's grip and glares at them, ‘go get two women to come sober me up.’ Shall I keep talking, Wise Monk ?

    Three months before Lao Lan's wife died, he and I dealt with two clandestine visits by reporters and were each proud to have managed so successfully.

    The first came disguised as a peasant sheep-seller. With a scrawny old sheep in tow, he mixed in with the crowd of people who had brought animals to sell—cows and sheep on the hoof, pigs in handcarts, dogs on shoulder poles. Why shoulder poles? Try putting a halter on the dogs! The sellers dull the animals’ senses with liquor-laced buns, tie their rear legs together, slip their poles under the ropes and then hoist them onto their shoulders. Since it was market day, the sellers formed a large crowd. Once I'd planned the day's production schedule, I took a walk round the plant with Jiaojiao.

    Our prestige soared in the wake of the contest. Nearly all of the workers we encountered looked at us with respect. As for my defeated combatants, Liu Shengli and Wan Xiaojiang, they nodded and bowed and greeted me as Young Master. Despite their sarcasm, their admiration was genuine. Though Feng Tiehan maintained the restraint he'd displayed during the competition, there