Chinese Cinderella and the Secret Dragon Society Read Online Free Page B

develops even if a thousand miles apart But should yuan fen be absent between two individuals They will remain strangers despite sitting face to face.‘Here! Dry your tears. Take a deep breath and tell us your story.’
    So I told Grandma Wu and David about the quarrel with my stepmother, and my father’s anger when I called her ‘his New Woman’. I had never revealed my painful family situation to anyone before and felt uneasy discussing it with two people I had just met. ‘Now I have nowhere to go,’ I said, hanging my head.
    Grandma Wu and David were silent at first. Then Grandma Wu gently lifted my face and said, ‘Your aunt’s godmother Liu Nai-Nai, Grandma Liu, and I lived across the street from each other in Nan Tian when we were children! My son and I still own that house. We’ve been friends for more than fifty years. She taught everyone on the island how to swim, including my son and your aunt. I remember little Ye Jia-ming well. She and my son used to build sandcastles on the beach hour after hour. In those days, she wore pigtails and liked to draw pictures on the sand with a stick!’
    As she spoke, a thought struck me. ‘My aunt went to Nan Tian with a friend whom I met yesterday. His name is CY Wu. Is he your son?’
    ‘Yes! My son has wanted to marry your aunt Ye Jia-ming all his life. Unfortunately, your grandfather had promised her to someone else when she was still a baby. Your aunt had no say in thematter. As you know, her arranged marriage was a disaster and she’s now divorced…’
    A jangle of sounds interrupted our conversation, as a band of roving musicians pushed through the crowd: six elderly men playing drum, cymbal, erhu (violin), gong, flute and castanets. Their music was so loud and distracting that we couldn’t talk. I pressed my fingers against my ears and looked around. Wafting through the air was a delicious aroma. Hunger pangs gripped me and I remembered that I had eaten nothing since noon. A food seller right opposite us was sautéing pork and noodles in a giant wok perched above a portable charcoal stove. To his right was a fruit vendor, with piles of persimmons, mandarin oranges, jujubes, dates, apples and pears. To his left squatted a shoemaker, totally absorbed in sewing on the sole of a shoe made of cloth. Right next to our stall a fortune-teller was speaking intently to a female customer, under a sign that said:
    Yi Jing is a Book of Magic
I use it to tell your fortune.
    They were so close I could hear part of their conversation. In his hands he held a bundle of sticks and a book with a black cover.
    The sight of the fortune-teller reminded me of my own misfortune and desperate future. Terrified of spending the night alone on the streets of Shanghai, I dropped to my knees in front of Grandma Wu. ‘Please don’t send me back to my stepmother,’ I pleaded. ‘Take me home with you and let me join your society. I’ve nowhere to go and don’t know what to do.’
    Grandma Wu pulled me to my feet and held me again. ‘Stop worrying, CC! I wouldn’t dream of abandoning you. Grandma Liu and I promised one another years ago that we would always tong gan gong ku () and tong zhou gong ji (), share bitter and sweet and stick together through thick and thin). That’s the sort of friendship we share. You are the niece of my best friend’s goddaughter. You are also homeless, beset with perils and in desperate need of help. Besides, I do believe that you and I have yuan fen between us. Lots and lots of yuan fen . No question about it. You are definitely coming back with us to the academy!’

5
    Martical Arts Academy

    The academy was a converted warehouse on Avenue Petain in the French Concession. It was divided into two wings with a courtyard in between. The rooms were enormous and Grandma Wu had partitioned them into smaller areas with bamboo panelling. The left wing consisted of classrooms, study areas, and a gymnasium. Dormitories and living quarters were in the right wing.