The Dragon from Guangzou
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DW Plato THE DRAGON FROM GUANGZOU The Dragon from Guangzhou To Raymond. Thanks for all the love and support. Copyright © D.W. Plato 2020 This manuscript is meant for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. No part of this book shall be copied or reproduced without explicit permission from the author. Edited by Kimberly Hunt, Revision Division, Baltimore, Maryland, U.S.A DW Plato THE DRAGON FROM GUANGZOU 1801 - Off the shore of Guangzhou, South China Chapter One – A Girl Named Mógū The stiff leather hood had been cinched firm around her neck. Danger danced on her flesh. She felt the fumbling of the knot being undone below her chin. The fear thick in her throat caused her heart rate to flare. Who were these people who had kidnapped her? Fresh air, tinged with incense, filled her nostrils as the hood was pulled off. Mógū (Mushroom) breathed deep. Her eyes were already adjusted to the dark. Candles flickered and danced creating a warm comforting atmosphere. A bedchamber? Large, colorful silk pillows were piled high on an oversized bed. Ornate wood carvings adorned each piece of furniture. Everything she saw screamed wealth. The furnishings were luxurious, the art on the walls, even the rug under her bare feet was plush and expensive. From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure sitting at a little table at the far end of the room. She squinted in the dim light trying to make out facial features. The man rose and leisurely moved into her line of vision. “It was you?” she questioned as recognition settled. Her face knotted in confusion and she felt as if she may get sick. The incense suddenly seemed to choke her as the memories of the day before crashed into her thoughts, the carnage DW Plato THE DRAGON FROM GUANGZOU on the flower boat, the terror, the blood. Chuntao. She shook her head blocking the images still fresh in her mind. The man smiled with confidence and reached out to stroke her cheek. His voice was calm, “Hello, my dear.” Twelve hours earlier ~ Shrill screams, high pitched and pained, startled Mógū. It was dawn and the young woman had been looking forward to getting some sleep. She had taken most of her work garb off and stood stock-still in her undergarments. Her twelve-hour shift on the floating brothel ended when the sun came up. It would start again at dusk. She preferred being available to their clients at night; evening trysts were much more fun and often included booze and opium. Another shriek from a different location on the upper deck sent a shiver down her spine. Moving with the stealth and quickness of a cat, she retrieved her ten-inch dagger and, for good measure, took the broom handle she used to blockade her door in her other hand. Silently, she tip-toed into the hallway of the flower boat, all of her senses on high alert. As Mógū crept up the narrow treads to the upper deck she heard the unmistakable grunts of a man engaged in intercourse. There was also a muffled, thin mewling of a woman in pain. Sunlight blinded her momentarily. DW Plato THE DRAGON FROM GUANGZOU Sex was expected on the flower boat, it was a floating whorehouse after all, but what she saw was surprising. One of the prostitutes was being accosted against her will. The man had the woman pinned to the wooden planks of the deck. He had her head bent to one side while covering her mouth with his beefy hand. Her feet kicked and she twisted under his heft. Mógū noticed the woman’s lotus feet and knew which of the young women it was. Fury flared in her chest. Without thinking she stuck her dagger with force into the tender fold of the man’s buttock and withdrew it quickly. He gave a sharp yip then moved from the woman, confused and pained. His and Mógū’s gaze met. Fast and with force, she plunged the dagger deep into his neck, twisted it and pulled it out. Blood squirted at an odd angle, up and out. Pale-faced, he staggered towards her in a last attempt to do her harm. She brought the broom handle down on the back of his skull. Crack! The noise was sickening and satisfying at the same time. The young, weeping woman crawled to the stairwell and disappeared. It took Mógū only a moment to realize their boat was under attack. Who would do such a thing? she wondered on the run. Prostitution was illegal in Guangzhou but the government had made an exception for the flower boats since officially they were in the harbor. All the men who visited