FRAGMENT 42
A Voice Under Control
Fragment: A Tone Both Flirtatious and Polite | A Powerful Man's Voice Deliberately Controlled
Time & Location: Summer 1999 · Gongbei Customs, Zhuhai | Fu an Hotel, Macau
Xu Yanan wore a pale blue off-the-shoulder dress.
In the wind, she carried the elegance of a Tang Dynasty court lady.
The friction between expensive fabric and skin seemed to transmit high-frequency signals of absolute confidence.
A sensuality carefully restrained.
Then restrained again.
Red banners welcoming Macau's return covered every corner of Gongbei Customs.
"You're looking beautiful today, Sister."
"Pff."
The familiar short laugh.
"Stop talking nonsense."
She pressed down the short wig lifting in the breeze.
After Gao Yong's banquet, we had met many times.
Gradually, we began calling each other sister and brother.
I never detected anything unusual within her.
Yet every time we met face-to-face, I found myself imagining what it would feel like to hold that living painting in my arms.
Beyond the border gate, the slogans disappeared.
Only Portuguese and English signs remained.
A short middle-aged man stood waiting.
Gray jacket.
Handsome features.
Easy smile.
He extended his hand toward Xu Yanan.
"Welcome. Welcome.”
"General Zhou."
"I've really missed you."
Her voice sounded both flirtatious and impeccably polite.
"Let me introduce someone."
"This is Bai Ying."
"President Bai."
"Pff."
"Excellent."
"Welcome to the capitalist world."
“Hahaha."
The general moved quickly.
I hurried after him.
Still struggled to keep pace.
As I followed, I wondered what sort of discipline a senior Chinese military officer must possess to remain untouched by temptation in a place like Macau.
Money.
Desire.
Opportunity.
Everywhere.
The streets of the Macau Peninsula felt completely different from Beijing.
The shops were overflowing with merchandise.
Not the exaggerated abundance described in propaganda.
Real abundance.
Shopkeepers spoke softly.
Customers spoke softly.
People yielded to one another.
Smiled as though they were still sitting in their own living rooms.
The air carried none of Beijing's smell of power.
Only the scent of life itself.
Fresh.
Seductive.
Almost unreal.
Five o'clock in the afternoon.
A large Portuguese-style building appeared at the corner of a street.
For the first time in my life, I stepped into a capitalist hotel.
Above the entrance hung a plaque bearing four Chinese characters:
Fu An Hotel.
General Zhou led us into the lobby lounge.
Before we had even settled into our seats, he stood up.
Raised his voice.
"The boss is here."
An elderly bald man approached with measured steps.
His light-gray suit looked as though it had just emerged from a display window.
Threads of gold shimmered within the fabric.
His face was unusually smooth.
Almost feminine.
Round.
Fair.
Radiating vitality.
Barely a wrinkle in sight.
"Boss Fu."
"Good, good."
The hotel owner clasped the general's hand.
Then looked toward Xu Yanan.
His heartbeat accelerated noticeably.
"Colonel Xu."
"Long time no see."
Though his voice was carefully controlled, I could still hear a faint tremor underneath.
I remained in the background.
A shadow among the greetings.
“Boss Fu, this is my younger brother, Bai Ying."
Xu Yanan patted my arm.
Using her familiar gentle tone, she introduced me.
Methodically.
Carefully.
Explaining my value.
The rhythm of her breathing rose and fell like a countryside folk song.
"Very good."
"Very good."
He chose his moment to speak precisely.
After Xu Yanan had finished.
After General Zhou had nodded.
Eight seconds later.
Boss Fu's heartbeat remained remarkably calm.
Almost perfectly steady.
Only when someone mentioned money—
Or hinted at it—
Did the slightest fluctuation appear.
For the first time in my life, I sensed the composure of true commercial capital.
Compared with Gao Yong's small schemes, conducted through borrowed power and hidden favors, the difference was enormous.
An elephant and a mouse.
Both could move things.
But never on the same scale.
FRAGMENT 43
“A Road to Heaven”
Fragment: A Sigh That Never Leaves the Mouth | Acoustic Refraction Within a Few Meters
Time & Location: Summer 1999 · Hotel Lisboa | Spring 2000 · Casino Lisboa, Macau
In front of the General and the Colonel, Boss Fu made his promise immediately.
A satellite television license.
Complete independence.
Complete control.
And ten years free of charge.
Then he looked directly at me and repeated himself.
Twice.
"Satellite television is a business in the sky."
"The road to heaven is already there."
"The question is whether you'll know how to walk it."
Xu Yanan was delighted.
She stepped forward and embraced Boss Fu.
The tycoon appeared perfectly gentlemanly.