loved the service and attention the flower boats offered. Many came back time and time again. Most DW Plato THE DRAGON FROM GUANGZOU government officials made regular visits. They all treasured the flower boats from professionals to laymen. This attack didn’t make any sense. They were just a bunch of women working to make ends meet. Mógū had to find her best friend, Chuntao (Spring Peach). She knew her lifelong pal wouldn’t protect or defend herself. Where could she be? Mógū raced to the kitchen on impulse. Sure enough, Chuntao was there huddled behind a barrel of rice. Her eyes were wider than normal, and her face was completely drained of color. Relief overcame Mógū as she approached. The two of them had been through so much together. Chuntao was the only family she had; their bond was as strong as steel. “What’s happening?” she sniveled as she stood. Mógū shrugged and offered her friend a comforting smile. “Why would you think I would know?” “You like turmoil, admit it,” Chuntao mocked and moved towards her friend. “No, I don’t,” Mógū said, a little perturbed. Suddenly, one of the attackers stepped from the doorway. He drove his sword blade through Chuntao’s back. It tore through her gown and poked out of DW Plato THE DRAGON FROM GUANGZOU her chest. Her round face froze in an expression of surprise as she fell forward off the man’s blade. “NO!” Mógū screamed. The man swung his sword at her but she was quicker. She ducked under the deadly swipe. Crouched down, she ran towards her assailant. She rammed the top of her head into the man’s groin full force. The bellow from him let her know she hit the mark. Mógū scooped up his dropped weapon. In one fluid motion, she stood and beheaded him. The razor-sharp sword hesitated only slightly as it went through his spine. She heard a dull thunk when his skull hit the deck. The body fell a moment after. Mógū turned her attention to Chuntao. Blood oozed through the front of her garments. She was trembling and very pale. “No, no, no,” Mógū chanted and knelt beside her wounded friend. “This is not good,” Chuntao whispered, “not good at all.” “Sshhh, it’ll be alright,” Mógū answered with more confidence than she felt. “Easy for you to say, you’re not hemorrhaging—” “Be quiet,” Mógū said with authority, “seriously, shh…” With force, she tore the woman’s bodice open. She made two strips of fabric with the front and with delicacy, she cinched it tight to stop the bleeding. DW Plato THE DRAGON FROM GUANGZOU “Can you breathe?” she asked. Chuntao’s eyes were closed but she nodded. The color had completely drained from the young woman’s face; her lips had turned a light shade of blue. Mógū glanced between Chuntao and the melee. Panic washed over her as a sickening feeling settled into her gut. Why? Who? How? So many questions tumbled through her mind as she tried to piece together the scene taking place around her. A lithe figure caught Mógū’s attention. A painted face in a traditional white, black and red concubine style smiled at her. The figure moved with fluidity, swaying as if it were dancing. Confusion disarmed her brain. How had she not met this woman before? Was she a call girl? A new addition to the flower boat? Or part of the raid? Concubines raiding a brothel boat? None of this made sense. Their eyes were locked as Mógū stood and studied the pretty face. She found herself returning a slight smile a split second before the black leather hood appeared from the folds of the woman’s dress and descended over her face. Mógū fought and struggled. She clawed at her captor’s arms. This was man strength she realized with a sense of hopelessness, as she felt the rope being securely fastened around her neck. Like a sack of potatoes, she was heaved over the shoulder of her abductor and carried off the burning boat. DW Plato THE DRAGON FROM GUANGZOU Although it had only been hours, it seemed like days before the dreadful hood was taken off her face. “Hello, my dear,” Zheng Yi said to her as he gently stroked her cheek. DW Plato THE DRAGON FROM GUANGZOU Chapter Two – Love is Overrated Mógū lay in the bed replaying the day’s events in her head. Zheng Yi’s proposal was bizarre. Last night she had been expecting him, he was a regular. Her favorite regular. They had a relationship that went beyond the bed. She would have called Zheng Yi a friend or at the least, a business partner. Over the years, he had given her plenty of extra money to whisper information from some of her other powerful clients.