Yet something was being swallowed deep inside his throat.
A sound every man understands.
Then he straightened his back.
Waved farewell.
Turned.
And descended the spiral staircase.
"President Bai."
General Zhou grinned.
A man's grin.
A man's eyes.
"Guess how old Boss Fu is."
"Sixty at most."
I answered without hesitation.
"Seventy-two next month."
"Hahaha."
He laughed loudly.
"How does he maintain himself?"
"Did you notice where he went?"
"Downstairs."
"Exactly."
"That's the sauna."
"He goes there every day at this hour."
"Never misses."
"Hahaha."
Only much later did I learn what a Macau sauna really meant.
I had already booked a room at the Hotel Lisboa & Casino.
The room was enormous.
A lotus-shaped chandelier hung from the ceiling.
Its milky light spread softly across the room.
Like a woman's body unfolding beneath silk.
I threw myself onto the oversized bed.
The entire world felt soft.
Everywhere glittered with gold.
After a shower, I dressed carefully.
Then walked next door and knocked.
Twelve seconds passed.
She was adjusting her breathing.
The door opened.
She wore a silk robe.
Her hair was still wet.
Her eyes seemed slightly unfocused.
"Tired, Sister?"
"Pff."
"Come in."
My heartbeat accelerated.
I turned sideways.
Talking about nothing in particular.
Hoping her attention would not drift downward.
Outside the window, neon lights illuminated the curves beneath the silk.
No longer a court lady from a painting.
Something far more dangerous.
Heat surged through my body.
My ears began ringing.
"You should get some rest."
"We can talk tomorrow."
"Good night."
I retreated awkwardly.
Trying hard not to turn around.
"Okay."
"Good night."
Her voice floated behind me.
Soft.
Sticky.
And carrying a sigh that never quite escaped her lips.
Morality has little influence over a creature that is both man and bird.
The temptation of wealth, however, can cool instinct.
I understood something clearly.
Xu Yanan was not merely a colonel.
Not merely an unusually attractive woman.
She was a vessel of rare resources.
An asset so scarce that desire itself had to wait its turn.
FRAGMENT 44
Changes in Air Pressure
Fragment: A Sigh That Never Leaves the Mouth | Acoustic Refraction Within a Radius of Several Meters
Time & Location: Summer 1999 · Hotel Lisboa | Spring 2000 · Casino Lisboa, Macau
The impulse to spend a night with Xu Yanan encountered no physical resistance.
The breasts half-hidden beneath silk.
The elegant curves shaped by lamplight.
The face so exquisite that not kissing it felt almost criminal.
All of it vanished quickly.
Behind that body lay something stronger.
The narcotic of privilege.
The leverage of wealth.
Those mattered more.
Late that night, still restless, I climbed out of bed.
Dropped to the carpet.
Pressed an ear against the marble base of the wall.
There it was.
Movement.
A faint moan.
Its rhythm accelerated and slowed.
Carefully controlled.
Carefully restrained.
Next door.
Transmitted through the floor.
From a female officer who had removed every piece of clothing and every professional mask.
Soon afterward, I returned to Macau.
Without informing General Zhou.
Without informing Boss Fu.
"I didn't even tell Yanan."
"Heh-heh."
Gao Yong covered half his mouth while speaking.
Insisting on accompanying me.
Claiming he wanted to "study capitalism."
In reality, it was a private journey packed with calculation.
Not an official inspection.
Not even close.
We flew first to Hong Kong.
Spent two nights at the Conrad in Pacific Place.
He casually asked me to buy several luxury items for him.
Then bounced happily toward the Hong Kong-Macau ferry terminal.
We boarded a hydrofoil.
In Macau, we checked into the Sofitel at Ponte 16.
No casino.
No erotic saunas.
After dark, however, he led me directly to Casino Lisboa.
With the confidence of a regular customer.
The cylindrical building resembled half a woman's leg wrapped in lace.
Far more than the "nest of a hundred birds" people liked to describe.
We entered the VIP room.
Managers greeted him.
Dealers greeted him.
"Boss Gao."
The title followed him everywhere.
Only then did I realize how frequently he came here.
Before I could sit down, he waved me away.
"Go play the slot machines."
"They're fun."
"You won't win much."
"You won't lose much either."
I pretended to leave.
Then quietly returned.
Standing deep inside the shadows.
When Gao Yong sat at the gaming table, excitement altered the air pressure around him.
The change affected acoustic refraction within several meters.
I did not need to see both hands of cards.
I only needed to hear the tiny sounds.
The fibers breaking when his fingernails dug into his fingertips.
The rhythm of his breathing.
The timing of his swallowing.
From those sounds alone, I could usually tell whether he was winning or losing.
I listened carefully.
